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simp4wom3n · 5 months

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Why Don't I Know You?

Requested: Yes/No ~ How about Regina having a crush on the reader but not saying anything bc she thinks the reader won't like her, but when the reader starts talking to her and everything, Regina is suddenly possessive ykwis

Pairing: Regina George x Reader

Summary: Shocked when a face she doesn't recognise shows up in her class, Regina makes it her goal to learn everything about them, even if it leads to her gaining a massive crush. ~ Word Count: 4.1k ~ Warnings: lotta swearing, one slur, otherwise mainly fluff

A/N: HI!!! FIRST RENEE/REGINA FIC!!! she is criminally underwritten, so I thought I would do my part (other people pls do right for her I need stuff to read). I love her so so much, and I had a blast writing this, so pls enjoy <3 + I will be creating a Renee rapp taglist so comment or message me if you wanna be on it :)

The halls of North Shore High were like a second home to Regina. Some would call it her hunting ground. Each year, she relished her opportunity to prowl the hallways, hunting the new freshman as she committed every new face and name to mind, with the intention of digging up all the dirt she possibly could. With thanks to Gretchen, she knew everything about everyone.

But then there was you.

"Alright, we have a new student joining us today."

Regina's eyes widened in pure shock as you walked into the room. With your bag casually slung over your shoulder, you make a beeline for the empty tables surrounding Regina. Ignoring the intensity of her gaze, you drop your bag and settle into the chair next to her. The faint strains of music emanated from the headphones hanging from your ears as you began organizing your belongings, only to be interrupted by the teacher.

"Y/n, if you could please stand and introduce yourself."

Your eyes flicked nervously towards the teacher, and the entire class turned to look at you. The intensity of Regina's gaze made your cheeks glow with a faint red before you sighed dejectedly and reluctantly stood up, pulling out your headphones.

"Um... Hi, I'm Y/n... not really much else to say."

The teacher nodded at you before turning around to start the lesson. Watching as you sat down, Regina's focus shifted entirely to you.

She couldn't tell whether it was because she knew nothing about you, or that you were just so damn hot.

Maybe it was both.

As soon as the bell rang, signalling the end of the class, Regina wasted no time storming off to find Gretchen. Having watched you for the entirety of the class, she was desperate to find out everything about you.

Strutting through the packed hallway, everyone staring at her in fear, Regina locked onto her target as she came into her view. "Gretchen!" she called irritatedly. The small girl quickly turned around as her eyes widened in fear. "Tell me... How is it that I don't know anything about this new Junior, Y/n? Why wasn't I informed? I need all the details now!"

Gretchen, scrambling to keep up with Regina's relentless pace, stammered out an apology. "I-I'm sorry, Regina! I didn't even know they were coming."

"God, you are useless!"

In only a week, not only had watching you become her routine, but she had even started to develop a crush on you, as painful as that was for her to admit.

She was supposed to be chased, not the one chasing.

Seeing you had become the favourite part of her day, even above having the whole school bow at her feet. She hadn't even talked to you. She just watched.

She meticulously studied your every move, subconsciously committing all of your subtle mannerisms to memory. Like the way you would take notes, or the way you would nibble at your fingers when you were focused. Or her personal favourite, when you knawed at the end of your pencil when you were nervous or stressed.

Fuck, she wishes she was that pencil.

She hated to admit it, but the thought of talking to you terrified her. Her usually overbearing confidence drained away whenever you sat in the chair next to her, your mysterious yet comforting presence causing her to malfunction.

And yet, as she sat at lunch with Gretchen and Karen, she refused to mutter a word about you to them. The furthest they pushed was when Gretchen asked about you after catching Regina staring at you, and the look Regina gave the poor girl made her shut up immediately.

The lunch tables were packed as usual, but Regina's eyes scanned the hallway beside them. She was well aware that you never sat at any of the tables, so she patiently waited for you to return to your locker, which was conveniently placed within sight of her table.

Karen and Gretchen's incessant babbling went unnoticed as you finally appeared. She couldn't help but notice your slouched posture and sluggish movements. You looked exhausted. Your headphones, which you always had on you, dangled from one ear as you forcefully opened your locker.

As if she wasn't already concerned, the table of varsity jocks had also noticed you, taking your clearly irritated mood as a green light to push even more of your buttons. From across the room, Regina watched with a clenched jaw as three of them stood from the table and made their way towards you.

Her body ached with anger as she watched them grab you by the shoulder and throw you against the lockers. Your exhausted expression turned to one of fear as they held you up against the cold metal doors. The guy forcefully snatched your headphones away, callously tossing them to the ground and obliterating them with a single forceful step.

Regina choked on a gasp. She knew how much you loved those headphones.

She was annoyingly out of earshot as she watched them continue to laugh at and berate you whilst shaking you against the lockers. Her blood was boiling. The others had noticed her expression and cast confused glances towards the commotion, which only confused them more.

The Regina they knew would be laughing.

After Regina's next victims finally let you go, your body shook as you realised that the whole school had just watched you get shamelessly belittled. As soon as your gaze locked with Regina's, your embarrassment grew unbearable, triggering you to hastily get your belongings before moving to make a swift escape.

The last Regina saw of you, you were frantically running away, desperately trying to hide your state as tears streamed down your face.

Those jocks had no idea what was coming for them.

The next time she laid eyes on you was the week after. She had already exacted her revenge on the jocks, having called their parents and telling them they all had STDs, yet when she caught sight of your weary expression as you entered the classroom, the familiar sense of triumph eluded her.

As the lesson passed and the teacher blabbered about a new group project, Regina's eyes never left you as you buried yourself in your notebook.

"Ok, listening, please." the teacher announced, garnering both of your attention. "The groups are as follows," you patiently waited for your name to be read out so you could go back to absentmindedly doodling in the margins of your book, whilst Regina similarly waited to hear the name of the poor soul who would be stuck with her. Yet, to her surprise, she wasn't disgusted by the name read beside hers.

"Y/n and Regina,"

With eyes wide and fixed on the teacher, Regina failed to notice the sudden blush that crept onto your cheeks, causing you to quickly lower your head. "You have the rest of the lesson to plan." the teacher mumbled before returning to their desk, where they sat silently.

Neither of you moved. After a second of secretly hoping Regina would make her move, you figured she wasn't interested in you or the project. Opening your computer and immediately diving into research, Regina sat at her desk, trying to build the courage to talk to you.

God, she hated being a coward.

After a few minutes and a few internal pep talks, she decided to take her one excuse to talk to you as she finally scooted her desk towards yours and turned to face you. As she inched closer, your heart began to race, sensing her gaze fixed on you. With a bashful smile, you diverted your attention from your screen and finally made eye contact with her.

She was breathtaking.

Clearing your throat, you quickly turned back to your computer as you scratched the back of your neck. "I-I'll just do it all when I get home," you spoke nervously, presuming THE Regina George would want nothing to do with you or the project.

"What makes you think I'd make you do it alone," she retorts, her tone more flirtatious than she had intended, but she wasn't mad about it. You looked back at her, lost for words for a second as you tried to scramble together a response.

"Well... I-I just presumed you wouldn't want to help." A small smile formed on her lips as you briefly glanced at her, "I mean, you hardly pay attention, so I just... figured." She softly giggles at your words, her laughter sending a flutter of excitement through your body.

Little did you know she was distracted by you.

"Come to mine later. We can do it together." Regina's unexpected display of confidence caught both of you off guard as her usual flirtatious demeanour made a comeback. Meanwhile, you stared at her in disbelief, trying to process what had just happened. "Ugh... Yeah, sure, if that's ok?"

"I wouldn't have asked if it wasn't"

As the school bell rang through the corridors, you were overwhelmed with both relief and anxiety. After enduring a tedious day at school, you were now faced with the terrifying task of not only talking to Regina but also spending hours alone with her at her house.

Walking out the doors and towards the car park, the sound of the bustling school fading into the background, your eyes catch a familiar blonde leaning up against her Jeep. Your heart began to race faster as you approached her, your bag feeling heavier with each step.

Her expression softened as she noticed you approaching, a warm smile gracing her lips, and she pushed herself off her car. "Hey," she greets softly, a soft shade of pink painting her cheeks as you both smile at each other. "Hi," you said breathlessly with a small chuckle.

Without another word, Regina moves to get in, and you follow suit, chucking your bag into the backseat next to hers before climbing into the passenger seat.

The breeze gently tousled your hair as you drove to her house, the soothing tunes of music filling the air, matching the nervous excitement between you both. Your heart beat along with the music as you snuck glances at the girl sitting next to you. With her eyes focused on the road and the wind softly brushing her skin, you were utterly mesmerised by her.

Of course, you had heard of Regina George's horror stories, but this girl was different.

Sure, you hadn't spoken till this morning, but there was something about her you couldn't quite describe. Something that brought you to school every day, comforting you as you sat in undoubtedly one of the most boring classes, and that gave life at North Shore High purpose.

Frankly, you rejected any idea of her being a heartless bitch.

When you eventually turned into her driveway, your gaze was forced away from her as you caught sight of her house, or should you say mansion. The house was almost cinematic in grandeur, your eyes growing wider by the second as you drove closer before eventually stopping at the door.

"Wow," you mumbled under your breath as you exited her car, your eyes not leaving the building as you reached for your bag. You heard Regina chuckle lightly as she led the way to her door. "My mum's not home, thank god, so we have the place to ourselves."

You nod mindlessly as you follow her through the front door. As you trailed behind her, the pristine marble floors beneath your feet echoed with each step, a stark contrast to the scuffed linoleum of the school corridors.

Just when you thought you had gotten used to it, Regina led you to her room. Stepping inside, you find yourself mesmerised by everything around you. "This is your bedroom?" you asked, clearly taken aback. Regina glanced back at you, a shy smile on her face.

"Yeah, It was my parents, but I asked them to trade me." "Right...". You couldn't help but be captivated by the array of decorations adorning the walls, taking in the posters and photos that offered a rare glimpse into her life beyond her reign as the queen of North Shore.

Sitting on her bed and removing her shoes, she motions for you to do the same. Dropping your bag next to her massive bed and grabbing everything you need, you carefully sit down next to her, leaving enough room between the two of you so you don't seem invasive.

Opening your laptop and notebook, you place them on the bed as you pull up the project materials. You can feel Regina's gaze on you even though she's trying to be subtle, and the thought instantly makes your cheeks glow softly.

"So, uh, where do you want to start?"

The next few hours flew by as you worked on the project together. Regina was surprisingly helpful, the two of you moving closer as your work drew to a close. Now that the project was over, the familiar awkwardness lingered in the air as you searched for something to talk about that wouldn't embarrass you.

"You're really good at drawing, you know." Regina compliments softly, pointing at your notebook margins before you can say anything as you blush at her words. "Thanks... I've been doing it more since-" "Your headphones broke." Regina cuts you off as you look at her surprised.

"Yeah... How did you know that?" It was Regina's turn to blush as she realised that she had just revealed herself. Stammering to find an excuse, she looks away for a second, embarrassed. "I-I'm just a very observant person."

You look at her suspiciously with a small smile gracing your lips, the thought of Regina watching you making your heart flutter.

"You're different." you find yourself blurting out, "from how everyone else describes you, I mean." you finish quickly. Regina chuckles as she smiles at you softly. "You're different too. Good different. I like it."

The tension between you grew as you stared into each other's eyes. A softness behind her pale blue eyes drew you in, and before you knew it, you were slowly leaning in. Your heart was beating out of your chest as you caught Regina glancing down at your lips, her own caught between her teeth as your faces grew closer.

"Regina, honey!" You scramble backwards as Regina's bedroom door flies open, revealing who you believe to be her mum. "Oh. Hi there!" "Mum, seriously!?" Regina yells in disbelief. Your ears begin to ring as your head pounds, thinking about what would have happened if you had not been interrupted.

"I'm sorry, honey, I didn't realise you had anyone over." While Regina's mother was apologising, you could hear Regina sighing in frustration next to you. "I'll just go to the kitchen." Her mum suggests as she begins to leave the room, but you beat her to it. "No, Ms George, it's okay. I was on my way out anyway." You offer her a smile you hope appears as genuine as you quickly throw everything into your bag.

Trying to ignore Regina's pained gaze, you threw your bag over your shoulder, grabbed your shoes, and quickly exited her bedroom, making your way out the front door. You had no plan on how to get home, but you would rather walk than have to sit in that room after what had happened.

Walking into school the next day was like walking straight into a nightmare. You already weren't fond of the school, having been called slurs and made fun of constantly, but adding to that, your usual excitement of seeing Regina had been replaced with pure fear.

In just one night, you managed to spin every interaction you ever had with the girl, leaving you incredibly embarrassed about how you had let it all happen. Who were you to think Regina might actually like you? You were probably just a pawn in some big game.

Unlocking your locker and throwing it open, already fed up with the day before it had even begun, you began to unpack your stuff, completely ignorant of the approaching jock.

Walking into school with a similarly distraught look, Regina's mind was stuck reeling over the events from last night. The question of why you ran away was all she could think about until she heard a sharp bang.

Before you could react, you were once again thrown against the lockers, an irritated grunt leaving your lips. Your eyes met the same bastard who had made bullying you their new hobby. "Back for more, dyke?" he taunted you, your fists clenching involuntarily as you awaited the verbal abuse he was undoubtedly about to unleash on you.

Regina's head immediately whipped in its direction, a new sense of anger rushing through her body as she saw your saddened figure being pinned up against the lockers. Without hesitation, she storms towards the jock holding you against the wall with a fire burning behind her eyes.

"Fuck off, asshole!"

The boy's expression quickly shifted, causing him to release his grip on you and hastily retreat in terror. You sighed in relief as you observed Regina approaching you, her face contorted with unmistakable rage.

You found it quite amusing how scary everyone found her, causing the boy who had just been full of confidence to shrink into insignificance, like a tiny ant that she was about to step on.

"Look in her direction again, and it won't just be STDs next time."

The boy's face flashed in realisation before hurriedly scrambling off. All eyes were fixed on you as Regina directed her gaze towards you, her expression instantly softening with a hint of concern in her eyes. "Are you ok?" you managed a nod as the softness of her voice filled you with a comforting warmth.

"Yeah… Thanks," you replied softly, your familiar awkward energy filling the air. She watched you momentarily as you remained silent, hopeful that you would acknowledge her. Yet, as you continued to avert your gaze away from her, she gave you a soft nod before turning to leave. Her stomach sank as the failing state of your relationship grew more and more obvious.

With an unfamiliar burn of tears behind her eyes, her pace quickened as she tried to get as far away from you as she possibly could.

But you stopped her.

"Regina, wait!"

Looking over her shoulder and meeting your sorry gaze, her heart can't help but flutter as she watches you slowly jog after her. "Sorry, I-" you hesitated, feeling a surge of nerves as you came the closest you had been to Regina since yesterday. "Did you want to maybe... hang out at yours after school again?"

"Didn't we finish the project?" She seems confused, completely missing that you wanted to spend time together outside what was needed. "No, we did. I just thought we could, you know, just watch a movie or something, but if you're not into that-"

"I would love to." She interrupts your anxious babbling with a gentle laugh, her gaze filled with admiration as you stare at her in a state of surprise and joy. "Meet me at the same place, ok?" "Yeah". Regina walks away from you with a smirk as you stand there frozen.

Holy shit, you just asked Regina George out.

The trip to Regina's after the bell finally rang was much like the day before.

She waited for you by her car, dismissing her other friends when she spotted you. Greeting each other warmly before jumping in the car, you once again listened to music whilst the wind swept through your hair, a nervous yet warm sense of anticipation falling between you.

Pulling up to her house, which you were still in awe of, you jumped out of the car and walked towards the front door behind Regina. "This time, my mum actually isn't home and won't be. I made sure of it. So we really do have the place all to ourselves."

You both laughed at her words as a small blush crept onto your cheeks. You walked behind Regina as she entered her bedroom, studying the now familiar walls as she set up everything you needed to watch a movie.

After sitting on her bed with the TV switched on and Netflix loaded up, you still remained standing in her doorway, nibbling on your pencil, which you always kept stowed away in your pocket, causing her to glance at you with a puzzled expression. "You seem distracted. Everything okay?" she asked, her voice soft yet discerning.

Snapping back into reality, offering her a sheepish smile, you replied, "Yeah, just lost in thought, I guess." taking the pencil from your lips, you slowly moved towards her bed, your eyes subconsciously scanning every inch of her body, your mind going wild seeing her so comfortable.

Her gaze fixated on you, her piercing blue eyes captivating in the sunlight pouring through the window. She laughed softly, the sound filling the room with a pleasant melody. "Lost in thought or thoughts of me?"

The comment caught you off guard, and your cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "I… um, what makes you say that?". Regina, who reclined into her bed, gestured towards your hand, occupied by a chewed-up pencil.

"You always chew on that when you're nervous," she spoke softly. Your eyes widened in astonishment as the familiar burn returned to your cheeks. "How do you know that?" She smirked, "I notice everything." Regina's gaze never wavered as she continued watching you, a playful glint in her eyes.

"So, what's got you so nervous, Y/n?"

You felt a lump form in your throat as Regina's question hung in the air, filling the lavish room with tension. You couldn't help but fidget with your pencil, trying to find the right words to capture the overwhelming mix of emotions that Regina's presence constantly stirred within you.

"I, uh… it's just… everything, I guess. School, people, this…" You gestured vaguely between the two of you, unable to articulate the chaotic mess of feelings inside. Regina leaned up, her voice softening. "Well, you don't have to be nervous around me." Her eyes locked onto yours, a sincerity beneath the confident facade. "Now sit."

Slipping your shoes off and sitting on the bed, you move closer to Regina, who is lying against her pillows, her gaze unwavering. Eventually settling next to her, you turn to look at her, your heart fluttering as her soft eyes meet yours.

The room seemed to buzz with an unspoken energy, and all you could hear was the sound of your shared breaths. You caught your bottom lip between your teeth, watching Regina's eyes analyse your face. A blush painted her cheeks, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still.

Regina seemed hesitant, her mouth opening as if searching for the right words. "You know, I've been infatuated with you ever since you first walked into class." Your heart did a somersault at her words. A dreamy smile spread across your face, and you couldn't help but feel a rush of joy and disbelief.

"Regina George. Infatuated with me?" you teased playfully, her confession coursing adrenaline through your veins. With a gentle laugh, she hides her face briefly behind her hand before looking back at you, matching your wide smile.

"Shut up."

Leaning towards you, Regina's hands delicately wrapped around your neck, a slight shiver travelling down your spine. The room appeared to tighten as Regina held you, her touch confident and gentle. You caught your bottom lip between your teeth, your eyes never leaving Regina's as she closed the distance.

Time seemed to stand still as her lips met yours.

The touch of her lips against yours was gentle, her hands brushing your neck with a mix of desire and passion. Everything else faded away as you fell into the kiss.

Her breath mingled with yours, and you could feel the rapid beat of her heart echoing your own. The room seemed to buzz with an electrifying charge, and the only sounds that reached your ears were the shared breaths between you two.

As Regina pulled away, a shared moment of breathless silence hung in the air. Once buzzing with unspoken energy, the room was now filled with the soft sounds of your intertwined breaths. Regina's cheeks were tinted with a deeper blush, and a subtle smirk played on her lips.

Your mind still reeling from the feeling of her lips on hers, you speak with a breathless chuckle, "What's everyone else gonna think?". Regina smirked at your question, a glint of defiance in her eyes as she pulled you back in, mumbling her response on your lips.

"Let them talk."

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vampyrsm · 1 year

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An Ode to Lost Love.

✞ — Synopsis: What was that quote about another's silence? “Be leery of silence. It doesn't mean you won the argument. Often, people are just busy reloading their guns.” Right. You should’ve seen this coming, really, it was a little stupid of you to believe he just forgot all about you.

✞ — Warnings: MDNI. Dark content, implied stockholm syndrome, mentions of murder, the reader receives death threats, yandere behaviour, violence, blood, injuries, asphyxiation, the reader is knocked unconscious, concussion, heavy manipulation, preying on the reader, dumbification, objectification, gaslighting, non-con, dubcon (but hardly, it's a very grey area), disassociation, minimal/no prep vaginal sex, burning/marking in detail, reader vomits once due to injuries, creampie, breeding kink, baby trapping, Dabi flipflops a lot between emotions.

✞ — Word Count: 7k

✞ — Notes: This is a Dabi x female!Reader. This is my first real dark content fic. If this is not your cup of tea, please do not interact. Please take care with the warnings, it's very much a dead dove: do not eat. Posted over on AO3 too for ease of reading. I definitely do not condone anything that has been written here, I'm also not romanticising noncon or any of the warnings. Thank you for taking the time to read it, remember to take care and enjoy :)

Living in the aftermath of someone's destruction was just as you would expect; chaotic, and lonesome. You had signed up for this all those years ago but you hadn’t expected it to turn out quite like this. You were never going to get used to the stares when someone recognised you in the store, or the smashed windows of the local youth who wanted to shame someone who was tricked with the promise of something more.

Though you didn’t feel ashamed for what you had done, nor did you regret it – for the most part, anyway. Sure you had regretted keeping silent when you saw a man lose his life because of a simple mistake, you should’ve left when you realised that you were being lied to. That the man you had fallen in love with was not a misunderstood young man but rather a cruel and deceiving criminal.

The man in question? Touya Todoroki – also most commonly known as Dabi.

You hated this part of town, it was… less than decent. Run down and filled with low-life criminals who were on the run or simply just wanted to live a somewhat normal life. The walls of the buildings you pass by are decaying, unrepaired from when heroes did decide to pay a visit to the neglected parts of the cities and towns they were supposed to serve and protect.

What a fucking lie.

It’s not that you hated hero society, per se, but you also knew how disgusting some of the heroes still were. After everything Touya went through after he poured his heart out to you and the rest of the world – nothing fucking changed. Of course, it had pissed you off when they exhausted him to the point of near death before carting him off to Tartarus, they were sweeping him under the rug to be forgotten about. You attempted to reach out to the other members of the liberation but none of them wanted anything to do with you, you weren’t a villain. You were just attached to one.

The stairs up to your rundown apartment were practically crumbling with each step, you made sure to avoid the 8th step that was shattered entirely. When you first moved here, you thought it would only be for a short amount of time, just somewhere to lay low to avoid the probing questions of the heroes who wondered if you were compliant in any of Touya’s crimes. But the two-year timeframe you gave yourself quickly turned to three, then five, and now here you were eight years later. The apartment building looked the same as when you first moved in, the mysterious stain on the carpet leading to your apartment had never been removed and you’re pretty sure the world will end before it’s ever cleaned.

Your door opened with a creak, the old hinges were hanging on for dear life and you never worked up the nerve to ask the guy who let you live here to try and fix it. Of course, you would do it yourself, if it were not for the fear of breaking it entirely and having no door at all in such a shady neighbourhood. With a click of the door behind you, your entire body relaxes with a drop of your shoulders and you drop the keys in the chipped bowl by the front door.

Once free of your shoes, you trudge further into the apartment. Inside it was much nicer than outside, you had made sure to work hard to make yourself comfortable here. At first, you hesitated on decorating, the constant voice in the back of your head telling you that Dabi—Touya wouldn’t like it. But it became easier over time, as the claws he had sunk in your flesh had loosened with each passing day without him leering over you. Of course, he still lingered deep in your bones, scars like the ones he left on you would never truly go away.

You hadn’t realised you were quite so ‘damaged’ until after he was gone. When you were suddenly allowed to break the surface of the water Dabi had been holding you down beneath to see you squirm, it was jarring, to say the least. You struggled day to day wondering what to do with yourself, you had no one to direct your every move or to care for you the way he had. The first couple of years were the worst, a constant void in place of where your heart should be. You longed to have Dabi back, to card your fingers through soft snow-like hair, you missed his insufferable warmth. It had suffocated you at first until it became a comfort, something you needed to get through the day.

The letters you sent back and forth with him had helped some, the smell of smoke and ash when you’d open a new letter from him would get you through the darkest of nights. He had always had a way with his words, not many would think that of Touya, he hadn’t finished school and he most definitely didn’t have the support through his teenage years but he had taught himself how to read and write. And he was very good at it, very fucking good.

With each letter, you could practically hear his voice, the syrupy low tone that would muddle your brain and numb your nerves. Those letters had started to grow more erratic, it morphed from the loving Touya you had been privileged to know in the safety of his bedroom into Dabi, a cruel villain who wanted you to suffer just as he had. He didn’t take it easy when you told him you were starting to question the legitimacy of your relationship with the scarred man. He grew unkind with his words, the I love you turning into I wish you were fucking dead at the end of each letter.

He felt betrayed, you figured, everyone he had known had abandoned him and you were just the same as the rest of them. His final letter went into gruesome detail as to what he would do to you once he got out, how his hands may be made to burn but he would relish in watching the light leave your eye when he choked you to death. You didn’t need to read further to know he would’ve gone into detail about what he’d then do with your dead body. That was the last letter you had read, but they continued to come every fortnight like clockwork until they didn’t. You figured he might’ve gotten bored, or perhaps someone had taken him out on the inside. There wasn’t a shortage of people who would want Dabi dead.

The bag in your hand was heavy as you dropped it onto the counter of the tiny kitchen, the relief in your wrist was instantaneous and you could finally relax fully. Your eyes close for a brief moment, relishing in the quiet of the apartment with the distant sound of sirens from down on the street. It was good to be home, each trip was harder than the last with the fear of being recognised by heroes, or worse. With the safety of your home wrapping around you like a comforting blanket, you reopened your eyes to begin the trivial task of putting away the groceries. But as you step further into the kitchen, it’s as if your entire body is dunked into ice water.

There’s a letter. An open letter was pinned to the old wooden cupboard with one of the knives from the rack. You don’t need to get closer to know which letter it is, the paper is well-worn and the big hearts he had drawn at the bottom are enough of an indicator. It’s the one he sent you on your birthday. It was riddled with love confessions, how he missed you more than anything in the world and when he’d get out he promised your hand in marriage. A life you wanted but knew you’d never get with a man like Dabi.

You take a step back, hip bumping into the corner of the counter to startle you into action. You whip around, ready to run out of the apartment but instead, your path is cut off almost instantly. There’s a broad chest in front of you, wide shoulders and a head of snowy white hair that you would recognise in a crowd of a thousand people. When you meet his eyes, he’s sneering down at you with a heat in his eyes that you saw moments before he would burn someone alive.

“Hello, doll. Miss me?” His voice hasn’t changed in the eight years apart, it’s still got a timbre to it that you can feel deep in the pit of your stomach. He looks bigger, somehow, the muscles of his neck and shoulders look firmer. He had always loomed over you but now he seemed even taller, swallowing the room whole with just his aura alone. Dabi must be able to see the way you’re eyeing him up, not quite in the way you had in the past but rather in a way that makes him excited; you were thinking of running.

You’re horribly predictable, he realises as you dash to the other side of the kitchen to dart around the tiny kitchen island that really didn’t give you any sort of head start. You can hear him click his tongue, then huffing a sigh before there’s the loud squeak of his boots and the thump of his bounding footsteps as he chases after you. The apartment is small, you don’t have a whole lot of room to make your escape so you have to rush past him when he starts to corner you into the hallway leading to the bedroom and bathroom.

A big mistake, you realise. He’s always been quick, and lithe on his feet and it reminded you of when a snake would strike. Fast and precise. His hands grab at your ribcage, easily swiping you off your feet before you’re slammed against the closest wall with a bang of your head on the wall. The world swirls when you try to look at him, the blue of his eyes glowing with mirth at the fact you even tried to outrun him. You’ve never been able to do it before, so what made you think you could do it this time?

“Silly fucking bitch,” He snarls in your face, the heat coming from his hands alone makes you squirm uncomfortably, you can feel the sting of welts starting to form on your skin in the shape of his hands. “You thought you could hide from me, didn’t you? You really fucking thought I’d forget about you?” Your silence isn’t what he wanted, apparently, as he pulls you from the wall just to slam you against it once again before throwing you to the floor. The movement has your stomach churning, bile rising in your throat when your head impacts on the floor again.

“I’d never forget about you, never.” His weight is heavy as he settles atop you, his thighs effectively pinning you beneath him before his hands descend onto your throat. His eyes are wide, manic, his lips parted in a twisted grin that makes him look more like the Devil himself. “Remember what I said to you? Hm? You remember the letters I sent?” You choke against his hands when he pushes harder, your fingers instinctively trying to come up and loosen his hold on you. “FUCKING ANSWER ME!” The spit of his words hits you in the face, but your entire head feels numb and fuzzy, your lips hurt – everything does.

“Y–” He leans in closer, sneering in your face and it does nothing to relieve the pressure on your throat. You’re going to die, he’s actually going to do it. “Yes!” you croak, hardly an audible word but Dabi hears it loud and clear. He holds eye contact as if he’s waiting for something, you’re not quite sure. Maybe he’s waiting for you to die, he had wanted to see the life drain from your eyes—

His hands come away from your throat, a too-hot hand latching on the underside of your jaw and his blunt nails dig into your cheeks. You suck in a harsh breath, choking on the sudden reintroduction of oxygen but you don’t get much longer to relish the fact you’re still alive. Dabi looms over you, the outline of his body blocks out the dingy yellow light overhead, giving him a grim outline that you have to squint at when you look up at him properly.

“Yeah? Then why’d you ignore me? Why’d you make me think you were fucking dead, or that you were busy getting fucked by some other guy like the whore that you are.” There’s a warning in his eye that prompts you to reply.

“I–I was scared!” you clear your throat uncomfortably, the confession coming from your mouth unwillingly but it was the hard truth. You were terrified of him and the things he had said to you, solely because you knew he would go through with it. If Dabi was anything, then he was a man of his word. His fingers curl harder into your jaw, forcing your mouth to open with the pressure. The look in his eye terrifies you, you can’t tell what he’s thinking with the way his eyes bounce back and forth between your own. He’s searching, you belatedly realise, searching to see if you’re telling the truth.

“Good,” he finally says, “You should be fucking scared.” He pulls your head from the floor just to smash it back against the floor in a blink of an eye. Everything falls into inky darkness.

There’s a distant sound of water running, but it sounds like it’s miles away. Your mind starts to slowly swirl back to life, the pain at the back of your head blossoming into something fierce that has a pained groan coming from your lips.

When you open your eyes, you’re no longer looking up at the ceiling of your hallway but rather at the ceiling fan in your bedroom, you’re not sure if it’s actually on or if your vision is still swimming. Nothing is quite adding up, how did you end up here? You were on the floor, and a ghost of something heavy atop of you had your mind jogging to try and catch up. But you weren’t always on the floor, something had put you there — no, someone had put you there. Dabi.

He’s not here, as far as you can tell, there’s no immediate warmth that comes with him when he steps into a room but there’s a distant smell of ash. He was still lurking. The shooting pain in the back of your head has your body jolting, muscles seizing up before they relax once the pain subsides just enough to let you breathe.

You were no idiot, you had hit your head a number of times, and you wouldn’t be surprised if you were teetering on the edge between life and death. Though that doesn’t deter you when your mind finally catches up with you, you have to get out of here. If he’s not here right now, then you have a chance to leave. This might be the last chance you have.

With a great effort that has your face screwing up, eyes clenched shut, you roll yourself onto your side until your face is stuffed into the soft cotton of your bed sheets that you huff against. Your entire body felt like it was being weighed down, your muscles screamed when you slowly got your arms beneath you to push yourself up enough to stare down at the bed. Instantly your eyes lock onto the patch of still-wet blood, the stain was massive and the sight of it had your stomach threatening to empty itself. Or maybe that was the concussion.

Your feet slip on the floor when you try to find your footing, your knees colliding with the floor with a muted thud that you hope Dabi doesn’t hear. The feeling of your jeans against the skin of your knees is relieving, you knew Dabi preferred for you to be … conscious, but you wouldn’t put it past him to want something regardless of whether you were awake or not. Slowly, you get up onto unsteady feet as if you had never walked a day in your life before. Your vision swims again when you stand up straight, it feels as if your head is ten times the size it is as it lolls back in threat of toppling you over again.

But just as you’re about to fall, there are hands catching you beneath your armpits and letting your head land against a shoulder – a bare one, but your mind doesn’t quite connect the dots just yet. “You really are pathetic, aren’t you? You can’t do anything without me, no wonder you panicked when I wasn’t here anymore…” Dabi drawls into your ear, but his voice sounds like it’s submerged in water. He breathes in a heavy exasperated sigh, his body jostling yours. “C’mon doll, let’s get you cleaned up. You made such a mess.”

There’s no room to argue, not that you would be able to form one with how your tongue tingles and your throat burns. Dabi is anything but graceful with the way he drags you towards the bathroom, uncaring for your feet that slip or bang against the corner of the shoddy old wooden door as you pass by.

There’s a bang of a door and you’re submerged in sticky warmth, the steam from the bathtub filling the room to the point where you can’t quite see more than a few inches in front of your face. With a shove and a push, you find your hands pressed into the slippy tile of your bathroom sink, your mind still too foggy to control your extremities and you find yourself pressed against the cool glass mirror.

You can feel Dabi’s eyes on you as he watches you struggle to get your bearings, your forehead pressed to the glass is soothing against the deafening thunderstorm in your head. His fingers are long when they wrap themselves carefully around your throat this time, pressing into the bruises you weren’t aware had already formed from his previous attack. Your head slumps back against his shoulders and you can just make out the glowing blue of his eyes as he stares right back at you, it always felt like he had the ability to stare into your soul.

“Look at you…” He coos, voice a soft contrast to the harsh voice from earlier. His spare hand cards through your hair, brushing past the gash on the back of your head that has you wincing. “My poor baby, you did this all to yourself.” Had you? You supposed he did have a point, you did ignore his letters, and you did try to run when he always told you to never do it. If you weren’t so stupid you might’ve avoided this, you shouldn’t have turned your back on him.

His burning fingers slide up from your throat until he grabs at your jaw once again, angling your head to stare at yourself directly in the mirror. Even through the thickness of the steam you can see you look on the verge of half-dead, there’s no life to your eyes, no usual glow to your skin. It’s horrifying to see yourself looking like a different person entirely. You were no longer you, but rather you were reduced back to the role of being Dabi’s plaything. Dabi hums deep in his throat as if he can hear the sluggish thoughts rolling around in your mind, hooking his chin over your shoulder.

“Look what you did to my baby, my doll. She’s all broken and for what? Because you forgot your place?” He clicks his tongue, chin withdrawing from your shoulder until he’s drawn back up to his full height and you can just make out the look on his face. His nostrils flared, lips drawing into a grim line and eyes half-lidded. “Maybe I should do you a favour, remind you of your place.” Dabi spins you on the spot, steadying your whirling head with both of his hands before he takes a careful step back and you can’t help but wonder if he plans on reminding you of your place by finally putting you out of your misery.

“Strip.”

What?

“Don’t make me do it for you, you won’t like it.” It’s a very clear warning, blaring sirens and red flags. You have to blink hard, will your mind to work with your trembling hands that attempt to grab at the bottom of your shirt. It feels like an eternity goes by until you’re dropping the shirt onto the floor with a wet plop, your eyebrows furrow at the sound but when you attempt to look down your vision swims again – “Useless.” Dabi grumbles before his warmth is pressed to your front, the smell of forest fire smoke choking you.

His fingers are quick and precise when they undo the buttons of your jeans before they’re shoved down your thighs, pooling at your ankles and Dabi is at least courteous enough to let you hold his forearms when you climb out of them until you’re left in just your underwear.

As if appraising a piece of art in a museum, Dabi lets his eyes slowly trail over flesh that he had seen an endless amount of times in the past. His head tilts slowly, regarding the swell of your breasts in the cup of your bra and the softness of your stomach, the way your hips pudge a little from the tight elastic of your plain underwear.

Still engulfing your personal space with his heat, he lets a hand slide up along your side, pressing dangerously into your ribs to hear the sharp inhale of when his fingers brush into bruised skin and muscle. Cerulean eyes level with your own when he inches around to the back of your bra, his fingers seemingly hardly move before the straps slip down your shoulders and the cups slacken on your chest. He plucks it from your body, letting it drop to the floor before his fingers trail back around to your front.

He keeps his head tilted, gaze redirected down to your chest and he can’t help but wet his tongue in anticipation. You had always been his most prized possession, the most beautiful, a masterpiece that was all for him. Those same too-hot fingers trail along the underside of your breasts, feeling the weight of them before groping one much too hard in one large palm. His fingers curl cruelly, squeezing as if it were a stress ball and all you could do was take it, your face crumpling in pain much to his delight.

“I trusted you, y’know.” He all but mumbles, gaze not lifting from the way your tit spills between his fingers when he gives another squeeze. “I thought it would always be me and you, against the world or whatever the fuck they say.” His thumb and index finger mercilessly pinch your nipple, tugging on it harshly to pull a pitiful cry from your mouth.

The sound has his eyes flicking up to yours, watching the way your lashes clump with unshed tears and how you’re not even attempting to stop the saliva dribbling from your lips. You really were so pathetic. Dabi chews on his scarred bottom lip for a moment, tossing over a thought in his mind but instead he opts to move his fingers to your neglected nipple, pulling and tugging until you’re a snivelling mess.

“‘M sorry!” You sob, the volume of your voice makes your head throb and the tears falling in fat streaks make your head feel heavier. “I’m sorry, Touya! Please, I–I didn’t know what to do without you.” The use of his name makes his eyebrow twitch, jaw clicking in place when he glares at you. It’s a low blow, to use his name like that and he knows you know that. He had always forbidden you from using that name unless you were given permission.

“Last warning, doll. I’m being nice here. You don’t get to use that name when you betrayed me.” His words have your mouth closing, bottom lip wobbling in an effort to keep yourself from openly crying in front of your tormentor. He would only ridicule you for it, tease you and see how far he could go before you broke apart from his words alone. Dabi doesn’t wait to pull down your panties next, the material dragging and scratching at your skin until they’re pooled at your feet along with everything else. “Turn around.”

And you do. You wordlessly turn, letting your hands brace on the sink once again before you meet your own gaze in the mirror. You somehow looked worse, the snot and saliva made you look quite like the snivelling petulant child that Dabi spoke to you like. There’s a clink of a belt before it hits the floor, the dropping of your heart into your stomach threatens to tip you over the edge.

A boot kicks your ankles apart, uncaring for the way you flinch at just how hard he kicks you. You’re perched over the sink, your stomach twitching every time it touches the cold porcelain. Dabi had only ever forced himself onto you a handful of times in the past, at the start of your “relationship”, he always soothed your tears and hushed your refusal with false promises hidden in between his sickly sweet words.

Over time the lines blurred between him forcing himself onto you and you willingly opening your legs for him when he asked for it. It pleased him to see you listening to him, and he became ‘softer’ if that was a possible word to describe a villain like him. Time spent with Dabi got easier when he was softer, it actually felt believable when he whispered into your ear at night how much he loved you, how much he appreciated you and how he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. It was hard to distinguish his lies and the truth when he looked at you like you hung the moon and stars.

A searing hot hand pressed to your bare ass has your mind jolting, bile rising momentarily in your throat until you lean into the coolness of the sink once again. Those same fingers that feel as if they had come from the depths of hell brush their way down over your sensitive skin until they find their way between your thighs. And much to your embarrassment, you’re wet. Biology was a cruel mean thing, your body was still hardwired to react to the man of your nightmares lest you want to face the consequences. Your bottom lip wobbles, thankful for the fact Dabi is preoccupied with his new discovery.

His laugh is loud and boisterous, almost manic with the way his eyes widened in disbelief. “You’re fucking wet. I knew it,” he breathes in hard, pushing his hips flush with your own and you can feel the twitch of his leaky cock between your cheeks. “I knew you missed me, I knew you still loved me. This pussy never lied to me, unlike someone.” His words sting, a jab directly into your heart.

He sounds hurt, upset that you’d actually try to lie and hide away from him. It has fresh tears pricking your eyes, how could you hurt someone like him? Someone who loved you so devotedly.

Long deft fingers prod and poke between your thighs, pulling your lips apart crudely to watch the strings of arousal snap and cling to your thighs. He’s still chuckling deep in his chest, elated with the newfound knowledge that you still want him in such a carnal way. He circles your clit in clumsy patterns, enough to have your thighs tensing up and hips arching into the pleasure you’re unwillingly receiving. But the thing about Dabi is—

He’s not a patient man.

The tip of his cock pierces your unprepared hole, the pain shoots from deep in your pelvis and ricochets up your spine until it tingles at the base of your skull. Your hands help brace yourself over the sink, your head drops down and you’re vaguely aware of the way your throat aches with a scream. His fingers find a home in hidden bruises, the sting of his metal staples heating against your skin is familiar. Dabi had always been big, thick and unforgiving with the piercings that he adorned. Each of the barbells digs into your velvety walls, his hips so flush with yours you’re not sure where you end and he begins anymore.

“Fuck, missed this too much. Thought I’d never get to feel your cunt wrapped around me again.” His words are vulgar, but they spark something to life in your brain. Something you hadn’t quite considered until now. Just how was he here? Last you heard Dabi was never getting out, he killed too many people and committed far too many crimes to just be let loose on the world again.

Though you never got to air the question, his hips drawback until they’re smacking back against your ass. The pace from there on out is brutal, the tip of his cock bullies itself into your clenching cunt until it hits against your cervix. Each tap feels like you’re being punched in the gut, your lips parted in a soundless scream.

The pain was too much, the ache in your head was getting steadily worse and the back-and-forth thrashing of your body was making you woozy. “D–Dabi…” You try to speak, the words slurred with the saliva that dribbles from your parted mouth and drips into the sink.

“What?” He snarls, grunting with the effort of how hard he’s fucking you.

“Hurts.” You reply with a gasp, his fingers instantly latching around your throat until you’re pulled up to face what you assume must be the Devil leering over your shoulder with the most disgruntled expression on his face.

You can smell the burning of flesh before the pain registers, the sizzling hardly audible over the sound of his hips slapping against your abused rear. “Yeah? Maybe it’ll teach you a fucking lesson. Next time you think about trying to leave me, you’ll remember how much it hurt.”

His fingers squeeze tighter around your throat until you can’t breathe, the horrid stench of marred flesh the only thing flooding your system when you desperately try to suck in air. Then you’re falling forward, your forehead plummeting with force against the mirror and you think you hear it smashing over the deafening ring in your ears. It feels like your head is being held under a pillow, like someone has pressed two large hands over your ears and held you there. Your throat burns, for a lack of a better word. The flesh bubbles and hisses with a reminder of Dabi’s words.

You’re not quite sure how much time has passed until you work up the strength to lift your gaze to the now-smashed mirror. The first thing you notice is the blood trickling down from a gash on your forehead, trailing down along the bridge of your nose until it meets the plumpness of your lips – filling the cracks with a metallic taste. Then you see it, the burn, it’s gnarly.

The flesh is hardly recognisable as flesh, it looks like butchered meat. It’s blistered already, layers of the skin open for the world to see and the sight finally does tip you over the edge. The bile doesn’t burn quite as much as the 3rd-degree handprint on your throat as you spill the contents of your stomach into the sink.

Dabi groans in anger, snarling as he retches you away from the sink and throws you onto all fours on the floor. “Disgusting fucking whore,” There’s something wet pressed to your mouth, a sponge you realise, as it drags roughly against your mouth until he forces it into your mouth. The scouring pad scrapes along your tongue, replacing the taste of vomit with soap. “Always making me clean up your messes.” Then it’s gone as fast as it came, your body being shoved and pushed until your back is against the bathmat and you’re staring up at Dabi who seems to be kneeling already between your thighs.

He wastes no time once again in pressing himself back inside of you, the stretch this time nowhere near as painful but it reignites the old ache of when he first forced himself inside. Your heart aches when you stare up at him, silhouetted by the flickering dim light of the bathroom bulb. It makes the white of his hair glow, angelic your brain supplies, but he was anything but an angel. His hands grab at your thighs, forcing them back until they uncomfortably press into your chest. The angle makes it hard to breathe, the furious pace he sets is agonising.

But your body is betraying you once again, the lewd squelch of your pussy is giving you away. A deep dark and twisted part of you has missed this, missed him. Missed the way he would fuck you like it was his last day on earth, like he had something to prove. It has an involuntary whimper leaving your throat, and of course, Dabi perks up at the sound – whilst he didn’t care much if you were silent the entire time, he always enjoyed the cute noises you’d make for him and only him. His eyes find yours, and you’re sucked into the endless expanse of the blinding blue Hellfire.

Dabi has a new goal in mind now, to fuck you the way he knows you liked to be fucked. His hips roll a little more fluidly, finding the old rhythm from all those years ago that surely would have your eyes rolling into the back of your head and your lips parting to sing him the most beautiful of songs with your moans. You don't disappoint him either, not when his thumb joins the fray and rubs languid circles against your puffy clit. The initial contact and stimulation have your hips jerking, fighting against the hold he has on you but it’s futile; he has you pinned beneath him much like a wolf would with its prey.

“There she is,” he grins when your fluttering eyes meet his, that contempt and confusion you had held onto for so long being replaced with a glassy look in your eye that must be lust. “There’s my fucking girl. Missed you so much baby, missed your cute noises. Y’gonna give me more, right? It’s the right thing to do, after all, you did hurt my feelings.” He still looks angelic angled over you like this, the shadows of his face almost hiding the glinting staples and scars that cover most of his body now. You can’t help but nod at his words, it’s the right thing to do, isn’t it?

Dabi groans at your assent, fucking into you somehow harder. The slap of his heavy balls against the rim of your ass is loud, the sticky sound of his hips meeting yours fuels your own impending orgasm.

Of course, Dabi knows it’s coming too, his thumb presses firmer against your clit and moves a little faster to edge you closer and closer whilst he drops his hips just enough to have the tip of his cock hitting that squishy spot that no one but him has been able to reach.

You can’t help but gasp and squeal, your back arching off of the floor until it slams back down when your orgasm hits you like a train. It’s violent, shakes through your bones like an earthquake would through a building. Your toes curl uncomfortably in the air, your thighs twitch in an attempt to close them to bar the man still torturing your clit from causing you any more pleasurable pain.

“Enough,” you try and push his hand away but Dabi never listens, he bats your hand away with a harsh slap that has your skin tingling in pain. “You’re gonna take it, like the good girl I know you are.”

“Can’t.”

“Yes you can,” He grapples your still twitching thighs until they tighten around his waist and then he’s diving down to your face. His breath is hot against your face, the smell of cigarette ash suffocates you.

“I know you can. Now kiss me.” He demands, and the fear of not obeying his command in such a compromising position has you indulging him. Your lips press against his, you work hard to try and keep yourself dispassionate but it’s impossible when he does the thing with the tip of his tongue – drags it along your bottom lip so delicately until he pries you open, lets the smooth expanse of his tongue coax yours out until he can suck on it.

The steadily rising heat of the kiss engulfs you, douses you in an indescribable warmth that you can’t help but lean into the familiarity of it. It’s intoxicating to let go of that fear, to detach yourself from the person you had become in the eight years of solitude and recede back into the one who was simply in love with a man who was willing to burn down the world at her feet. But you’ve never been allowed to live in the illusion you formulate to ignore the harsh reality of things, Dabi would never give you that luxury.

His lips part from yours with a wet smack, saliva coating your lips and he grins again. The staples in his cheeks almost look like they might split as he stares at you, splayed out with a faraway look in your eye when you stare up at him.

“Gonna cum inside this beautiful pussy,” he breathes, eyes coming to life when your eyes slowly start to refocus on him and the words he’s letting spill from his saccharine mouth. “Fill you up nice and good with my cum, get you pregnant so you can never fucking leave me.”

What? Is that what he wanted? You squirm in an attempt to get away from him, but he keeps you uncomfortably pinned in a deep mating press whilst his cock bullies itself deeper – you hadn’t even noticed the way it was twitching so harshly in the depths of your pussy until now. He was too close, he was really going to do it—

“Oh fuck, yeah, squeeze me like that baby. I knew you wanted me to breed you.” You don’t, you don’t want to be trapped with his child. It’s the ultimate thing he would hold over your head until the end of time, you could never escape him if you gave birth to a child that had the same dangerous eyes as his. “Aw, doll, don’t cry. It’s okay, I won’t leave you to raise the brat on its own. I’ll be there, always.” You hadn’t even realised you were crying until he mentioned it.

The groan that rumbles deep in Dabi’s chest and vibrates up through his throat is something you would never, ever, forget. It was a sound that meant only one thing; he was about to cum. You feel the twitch before the first spurt of molten cum paints your insides. That burn of your insides is something you had grown accustomed to after the time spent with Dabi, he had said it was because of his quirk. Everything about him was just hotter.

He holds himself balls deep in your dripping cunt, uncaring at the shuddering sob that shakes your body at the realisation that he’s going to keep his promise of making sure you get pregnant. The thought has your eyes closing, your head far too sore to think about what might just happen if you were to get pregnant with Dabi’s child.

Your body is limp when he effortlessly picks you up eventually, tucking his hands under your armpits before your feet are placed in something cold and wet. Your body starts with a jolt, your skin pricking with gooseflesh before you’re forced to sit down in the bathtub. Just how much time had passed for the bath to grow cold?

A warm chest is pressed to your back, pulling you effortlessly between long defined legs and arms loop around you like a safety belt. Dabi holds you there, his fingers stroking delicately along the skin he had bruised and marred not too long ago. You could almost fall into the allusion of him being a lover, a man who was simply giving you the aftercare you need.

The bath bubbles around you with the raising temperature, his skin is too hot for you to be laid up against like this and you can feel the staples burning their way into your flesh but you can’t find the strength anymore to fight back. He pushes you forward slightly to reach for a washcloth, dipping it into the scorching water and slowly but carefully dragging it along your bloodied skin. He doesn't go near the wound on your throat.

It feels like no time has passed at all since he left you and now, those eight years apart squashed into nothing when he noses his way into your hair and breathes in.

“How did you find me?” You speak eventually, Dabi remains silent for a moment and that only makes you worry more.

“I always knew where you were. You shouldn’t trust everyone you meet.”

And if that wasn’t the truth.

#tw noncon #cw noncon #tw baby trapping #cw dark content #dabi x reader #touya todoroki x reader #touya x reader #bnha fanfiction #bnha x you #dabi smut #touya todoroki smut #touya smut #dabi x you

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tyblackthornsheadphones · 7 months

Note

Hiya! Maybe some hurt and comfort fic with the moon boys after the reader got hurt in a street scuffle thing? :)

i reread this only once and yes, i did notice the inconsistent verb tenses but honestly i don’t have the energy to go back and change it. i tried to keep physical descriptions of the reader to a minimum so it should be gender neutral and any race. if not, please let me know so i can fix it.

i also kind of forgot the reader was supposed to be hurt and wrote it more emotional but i hope it’s fine anyway. (i’m so bad at following requests i’m so sorry)

if you wanna support me you can buy me a ko-fi.

the two men had come out of nowhere, forcing you into an alleyway under the dark cover of the night. your only comfort was the thought that your boys were watching the city for these exact types of people, maybe they would come save you. and if you managed to hold off the two men for just long enough, you could get out of this alive.

you weren’t a fighter. marc had taught you basic self-defence, but even so you wouldn’t have been able to take on two big, buff men with guns and eyes that spoke of deranged thoughts and lack of care for any life but their own.

the rest was a blur. a white caped hero throwing punches, a body jumping in front of your own, blood on the concrete and on gloved hands.

“let’s get you home, amor.”

jake was angry, you could hear it in his tone, but you were still frozen in fear from the encounter, your mind buzzing yet simultaneously unable to string together any coherent thoughts. so you didn’t respond, and he carried you home in his arms, jumping into the loft through the window you always kept open for him on nights like these, the one you’d forgotten to close before leaving.

you have a routine for when your boys come back from their duties as moonknight. the suit heals their wounds, but it doesn’t wash away the blood. you run a warm cloth over their skin until the blood and grime is all washed off, a slow repetitive process that gives their mind the time to deal with the violence they committed and store away the memories somewhere far back.

it’s easy to let your muscle memory take over.

“you don’t have to do that tonight,” jake says, “let us take care of you. we want to make sure you’re alright after that.”

you shake your head. there’s still a part of you that’s numb, and you don’t think you could put your feelings into words, you don’t think there’s any real way to voice the way you were convinced you were going to die, the way your brain flashed through everything you regret and your friends you haven’t seen in a while and the goals you’d never accomplish.

the suit falls away and it’s just your jake. not the hero of london or the fist of vengeance, just your worried boyfriend.

you clean his knuckles of the blood that always somehow manages to seep through the bandages that make up their suit. his body tenses, and when you look up, you meet marc’s eyes. his jaw is clenched in a way that you recognise, he wants to speak but doesn’t quite know how to say it, he’s worried talking about it might not be what you need right now.

“i’m sorry,” you say finally, “for going out. a friend needed my help and i thought i could walk back home after. i didn’t think…”

“not your fault,” marc replies, “we should’ve gotten them before they even had the chance to touch you.”

“it’s not your fault either, you know,” you put the dirty cloth down.

he shakes his head. there’s no point in having this argument, it’s the same every time. you argue that it’s impossible to save everyone, that london is a huge city and they’re just one body that can only accomplish so much. marc’s dumb guilty conscience convinces him that any person he can’t save in time is blood on his hands, not the fault of the criminals who committed the act, but his for not being able to save them.

you understand why, and the fights always come back to the same thing.

the last remnants of adrenaline are fading and your hands grow shaky. marc leads you to bed, but you know this is the part where he leaves, back into the headspace while one of the others (usually steven) hold you under the safety of the blankets. he likes to take care of you, to provide, but he still struggles to be soft.

“i was so scared,” you finally admit when the lights are turned off and the room is dark and the boys can’t see your face. it’s easier to admit when you don’t have to look into the eyes of the men who act as london’s protectors, constantly in dangerous situations. you don’t have to deal with the feelings of inferiority, like comparing yourself to marc’s strong and brave ex-wife who would surely have been able to defend herself.

you don’t even know which one is fronting. maybe they all are. when the tears start to fall, all you care about is the comforting familiarity of the strong arms around you and the scent of the men you love.

153 notes · View notes

queenshelby · 1 year

Text

Forbidden Desire (Part Five)

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Reader (Female/Incestuous)

Warnings: Incest (at this stage accidental), Age Gap, PTSD, Domestic Abuse, Self-Harm, Fluff, Smut

Words: 5,456

Summary:

This plays after Grace’s death but before Tommy becomes a politician. Lizzie is pregnant with Tommy’s child, so it is somewhere around season four.

In this fic, Tommy suffers from episodes of PTSD and so does the reader, resulting from trauma and abuse. They will help and save each other without realising that their connection is much stronger than they could have anticipated.

There will be love, fluff and smut as well as a highly taboo relationship.

PLEASE COMMENT AND ENGAGE!

QUESTION: WHO IS TOMMY TO THE READER? WHOOPS!

Two hours later, at Arrow House…

Luckily for you, Tommy had left you with his car when leaving the library abruptly last night. It was dark already and, according to Arthur, there was no time to drop you off at your house.

Along with his car, Tommy gave you his address and, after some nagging, you had Linda spell it out to you and give you directions.

His house was outside Birmingham and, when she referred to it as Arrow House, you knew straight away where it was. The house used to belong to a politician who was famous in Birmingham for all the wrong reasons.

He was a criminal just like Tommy himself but, in the end, was poisoned by a very jealous wife.

With that story in mind, you knew your way around and, at around midday, you pulled up in front of the large mansion.

Just as you parked the car and turned off the engine, you were greeted by a woman dressed in black. She was a maid and probably in her late forties.

“May I help you, ma’am” was what the woman said, recognising Tommy’s car. You clearly did not look like a threat to her so she approached you without concern.

“I am here to see Thomas Shelby” you told her while stepping towards the front door while she tried hard to hold you back.

“Mr Shelby does not wish to be disturbed today” she then told you while reaching for your shoulder, which was a manoeuvre that frightened you just a little.

“Please don’t touch me” you cautioned her gently as, suddenly, you heard a familiar voice.

“It’s fine Frances. Let her in, eh” you heard Tommy say from the hallway and, as you walked into the large foyer, you watched him walking down the stairs wearing nothing but black suit pants.

His otherwise naked chest was covered by a large white bandage, wrapping around his right shoulder as well and, just as he spoke to you, he was smoking a cigarette.

“What are you doing here Love? Shouldn’t you be at the gambling den?” he asked surprised to see you and whilst you were worried about him having been shot, you did not address it just yet. You were here to confront him and this was what you were determined to do.

‘Is it true?” you thus asked instead while your eyes were glued to his chest.

‘Is what true?” Tommy asked before reaching for your hand gently, but you pulled away from him with the request not to touch you.

“Alright. No touching” he determined before he asked you to follow him and you nodded in agreement, before doing so quietly, keeping your distance from him until, eventually, he led you to what appeared to be his reading room.

Without saying a word, you sat down on the large red lounge in the middle of the room while Tommy poured you and himself a glass of whiskey.

“Now tell me Love, is what true? Why are you here, eh?” he asked again while handing you the glass and you took a quick sip before placing it on to the small coffee table in front of you.

“Are you just using me to find my stepfather? Is that why you asked me all those questions about him the other day?” you asked almost reluctantly, wanting it to be nothing but a lie.

“What gave you that idea?” Tommy chuckled before taking a seat next to you. He placed his glass on to the coffee table as well and then pushed his cigarette into the ashtray in front of him.

“Linda told me everything” you told Tommy as a few silent tears escaped your eyes.

“I doubt that she told you everything” Tommy chuckled again.

“Why? What makes you say that?” you wondered while Tommy slowly wiped away your tears, using his thumbs.

“Linda does not know what I know” Tommy then told you while caressing your cheeks.

“What is it that you want from me Thomas?” you then blurted out, taken by the gentle nature of his touch. You were overcome with emotions and just needed to know what he truly felt for you.

“I want you” Tommy responded gently while attempting to kiss you but, again, you pushed him away. You did not believe him.

“Bullshit. You want to recover the money my stepfather owes you. Linda told me” you cried while trying to turn away from Tommy but he would not allow it.

“Look at me” Tommy said almost desperately and you did so reluctantly.

“Initially, yes, this is what I wanted to do. I wanted to use you to find your stepfather” Tommy admitted before making yet another admission to you. “I also wanted to fuck you from the moment I first laid eyes on you. I thought that you were a whore and I thought that, somehow, I could buy you. Because this is the kind of man I am. I use people and pay women to fuck. I don’t do romance” Tommy then said while, again, reaching for your face gently but you would not have any of it.

“Get your fucking hands off me” you spat after having heard his admissions but Tommy would not leave it alone.

“I am not finished yet Love and need you to listen to me, eh” Tommy requested. He was not done talking yet and, for some reason, you continued to listen.

“I wanted to use you, yes…but that was before I fell for you and before I wanted to be with you so fucking badly that I no longer care about the money” Tommy then said much more reluctantly before, eventually, telling you what happened last night.

“Arthur killed your stepfather last night. He did beat me to it and, yes, this is also the kind of man I am. I have done bad things Y/N, but you need to understand that this doesn’t change the fact that I am falling in love with you” Tommy finally admitted and your chin dropped. You weren’t sure whether you should be more surprised by the fact that your stepfather is dead or by the fact that a man like Thomas Shelby just admitted his feelings to you.

“You killed my stepfather?” you asked first, thinking that this is the issue that would need to be addressed first.

“No, Arthur did” Tommy said almost bluntly and without regret.

“But what about the money then? You will not be able to recover it now that he is dead. I do not understand Tommy. And why Arthur?” you asked and the truth was that you had so many questions.

“Like I said, I no longer care about the money. What he did to you is what matters to me. He hurt you and this is why I allowed Arthur to kill him. Vengeance can be a powerful thing and Arthur had his own motives for putting a bullet into his head” Tommy told you while making a third attempt to reach for your hands and, this time around, you let him.

“Oh my god” you then gasped and you weren’t sure whether it was hatred or relief that you felt.

“I am sorry Y/N. You probably should not have gotten involved with me. These are the things I do” Tommy said honestly and this time around you chuckled through your tears.

“My mother warned me about men like you” you admitted, seeing that she had warned you about the gangs in the region as well as the men who run the factories there. Of course, your mother had different motives for this, but you did not know this.

“Your mother is a wise woman then and, in case you did not know, my brother used to be in love with her but she chose your stepfather instead” Tommy said, explaining his brother’s motives. “Needless to say, you cannot tell Linda any of this. For all she knows, Arthur shot a man simply to protect me” Tommy then explained and you nodded.

“Does Arthur know about me and what my stepfather did to me?” you asked, wondering what Tommy had told him.

“Yes, he knows about you, but I did not tell him about the abuse. He was devastated when he found that, not only, did your mother marry your stepfather in the end, but also did she have a child with someone else whom he knew nothing about” Tommy then explained before telling you that Arthur was now determined to find out who your father was.

“My father is dead, Tommy. So why does it matter to your brother now? He is married to Linda” you pointed out.

“Closure I suppose” Tommy determined. “Your mother broke his heart which is also the reason I wanted to hide my feelings for you from him” Tommy explained, causing you to chuckle.

“Why?” you asked, thinking that this kind of behaviour was childish.

“Because it feels a little inappropriate, eh. My brother was in love with your mother and now I am in love with you. You are her fucking daughter…” Tommy explained and you were quick to interrupt him.

“You and your brother just shot a man and you are worried about being in a relationship that might be seen as a little inappropriate? Jesus Tommy, it is not that we are fucking related” you laughed, causing Tommy to nod reluctantly before, once again, caressing your face.

“I suppose” Tommy chuckled. “So, do you forgive me?” he wanted to know and you smirked.

“That depends…” you teased.

“On what?” Tommy wanted to know, causing you to bite your lower lip seductively.

“Well, do you remember how we spoke about taking pleasure in intimacy last night? That was before your brother interrupted us…” you said, causing Tommy to furrow his eyebrows.

“Yes, I remember” he responded and you smirked again.

“Good, because that is what I want you to do. I want you to show me pleasure and, if you do, I may forgive you” you told him nervously and with blushing cheeks.

“You want me to show you pleasure, eh?” Tommy chuckled while running his thumb over your lower lip.

“Yes, although perhaps we should wait until your wounds have healed. Linda said you were shot, so…” you began to say while Tommy stood and reached for your hand.

“Trust me Love, I am fine. Come on” he interrupted you mid-sentence before pulling up from where you were sitting.

“Where are we going?” you asked nervously.

“To my bedroom, unless you want one of the maids to watch?” Tommy teased and you nodded nervously.

“No, I do not” you told him.

“I did not think so” Tommy chuckled before showing the way.

***

You followed Tommy upstairs and he let the way into his bedroom which was specious and beautifully appointed.

There was a large cedar framed bed in front of a large window and the crisp air startled you for a moment before, eventually, you began to enjoy the breeze.

Tommy approached you after, for a moment, you glanced towards the large bed. He could tell that you were nervous, so he caressed your face gently again after approaching you and then you stood there, silently, just staring at each other.

Tommy’s hands then moved to yours and you could feel his fingers rubbing up and along yours as he was holding your hand. Your heart was pumping out of your chest and you were nervous, because even though you did not want to leave. you were not sure what was coming next.

“Tommy, I need you to go slow’” you whispered out just before Tommy slid his free hand along the side of your face and you looked deeply into each other's eyes as he stepped in a bit closer.

“Don’t worry Love, I am not a man who likes to rush things” he reassured you and you certainly appreciated his patience.

Tommy then tilted his head slightly and leaned in. He placed a soft closed lip kiss on your lips and your initial reaction was to back away, but the intensity of the moment kept you frozen in place. Your mind was racing at speeds you couldn't even comprehend and you were beyond scared and extremely nervous about what he might do to you.

Tommy then leaned in again and, before you could even make up your mind, he kissed you again. This time, when your lips touched your mouth opened. Your tongue met his and you kissed deeply, softly and slowly, just feeling each other out.

You got so enamoured by kissing him that you forgot all about your surroundings and started to slide your hands up and along the outsides of Tommy’s arms. Tommy pulled in tighter up against your body and you could feel his erection pressing against you.

“God, I love kissing you” you told Tommy as you felt a tingling inside of you that you never felt before. Your body was trembling and your pulse was rapid.

“Good, because I love kissing you too Love” Tommy said after he pulled away from your kiss and started to lightly kiss up and along your neckline instead.

“Is it alright if I keep kissing you here? And then, perhaps, here too?” Tommy whispered against your skin as his hand slowly travelled from your face, over your neck and then all the way to one oof your breasts.

“Oh god yes” you moaned as you were so turned on by hearing his words that you felt yourself getting wet.

You pulled him in closer and Tommy's hand slid up and down the sides of your ribs as our passion heightened. You had no idea what you were doing, or where this was going, but you were turned on and you was liking this.

Eventually, Tommy's hand came to rest on your left breast, over your blouse and you gasped as his palm caressed your chest until, eventually, Tommy pulled his hand away slightly.

Without breaking your kiss, he started to unbutton your blouse, flinging it open as he got done with the last button. He then dropped it to the floor and continued with your bra, slowly loosing the back before disposing of it as well.

"You are beautiful” Tommy then whispered to you after pulling away from you and whilst you felt the need to cover up your breasts, you restrained yourself from doing exactly that. Instead, you took up some courage and quickly wiggled yourself out of your skirt as well, leaving you standing there, in front of Tommy, wearing nothing but some heels and your panties.

“Fucking perfect” he then said and you giggled in response to his comment while kicking off your shoes.

“Oh, please…” you moaned as Tommy's head dipped down onto your lower neck again. You were not sure what you were pleading for but it must have been something.

“Lay down for me Love” Tommy then ordered gently as his warm lips and tongue whirled along your skin and you gave him a quick nod before stepping backwards and laying down his rather large and comfortable bed.

“Fuck” you exhaled as your head met the pillow.

“It’s aright Love, I will just touch and kiss you slowly until you get used to it, eh?” he said reassuringly from where he was still standing.

He was perfect in every way and you were mesmerised by how handsome he was even despite several scars which he clearly had inherited from being shot.

After not too long, Tommy then joined you on the bed. He kissed you again gently before, finally, telling you to close your eyes but you shook your head. You were not ready for that.

“Remember, I will stop whenever you say stop, eh. I will not force you to do anything Love” Tommy then told you again and, this time around, you nodded nervously.

“Promise?” you asked after he gave you another tender and loving kiss.

“I promise” he then responded and, with that, you closed your eyes and tried to concentrate on the feeling of Tommy’s gentle touch while trying to ignore the growing desire to feel his weight on top of you.

It was confusing to say the least but also god damn sensual.

Slowly, Tommy began to run his fingers over your arms, then your stomach and then all the way up to your now naked breasts. In between, he kissed you passionately on the mouth before nibbling on your ear and neck.

All these sensations were driving you insane and, after as little as ten minutes or so, you could not relax anymore. You were getting more and more comfortable now and you were also getting aroused by his caresses.

This man, who you had met less than two weeks ago, was slowly earning your trust all while fuelling your need and, with that, you could not keep your eyes closed any longer. You had to watch what he was doing to you. You had to see the movements of his muscles now that you could.

‘Tommy’ you thus whispered slowly and he responded immediately.

‘Do you want me to stop?’ he wanted to know but you shook your head.

‘No. I want to watch you’ you told him, earning you a quiet chuckle from Tommy.

‘Then by all means Love, open your eyes” he said and so you did before, abruptly, looking down on yourself.

You could not remember when your nipples had popped to attention but you saw them now, standing proud against the dark circles around them. They bobbed up and down with your panting breath. You could hardly bear the anticipation of what his hands would feel like as he touched them knowing that, clearly, he would have noticed your arousal by now.

Tommy was not looking you up though. He was much more timid than that. He took his time and smiled while gazing into your eyes.

Your eyes met his and your mouth wanted to speak but nothing came out. You swallowed and tried again.

"What is it Love?” Tommy asked as your skin caught underneath his powerful grip, but nothing came from your lips. You remained silent.

“Tell me what it is that you want me to do” Tommy then told you reassuringly and, after a heart-stopping moment of tension, you nodded and tried once more.

“Could you, uhm…” you began to say nervously as you felt a jolt of desire race through you.

“Could I what?” Tommy smirked just as you dropped your hands down to your breasts and squeezed them. It was a brief release but the contact was just fanning the flames of lust.

"Could you touch me here?" you asked shyly and with blushing cheeks causing Tommy to lean down and kiss you once more.

You could sense him smiling against your lips and, when he traced his mouth over your neck and towards your ear, goosebumps suddenly began to cover your naked skin.

“It would be my pleasure…” Tommy then whispered, adoring your shyness and, just he nibbled on your ear momentarily again, a loud moan escaped you.

Then, Tommy looked at you again and traced his way across you until his large hands were covering your breasts. Tearing your eyes away from his, you gasped at the image in front of you. Your supple flesh fit perfectly into his hands and you immediately got lost in pleasure.

“Like that?” Tommy teased as he began to knead them and rub his fingers over your nipples.

You let out a moan and now you really needed him, needed to feel those lips on yours again. You reached up for him but he was already stooping down to kiss you. You felt a tiny puff of indignance that you were so easy to read, but then your lips were meshing with his and you forgot all about that.

You ran your fingers into Tommy’s hair and kissed urgently up at him. You loved making out with him so much that you would be content to just lie there, together, kissing for hours. He was gentle with you and you were developing strong feelings for him.

“Keep going” you eventually demanded as Tommy flicked one of your nipples with one of his fingers and you hummed your pleasure into his lips.

Then, without warning his mouth was gone and you gasped in a deep lungful of air as he started to kiss a trail around your mouth and chin and into your neck.

“Keep going Tommy. Please” you said again as your core twitched in surprise as you felt a rough hand move across your stomach. His fingers trailed lines of fire down your body as he caressed your smooth skin, drifting down, and down, tantalisingly closer to the heat between your legs.

“Keep going” you shuddered once more in anticipation.

“Where do you want me to touch you Love? I need you to say it” Tommy then teased as the sensations of his kisses at your neck and the touch of his soft hair underneath your fingertips now drove you absolutely crazy.

“Down there…In between my legs…please” you gasped, even though you had never been touched there before.

“Be specific” Tommy grinned as he reached the area just below your navel and his hand slowed even more; tracing some swirling pattern across your skin there.

“Tommy…please” you begged. Your hips bucked up off the mattress involuntarily as the hand stopped completely just as it reached your thighs. You growled in frustration and lust and Tommy simply smiled.

“Tell me Love, where exactly do you want me to touch you?” Tommy teased as you squeezed his head in your hand. You then pushed him back and locked your eyes with his.

“Fuck Tommy” you said as you reached up again and grabbed his hair tightly. You saw his grin widen briefly before he spoke again.

“Tell me…” he mused, causing you to bite your lower lip.

“I want you to kiss my breasts and touch my pussy” you then blurted out, blushing as you did and this caused Tommy to smile.

“Then why didn’t you say so, eh?” he teased before dropped his head to your aching breasts and you gasped at the jolt of electricity that forked down your body as he nipped at a nipple before softening his mouth around it.

“Holy fucking Christ” you screamed as the warm suction, the friction of his nose on your chest, the feeling of his hair between your fingers; all of the sensations bleeding into one another. But all of them a distraction. His hand tickled and edged its way downwards still, hovering over your hot core.

“Please! Tommy!” you then gasped in desperation. Enough was enough and, as he kept teasing you still, you grabbed his hand and forced it down, beneath your panties, just as you bucked upwards again. His fingers parted your lips and now he could feel just how wet you were.

“You are soaking wet Love” Tommy observed and you moaned loudly at the contact and fell back flat against the bed. His fingers pressed on firmly into your sex as his other hand caressed your hair and cheek. Your mouth opened as your moan turned into a deep sigh. His left thumb dipped into your mouth and you bit down on it as his right hand moved through your wet folds, one thick finger pushing inside of you. Your eyes closed and you moaned around his thumb. Fuck, this was intense.

“And so fucking tight” Tommy then groaned as, eventually, he pulled his head back from your chest after sucking and nibbling on your breasts. He smiled at you, quietly this time, and your hips gyrated and thrust against his touch, but he never slowed his steady rhythm.

‘Tommy’ you moaned as you gripped his forearm as an intense wave of pleasure pulsed out from your clit all the way down to your toes. You could feel the strength locked away in the muscles of his arm and you knew you was utterly at his mercy. It was absolutely terrifying and enticing at the same time but you couldn't concentrate on that feeling, the lightning racing around your body was too distracting. You opened your eyes and felt another gush of heat from your pussy as you looked up into Tommy’s staring down at you.

You trusted him, more than any other man before as blue eyes filled with lust and a burning intensity looked down on you. God, you felt like you could cum just from looking at those beautiful things. It was insane.

"You never had sex, did you?” Tommy then said, almost gently. He assumed as much but you never quite told him how far you had gone with anyone before.

‘No and I swear that I have never been touched like this before either’ you then said and gasped as his finger slid up your wet crease again and then slowly circled your pulsing clit.

“Did you ever touch yourself?” Tommy then asked and you shook your head again.

“Only briefly, a few times, but it never quite felt like this” you panted and Tommy smirked and, every time you felt like you were getting used to his ministrations, he changed his rhythm or set a different part of you on fire. He was playing your like an instrument; learning your reactions to different movements and sensations, drawing out a sharp pulse of pleasure from your body before moving on and building another layer to it.

But then, his hand was gone from your pussy and the air was a mild shock against your exposed core. You strained your neck down and watched as he suddenly plunged his finger back into you. The sensation was shocking but the wet sound of your pussy greedily pulling him in was what drew another ragged moan from your lungs. One excruciating heartbeat of feeling filled and then he withdrew again.

“Oh god, I am…fuck…I don’t know what’s happening to me” you moaned as another obscene noise filled the room. You felt like you were losing your mind. With every thrust of pressure inside your there came an accompanying sound and you could not tell which one turned you on more. You could hear just how aroused you were; your pussy exposed, and probably dripping, with your legs spread as far as they could.

“You are feeling pleasure Love. Allow your body to relax into it” Tommy said as, once again, he began to build a steady rhythm, getting a little faster but still pausing momentarily before fingering you again, and again. His other hand caressed your breasts, your nipples, your neck, your shoulders; your skin, welcoming his swirling movements. His touch was gentle and caring, just as he had promised. But there was also arousal, a lot of it.

Eventually, after a while, you saw that hungry look on Tommy’s face. He knew that you were close to cumming and you felt drunk on the waves of pleasure sparking over you.

“Tommy” you screamed again as the slow torture of Tommy’s touch had been incredibly sensual but you didn't think that you would ever feel like this. You felt slutty and embarrassed but there was no time to care. Your core tightened and you were just aware of your back arching off the bed and your hips pushing upwards.

“Let it happen. Don’t hold back” Tommy said. He clearly knew what was happening because he snaked his free hand back down your body and began rubbing your clit. He pushed firmly, but not too hard, and made tight circles around it. He kept the same steady firm pace into your pussy but the pleasure and raw heat suddenly pulsing into your brain from your clit was just as strong now. You felt like your senses were being overloaded. You could feel you were past the point of no return, just waiting to fall until you gasped in a final, ragged breath and then you were gone.

“Holy Shit! Fuck! Tomm…” you screamed. Someone moaning and writhing around in ecstasy but it could not have been you, because you were somewhere else. Your mind slipped into a fog and the raw energy of your orgasm raced through where your body should have been. You shuddered and twisted and then, as if a switch had been flicked inside your nervous system, you began to feel things from the sensitive parts of your body.

Your pussy clenched around something filling you up. Your abs contracted almost painfully. Then the rest of your body slowly came back to you and you let out a long breath as everything relaxed and you collapsed against the bed. Everything was too bright and raw. You let out another gasp of breath as Tommy pulled his fingers out of you. You looked up at him and saw a wide smile across his handsome features. Your cheeks and chest felt incredibly hot, as if they were burning. As you basked in the aftermath of your orgasm you faintly wondered if you should say something. Or whether you could say something to him.

“What the fuck was this?” you eventually blurted out and Tommy smiled widely.

“You had an orgasm” he told you before leaning in and kissing you again.

“I never felt this before” you admitted before looking down on your body again, seeing that your panties were covered in your juices now and so was the bed. There was a huge puddle and you wondered whether you had wet yourself, but decided not to ask. This was embarrassing and, yet, Tommy appeared to be rather pleased with himself.

“You probably should get some rest now Love” he said but you watched him closely. Just like the men you had seen at the brothel, he was clearly aroused and you wondered whether you could make him orgasm as well.

“I am not tired Tommy” you thus told him before slowly tracing your fingers over his chest. “May I touch you as well?” you then asked and he told you gently that you did not have to do anything like this, if you did not want to.

“But I want to Tommy. Let me make you feel the way you just made me feel” you determined just as you heard a loud knock on the door to Tommy’s bedroom.

“Fuck” Tommy cursed before walking to the door while you covered yourself up.

“What is it, Frances?” Tommy then asked, causing the maid to blush.

“You have a visitor sir” Frances announced and you watched as Tommy rolled his eyes.

“Tell whoever it is that I am fucking busy” Tommy told her just as you both heard some footsteps and the click of high heel, approaching…

To be continued…

Please comment and engage. I love getting comments and predictions pretty please!

Tommy Shelby Tag List:

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angellbarnes · 1 year

Text

denial is best served hot

day 2 - rivals

pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

summary: it's a competition between you two, always. every mission. this one, though, turns out a little differently than you'd expected.

word count: 3.8k

warnings: very very brief mention of blood, criminals, violence, 18+, dry humping, hands stuff but over clothes, utterly filthy dirty talk, horny asf Bucky

A/N: so I'm finally posting. day 2 of my 30 day writing challenge... 12 days later. but that's besides the point. the point is, it's posted and I wayy underestimated how busy I was going to feel after posting the first part. hopefully it'll be more regular from now on, but I think I'd rather take a lil more time on these fics and have the 30 days a bit more flexible, than rush out some that I know I could do so much better on. anyway, please enjoy☺️🤍

You’re heading towards the meeting room after being called for a mission. The lift stops on Bucky’s floor and he steps in. You side eye each other as the doors close. It’s tense, but comfortable, as the atmosphere usually is between you two.

“What do you think the mission is?” You ask him.

“Whatever it is, just know that I’ll do it better.” You can sense his smirk while keeping your gaze forward.

“In your dreams, Barnes.” The doors open and you pat his chest before walking off. “In your dreams.”

He follows with a huff.

A friendly rivalry is the way you two put it. It may not come across so friendly, but no harm has ever been done by it. Just a constant competition between you to prove who is the “better” Avenger. You even tried to get everyone to answer a questionnaire about it. To which you only got two replies: Sam who, with no hesitation, answered you, and Tony who simply wrote down his own name.

It all started during a mission, when you and Bucky had decided to take separate hallways, which conveniently had the same number of opposing agents down each, and see who could take them the fastest. The winner, so be it, was the one who reached the adjoining room first. He made it first, and you’d tried to argue your case, wiping blood from your face, and he’d come out clean as a whistle. You made it your mission, from then on, to prove his arrogant ass wrong, and smack the smug grin clean off his pretty face. He bragged about this for ages, and you desperately wanted something to boast, and humiliate him, about.

Fury is waiting in the meeting room when you walk in. You seem to be the only ones there.

“Where’s everyone else?” You question.

“Oh, there is no one else.” Fury states. “It’s just going to be the two of you. We need to be as discreet as possible, so we want to keep numbers low.”

You and Bucky glance at each other, silent competition instantly arising.

“So, what is the mission?” Bucky enquires.

“A guy, to put it simply.” Fury replies. “Or, an underground drug and crime lord associated with multiple different gangs, groups and countries and is very, very dangerous. Murder, torture, kidnap, fraud, theft, you name it, he’s done it. But this guy is damn hard to catch. We have a lead at the moment, the best one we’ve had, to an underground club. Criminals only, essentially. Called ‘The KillOut’.”

“Ohh, I get it. It’s like chill out, but kill out, right?” Bar the reason for it, you quite like the name.

“Wait a second, I recognise that name. I think I’ve been there. Before. As the Winter Soldier, that is.” Bucky says, a concerned frown upon his face.

“So, what, you’re sending us there? How will we even get in?” You ask. Fury taps the screen he’s holding, and projects it to the one behind. Two profiles show up.

‘Your new aliases.” He responds. “Bucky, I’m afraid you’ll be returning as the Winter Soldier. They already know you, admire you. We’ve got a new arm for you to wear that is identical to your old one. I know it’ll be hard, but you’re just gonna have to, ok?”

Bucky takes a deep breath and simply nods at Fury’s request.

“Y/L/N, you’re now going as Betty Smalls, a seemingly innocent but seductive accomplice of the Winter Soldier. You’re an angel by day but the devil by night, so be it. Make it believable, you two. Our aim is to get him alone, so we have a way of restraining him and taking him away. You have a few hours to prepare and get ready, and your outfits are waiting for you back upstairs.” And with that, Fury sends the two of you off again.

You both receive your profiles whilst in the lift, and a copy of the mission report and what needs to go down in order for it to be successful.

“Be prepared to fail, Barnes, and for me to rise from your ashes as the saviour for this team. Not even sure why you should bother coming along.” You tease.

“I’m the Winter Soldier, sweetheart. You wouldn’t even be able to attend without me.” He quips back.

“Fine. But that’s all you’re going to be good for.”

“See you later, Betty.” Bucky says as he gets out on his floor. He turns and you simply salute him, with a ‘See ya, soldier’ as the doors close on you.

You reach your room and, sure enough, your outfit it layed out, with Nat holding a pair of strappy black heels beside.

“Pretty cute, huh?” She comments.

“Hmm.” You stare at the longline and elegant black dress, the long, white fur coat, and the heels once again and question what led you to this moment. “Hello, Betty.”

~~~

You get to the car that’s waiting for you, barely making it there with both of your ankles in one piece. Bucky is already there waiting. You’d be lying if you said he didn’t look hot as hell clad in leather like that, trousers clinging to his thick thighs. You clear your throat and compose your dirty thoughts as you approach.

“Wow,” he coos as he looks you up and down. “Betty looks good.” You wonder if the complement is for you too. Either way, you can feel a small butterfly going crazy in your stomach, having his eyes rake over you like that. He almost looks hungry.

“Take a picture, Buck. It’ll last longer.” You smirk, crossing your arms, unaware that it’s just enhanced your cleavage. Bucky has to tear his eyes away, feeling a sudden tightness in his trousers. “Anyway, Betty has almost broken both of her ankles in these ridiculous shoes. They’re something I should be looking at, not wearing.” You let yourself flop down into the backseat. Bucky chuckles and shuts your door, heading to the other side and sitting down beside you. You both put in your ear pieces and the driver starts the car.

“You guys ready?” Fury’s voice rings in your ear.

“Ready.” You say simultaneously.

~~~

You both get out of the car, Bucky offering his arm, which you take, before heading to the entrance. There are two huge – huge – men covering the doors. Alas, you keep your confident visage. You’re a criminal now, remember?

“I’m not Bucky anymore, ok?” Bucky whispers, face oh so close to yours. A shiver runs through you. “Call me soldier, tonight. I don’t care how stupid it is, that’s how I am – was – known.” You turn your face, unaware of how close you’d be to him.

“Ok.” You breathe. You carry on walking towards the front of what looks like an abandoned warehouse.

You see the men squint at Bucky, perhaps recognising him. Then look to you. It seems your outfit is enough to distract them as they look at each other and begin whistling and commenting. You roll your eyes to yourself.

“Soldat.” They both say, standing tall in front of who they think is still the Winter Soldier. Bucky simply glares at them. “And who’s this treat?” One of them says, turning to you.

“Betty Smalls, pleased to meet you.” You smile seductively through your lashes, clinging to Bucky’s arm, one hand upon his chest.

“The pleasure is all ours, sweetheart.” You cringe at them but keep up the act.

“She’s with me.” Bucky deadpans to them. They both clear their throats, stepping to the side and opening the doors for them. You blow a kiss as you walk through, turning to wink at the other. God, men are so easy to fool in a tight dress and lipgloss.

You head down some stairs, turning left at the bottom and, there it is, above another door, a neon sign with the words “the KillOut” in glowing red.

‘Here we go.” You say to Bucky. He gives you a tight-lipped smile.

“Betty.” He says.

“Soldier.” And with that, he opens the door and you’re exposed to an entirely different world. A world full of people, criminals, who look just like anyone else would in a club. You keep your cool as Bucky leads you to the bar. There are many eyes on the two of you, whispers between everybody and the Winter Soldier and his girl walk through. All Bucky has to do is look at someone with his intense stare and they’ll move out the way. It’s kinda hot, you think to yourself.

“An old fashioned for me and a pornstar martini for the lady.” Bucky says to the bartender. You flash him a ‘seriously?’ look and he just winks back at you. So does the bartender when he hands you your glass.

You take your drinks and Bucky stares a couple out of their seats in a booth in the corner of the bar. You have the view of the whole place from where you are.

“There.” Bucky says, eyeing a man who’s just walked in, sitting himself at the bar. “That’s our guy.”

“You’ve located him?” Fury asks through the comms.

“Apparently so. But that is not who I was expecting.” His flamboyant style consists of a deep burgundy/pink suit, with, no doubt real, rhinestone detailing along his collar and lapels. His black suede boots have at least a two inch heel to them. His cheekbones shimmer under the dim lighting with highlight and his red eyeliner perfectly compliments his devilish looks. As well as that, you notice the way he crosses one leg over the other and delicately stirs his drink while eyeing up the bartender.

“Well, I never.” You say, leaning back into your seat and folding your arms.

“Ok, go and order me another drink and flirt with him. Our best option is for you to seduce him so we can get him alone.” You laugh a little too loudly and have to cover your mouth at his suggestion. He looks extremely confused at your outburst. “What?”

“I think you mean you need to seduce him.” You shortly reply.

“Excuse me?” He questions, sitting more upright to face you.

“Are you kidding me? Even a blind person could see that he’s oh, so clearly, gay, Barnes.” You're smiling excessively and his mouth has dropped. You smirk and prop his jaw back up so his mouth is shut. “What are you waiting for? Go get him, tiger.”

“Oh, I don’t think so, Y/L/N. I see what you’re doing. You’re trying to humiliate me, hit on this guy for your amusement. It’s not going to work. Now just go so we can get this mission over with.” You sigh at his ignorance, although that would be a good prank. Maybe another time.

“No, Buck, I’m not doing anything. Look at the guy. He’s one Madonna song away from voguing across the floor.” Your state.

“Criminals can be over the top, you know? Just remember Zemo and his purple pimp coat.” He quips.

“Ok. What about the fact that he’s practically drooling over the bartender?” Your question is aimed rhetorically. Bucky is clearly struggling for an answer and the two of you become stuck in an intense staring contest. Neither planning on breaking first.

“Status report, guys? How’re we lookin’?” Fury asks.

“Bucky can’t accept the fact that our guy is clearly gay as all hell and is trying to get me to seduce him.” You reply, still not breaking eye contact.

“Wait, so let me get this straight. You two have gone to a bar, got yourselves a drink, sat yo’ asses down and have been arguing over whether the incredibly dangerous criminal we’re trying to capture is into fuckin’ men or women? Are you fucking kidding me?” Suddenly, Fury’s words send yours and Bucky’s eyes back to your target. “Get your heads together, agents, and will one of you, for the love of God, go and flirt with the enemy.” Fury cuts off and you’re left in silence. Bucky leans back in his seat and you raise a brow at him.

“Go. You heard the guy. Now, go ‘n’ flirt with the enemy.” He smirks.

“Fine. I’ll go over. I’m going to have so much fun proving you wrong. My gaydar is never off.” You hold your glass up to Bucky as he scoffs, and saunter over to your target, who you know as Mr. Argot Boughley.

“Hey, honey. Saw you from the other side of the bar. Thought you looked lonely.” You wink at him and take a sip from your glass.

“Oh, I’m sorry babe, I’m not-”

“Oh, no, I know.” You cut the man off, chuckling. “I can tell a man’s man from a mile off. My friend, he’s shy, you see. But sweet as sugar once you get past the murderous tendency, am I right?” You point your glass towards Bucky, to which Argot’s eyes follow. You see him looking confused in his shadowy confinement of the corner booth. “Cute, right?”

“Mmm, as a puppy. I bet he looks good with blood on his hands.” He comments, side eyeing you with a smirk.

“Like you wouldn’t believe.” You play along. Whatever gets him captured and proves Bucky wrong. “He likes a confident guy. I’ll send him your way, shall I? You two look hot together, I can already tell.”

“Tell him I’ll have a drink, and maybe something more, waiting for him.” He winks, biting his lip as he drinks Bucky’s form with his eyes. You walk smugly over to Bucky and sit yourself back in the booth. He looks concerned.

“Well? Did he fall for you or not? Should get back over there so you can get him alone.” Bucky says, to which you just giggle.

“Oh, baby boy. Sweet, naive, baby Bucky. That man over there is as straight as a roundabout. I’m not doing anything for him, but I told him I’d send you over. And he’s got a drink waiting for you.” Bucky’s eyes widen at your words, and you relish in his confusion. He has no words coming out of his open mouth.

“He’s really gay, huh?” Bucky weakly accepts his defeat and you grin in response as he makes eye contact with Argot, who holds up the drink he’s ordered.

“Time to shine, Barnes. Get your gay on. And, whatever you do, don’t fuck it up.”

He takes a breath and, shaking his head at you, stands himself up and heads over to Argot. You sit back and let the scene in front of you unfold.

Argot begins by caressing Bucky’s thigh and continuously leaning closer to him. To begin with, you’re chuckling to yourself, thinking of the things you’ll be able to tell the team when you get back, but Bucky seems surprisingly believable when he also leans closer to Argot. Bucky’s hand roams Argot’s thigh and torso, as he grins and charms the pants off of Argot. You find yourself frowning at the two of them, unsure of the twang of jealousy that creeps through you. Their faces grow closer and closer and, before you know it, they share a short, but sweet kiss.

Props to Bucky for the commitment, though you now find yourself wanting another drink. A strong one.

You can’t help the way your jaw drops when Argot begins leading Bucky away from the bar and through a doorway that you assumed led to the bathroom. Clearing your throat and trying to look as discrete and nonchalant as possible, you follow shortly after. It’s acting. Bucky’s acting. So, why did your jealousy feel so real?

When you turn the corner, you’re met with a corridor littered with doors, each to a different room. They must be for everyone’s criminal meetings. Or, whatever. You roll your eyes at your internal monologue and talk into your comm.

“Buck, if you can answer me, which room are you in?” No response.

You start heading slowly down the corridor, hand lightly atop the blade tucked neatly beneath your dress. Your head is lowered, trying to focus on and make out the sounds coming from each room. And there were a lot. Yelling, negotiating, probably murdering, moaning, the lot, and then there it is. A deep thud. And a muffled ‘goddamnit’ from Bucky.

“Bingo.” You say, staring at room 22. You groan when you find that the door is locked. You’re pressed up against it to see if you can hear anything else going on, when it’s unlocked and you go stumbling into Bucky.

“Steady.” He chuckles as you straighten yourself up. He shuts the door and locks it again. “Careful, I think you’re starting to fall for me.” He smirks, hands proudly on his hips. Your throat is dry but you manage a dirty look his way.

“What did you do to him?” You ask when you turn your focus to Argot. He’s out like a light.

“A simple dose of my fist in his face. Trust me, he’ll be out for hours.” He gets to work tying Argot’s hands behind his back, ready to get him out of here and most likely shut the rest of the club down.

“Huh, good work I guess.”

“I was going to keep him around for a bit longer to see if I could get some information out of him first but, uh. He, uh… He tried to…” Bucky’s stuttering like crazy and your grinning, arms crossed, head tilted, ready for him to admit his wrong. “He tried to kiss me. Again. And more. I don’t know, it was a reflex. But, whatever, you, uh, you were right.” He mumbles the last part and turns away sheepishly.

“I’m so sorry, Barnes, I missed that last part. I was what?” You move closer to him and wait for him to say it to your face.

“You were right about Argot.” He mumbles again.

“Nope, sorry. Didn’t catch that.” Suddenly his eyes grow wide and you’re slammed against the wall. His body is firmly pressed against yours, faces mere inches apart and breathing heavily. Your heart rate has most certainly doubled.

“I said, princess, that you. Were. Right.” His eyes bore into your soul and you honestly can’t tell any of your emotions apart anymore.

“That’s all I wanted to hear.” You squeak.

“But don’t get me wrong. You may have been right about Argot,” Oh no, his cocky voice is out. “but don’t think I didn’t notice the way your fist clenched around your glass when he touched me, or how you couldn’t bear the sight of him leaning in towards me, even more so when he kissed me. Bet you wished it was your hands, your lips, on me, huh?”

You’re speechless. He’s right. How can he be right? You take in a sharp breath and dare yourself to look into his piercing eyes.

“In your dreams, Barnes.” You just about make a sound. A very unconvincing one. So much so, Bucky chuckles at your weak excuse for a response. He brings his hand to caress your cheek.

“Babygirl, you can deny this all you want, but I sure as hell was picturing your lips when he kissed me. Darlin’ it’s the only way I could do it. Be honest, you’ve never thought about it? About this, about us? Tell me you haven’t, and I’ll back away right now.” He lowers himself to release his deep voice into your ear. “Right now.”

You’ve never wanted a man so bad. And you hate yourself for it.

You turn yourself to look at him, lust blanketing over both of you like a storm. A surge of emotions and desire, now taking over. “I hate you. Come here.” You grab his face and pull him to your lips. The kiss is deep, passionate, messy, and long overdue.

Finally, the pent up tension that you’d each been denying is being released. And it couldn’t be hotter. Your hands roam each other like it’s life or death, just wanting to feel each other. Everywhere. Your lips don’t stop. Then he starts kissing, nipping and licking your neck, forcing moans from you. You pull his hips into you and his hard on presses up into you. You both groan and look into each other's eyes. He begins grinding against you and you resume the kiss, now peppered with moans in between. You tug on his hair and he releases an almost feral sound. You smirk up at him. He does the same in return as he slips his hand beneath your dress and lets his hands roam over your soaked panties.

“All this for me?” He whispers, nipping at your ear. The sensation of him rubbing the thin fabric over your clit has you arching and moaning against him. “Doll, I don’t know how I’ve gone this long without fucking you. I’ve thought about it, ya know? By myself. In bed, in the shower. But I knew my hand would never feel as good as you would wrapped around me. It’ll never be as good as having my cock inside that pretty pussy of yours. Isn’t that right, baby?”

You’re a mess. From his words, from his actions. This man is going to ruin you. And you’re going to let him.

“Yes.” You gasp. “Bucky, fuck, thought about you too. Touched myself thinking ‘bout you. But this is so much better.” You palm his erection over his trousers and he groans deeply into your neck.

“Fuck, baby.” He breathes.

“By the way, I’m still gonna tell everyone about how I was right about Argot.”

“I swear, I’m-”

“Agents? It’s been a while. What the hell is going on over there and please, for the sake of my sanity, tell me that motherfucker is caught now.” Nick’s voice yells at both of you, clearly unaware of anything. Your hand flies to cover your mouth. You can’t help the chuckle that escapes your lips, and Bucky does the same. He brings his hand to his ear.

“Everything’s fine. We’ve got the guy. He’s down and ready to be brought back. You can send the other agents in to shut this place down.” Bucky replies. Cool, calm and collected. Like nothing else was going on.

“Finally. What in the hell took you so long?” Fury bites back.

“Uh, yeah, sorry about that. Things got a little… harder than we expected.” You roll your hips against Bucky and he clenches his jaw not to make a sound.

“Fine. Well, at least it’s done. Good work. You can head back to the compound now.”

You’re left in a silence, eyes devouring each other. Hungry for each other

Bucky leans back down to you, a growling undertone to his words “Guess we’ve gotta finish what we started back at the compound. I can’t wait to be inside you, doll.”

“Excuse me?” Fury’s voice is back and both your eyes widen.

“Shit.”

#bucky #Bucky barnes #Bucky Barnes fic #Bucky Barnes angst #Bucky Barnes smut #marvel #marvel fic #winter soldier #angellbarnes 30 day writing challenge #day 2

246 notes · View notes

oh-saints · 1 year

Note

PLEASEE PLease PLEASE more ruben fics i need more so im just gonna leave a request where — ruben and a shy reader?? like she doesnt really opens up to anyone unless they're close🙏

what the hell, anon??? do we share the same brain bcs i literally just thought of it when my bf was watching harold and kumar (i know, incomprehensive taste) beside me and there's an elevator scene that inspires me to go about my favourite this trope!!!

open

you really shouldn't judge the book by its cover, rúben learnt from her, and should instead try to open the first page. for you never know what the next page might bring.

rúben dias x neighbor!reader

word count: 2.9k

tw: speech impairment

note: hi, i'm back! beside the harold & kumar's elevator scene, this is also mildly inspired by blackpink's hard to love and katy perry's unconditional teheee but this time, i happen to write during work so ofc this is not beta-read.

today had been one hell of a day for rúben dias. nothing worked in his favour; his SUV broke down before he departed for training, resulting him arriving late and therefore scolded by pep. his team lost in the mini match, he had to stay late for the rehab because his physio-in-charge had a stomach bug.

he sighed, and anyone within distance would’ve recognised the heavy weight on the breath he let out.

he just wanted to lay down as soon as possible, to be honest. he didn’t even think of dining anymore, and that was saying something because he was known—and he stood by his principle—for being a straight-A athlete. he lives and breathes football and he intends to stick by his commitment as long as life allows him to.

just before the elevator doors closed, a hand dived in between the doors’ gap. precise movement, as fast as a ninja cut, but halting his final destination, nonetheless. why couldn’t whoever-it-was catch the next train?

but as the door opened once more, a woman walked in, heads down. ah, there she is, rúben only realised the current time had reached 7 p.m. because this particular, intriguing woman would always come up at this hour without a miss. and she’d always have her head down, not glancing anyone else in the elevator, let alone the usual neighbour greetings.

he wasn’t supposed to notice her; she looked like she’d rather blend herself to the wall. but he did. her paleness contrasted the bright modern layout of the posh apartment’s elevator, along with the lives the capsule brought up and down.

the footballer pressed for her floor before she could reach the button, as usual.

she’d look up to him in wonder—with her set of the clearest eyes rúben had ever seen yet he never knew what lied beneath the surface, and only the depths of the mediterranian sea reminded him of it—as he did so, as usual.

“12, right?”

she gave a tight smile that rúben somehow understood as her silent thank you and a nod, before going as far away as sparing the 3-feet distance between them. as usual.

sometimes he wondered why she cut off their interaction as cold as the iceberg ended the lives onboard on titanic. was she nervous? was it that hard for her to answer him? was he that hard to approach?

was she a criminal of some sort that was busy hiding in order for the police to not catch her?

he’d watched in one of those real-life cold-cases documentaries he loves to use as a lullaby that coldness, aloofness, detachment or anything in line could be an indicator. whether they felt guilty after committing their crime, whether they wanted to hide away their worldly sins, whether they’re pure psychotic that they’d do a random killing spree one night for fun.

rúben badly wanted to convince himself that she wasn’t of his last depiction but he remembered what happened to ted bundy’s victim—may they rest in peace. he’d have to search for a good opportunity after calling a private investigator or something.

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

another evening, another elevator ride with the same neighbour of his.

another day of him pressing for her floor, another day of her giving him a curt nod before backing herself up against the corner.

it was supposed to be another day for them, and rúben was more than ready to hit the sack. but life truly had its way for a plot twist even a blockbuster movie didn’t see coming.

being a footballer that had to stay alert of possibly everything, rúben opened his eyes as he heard a heavy intake of breath from somewhere on his right. a sound he never heard of, a sound he was most certainly had to have a double take to make sure his hearing wasn’t damaged.

he watched as she opened her mouth for a second before closing them again, certainly wanting to say something. then she took a moment of silent, possibly to rearrange what she was about to say. once she was done—or what he though was done, anyway—her mouth started to form a small O before slamming shut after five seconds. her head was shaking following another cancelled thought, and rúben swore he could practically feel the frustration she was exuding.

it reminded him of his old self, before the whole PR team back in benefica took over the wheel and taught him what and how to say things. so instead of being annoyed at her, rúben gave her space and time until she was ready. thank god he was towering the woman, who wasn’t small in general but still small compared to him, so she couldn’t see his repressed smile because weirdly enough, he found her endearing instead of infuriating like anyone else he was frustrated with.

“c-c-c-can you help me w-w-w-with something?”

the words slurred out of her voice box before her eyes could find the man that was all familiar to her but a stranger altogether. when she realised he’d been staring at her—at her disorganised self, that was pretty obvious—her head snapped back lightly in mild surprise. who wasn’t, when a beautiful man of that calibre had been staring at you?

but it actually wasn’t why rúben couldn’t keep his eyes off her. stunned would also be an understatement to describe what was happening underneath his skin.

yes, he was astounded by the fact that the neighbour that had been spiking his interest was finally talking to him. no more reserved, small smile she used to throw at him every other chance they’d been interacting. and she was finally looking up at him instead of darting her attention elsewhere whenever they shared the small confinement of an elevator.

but he was more surprised at the fact that he recognised she wasn’t simply nervous around him. he’d been around too many people to be able to spot on nerves shooting up one’s legs. what he sensed around her was a completely different, entirely new altogether.

and above all, the question that remained hanging on top of his head was; why now?

why did it take her a long while to finally muster up all the courage to spare him a glance, moreover to strike up a conversation first?

rúben couldn’t help his initial reaction of raising his brows, as if he was sceptical to the reality he was undergoing, instead of replying back. his response was met with her flashing what he recognised as regret before she looked away and shut her mouth again. and he knew he fucked up; she’d thought he was challenging her, speak one more time and you’re dead.

it wasn’t what he intended to come of as. he was simply tired of constantly fighting for his place at training, and the shock in his system hadn’t washed off since she’d dared herself to indulge him in the luxury of a conversation.

“yes, i’d like to help,” rúben spoke up before any misunderstanding took place between them, eyes were still zeroed on the woman. only then he took on her overall appearance, for they’d never been this close, and by god was she beautiful. “what do you need my help for?”

the woman looked up again to him, hopeful this time and no longer distressed, before biting her lips in a little bit of hesitance. not because of nervousness, he realised, but it was simply because she didn’t know where to start again.

and again, rúben waited for her patiently. hell, he’d waited on her far too long—even for something as simple as this—so he could certainly wait for some more.

he watched her as she opened and closed her mouth several times again—this time rúben was positive she was trying to rearrange whatever it was she wanted to say to him—before casting another glance up to him. and this time, nervousness was palpable in her face. weariness, too, and rúben couldn’t stop himself from smiling at the sight.

(although he tried to hypnosis himself that he smiled to ease off her jitters.)

this seemed to relax the tensed shoulders of hers. “i-i-i-i need help t-t-t-to change my lamp.”

bingo.

every of his remaining suspicion was now struck down, only leaving him with the answers to all of his silent question.

he’d guess on she wasn’t mute. if she was, she’d have to suffer from deafness, too, or at least hearing impairment, and she wouldn’t be able to interact with people without her hearing aid. of which, was non-existent as far as rúben’s peripheral vision might go.

he’d guess on she was a selective mute, this much was also spot on. what his shot strayed on was how she chose to be mum not because she’d killed someone, but because she was unable to.

all the sudden, rúben got reminded of one particular kid he’d gotten fortunate enough to meet during city’s annual christmas hospital visit. it was like yesterday when the kid said thank you endlessly that day before the day ended, for listening attentively without rushing the kid to speak clearly and fluently. at first rúben was surprised how that was enough of a reason for the abundance of gratitude thrown at him, but later he realised that everyone else had reached their boiling point while waiting for the kid to finish his broken sentences.

only then did he realise his mysterious neighbour was only doing whatever best under her limited condition to survive without hindering anyone else’s life.

she must’ve practiced silence for such a long time now, and for reasons such as survival mode in this cruel world where her condition is deemed a shame. where people would rather not hear her kind to speak because they were slow at it, and would rather belittle something she surely didn’t ask for when she was born.

how wrong of him to assume she was a criminal on a runaway.

“sure, have you bought the light bulb already?”

she nodded, lips still pursed tightly, before rolling her eyeballs up towards the ceiling. upstairs, he’d gathered.

“excellent,” this time, admiration and respect was the reason behind his enormous smile. “lead the way.”

he really should stop watching too many crime documentaries on netflix.

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

as soon as she was done showing her neighbour his temporary place of work, she dashed for the fridge. she was perched, for lack of words, because it’d been a long while since the last time she had to wreck her brain for a simple, humane interaction.

ironic because it was imprinted in every human’s brain that they are a social figure, thus needing to interact with other people. ironic because her line of work required her to interact with people on a daily basis, even though she was hidden behind the magic screen of a computer.

she hadn’t realised up until now how much grateful she was to the silver screen, for she didn’t have to disclose the one thing she detested about herself. for it hid her from the harsh reality she was bound to have due to her condition. for it saved her from the judgemental looks people would throw at her.

she was sure she was content with her life, bar the defect in her DNA, so why did she decide, of all day today, that she needed his help for such a simple task?

right, because she didn’t have a ladder and forgot to buy one on her way back home.

but she could’ve gone back outside to the store on the corner of the street instead of asking the one neighbour she had always seen after a long day of working. she could’ve asked anyone else but him. the security guard, the firefighter—anyone else that was in the line of work to help people, not him.

especially not him, when it meant she would bare herself open to someone she barely knew outside the fact that he was tall and smelled so damn fresh like he just washed himself after a long day of swimming in the sea water. especially not him, when it meant her old disease of stuttering would come back haunting her every time she was nervous.

and god, was she nervous. how could she not when he looked like the closest thing to adonis if such figure descended mount olympus?

but still, despite all, why did she still choose to uncover the grounds she was content on burying herself with?

was it his eyes? was it because she grew accustomed to his silent presence in the elevator? was it because she recognised no hint of judgement exuding from him when she let out the secret she least loved to reveal?

“it’s done,” the man was seriously done with work, by the way he was back donning his brick red coats. a lovely colour to his skin, she realised. another point plus, she also noted, for a man to know well how to dress. “is there anything else you need help with?”

her apartment was fairly large, especially when she only lived here on her own, but with him in the room, it felt small all the sudden. but not the suffocating kind of small, just that the space turned to be full with his presence. but instead of feeling intimidated, she felt welcomed.

weird because this was her house, her abode, her home. yet she was the one who felt welcomed instead of the other way around.

“um—n-n-no. i’m sorry again if i disturb your time, being busy and all,” it surprised her that it only took a grand total of 30 minutes of interaction for her—physically and mentally, she noted—to feel ease around him, which was apparent by the lack of stutters and was now replaced by the signature ummm everyone likes to have at the beginning of her sentences. “but i was hoping if i—um—can repay you after doing me a favour?”

“you really don’t need—”

the man shook his head as he shifted his weight to his other leg. the movement felt so natural, like he belonged here, and it dizzied her head because this was starting to feel unrealistic. there was no way she could warm up so easily to a good-looking guy that dressed well and smelled excellent and acted like those boyfriends you only see on novel books.

and for the love of god, did she love the smell lingering in the air from his perfume. it was intoxicating, as if he himself in flesh and blood didn’t stir headaches for anyone with vagina walking down the street. yet she craved for more, making her not wanting him to leave the perimeter of her house. like he’d permeated the space and marked it no longer hers.

funny how the concept of being close had a different meaning now to her, literally and figuratively. she really shouldn’t have opened the door to her home.

it honestly caught her off guard when he showed his initial reaction. she’d mastered the art of being rejected by people who i) think she’s a freak, ii) think she’s useless, iii) think she’s a hassle, iv) think she’s frustrating as she can’t get words straight to the point, and/or v) all of the above. the better part of her condition was also double-edged sword; when people think of her as a charity case, for it was only then when people understood her limitation.

being unfazed with her disability—there, that’s the word—was definitely something rare in her world.

must be the eyes, she convinced herself, because she knew deep down it didn’t take einstein to deduct the real reason behind her unpredictable habit of opening up to this man—whose name she still hadn’t figured out—was her very last justification.

after days of observation, she somehow managed to conclude he wasn’t the type to blabber his mouth somewhere else about the embarrassing neighbour that sounded ridiculous whenever she spoke. he was the type to keep everything to himself, unless he was allowed to or unless the government made him to. for that alone, it was enough of a reason for her to come out of the shell she’d been hiding under, no matter how insane it sounded because they didn’t know each other’s name.

for she knew she could be herself and he wouldn’t mind at all.

“p-p-please,” another breather because goddamn, this is a lot to take in. “i—um—i insist.”

“okay, if you say so,” his head tipped lightly at her admission, lips slowly tugging a smirk out of its hiding place. satisfaction plastered on his face and she swore she could’ve been melting on the floor if she wasn’t holding the edge of the kitchen counter. and still, strangely enough, she wouldn’t mind him seeing her turning into a puddle. “i’m allowed to take you out for a dinner then.”

of all things he could say to reply her goodwill request, a dinner wasn’t in the list of her prediction.

“w-w-why?”

it didn’t take a genius to know it was the multi-million loaded question; why me?

and this was precisely why rúben asked her out in the first place because in rúben’s defence, why not?

why not her? was there anything wrong with her?

did she believe something’s wrong with her when he found her perfectly interesting?

“because i like you and i’d like to know you better,” her eyes shot up so fast at his admission, indescribable disbelief glazed over the set of orbs rúben for sure would like to stare all night long if he had the chance. “if you’ll let me, that is, of course.”

who was she to deny when he asked to come in to her home so nicely like that?

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chaoticnandovibes · 1 year

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@no00000000 's MASTERPIECE. Very good food FINE DINING I dare say. Lance and his trashy boyfriend is such a great concept!!! So I wrote a little fic drabble oneshot thingy while listening to Uptown Girl on repeat as a declaration of my love and ask for your spare hand in marriage ♥️

304 words. pure strollonso. enjoy :)

Fernando's warmth spreads through him like heat through cold water, blooming across his body and gently wrapping around his heart. The normally loud revs of the old motorcycle's engine have fallen unnaturally quiet, as if it understood without a single word the beautiful fragility of the scene and knew not to disturb it.

He smells of car fuel, exhaust fumes, cigarette smoke, burnt rubber and everything you'd think a hard-working mechanic would smell like. Everything his family would be utterly repulsed at and despised, as if the mere mention of the working-class stained the platinum-lined reputation they upheld with their names. Everything Lance has found safety and comfort in these last few days.

They're outside and in full view of anyone who could recognise them but, in all honesty, Lance couldn't care less and neither could Fernando. But still, some part of him hopes the night's darkness hides them well enough, but the street lamps feel like bright spotlights beaming down upon them as if what they're doing is something criminal, being highlighted for the entire world to see and condemn.

Lance couldn't care less though.

Fernando is everything Lance has been told to avoid all his life, so why does this all feel so right?– Fernando's hand tightly around him, holding him forever closer as impossible as that may seem. Lance buries his face further in the crook of his neck and allows himself to lose touch with the world around him for a few blissful moments, everything in his world becoming Fernando, everything else a meaningless blur of background noise and strange shapes.

He wishes he could stay like this forever, but it's impossible. So he'll settle for what he can get and savour all these little moments they share together.

'Settle for what he can get'?

His family would be horrified.

#strollonso #alonstroll #f1 fanfic #please see the knuckle tattoos they are wonderful

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finniestoncrane · 1 year

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Hi!! I love your dano riddler fics so much

I used to write fic myself but am long since out of the game lol but I still have ideas and I kind of wish they got used, so I thought I could send you some ? Not even as requests as such, just ideas to imagine Eddie with hehe

One I had today was (dark fic warning!) reader being kidnapped by Eddie and streamed nc ensuing, but unbeknownst to Eddie the reader has been lowkey infatuated with him for a while and recognises his smell and shouts out his name on stream, prompting him to not know whether to immediate stop streaming or act like he has no idea who Edward nashton is

Just wanted to share w a fellow Eddie stan !!

Crush

Dano!Riddler x GN!Reader, word count: 600 oh shit yeah please send your plot bunnies my way lmao i would love to see if i can make them happen and this was so much fun to write!! 🐀💚 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: restraints, kidnapping, threats

The last thing you remember, you had been trying to catch up to Edward Nashton, your office crush, in the hopes of walking him home. You’d walked down the alley you were sure he had turned down, and then something was over your face. You were sure you hit the ground… maybe… but you couldn’t be certain.

And now, you were tied up, wrists, ankles and waist duct taped to the arms of the chair you were sat on. In front of you, the figure clad in dark green, mask over his face, spoke to the camera of his computer.

“…so this one was just for fun, guys! Just something to keep me sharp while we wait for the next step in our plan.”

You recognised the modulated voice, your eyes adjusting to the light. The Riddler. Criminal. Potential vigilante. Murderer. He must have got you in the alley. But where was Eddie? As your mind began to panic, thinking of all the terrible things he might have done to Eddie, the Riddler stepped over to you, holding the camera to your face, leaning in to you to offer a threat, a teasing comment. You weren’t really listening, you were distracted. Over the scent of the mask, the sweat, you could make out the cologne, extremely familiar. Glancing up to make eye contact with him, you noticed the frames, the dull green pupils behind them.

He turned from you, placing the laptop back down on the desk. As he continued with his speech, you put everything together.

“Edward. Edward Nashton.”

Turning quick enough to give himself whiplash, the Riddler stared you down.

“Oh, she speaks! I have no idea who that is, so maybe be quiet.”

Turning from you once again, he stammered some excuse to the people watching.

“Eddie! Edward Nashton.”

“Quit barking over there! I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You smell like him.”

“What a strange thing to yelp about.”

He laughed, an attempt at scoffing, but his nerves were seeping through.

“You’re Edward Nashton, right?”

“I don’t know who that is! STOP! Bad dog!”

You kicked at the backpack, stretching to reach it. It tipped over, some duct tape, three notepads, and a work pass on a lanyard spilled out. You managed to shift the pass with your toes, able to make out Edward’s face, your place of work, the badge formatted the same as your own one still around your neck.

“Oh yeah? Then how come his name badge is right here on the floor.”

“Ok, you want the truth little puppy?”

The Riddler got up from his chair, pushing it to the side, crouching in front of you, the camera displaying all at the angle is recorded.

“I killed Edward Nashton. You’re smelling a dead man’s scent. You rifled through a dead man’s things.”

Your heart sank, nervously considering that he was telling the truth.

“No…”

“Yes! And that was supposed to be a nice surprise to my viewers, but you’ve spoiled it now. Sorry guys! I’ll end the stream now, I’ll be back tomorrow with a better gift for you all.”

He turned off the stream, closing the lid of the laptop, crouching in front of you again.

“You’re lying. You are Eddie.”

Pulling his mask off, he smiled, revealing his face. The sweet face you had had a crush on for months now.

“Technically, it’s a half lie. Because in truth, I did kill Edward Nashton. I’m the Riddler now.”

#finnie writes #riddler smut #fanfic #the riddler fanfic #riddler fanfic #riddler x reader #riddler x you #ridler scenario #dano riddler #dano!riddler #edward nashton #the riddler fanfiction #the riddler #paul dano #danonation #cw kidnapping #cw violence

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wind-becomes-lightning · 1 year

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The future is ours to own.

Welcome to Obito week Day 1 :) This little fic today is mostly just me being whiny about this hc that I hate which is so prominent about Gai and Obito not getting along. I don't like it I don't want it. So here is my take on their post war relationship.

Obito lives Au

Might Gai & Uchiha Obito

Rated G

2777 words

Ao3 link [x]

for @obito-week: childhood, nostalgia & anniversary.

Gai visits Obito in prison

He didn’t recognise the footsteps approaching the cell. Heavy, with purpose, but lopsided, as if only one leg was working correctly. Obito couldn’t see because a seal had been placed on his eyes and he could not use his hands to feel because they had been bound, but he often understood who was approaching by the way the floor moved.

Kakashi, for example, slouched a little, so he dragged his feet. Obito would know Kakashi as soon as he entered the cellar in which his cell was located. He talked very little until he made it to where Obito was.

The guards had heavy armour and even heavier to carry with their special shuriken bags. Only in Hozuki were people allowed to wear these chakra suppression materials that were not only very effective, but also forbidden elsewhere.

Even in that one case, when Sasuke had visited him, his steps had been smaller, more muted, as if he was trying not to gain too much attention.

So the person that was coming now was neither of them for one, and hadn’t visited Obito before for another. It made him feel tense and worried. Kakashi had told him that the war anniversary was around the corner, which surprised Obito. In this darkness that he was kept in now every day seemed the same and so he had thought it was much longer since then. That someone new was coming now meant clearly that it was someone who was looking for some revenge.

And it wasn’t like Obito minded people who wanted revenge against him, he just didn’t want to cause Kakashi and Naruto, who had so extraordinarily vouched for him, any more trouble by dying.

Though it seemed unlikely that the approaching stranger was up for revenge. He seemed rather cheerful, chatting with guards now and then in a low voice, though Obito could not hear what he talked about with them. That was until the person reached the cell door and had it opened for him. “I am happy to see so much is being done for the inmates in this place,” the voice said excitedly. “I think reintegration is the right step forward for criminals. Help them understand their youth again.”

The guard laughed quietly as if he was a little embarrassed by the words spoken, then the door squeaked and swung open and the visitor stepped inside.

Gai.

Obito could barely believe it. Gai had not spoken a word to him since they had been very young, not even in the war had he looked at him. Gai who had been so much of what Obito wished he had been, a fighter, naturally talented, a person that could make friends easily and retain them. Obito’s whole body tensed up and he pushed himself against the wall behind him. Gai, who’s student Obito had killed during the war in a needless display of hatred and violence.

“Hello Obito,” Gai said in his usual cheerful voice. “My rival's rival.”

Obito pushed himself flat against the back wall. “Hello Gai. I didn’t expect you to visit.”

All these months Obito had waited for someone who had been close to the Hyuuga boy to come and scream at him in frustration. His teammates, his uncle or his cousins- but nobody had come until now. There was only him sitting in his own regrets for weeks on end, thinking of the boy that had been killed so young. What he had wanted was to create a better world for everybody, especially children plagued by war, and in the end he had just become what he always hated.

“Ha, yes, I thought it was time to see you.” Gai walked forward and Obito guessed that he stopped about an arms length away from where he was. “Kakashi allowed me. I know he comes here all the time.”

Obito grumbled: “Too often.”

Kakashi was determined to show Obito that nothing in their relationship had changed. That Kakashi, despite all, still admired Obito as the hero he saw him to be. Obito of course knew that was a farce and that he wasn’t like that anymore, that that version of him had died a long time ago, still Kakashi was stubborn.

Gai laughed, the sound echoed off the walls and filled the room. “You are both so much older now but you still behave like you did around each other when you were teenagers. Feels almost nostalgic. I remember easily locating your team in the Chuunin exams because you couldn’t stop arguing with each other.”

“I remember you kicked me so hard in the face that I needed to get treated for a concussion,” Obito replied and laughed now too. Back then Obito’s pride had gotten beat up so thoroughly that he had exclusively trained taijutsu for the next three months, completely neglecting his Ninjutsu training, which Kakashi had not been too tired to point out.

“Right, you said you would knock me out in five minutes,” Gai remembered. “I took that as a challenge.”

Obito grinned. “Clearly, I was full of shit.”

“No,” Gai said, “you were just young. Youthful passion does that to a person.”

In a way Obito had always admired Gai for his unwavering optimism. He had also hated it to equal measure. In the years that Obito had spent watching Kakashi he had often thought that the only reason Kakashi was still holding on was Gai’s unrelenting optimism. While the wood boy Tenzo was also a big part of what kept Kakashi going, Gai definitely had the biggest hand in it. And as much as it ashamed him now, Obito had really wanted Kakashi to throw in the towel. Give up on the world, just like Obito had.

He had tried the same strategy with Naruto. Had wanted to make him feel despair and pain so he would give up on the world. But Naruto was stronger than that. Even when his mentor died, he carried on. Obito’s internal envy had burned hot and angry. Why wasn’t this boy as desperate as he was? Why wouldn’t he give up on the world like he did? Maybe somewhere he had wanted to excuse himself from his deeds, show that everyone would fall as deeply as he had fallen. So Obito had killed one of Naruto’s friends right in front of him just to see how he would react.

But Naruto still didn’t fall into despair. Neither did Gai when he saw his student die. They had both carried on with hope in their hearts. It was a quality that Obito wished he still had, but somewhere along the way the optimistic and driven version of him had died and this more angry, more cynical version had taken its place. Buried deep under stone.

“I…” Obito started but Gai cut him off immediately. “He was really a good kid, you know? Neji.”

Ah, so he really did come to talk about that. “I can believe that,” Obito murmured.

“He was born into the side branch, a nasty business thing the Hyuuga do where one child is deemed less important than the other. And though he had a good childhood in general he hardened his heart when his father died so as to not be hurt again.” Gai sighed. Obito of course knew that the Hyuuga clan separated their members in main branch and side branch and how it affected those family members. Each of the major clans had their issues somewhere. They couldn’t stay in power for so many decades if they weren’t ruling with an iron fist.

“Even when he entered my team, he did not trust me or his teammates.” Gai tapped with his finger on the cold stone ground. “I think he thought he needed to do it all alone. Become strong, reform his family, avenge his father, bear the burden of being marked for life. He warmed up to the others though eventually and listened to me, but I think it was only Naruto that taught him to be different.

Obito smiled: “Naruto tends to have that quality.”

“Once Neji realised that the future wasn’t set, that he could do as he pleased, he quickly became the most reliable shinobi in Konoha. Not only for missions, not only for our team, but also for his family. I think he really cherished the friendships he had made and the new sibling-like bond he had with his cousins. You could basically feel the real effort that had been made to improve the clan. I used to talk to Kurenai all the time about how much better both our Hyuuga students were doing since they were getting along,” Gai continued.

The pit of despair that Obito always felt when Hyuuga Neji was mentioned opened again in Obito’s stomach. “That is very good,” he said weakly.

Gai moved a little as if he was shifting his weight beneath him. “There were many times I told him that despite what their old traditions say, it was not his responsibility to die for a main branch member. Protecting them, yes. Working with them, yes. Helping them, absolutely. But dying for them? It was not what he was forced to do. It was his choice.”

He paused for a moment and Obito could feel his body tensing up. “And then he did. He made the choice. He sacrificed himself out of his own free will,” Gai’s words were pressed now as if continuing was causing him physical harm. “I am happy for him. He fulfilled what he believed to be destiny by defying destiny and still….. I wish…” His voice died.

Obito had never heard Gai sad like that, not when they were young and not later when he watched Kakashi. Gai was always cheerful and excited, Gai went on and on about youth and love and passion even so much that others got annoyed. So hearing him suffer like this almost felt unbearable. Obito could feel tears run down his cheeks before he really realised that he was in fact crying.

“I’m sorry..” He said with lips quivering. “I should not have tried to force my own twisted view on others. Neji.. probably was not part of that world that I hated so much, but a victim of it. I was so blinded by my envy and rage that I couldn’t see that there were many children like that. He would have deserved to make his own future, he would have deserved to grow and see the world change, his clan change, around him. He… he had so much left to do and… well.. He was just a kid and I…”

He sniffed, but the tears kept coming. Obito had envisioned this encounter many times before. How he would react if one of Neji’s family members would come and talk to him. Kakashi had asked him why it was this specific death that haunted him so much, when he had killed so many people in his quest for the Tsukuyomi. At first Obito hadn’t been able to explain that either. Maybe it was because he was so young and so hopeful, maybe because the reason he had died had been so unnecessarily evil or maybe it was because Neji, unlike Obito, had seen injustice in the world and then tried to correct it as much as he could, while Obito had just given up on himself.

Obito gasped as suddenly two big arms threw themselves around him. Gai was hugging him close, tears streaming down his face too. “He was a kid, yes,” he said between sobs, “but so were you. Kakashi told me what happened to you, about Madara and the manipulation, about Rin and your desperation. You were just a child. You weren’t meant to bear such a heavy burden on your shoulders.”

“Come…come on…,” Obito winced a little as Gai pressed him even closer. They remained like this for another moment, just two grown men crying over childhoods lost. The scene must have been very odd for onlookers, but none of them cared. It felt strangely relieving to sit here and just cry together.

After a while Obito regained his composure. “You should not forgive me for what I did,” he said and wiped his cheeks beneath the seal. “My circumstances don’t excuse the crimes I committed. At least that is also what the judge that sent me here told me.”

Gai let go of Obito. “I won’t forgive you,” Gai said, now suddenly sounding very serious. “I don’t think I will ever be able to forgive you. But I wanted to express my understanding. Despite the anger I feel towards you at the moment I can’t say I would have been any different if all of what happened to you would have happened to me…”

“Nonsense,” Obito laughed, “You were always stronger than me. You will continue to be stronger than me.”

A hand grabbed Obito’s shoulder and pressed it. “It shows how strong your will is that you are still here with us. You tried to sacrifice yourself for the good of the youth of this world because you once again believed there was a future to sacrifice yourself for. Strength shows in many different ways, Obito, not only in optimism or muscle mass.“ Gai shook Obito a little. “You took Neji’s future from him a year ago and you can never give it back, that much is true, but what you do with the future you have been given, what we do with the future we both have given by surviving, is our own choice.”

Obito lifted his hands and pressed them against Gai’s arms on his shoulders. He could feel his lips shaking again. One of the things he struggled most with was the fact that he had survived this war. It would have been so much easier just to die there, become nothing but a distant memory. He was also convinced that it would have made Kakashi’s life much easier.

He now realised why Gai’s steps had created such odd vibrations when he had walked. During his fight with Madara, when Obito was largely under control of black Zetsu, Gai had also tried to sacrifice himself for the future of the world by opening the Gate of Death. Just like Obito, however, Gai had been saved by Naruto and the power that was gifted to him from the Sage of Six Paths. Still, he lost a leg that had since been replaced by a prosthetic one, at least according to what Kakashi had said.

Now they both lived in a future that they tried to preserve and though their setups were completely different, for good reason, they were oddly similar. Maybe Gai was right.

“I don’t think with all that has happened that we can ever be friends,” Gai continued. “I don’t think I will be able to look at you and not feel pain in my chest…” Obito nodded. “... but I think we should try to get to know each other from the very beginning, like we are just young kids meeting for the first time. Start building an understanding between us with the smallest piece first.”

Obito let his hands fall down again. “You mean for Kakashi’s sake?” Though Kakashi had never talked about it, Obito knew he feared that a future animosity between Obito and Gai could cause him constant heartache.

Gai grabbed Obito’s shoulder a little tighter: “No, for us. To show that we know how to use this time that has been given to us.” He finally let Obito go and then stepped back. The air moved as if Gai was ripping his arms around and his voice was suddenly louder than it had been before. “My name is Might Gai,” he roared, “My dream is still to become a splendid ninja and to use the power of my own youth!”

His hand found Obito’s and shook it. Obito laughed a little. So that was what Gai had meant when he had said that they should get to know each other like kids again. “I’m Uchiha Obito,” Obito said weakly and realised how long it had been since he had introduced himself like that. “My dream used to be to become Hokage, but now I guess Bakashi got that role, well, I guess my new dream will be to support him if I can.”

They shook again. “Nice to meet you,” Gai said.

“Nice to meet you,” Obito replied.

Obito had thought that the anniversary of the war would bring him waves of guilt and regret, but instead it had become the first day of the rest of his life.

#fanfiction things #obito week 2023 #obito week #uchiha obito #might gai

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inkyquince · 2 years

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THE BACKROOM

Landry x F!PC

An expanded fic based off of this one QKS prompt! Commissioned by an anonymous lurker! You can commission me here or on me Kofi

content warning. Prostitute and criminal PC, gangbang, shady dealings, Mind break Landry, cum drunkenness. 3K words

“Nice to see you again so soon.” The smooth voice made Landry cringe, the criminal freezing up for only a moment before turning to face the brothel owner.

His thin t-shirt felt a bit too hot when he met those cat-like eyes, and he quickly yanked down his hood that he had tugged over his face with a futile hope that he wouldn’t be recognised. Of course, he grumpily thought, it had been fruitless, he wasn’t exactly dressed like any other men who would line up for the Friday shows. Others wore sweatpants and tank tops, or a full suit sometimes, ties loosened, and jackets thrown over arms, usually coming straight from work. He had hoped his apparel of jeans with a hoodie would help him blend in, but Briar always seemed to hone in on people who clearly not wanting to be recognised. Probably using that finely tuned humiliation kink to expose those poor sods, exposing them in more ways than one. And right now? Landry was one of those poor sods.

“Hello.” He said wearily, stuffing his hands back into his pockets.

He was hunching his shoulders, why the hell was he hunching his shoulders? This wasn’t school anymore and he especially wasn’t Briar’s lackey anymore.

“Here pretty early aren’t you, Lan?” Briar smoothly replied, plucking a spec of nonexistence dust off his sleeve. “If I remember correctly, you usually have nothing but meetings until nine pm. Hard to catch up with an old friend when you can’t even get through on his phone.”

Landry exhaled steadily. He knows. He knows why I’m here and he’s cutting into my time just to piss me off.

“Actually, I’m hosting one of my meetings here.” He jerked his shoulder at the well-dressed group just coming through the door. “They wanted to see the sights of the town and so I brought them here.”

Take the compliment and piss off. Take the compliment and piss off. Take the compliment and piss-

“Well, aren’t you sweet?” Briar didn’t take the bait, apparent from the sneer on his face. “Go on then and encourage your clients to stick around when you’re finished. The least you could do if you’re going to take up my best worker’s time.”

Fuck you.

Landry didn’t bother any further and turned away from him sharply, heading further into the brothel with his entourage trotting after him with interested coos as they looked around. He paused in the doorway and looked around, feeling sweat already prick against his temples as he scanned. Where was she…?

There.

He already missed the start of the performance thanks to Briar’s chatting but the group surrounding you on stage had only started to rip of your shirts, buttons flying everywhere. Of course, the crowd was cheering, so you definitely went with the bratty schoolgirl routine. One that was a fan favourite. Landry was caught up in watching, he only took notice of his clients again when one yanked at his elbow.

“Let’s get a table then.” The burly man grinned down at him, lips saying he’s finding Landry’s rare unfocused state amusing, but the teeth saying his patience for it is about to run out. “Talk about moving stock and then enjoy the show, the girls- “

“The men too.” The lithe woman added, clearing her throat. Another man nodded just behind her.

“Yeah, yeah.” The burly guy rolled his eyes. “So, lead the way.”

Landry grunted and started making his way through the crowd to some of the tables right at the back, finding an empty one with a dancer moving sluggishly, in between the workers being bent over the wood and fucked. The criminal cleared his throat and held up two £20 notes and jerked his head for her to get off the tabletop. By some miracle, she understood him despite the dark lighting and the crowd pushing in. She shakily gets down and is almost immediately swallowed up by the mob. Landry and his associates take their seats, at ease at the people, either watching the strippers, fucking some of the employees on the ground, or watching you.

The deal brokered could have been the worst one of his life and Landry would have never known. Too busy glancing off to the side, watching you. Those hands, usually pushing over stolen jewels and wallets, now were jerking off two huge cocks, aiming them at your face. You knew what your clients liked, knew how to work a crowd. Maybe that’s why he struggled to break free of you. You knew how to work people, work them like your fans, hollering at the group to fuck you harder. Your crocodile tears did wonderfully, the perfect image of a schoolgirl wandering down the wrong road and now forced to take one, two, three, four cocks and one cunt.

Fuck, your tongue must be good, the way the woman rode your face, head thrown back. Landry shifted in his seat, too aware of his hard cock as he watched the two cocks bully their way into your pussy. Pretending to listen, he just nodded his head at the conversation going on, as the last man was bouncing your ass on his cock, grunting and sweating.

The meeting must have concluded because he had his pen in hand and was scribbling down his signature on a piece of paper, just as the group on stage began to cum, painting your face, your tits, your cunt, your thighs, your ass. Landry quietly cursed the woman for sitting on your face, and not letting him see your own orgasm… If you even got one. The thought had him shiver.

A hand slapping his back brought him out of his trance and he shook his head, as if to clear his head. The criminal glanced at his clients, the woman tucking his signed paper into her blazer before turning to a nearby male dancer, holding her purse at him, and strutting off to a private room. The others leered at the workers making their way through the crowd, back in their element of charming the clientele now that you were off the stage.

“Maybe I should go and see if Miss Gangbang needs an extra hand in her lessons.” The burly man chuckled to his friend, starting to get up from his seat.

Landry felt a flash of something uncommon, something ugly with teeth and gripped the man’s shoulder, pushing him back down in his chair. At the bewildered looks, he simply scowled and made his way through the thinning crowd, most having lost their interest now that your section of the night was done. He passed Briar on his way to your personal changing room, ignoring the smirk.

You jumped slightly as the door opened, spinning around, and holding your towel up to your chest, trying to hide from the sudden intruder. Landry found it cute. Hiding your dignity like you didn’t get split open so easily on stage.

However, the smile you gave him was automatic, and he returned it with a slight lift of his own lips.

“Landry!” You greeted, not lowering your towel. “… We didn’t have a meeting happening now, did we? Did I miss it?”

“No.” He says a bit too quickly. “But I did want to talk… Business.”

You tilted your head and flashed an uneasy smile. Landry wasn’t someone who really reached out about stuff unless it was serious. Or if it was useful to him, like those damned black boxes that somehow always managed to get lost in the ass end of nowhere and almost always endangered your life.

“Sure, go- “

“Not here. Someone could walk in.” And he didn’t want any interruptions.

You blinked and nodded before clearing you throat awkwardly.

“You can go get a room for us… I just need to get changed.”

Landry blinked and flushed, as if he just noticed your state of undress. Which he was more than aware of.

You got dressed back in the outfit you wore on stage, with minimal ripping to your uniform. It would be embarrassing, especially in front of Landry, but you didn’t want to keep him waiting, especially since he was the one to seek you out like this. Not to mention having your sort-of boss wait in a room where people had been fucking in all day.

You were wrong though. Landry admired your uniform. Immensely. In fact, he couldn’t keep his eyes off of the way it skimmed your thighs deliciously. He struggled with speaking first for a change too, so you two just quietly sat together, peeling wallpaper and strange smelling covers for the bed. You finally stopped leaning against the wall and sat down next to him, admiring his throat absentmindedly. He usually wore turtlenecks, so seeing the unblemished expanse of skin, with his Adam’s apple bobbing every time he struggled to speak, was a bit distracting.

Finally, he glanced at you. He had to wonder if you looked this appealing to those people out there in the brothel, hungrily stuffing money into your hand before rutting into you like an animal. He did know one thing for certain, is that Briar did somehow know what was happening in each of the rooms, just so no workers stole money, kept it all for themselves or the clients walked off without paying. It’s why you two had agreed that you would never try to steal something from the clients in the brothel, even if that was where they were most unguarded.

Hard to be guarded when your cock’s out, Landry quietly thought. He’d be focusing on trying to stuff it back into his jeans or seeing exactly which hole he should indulge in.

He really shouldn’t be thinking with his dick right now. Or he should be. He came here for a reason, not just because he suddenly thought a sweaty, humid sex club would be a great place to conduct business. Briar always teased him for not ever wanting to dirty his squeaky-clean shoes with his dirty, cum carpet but Landry couldn’t take it anymore. You were an itch a random couldn’t scratch for him.

“Landry?” You murmured, splintering his rapid train of thought. “… The business?”

“Yeah.” His voice sounded hoarse.

You reached out to shyly take his hand, but he gripped your wrist. Ten rumpled £20 were pressed into your palm. You weren’t stupid, just shocked.

You didn’t move and Landry took that as consent, gripping your chin roughly and leaning into mouth at your bottom lip, teeth and tongue prying your mouth apart greedily. You took a moment to understand, as if you didn’t understand that he had been carrying around this sin, and it only grew every time he looked at you, that he didn’t want to fuck into you until you cried from overstimulation.

Your fingers flitted over his wrist for a moment before settling one on his hip and the other on his crotch, feeling up his throbbing erection. The criminal hissed sharply against your lips and pulled away, just as you started to kiss him back.

“J-Just… Get on your stomach and raise your hips.”

He wouldn’t be able to bear it if after all this time of trying to get up the courage to finally give into his vices, he’d cum in his trousers like a teenager from just some fondling. You gaped at him for a moment before turning away, clambering on your knees to the centre of the bed. Grabbing a pillow to rest your chin on, you flipped up your skirt, and settled down, just as he ordered.

Oh. Your touches weren’t the thing he was in danger from cumming untouched from. It was that cum leaking cunt, just a bit swollen from the bullying he saw it took on stage, but oh so pretty. Transfixed, Landry leaned in, brushing his pale, slender thumb over your hole down to your clit.

“I-I would have… Cleaned myself out properly if I had known you wanted to…” You trailed off but he wasn’t listening.

His cock throbbed as he stroked over your cunt again. He was used to cold and hard. The rigid stools of his pub, or the air-conditioned office he holed up in for most of his adult life. Cold, hard cash exchanging gloved hands.

But you were soft, warm… Inviting him into your body. He felt like you were sucking his thumb in when he dipped it into your hole. You had been fucked, not loose, but ready for him. The thought made his stomach twinge and he finally got up from his seated position and shucked his trousers down, hissing between his teeth as his erection finally sprang free.

The Fence got properly behind you, his cock skimming your raised ass and leaving pre-cum glinting against your skin. He smacked his cockhead against the rim of your ass for a few moments before diverting his attention back to your cunt. You squirmed as you felt his bare thighs press against your legs, his skin a bit colder than you were expecting, making you shift a bit. Your squirming had your hole kiss his cock momentarily and Landry hissed through his teeth.

“S-Sorry.” You murmured before squeaking as his fingers dug into the soft of your ass.

Landry used his thumbs to pull your pussy lips apart, dragging the length of his cock along your cunt, getting it wet. He had to close his eyes, biting down on his lip to keep from swearing. He was not going to cum from a pussy job, he didn’t want to cum just from a pussy job, but just rubbing against you was okay, just for a bit.

Your slick and your colleagues’ cum covered his cock in no time, Landry barely noticing that you always had begun to shiver as his shaft teased your poor clit with its movements. Ah… Fuck.

You froze up slightly as his cockhead pressed against your hole, savouring the feeling just for a moment before slipping in, almost at home inside your cunt. Landry groaned, his tight grip on your ass shivering as he hunched over you, more like a dog over his mate, than a man.

Something new you learned about your boss… Landry’s cock was as slender and tall as he was.

And by god, his cockhead nudged deliciously at a spot that had your knees weak.

“Fuck.” You breathed, eyes hazy as you gripped the sheets.

“Fuck.” He agreed.

Landry gave an experimental thrust, hips snapping against your ass with a wet slap, and you whined into the pillow, eyes fluttering shut. Soon he began a rough rhythm, the slick sounds of you pussy and combined moans filling the room. The headboard joined in, smacking against the wall with deep thumps, Landry too focused on fucking into you as deep as he could to notice the noise. Your toes were curling with every nudge of his cockhead inside of you, your fingers gripping the sheets tighter and tighter as you moaned and bounced back on him.

You were getting oh so close when you felt him shiver, cum filling you in heavy spurts before dripping out, onto the sheets. You gave a satisfied sigh. You honestly didn’t cum a lot in your line of work, but it was rare that someone knew what they were doing when fucking you. You were about to sit up, maybe turn to Landry and offer a few kisses when his hand clamped over your mouth. You froze up in shock but calmed down slightly when perfectly ironed out notes fluttered down in front of you. More than before.

“I’m sorry.” Landry murmured into your ear. “I’m sorry, I can’t stop, please, please, just let me- “

He was hardening rapidly inside of you again and immediately started working his hips, this time his chest pressed against your sweaty back. When he wasn’t babbling softly, his teeth nipped at your neck, your ear, leaving small, dark marks on your skin. The hand that covered your mouth pulled back and instead clutched at your chest, not even playing with your nipples, just kneading at the soft of your breast.

Both of your moaning and soft swearing resumed within seconds, rutting against each other like beasts in heat. Here, with his nose buried in your neck, his teeth decorating your skin and his cock bullying your soft, squishy insides, Landry could admit that you, your body, you skills, you, had proved to be such a divine weakness, he couldn’t handle it.

Before too long, he came again, and more notes fluttered down from above you.

Then again, and more notes.

By the time your thighs were wet with his cum and your own orgasms, he had simply pushed his wallet into your hand, both of you naked and sweaty and coiled around each other. Mouths pressed against each other lazily, Landry slurring out soft apologies as he ruined your lips, your cunt, littered every inch of you with bruises from his grip, with love bites.

When finally his ball tightened painfully, out of cum to fuck into you over and over again, you were out, snoozing against his shoulder, after murmuring for him to keep using you, despite the haze that settled over your mind.

Landry let his head flop back against the pillow and sighed, letting his cock spring out of you, strings of cum still connecting your hole with his head.

“Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you.” He pressed kisses along your face as he murmured his gratitude to you in a low voice.

It wasn’t exactly how he had planned for this to go. Landry fully had just expected to use you once, maybe even just let you jerk him off and disappear back into his pub, back into his cool office with the hard chair. Lying with you on his chest, both of you fucked out of cum and with crumpled bank notes surrounding the two of you, was not in his planner, admittedly.

Though, he did wonder if he should offer to properly clean and iron out the notes for you, when you had awoken. It would give you both some time to see if his old chair could withstand both of your weights as you waited for your notes to finish up.

Kofi

Masterlist

AO3

#dol #landry the criminal #commission #degrees of lewdity #nsft #quincewrites

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spaceagebachelorstan · 2 years

Text

rating rtc ship names and giving my opinions on them because i can and im bored, except i just make some up and have still probably missed out most of the names. ten points to whoever guesses which ones i made up tho

quick note that my opinions of the ship will not affect my ratings of the ship name because that would be boring

mischa x talia

15/10 amazing canon for a reason talia is real in my eyes i dont accept any other option she is. real they are in love

i haven't actually seen any ship names for this one

mischa x noel

50/10 amazing showstopping they are so everything ever i love them so much they are. life itself

nischa - 7/10 - gets the job done, simple, a bit boring though, bonus points for the isch sound

passionfruit - 100/10 - its cute, its fun, it makes sense, good ship name and my personal favourite

bad romance - 9/10 - funny, it has some logic behind it, easily identifiable, not very common though

frenchrap - 6/10 - idk the syllables dont flow imo, points for how easily recognisable it is

mischa x talia and mischa x noel

17372737288/10 i am a firm believer in this ship noel talia besties real mischa has two hands im not even doing poly ships in this post and yet i still put this in because i love it so much noel x mischa x talia real

i also havent seen any ship names for this one

mischa x ricky

8/10 solid ship, its cute, its good, i quite like it. i dont ship it a lot but its nice, i'd read a fic about it and have read one fic about it in the past (there are actually criminally few fics of this ship). its definitely grown on me tbh

passionspace - 8/10 - a lot of syllables but they flow so im fine with that, rolls off my tongue nicely

spacerap - 8/10 - i like this one, its fun, its nice, its recognisable, nothing astounding but its good

spaceaccent - 7/10 - wordy, but its not bad. its nicely shaped if any of you get what i mean but that might just be the tism talking

shootingstar - 7.5/10 - i like ship names that are already established phrases, so this one gets points for that. needs a bit of thought but i like the alliteration

noel x ricky

8.5/10 its sweet, ive read a few fics on it and seen a few headcanons abt it, and i like it, its cute. they r so <3

starrypoet - 10000/10 - THIS IS THE CUTEST SHIP NAME IVE EVER HEARD OH MY GODDDD its so cute its everything my lord this ship name makes me so happy

frenchspace - 6/10 - eh. not much to it, a bit bland imo. points for recognisability

tragicspace - 9/10 - lovely, i like this one. it flows well in my brain

spacehooker - 8/10 - funny, to the point, makes sense. the only thing is it catches me off guard every time i think of the phrase spacehooker

penny/jane x ricky

10/10 literally perfect they are everything ever i love them so so canon they are so jajskskdk /pos

spacedolls - 100/10 - cute, fun, universally recognised, love itself

luckystar - 8/10 - cute, needs a bit of thinking but it makes sense once you figure it out, idk i just think its cute, minus points bcs it isnt spacedolls and spacedolls is so ingrained in my brain i see it as THE ship name

ive seen very few ship names bcs spacedolls is so universally beloved

ricky x ocean

1/10! i find it hard to ship ocean with men, but even if i look outside of that i still dont ship it tbh.

starstudent - 9/10 - good name, makes sense, its an already established word/phrase which i like in a ship name

gingercat - 7/10 - a little uninspired but wtv its alright.

seaspace - 6/10 - flows nicely, alliteration, ship can be worked out through context, bit ehhhh tho

mischa x ocean

6/10 once again i don't really ship ocean with men, but i do see the appeal tbh, pretty cute. very few ship names though

topcomment - 9/10 - this is cute, this is fun, it makes me smile when i see this ship name

oscha - 7/10 - it actually flows really well but i can only think of osha the health violations thing

mischa x constance

5/10 i have seen exactly one fic of this, it was pretty cute ngl. i dont think its finished yet tho. i am completely neutral on this ship. once again ive seen very few ship names

candyrapper - 10326262/10 - THIS IS SO CUTE OMG i love it sm. genuinely its so shhdhdhd /pos

sugarrap - 8/10 - pretty cute, i just think i like the word sugar tbh, double r gets it more points

coffeeshot - 6/10 - sounds okay but its too close to coffeeshop imo

ocean x constance

9/10 yes yes they are so yes i love them (post development). they are so cute i love them

blackrose - 10/10 - its cute its recognisable everybody gets what this is its so <3

saltwatertaffy - 7/10 - points for creativity but it has too many t's which gives it too many pauses

sweet n salty - 6/10 - fun but its more of a sentence and that puts me off

ocean x penny/jane

8/10 very cute i quite like this one ^^

gingersnaps - 7/10 - its reallt really cute but i havent been able to clock why snaps is there. like yeah janes neck but its not clicking in my brain so minus points

gingerdolls - 7/10 - cute, a little pop-y (idk how to explain it its got the. sounds) but nice

perfectdolls - 8/10 - pretty cute, too many constant sounds though

penny/jane x constance

7/10 its cute, i like it, very nice. ngl i just like the idea of development from constance being freaked out by her to accepting her and them falling in love, and i think they could bond over being unnoticed

sugardolls - 9/10 - cute, rolls off my tongue nicely, makes me feel all fuzzy

teaparty - 8/10 - cute! i didnt get this one at first tbh but then i saw an explanation and now i love this ship name

wooden dolls - 6/10 - had to have this one explained as well, don't really like it that much tbh

penny/jane x mischa

4/10 i don't ship this bcs i see them as siblings tbh, but other than that there isnt anything wrong with the ship

nestingdolls - 10/10 - this is the best one its cute its superior you cannot convince me otherwise

rapdolls - 7/10 - got a nice pop but the words feel a little disjointed imo

passiondolls - 7.5/10 - a lot of syllables but its pretty balanced overall

oddcomment - 7/10 - idk i think this one is nice

karnak x virgil

???/10 funny as a meme, ngl the roleplay accts have made me not hate this, established relationship i can deal but i dont think id read a fic on it. sidenotes rp accts my beloved if any of you are reading this u r great <3

electricity - 10/10 - the only ship name ive seen for this, funny, to the point, fits the ship, it does its job and there isnt any need for anything else

edit: I FORGOT RICKY X CONSTANCE ENTIRELY I AM SO SORRY

ricky x constance

4/10 i hold no opinions of this ship. i’ve seen nobody ship it tbh. i only remembered this one bcs i saw a comment about it somewhere and realised i had not, in fact, included them in this post. once again i am so sorry

sugarspace - 8.5/10 - its got alliteration, its got a nice balance, it has the word sugar in it. good name. i like it

catcafe - 7/10 - cute, i like it, but minus points because i don't like the fe sound.

sweetspace - 8/10 - similar to sugarspace, but half a point less bcs i prefer the word sugar

i think that's all of them, tell me if i missed any though (not including humanised cyclone ships)

edit: it appears i've missed some but i dont know which ships they're for. some of them i can guess but others im unsure of so here. if i've missed any more feel free to tell me and i'll add them to the bonus section

bonus section:

retroraps - 8/10 - nice alliteration, nice sounds, i like the singular t. it really brings this ship name together

sweetpassion - 9/10 - this one is good bcs it makes sense and its got two s sounds

perfectpassion - 8/10 - double p makes it pop /pos, the s and the emphasised e and the double p is >>

ragedolls - 9/10 - balanced, good sounds, recognisable. solid ship name

#ride the cyclone #noel gruber #mischa bachinski #ricky potts #ocean oconnell rosenberg #penny lamb #constance blackwood #jane doe rtc #i made a good quarter of these up #lol #ricky rtc #penny rtc #mischa rtc #rtc musical #noel rtc #ocean rtc #constance rtc

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graphophobiac · 8 months

Text

WHUMPTOBER DAY THREE - Rip Out My Spine

Solitary confinement

A/N: This is a day late, but this just means today is a double post day ! This piece gave me some trouble because I was very tired yesterday. But I finished it and here we are !!

TW: THIS FIC INCLUDES SELF HARM

They didn’t know what they did wrong. They never did. Oftentimes the reason they were punished wasn’t even their fault to begin with. Oftentimes it felt like they were put in situations just so that they could be punished for it. But they still knew they deserved it. Sometimes they wondered if they would be punished for breathing wrong; although not with those specific words. Being an illiterate five year old did not making thinking in words easy, talking and listening were even harder.

And that brings them to why they were being punished. They weren’t following instructions and it was their fault that they couldn’t understand what was being asked of them. All they heard was noise, not words and sentences with structures and questions. And that was their fault, their fault for not learning fast enough when they were well past the age they should have learned to talk. And they could make sounds. But they had no words to make those sounds make sense.

So here they were, cowering with their arms over their head while they were being screamed at, unable to understand a word that was being shrieked to them. The woman’s voice was shrill and hurt their ears, her face was red with how frustrated at them they were. She was angry and when someone was angry that meant they were going to get hurt. They never could predict what it would be, but so often did they think their life was going to end, even if they didn’t understand what dying meant. They were scared regardless and didn’t want to hurt again.

Eventually, the woman reached out and grabbed their wrist, digging her razor sharp nails into their pale, fragile skin, easily drawing blood as she began to drag them along with her to who knows where. She was mumbling under her breath, like it would make any sense to them. It didn’t. It never did. Nothing ever made sense. Things were so much simpler when they were on the streets; it was cold, they were hungry but it was simple. There were simple problems, hunger, and simple solutions, steal - though quite often they got caught as five year olds didn’t tend to have the finesse of a seasoned criminal. The only thing that gave them any sort of edge was their wings; they were small and full of fluffy down feathers so by no means could they fly yet. But flapping them made them run just a tiny bit faster. Or at the very least it felt like it did. And sometimes there were kind people who would buy them a warm meal or give them water! People were kind outside sometimes! Here nothing made sense and no one was ever kind. Not to them. Especially never to them.

they were being taken down an unfamiliar hallway; of course, it was hard to tell when every room in this god damn place looked the same, but the route was different to anywhere they had been taken before. The winding, sterile halls were mind numbing, but this was different. Where were they being taken? Where where where?

They eventually got their answer when all of a sudden the woman came to a stop in front of a door. A large metal door. There were more people now, people they couldn’t recognise. the woman was making noises back and forth with them. Less banshee-like and more cat hissing. Oh no, they had been especially bad if they were getting a new punishment. Their body still ached from the last one and dark bruises littered their body, covered by their thin clothing.

The door was opened in one swift motion by one of them men that had joined their side and they were unceremoniously picked up and thrown inside of the room with a resounding smack onto hard concrete. They cried out, pain shooting through their back, their wings twisted and crushed beneath their body upon impact. They scrambled up onto their knees, eyes wide and filling with tears.

None of the adults spoke once they were inside the room. It was cold and dark; the only light was what was streaming in from the doorway. There were no windows, the walls were unpainted concrete. They didn’t want to be here. They got to their feet before trying to run out, only to be shoved back down by the same man that had opened the door. He opened his mouth, but again what he said made no sense to them. Those people never seemed to realise they simply could not understand them, even if it was so startlingly obvious. They had no patience for developmentally behind children it seemed, so instead of trying to help they were punished for not following orders even when they didn’t know they were being asked to do something, let alone what it was.

They were on their back like an upturned turtle, a cry escaping them as the door was slammed shut and darkness coated their vision. They couldn’t even see their hand or any of their body. All they could see was pitch blackness forever. But it didn’t go on forever, did it? They could see walls before the door was closed. Where was the door? Could they open the door? They didn’t hear a click that they knew meant it was locked. But where was the door?

They stumbled to their feet, straining and widening their eyes and reaching out, waving their arms as they walked back and forth, trying to find the walls, or the door. They wanted out. Out, out, let them out.

They couldn’t find the walls. Did they even exist? Did the darkness go on forever? What did forever even mean? They didn’t know. They didn’t know anything. No one taught them. They were just expected to somehow know. Like how they were supposed to know how to speak, or the “alphabet”, or to respond to instructions, or to understand said instructions.

They sat back down on the floor. They knew that was there, they could feel it beneath their feet. The floor was real, at least. They could touch it, press their face against it, curl up on it into a tiny little ball. Maybe if they closed their eyes and went to sleep, when they woke up this would be over. They had tried that before when they had been left alone in pain. When they woke up the pain always remained. But… this was different. They weren’t being hit. They were just… Alone…? It was weird. It was quiet and dark and they did not like it.

Did they even close their eyes? They couldn’t tell. It was dark either way. Their eyes hurt. They felt dry.

Blink.

Their eyes hurt less. The darkness of their eyelids felt less scary than the darkness of the room. They could control that darkness. They could hide behind it and pretend they were in their little room, on their stiff bed. The concrete actually didn’t feel too different from the bed. Yeah. They were just in their cramped room. Not in the weird dark room. They were fine. They weren’t in trouble. Soon enough someone would be coming to take them to those weird lessons that didn’t make any sense and they didn’t learn anything from.

𓆰

… They were still in the dark, quiet room. No one was coming to take them out.

How long had it been? Minutes? Days? Hours? Weeks?

Time was a concept they only understood instinctively; ways of measuring it were beyond them. They definitely didn’t have the words to describe lengths of time (like they had any understandable words to begin with). It felt like forever. Infinity. Darkness stretching on and on and on. There were no walls, no doors, no escape.

Their stomach hurt and their mouth was dry; no one had come to give them food or water. Or, well, they hadn’t seen anyone do that. Once a small bowl of rice and a cup of water were on the floor. They only realised it was there when they stepped on the bowl while trying to find the edges of this little infinite void they were stuck in. The rice tasted of nothing but they ate it all regardless and they gulped the water down as soon as they realised it was there.

But that had been forever ago. And they were hungry and thirsty again. And the food and water only appeared when the thirst had felt unbearable and their head pounded unbearably and their stomach left them in agony. Their only distraction was trying and failing to find the walls that they swore existed.

𓆰

Their wings were itchy. It was an itch that wouldn’t go away no matter how much they scratched with their jagged nails, even as blood covered their hands and they accidentally yanked out their own feathers.

Yanked out their own feathers?

Wait.

That felt… good. It felt better. It distracted them from the nothing surrounding them. It distracted them from the mindless panic that swirled their thoughts.

Off, get them off, get them off.

𓆰

It started to hurt.

They were running out of feathers to pluck and their wings were in agony. Dried blood stuck to their hands, the floor, their clothes, their back. Everywhere. Iron was all they could smell but it was something. It was better than the tasteless rice or the darkness. The only bad thing was that it was sticky. The blood stuck to their hands and they couldn’t get it off, they couldn’t it wouldn’t come off.

Their wings were cold.

That was something new.

𓆰

They didn’t like the cold or the iron anymore. It was bad. Bad bad bad. It hurt. They had no more feathers to pluck. All gone. All gone. Gone gone gone.

They curled up on the floor, shivering, too dehydrated to cry, their throat too raw to make a sound.

They never realised they had been screaming. They never realised they made any sounds at all. But their throat hurt like they had been the whole time.

The cold sank deep into their bones. Their blood was cold. Their heart was slow. Were they dying? Was this what dying felt like?

𓆰

The door opened. The door and walls existed again.

They flinched violently as the metal door swung open once more, crashing into the concrete wall. Suddenly they were real again. Real real real real. They looked around, eyes wide, head darting back and forth. The light blinded them and their pupils contracted to tiny pinpricks. They could see but couldn’t at the same time. Bright. Too bright. They wanted the dark again they wanted it back back give it back.

Hands wrapped around their arms and hauled them to their feet. They squirmed, the touch burning burning their frigid skin. They were dragged out of the safety of the dark, quiet room and back into the bright, loud world. Their ears rang as words that now made even less sense were spoken. It was garbled and too loud.

Their legs didn’t work, They were dragged along by the men holding them, their feet limp across the ground. Where were they being taken now? Back to their room? But it wasn’t the dark, quiet room. The dark, quiet room was safe. Nowhere else was safe. Nowhere. Nowhere. Nowhere was safe. They wanted to be nowhere again. They didn’t recognise the halls anymore, they didn’t know where their room was and they didn’t know where the nowhere was. Back, back take them back.

They wanted to go back.

#whumptober2023 #no. 3 #solitary confinement #original content #OC #whumptober #self harm #writing #creative writing #fic

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crushing83 · 2 years

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WIP Tag Game

I was tagged by @twisted-pride to find the words pillow, ghost, and secret in my WIPS. Thank you for the tag! I couldn't spread them out over different/separate fandoms, but I tried to find each word in a different unfinished story.

Pillow

This is an excerpt from the third installment of what I call my "MCU dissertation" story. The series (two stories so far) can be found here.

"Good morning, Boss Lady Junior. It's seven-thirty-two. The date is Tuesday, July fifteenth. You are scheduled to depart for day camp at eight-forty-five."

Morgan smiled and rubbed her cheek against her pillow. It was going to be a good day.

While dreaming, her dad told her how to put Jamie, the bully, in his place; she was looking forward to putting a stop to his antics. Her camp friend, Tricia, was Jamie's target and Morgan hated the way he treated her.

One of the counsellors told them that Jamie probably had a crush on Tricia. That, in Morgan's opinion, was shit. If someone liked another person, they should treat the person nicely; they should prove they're worthy of squishy feelings in return. Treating them badly was just absolutely the wrong way to go about it.

(Plus, they were only seven. Who wanted crushes and feelings and having to hold hands when there were adventures to have (and robots to build)? Not Morgan!)

Her dad showed her how to break Jamie's grip when he grabbed Tricia's arm. And he showed her how to punch Jamie in the nose. They practised in her dream. She should probably practise in real life, too.

Ghost

I found this word in the sequel to my MCU!Sensate story.

He never knew what to expect anymore. Since Tony woke with the arc reactor back in his chest and extremis in his veins, he spent most of his time in the lab; he never took blockers, so their cluster and Darcy were free to visit him, but there was some sort of distance between them.

No one wanted to push Tony, since he'd been dealt several shocks (betrayal and grief on top of their reunion), but everyone was worried.

With Tony's upcoming scheduled video call to the Accords committee, though, someone was going to have to push a little. James would be first—and hopefully successful.

"Tony?"

His question garnered zero response. James guided his chair further into the room; he kept his eyes trained on Tony, who didn't move or blink.

When he sank into their bond and tried to visit Tony's mind, the visual was... different. He expected to see themselves—or at least Tony—in the workshop, just as they were. Instead, there was a void; something akin to white noise filled his ears. If he turned his head and looked into the heart of the darkness with his peripheral vision, he thought he could see the shape of someone-but the figure was too curvy and too short to be Tony and James couldn't place them.

It was a ghost, perhaps, or a memory, and James didn't recognise the significance.

"Oh, not this again."

James pulled out of the visit as soon as he heard Darcy's voice behind him. She put her hand on James' shoulder for a light squeeze as she walked towards Tony. Instead of treating Tony with kid gloves, Darcy put her hands on his shoulders; she slid her fingers from his shoulders to his neck to his jaw, and she gently turned him to face her.

Secret

I found this in multiple stories (like, repeatedly in my ongoing MCU/Teen Wolf/Criminal Minds fic, Stark Hearts), but I decided to go with a Teen Wolf Derek/Stiles/Allison/Kira WIP I started ages ago and never finished.

"Stiles," Derek muttered.

"You know he's been practicing these talks for a couple weeks now, in his fortress of solitude," Allison teased. She reached behind Kira and nudged Derek's closest upper arm; when she finished, she settled her arm around Kira's shoulders. "Let him go at his own pace."

"So. Like we told you before. Scott's still an alpha, as far as I know. Liam's still away at school. Mason, too. Peter and Malia are travelling. Lydia's in some top secret research thingy," Stiles said. He shrugged. "They come back on breaks and stuff."

"But, Derek flashed his red eyes—"

Stiles nodded quickly, repeatedly. "Oh, yeah, he's our alpha. Mine and Allison's. Yours, too, if you want," he said. "I mean, I know kitsunes don't usually form packs, but we've all been hoping... it sort of feels like you're supposed to be here, with us. Like, that's why the nemeton told me you were free."

"But, no pressure," Derek added. "If you'd rather continue on to New York, to be with your family—"

"You've got to be kidding," Kira muttered. "I can't even look at my mother on a screen without wanting to scream at her."

"All the same," Allison piped up, squeezing Kira's shoulders gently. "There's no pressure. We'd just ask you to keep Derek's status a secret. Only a few people know he's an alpha again, and we're trying to be quiet about that."

Aaaand, now for the hard part. The tagging. I am going to pester @little-red-83, @sheinthatfandom, and @nocompromise-noregrets. But! Anyone who sees this and wants to tackle it, please do :) The words I choose for you are vine, touch, and shine.

#writing wip #wip meme #fanfic writing #inquiring minds want to know #project overload #mcu #teen wolf

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midnightreid · 3 years

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NEEDY | SPENCER REID

Summary: After a long case, Spencer wakes up feeling needy, and who are you to deny your boy some affection?

Prompt: “Look at you, grinding against everything, you’re really desperate for it. Aren’t you?”

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader (no pronouns used though!)

Word count: 1.4k Warnings: SMUT, 18+, Sub! Spencer, swearing, dom! reader, fingering, cum eating, thigh fucking, pet names, nipple play (fem receiving), g/n pronouns for the reader!

A/N: Praying that this post works since Tumblr keeps deciding to destroy my other fics. Also, yes, if you recognise this piece I'm just cross-posting it onto this new blog from willowrose99 because this is now a dedicated NSFW Criminal Minds blog. So, if you're looking for more NSFW content, then this is the place to follow!

PLEASE REBLOG FOR MORE NSFW SPENCER REID FICS!

Anyone that was close to Spencer knew that the young man needed a lot of attention, a lot of affection and a lot of love. They knew the life he’d already lived was brutal to him, his ability to trust was lacking and his skill at showing others how much they meant to him was often overlooked and misunderstood.

But when you were there, when you took him in your arms and held him, ran your fingers through his hair and let him lean against your chest into the early hours of the morning, he knew that you understood what he needed, what he wanted. And you, well, you weren’t even going to hesitate about giving it to him.

Sometimes Spencer was controlled, knowing what he wanted and how to get it, but on mornings like this one, when he’d just gotten back from a case a couple hours ago that seemed to rip his heart apart and then stitch it back together, the both of you knew that he needed to be taken care of. So, when he rutted up against you, pressed his groin into yours as you laid tangled in the sheets, you knew exactly what was about to happen.

He was already so wound up, hands gripping your hips tight to move against you quickly, not caring that he already looked a mess or that you weren’t responding to his touch, he just wanted something, anything. Yet when he looked up at you from where he laid against your chest, with big wide brown eyes that shone and his bottom lip between his teeth, you couldn’t hold back then.

“Mmm, has my baby woken up wanting something?” He nods vigorously, rutting against you and letting out a moan when you bucked your hips up to meet his, jolting him and pressing further into him. “Do you want me to help you get what you want, baby boy? C’mon, I know you can use your words, Spencer.” He ground out a whimper at the sound of his name, and let his head drop into the crook of your collar bone, lips leaving wet sloppy kisses against your skin as your hand carded through his hair, tugging slightly on the chestnut strands.

“Please, Y/N, fuck.” He huffed against your body, and for a moment he squirmed when you brushed your fingertips over the skin of his back, feeling his muscles flex as he moved above you, pace becoming faster.

“Look at you, grinding against everything, you’re really desperate for it. Aren’t you?” He moans again, louder this time as your nails scrape at his back and chest, and as you push against his torso, he sits up so that he’s straddling you. His face is red, hair falling over his eyes, and his eyes are gazing at you with his signature puppy look the both of you know you can’t refuse. But this morning, you decide you need some satisfaction as well, and when you smile up at him with that devilish smile that grips at his heart and makes his eyes widen and mouth drop open, he knows instantly that you’re going to make him work for it. “Fine, Spencer. If you want to come, then you’ve gotta make me come first, sweetheart.” He whines loudly then, nearly wanting to beg you to change your mind, to let him come first, but when you stare back at him with a look so firm and unwavering, he knows you’re not going to change your mind.

Spencer had always been good with his hands, a fact that didn’t often escape those that came in contact with him. His penmanship was delicate, his fingers long and careful, so when he went to reach underneath your underwear, you knew what he was about to do. But it still had you arching your back like always when he brushed a fingertip over your clit.

The both of you knew that neither of you would last long, you hadn’t been together in over a week because of work and with the way that Spencer was currently sliding his fingers in between your folds to gather your wetness, the both of you could feel the desperation seeping out of each other. You didn’t expect him to taste you though, to bring his fingers up into his mouth, sucking them in until his eyes were rolling back at the taste and his fingers came back clean. That nearly had you coming undone right then. But then he really had you going when he eased a finger into you, tight and hot and oh so comforting to the young man that was still grinding himself against your thigh.

“God Spencer, fuck that feels so good.” Encouraged by your words, he thrust them in faster, watching with pure delight on his face as you rocked up to meet him, chest heaving and mouth hanging open as pleasure racked your body, and for a moment, as he added another finger and crooked them up to hit your sweet spot, he thought he had you, thought he had the upper hand. Until your shirt rode up and he could get a look at you palming your breasts. That’s when he really lost it.

Somehow, as the man took one of your nipples between his lips and started to suck, he still kept up the speed of his thrusts, matching them with how his hips rotated and he pushed his hard-on against your thigh. You couldn’t make a noise then, lost for words as he ground down on your, tongue laving over your breasts as you let your hands fall to his hair and tug hard. He moaned low and loud against your chest, but for the moment all you could do was curse and whine, feeling his fingers pushing you quickly to the edge. And suddenly you were diving off it, pulling him into a kiss as he felt you gush around his fingers, so damn hot against his skin.

“Fuck, oh shit, Spencer…” Your words trailed off as he reattached his lips to yours, grinding against you again with a renewed vigour knowing he’d done the one thing you had asked of him. “There we go, that’s it, baby boy. You gonna come against my thigh, yeah?” He nodded his head, hands grabbing for your breasts, for anything to hold onto as his cock bobbed and you watched, hunger in your eyes. “Then come on baby, I wanna see you come without my hand even touching you.” He groaned loudly again, but continued on with his movements, knowing that even though he desperately wanted you to touch his aching cock, wrap your hand around him and jerk him until completion, getting to come was enough of a reward.

And suddenly it was happening. Suddenly he was coming over your thigh and hip, watching as his cum spurted out and onto your hot skin that seemed to shine in front of him. He kept rutting over you until he was finished, wanting it to last as long as it could until finally, his body was going limp over yours and you took it upon yourself to catch the man, bring him in against your chest and run your hands soothingly over his back and through his hair.

“There we go, Spencer. God, you were so good, so good for me sweetheart.” He was melting into your embrace, kissing over your warm skin, and humming thank you’s quietly. And you gave him as much love back, pressing a kiss to his forehead as he calmed down, reaching over to the tissue box so you could wipe his cum off your skin before taking him back into your arms and pulling a blanket over the both of you. “I love you; you know that right, Spence?”

“I know, Y/N. I know. And I love you too, thank you for taking care of me when I needed it. He’s half falling asleep against you, but you don’t mind, knowing that the weekend was free and you had all the time in the world to rest. And as he lets out a content sigh and snuggles closer to you as you press a delicate kiss to his lips, you utter out the words he’s been waiting to hear.

“I’ll take care of you every day, Spencer, I’m never not going to take care of you, my love.”

Spencer might be insecure sometimes, would rather hide away in the shadows than draw attention to himself, but when the two of you are together, when he’s wrapped up in your arms and you’re giving him all the love you can, he knows that this is what he deserves, that this is what he needs and what he loves. He loves you, you love him, and that’s perfect for the both of you.

PLEASE REBLOG FOR MORE NSFW SPENCER REID FICS!

MESSAGE OR COMMENT TO BE ADDED TO NSFW SPENCER TAGLIST!

Tagged: @wasteland-bvby @reidemandweep @reidology @cacoetheswriting @madswonders @spookydrreid @peachpitfics @spencersmagic @reidsconverse @thank-the-lord @tobias-hankel @makaylajadewrites @rigatonireid @altsvu @b-a-utiful @mikewizkalifa @reidingmelodies @spenxerslut @spencers-renaissance @dralexreid @averyhotchner @bvttercupbby @lumoshotch @spencersawkward @spareau @moderatelydelusional @spencerreid9

#spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x fem!reader #sub!spencer #criminal minds smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fics #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #spencer reid x y/n #midnight writes #midnight writes smut

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onceuponastory · 2 years

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on your side - nick fowler x reader

And she'll scream, and she'll shout, and she'll pray And she had a name Yeah, she had a name - stockholm syndrome by muse

Plot: “You know I’m on your side right?” For Nick and Y/N. Nick tries to get Y/N to trust him after she sees something she wasn’t meant to see. Warnings: This DOES contain spoilers for The 355 and Nick’s character, so read at your own risk! Other than that, this fic is dark (especially compared to what I usually write), so be warned. Minors, do not interact! It has: death, kidnapping, violence, injury, weapons (specifically guns), being tied up, threats (including death threats), panic/anxiety, hyperventilating, manipulation, gaslighting and Nick Fowler (look, by this point, he’s a warning all on his own). Also contains some love bites, and some boob and thigh touching. Nothing too sexually explicit, but still. If I’ve missed any triggers, please let me know. Note: Okay, LISTEN. I’m working on part two of my other Nick x reader fic Lies, but I wanted to write some more of Nick being his cocky self and showing just how cruel and coldhearted he can be, so I wrote this intending for it to be a small snippet, and here we are, about 4,000 words later, lmao.

“Where the hell has he gone?” Y/N asks herself, walking around the narrow hallways of the building that she and Nick are currently searching through. They’re both meant to be looking for a criminal accused of trafficking stolen artefacts, and their investigation has led them to this abandoned warehouse that he might be using as a base. Unfortunately, though, Nick has disappeared. Checking each room for either him or some new information, Y/N huffs. Ever since she got partnered up with Nick Fowler a few months ago, he’s been a pain in her ass ever since. He acts like he’s the best agent in the whole agency and thinks that means that he can do whatever he wants with no repercussions. For example, pulling a disappearing act in the middle of a mission, leaving her with all the work. Y/N sighs.

Nick would be a much better partner if he stopped disappearing all the time. But he’d be a much, much better one if she wasn’t so in love with him. Although Nick Fowler is a considerable pain in her ass, there’s something about him that made her fall for him. In all honesty, she’s not sure what it is. Maybe it’s his icy blue eyes or the cheeky grin that he flashes whenever she’s mad at him, which somehow always works at calming her down. Or maybe it’s that, despite how much he annoys her, Nick always has a kind word to say to her. That is after he’s gloated about his achievements for at least an hour, though. But Y/N knows that whatever it is doesn’t matter. She just wishes that she’d have a chance with Nick. Suddenly, she hears a noise from behind a door. It sounds like voices. Gently pressing her ear to the closed door, she tries to listen and see if she can recognise either of them. One jumps out at her immediately. Nick.

Huffing, she moves her left hand to the gun strapped to her belt and her other hand towards the doorknob. Typical Nick, charging into situations without any backup, trying to be the hero all on his own. She opens the door, ready to yell to the occupants to get down on the ground…but what she sees inside makes her stop in her tracks. It’s Nick, and it looks like he’s about to shake hands with the criminal they’ve been tracking for the past two weeks. Y/N frowns. “Nick? What’s going on? Why are you talking to him?” She asks. Nick turns to her, and he sighs disappointedly, shaking his head.

“Oh Y/N.” He begins. “You really weren’t meant to see this.” He looks behind her. “Deal with her, will you?” And before Y/N can say anything else, she feels something hit the back of her head, and it all fades to black.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Sometime later, Y/N slowly starts to come around again. There’s a pain in the back of her head, and she swears her ears are ringing. Her brain is foggy, and all she can remember is the man she last saw. “Nick…” She moans. “Nick….”

“It’s okay, Y/N. I’m here.” She can hear his voice, and she slowly opens her eyes. The bright light in the room makes her wince, and she closes her eyes again. “It’s okay.” Nick soothes. “You’ve been out for a few hours. Gave me quite a fright.” He chuckles. Y/N frowns. A few hours? But how? She was only trying to find Nick. How did she suddenly pass out?

“What…what happened to me?” She feels a hand, presumably Nick’s, gently brushing through her hair and around her forehead, and it gives her some comfort.

“You fell over and hit your head, darling.” Nick responds, his voice soft. Her heart swells a little at the nickname. “I heard this almighty crash and came running to find you on the floor, out cold. But it’s okay, I’m here now.” Y/N nods, ready to accept Nick’s explanation. But then, as she starts to fully wake up, all of her memories come flooding back to her. Memories of Nick and what looked like him doing a deal with a criminal. Of Nick telling someone to deal with her.

“No…” she trails off, shaking her head. “You-you got someone to knock me out. Because of what I saw.”

“Oh really? And what did you see?” Nick asks, his voice colder.

“You…” She takes a shaky breath. “Doing a deal with a criminal.” Nick huffs, and his hand is removed from her hair. Y/N opens her eyes to see him getting up from his chair and looking behind her again.

“For FUCK’S SAKE!” He yells. “You didn’t hit her hard enough! I wanted her to lose her memory!” After hearing that, Y/N decides she should leave. In a panic, she tries to get up, but something stops her. She looks down, and to her horror, she realises that she’s been tied to a chair, her wrists and ankles bound by rope. “Nick? What’s going on? Why am I tied up? Why were you-“ She asks, looking around the room, realising that instead of the office she was in previously, she’s now in some sort of grimy basement. She also realises that she and Nick are not alone in the room, and there are at least four other men armed with guns in the room with them. And no doubt Nick took her gun from her. Her heart rate rises in a panic. Oh god, she’s going to die. She’s going to die at the hands of her partner, the man she’s been in love with for the past few months, in some grimy basement. She’ll never see her friends or family again. She’ll never see the sun again. This isn’t how she wants to die. Not yet. Not now. She starts to hyperventilate. Nick notices this almost immediately.

“Hey...hey.” He whispers, sitting down in front of her. In an instant, she recognises part of the Nick she remembers. Someone who always treated her kindly, despite his arrogance. Someone who she thought she was in love with. But now, she has no idea who he is anymore. "It’s alright. I’m not going to let them hurt you.” He smiles. Y/N’s eyes glance to the armed men flanked on either side of him. Nick picks up on her anxiety, and turns to the armed men. “Can you please put those away for a moment? You don’t need them just now. Well, not yet anyway.” He chuckles, sending a shiver up her spine and causing her to feel even more confused. He’s the one who tied her up, and yet he’s still being nice to her? What is going on? “Now.” Nick leans forward. Instinctively, she leans back. Nick sighs, sounding disappointed by her reaction. “Look, I understand your fear. Really, I do. But I promise you, you don’t have anything to worry about.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” Y/N replies, struggling against the binds holding her wrists and ankles to the chair. “You’re not the one who’s been knocked out and then woken up tied to a chair, surrounded by men with guns.” Nick chuckles, and she raises a brow, confused about why he’s laughing.

“Yeah...I’m sorry about that, darling.” He leans forward again, gently lifting her chin up with his finger, despite how much she tries to get away from him. “But I had to make them extra tight to make sure you wouldn’t run off and spill my secrets.” He winks, and she hates how her heart rate rises as he does so, and as his fingers delicately brush against her skin. Although she’s been tied up on his orders, she still definitely has feelings for him. Nick must notice this, as he grins slightly. Thankfully, however, he says nothing and leans back in his chair, crossing his legs and folding his arms. He stares at her for a while in silence, his blue eyes scanning over her body. Y/N tries to strategise her way out, but no matter how hard she tries, her mind’s drawing a blank. This whole time she’s thought of the enemy as someone she didn’t know, a ghost in the shadows. But in reality, it’s the person she’s spent most of her days with and the man she’s head over heels in love with. She feels like everything she’s ever known and believed has crashed around her and she has no idea what’s going to happen now.

“So...what are you going to do to me?” Y/N asks nervously, her voice shaky. Nick huffs, rolling his eyes.

“I told you already, Y/N. I’m not going to hurt you, and neither are they.” He gestures to the other men in the room. “Well.” He begins, smirking. “Depending on what you say, that is.” Y/N raises an eyebrow in confusion, and Nick leans forward again. “You know, I’m on your side here.” Nick begins, smiling in what seems to be an attempt to make her feel more comfortable. It doesn’t work.

“Forgive me, Nick, but I’m failing to see how that’s true, given the circumstances.” Y/N cuts him off, interrupting him. In an instant, Nick’s demeanour changes. His smile drops, and his look becomes cold. Y/N feels another chill up her spine, and she can feel her heart rate increasing again, this time in fear. She regrets saying what she said as soon as she said it. After all, Nick is the one who has all the armed men under his control, while she’s the one tied to a chair under his orders. Now isn’t the best time to backtalk.

“Don’t interrupt me.” Nick warns, his voice low. “If you do want a shot of getting out of here without a bullet through your fucking skull, I suggest you shut up and listen to me for once, instead of opening your damn mouth. Got it?” Shaking, Y/N nods.

“Y-Yes Nick....” She trails off, and Nick gives her an expectant look. “...Sorry, Nick.” Nick’s expression changes again, and his stern look is replaced with another smile. This time, it doesn’t meet his eyes.

“Good girl. Sorry about that. I have to keep some order around here, especially with having your pretty face around here.” He jokes. Y/N doesn’t laugh. He takes a breath and continues. “Anyway, as I was saying. It may be hard to believe, but I am on your side. After all, I only want the best for you. Y/N. I want you to be out of here just as much as you do." He leans in even closer, and despite how much her body and mind is screaming at her to move away from him, she stays put. She’s too scared to try and invoke Nick’s anger again right now. “So join me.” He whispers, and she frowns slightly. “Back when I was in the CIA, I always felt as if I was destined for something more...that I deserved something more. Do you know what I was making as one of their best agents?” He asks, and Y/N stays silent, unwilling to point out that it’s probably the same as her. He sighs, rolling his eyes. “You can answer that one. It’s okay.”

“...No, Nick, I don’t know.” She gulps.

“Well, it was pitiful.” He spits. “I spent most of my life working there, defending the country, and they pay me in pennies. Shows how much they cared, right?” He asks, and Y/N nods, still shaking slightly. “So when my boss...my new boss, that is, came along and offered me a job doing his dirty work, where I would make far more money than I ever could in a day as an agent, I decided to take it. After all, I get to travel the world and work with some great things. For example, right now we’re working with priceless artefacts, as you know. Well.” He stops himself to laugh. “It’s not exactly working with them. It’s more...me taking them from other people for money. That’s what you walked in on, actually. I’ve just closed a two million dollar deal.” He smiles proudly. “And I always receive a cut of the money, and it’s always a good one.” He smiles, clearly trying to convince her that he’s right. “And to be honest, Y/N, I think you’d be a great fit for this line of work. I care about you too much to let you go back and work in that place again when there are so many better options out there, like this one. And that way, I can keep you safe.” And now Y/N is confused all over again. But for a moment, a part of her feels some happiness. Nick...cares about her? He wants her to be safe? But is that true? Does he really want her to be safe, even though she’s tied up under his command right now? After all, he did say he had to make sure she wouldn’t run. He said nothing about keeping her safe. But she’d be lying if a small part of her wasn’t intrigued and hopeful that Nick meant what he said, and that he did want her to come with him. His blue eyes scan over her again, and she follows his gaze with her eyes. “It’s okay. Take a moment to think about it. You can even ask me something about it if you’d like.” He reassures her and leans back in his chair, taking a sip from his whiskey glass. Although part of Y/N’s heart softens at his reassurance, she’s still wary. Of course, she would be. The man sitting in front of her just threatened her.

Y/N searches her mind for an answer. In the past, if Nick had asked her to join him, no questions asked, she would’ve done so in a heartbeat. But now, she knows the sort of person he is. And that’s not the kind of person she wants to be with. After all, she’s still tied to a chair, and he’s already threatened her today. Despite how much she’s still in love with him...even now, she can’t go with him. However, there is something she’d like to know. “Why me, Nick?” She enquires. “I mean, I guess I understand why you’ve done this...” She gently shakes her ankles and wrists. “But I don’t understand why you want me to come with you after all this.” In response, Nick scoots his chair forward, coming even closer to her.

“Because I want you to.” He whispers. “And because I know how you feel about me.” Y/N gasps, her cheeks blushing slightly.

“You...you do?” Smiling softly, Nick chuckles.

“Yeah. Sorry darling, but it wasn’t exactly well hidden.” He reaches forward and lifts her chin up again. Y/N’s breath hitches in her throat. What the hell is he doing? Is he telling the truth? Nick runs his fingers gently down her cheeks towards her jawline with his free hand. Y/N swears she almost stops breathing. “It’s a good thing I feel the same way then, isn’t it?” He responds. Before Y/N can do or say anything else, Nick leans in and gently presses a kiss to her lips. Y/N eagerly returns it.

“What are you doing?” She can hear the little voice in her head saying. “Stop being so desperate. He’s just playing with your feelings to get you to trust him so you won’t expose him.” But, she pays no notice to it. After all, this is all she’s ever wanted. She tries to lift her wrists to run her fingers through Nick’s hair, but she can’t. It’s then that she remembers that she’s still tied up. “See?” The voice returns again. “He doesn’t care about you. If he did, he wouldn’t have tied you up.” As if he senses her discomfort, Nick kisses her even deeper, like he’s trying to drown out the doubts in her head. And it works. “Mmm...mmm, Nick...” Y/N moans. Even though she knows it’s wrong of her, she continues to let herself be taken in by Nick. Ever since she met Nick, she’s spent most of her time pining over him, dreaming of a moment like this, and now she has it. And she’s going to hold onto it for as long as she can, despite the circumstances that led her here. Soon, he pulls apart from her.

“Oh, darling...” He tuts slightly. “Have you never been kissed like that before?” She shakes her head. “Oh, dear.” He sighs. “We can’t have that.” His eyes look over her again, almost as if he’s hungry for more. Before she can say anything, he moves down her neck, finding a spot further down. He sucks on it, and she knows it’ll turn purple soon. She also knows what that means. He’s marking her as his. He does care about her. He does want her to join him. Why else would he do this?

“Nick...” Y/N whimpers. Nick looks back up at her, smirking.

“You like that?” He asks, and she nods furiously. He goes back to sucking on her neck, and she leans back slightly, letting herself enjoy the feeling and sinking deeper and deeper into his temptation. Once he’s finished, Nick leans back in close. “Join me.” He repeats. “Come with me, and I can kiss you like that...and touch you like this...” He moves his hands down her shirt, cupping her breast, and she gasps, her breath hitching in her throat. “...All day long. Here...and here.” He moves his other hand down and up her skirt, resting it on her inner thigh. Y/N gasps. His hands are cold, but it feels like her skin is on fire. “Just like you always wanted. Just say yes. And I’ll be all yours. And you’ll be all mine.” He whispers, his breath hot on her cheek. Y/N opens her mouth, ready to say yes, ready to let the darkness take her fully. But then, she feels pain in her wrist. She opens her eyes and looks down. Her wrists are scarred from the ligatures digging into her skin. No doubt her ankles will be in a similar state. Her mind goes back to when she saw Nick before she got knocked out and the anger in his face. The cold and callous way he spoke to her earlier. Of course, this is all she wanted...but not like this. Never like this. She wanted him to want her just the way she was and for it to be initiated in a normal way, not with her tied to a chair after finding out what sort of person he is. She wanted Nick to love her, without the pain, and without the suffering....without the possession. And her mind goes back to the little voice in her head.

“He doesn’t love you. He’s just trying to play with your feelings.” And her heart sinks. Because she knows it’s right.

“Y/N?” Nick asks, gently tracing his finger down her jawline again. This time, Y/N doesn’t reply. “Hello?”

“No...” She whispers. She’s so quiet that Nick doesn’t hear her initially, and he frowns.

“I’m sorry, what was that, sweetheart?”

“No.” She repeats, her voice louder. Nick leans back, removing his hand from down her shirt and up her skirt. She hates how her heart aches as he does that, and how much she wishes he’d put them back. Nick frowns even more.

“What do you mean, ‘no’? I thought this is all you wanted.”

“It was all I wanted.” She admits. “But I don’t anymore. Yes, Nick, I do love you. But I can’t go with you. Not after you’ve done all this to me.” She shakes her wrists at him as best as she can. Nick is silent for a while. Then, he smirks, shaking his head.

“You stupid bitch.” He sneers, looking up at her. Y/N jumps when she sees his facial expression. The cold look is back on his face, but he looks even scarier this time. “Unfortunately for you, that was your only chance to ever get out of here.” He points a finger at her. “You’ve just signed your death sentence, darling.” Y/N’s blood runs cold.

“Wait...wait...please, Nick, listen, it’s just-“ She begins, but Nick shakes his head.

“Uh, uh, uh. No begging. It’s too late.” He moves as if to stand up, but then he stops, turning back to her. “Actually, no. I quite like it when you beg.” He grins. “Please, go on.”

“Nick, please. Just let me go. And we can go back to how it was before, with the touching and the kissing. You said you love me, so-” Nick chuckles.

“Oh god, you really are a stupid bitch, aren’t you? Isn’t it obvious? I don’t love you.” He states, and her stomach drops. “I was just saying that so you’d shut up. After finally having a taste of me, I thought that you’d be more willing to do what I said, but I guess I was wrong. You just had to throw it all away, didn’t you?” Y/N feels tears stinging in her eyes. He used her after all. How could he be so cruel? “And all because I tied you up? Darling, that’s me being nice. I can be much, much worse.” Y/N has a funny feeling that he’s not lying. She’s aware that tears are rolling down her cheeks by this point, and she tries to move her face so that Nick won’t see her crying. She doesn’t want him to have that satisfaction. Unfortunately, he notices immediately, and roughly grabs her face, turning it back to him. “Oh, dear.” He coos. “I’ve really got you wrapped around my little finger, don’t I?” He smirks.

“Nick, please! Please, just let me go. I-I won’t tell anyone, I swear. Please, I’m sorry, I-“ Nick cuts her off by gripping her face tighter. She tries her best to move away from him, but the rope cuts deeper into her wrist, and she lets out an anguished sob. Nick says nothing. “Nick! Please!” She screams at him. Nick just sits and looks at her, his face unchanged. “Someone!” She calls out. “Help me!”

“You can beg and plead all you’d like sweetheart, but it’s not going to work. This room is soundproofed.” He lets go of her face, pushing her back, and she slumps against the chair, panting in an attempt to calm herself down and stop crying. She looks over at Nick. He’s staring at her with a cocky grin on his face.

“You bastard.” She hisses. “I can’t believe I had any ounce of love in my body for you.”

“I know. Really, that was your first mistake.” Nick agrees. “Your second was poking your nose where it doesn’t belong.” He gestures to the ropes around her wrists and ankles. “And your third was saying no to freedom. But it’s alright.” He chuckles. “You’ll learn soon enough.” His phone beeps, and after he checks it, he gets up to straighten his suit jacket. “Well, this has been nice, but unfortunately, I have to go. I have to go and play the part of a dutiful CIA agent who’s about to report that his partner is missing in action, and presumed dead. Maybe I’ll tell some story about how I tried to save her life, but was just too late.” He sighs, putting on a fake concerned look. Bending down, he presses a kiss to her forehead, despite her trying to squirm away from him. He looks towards the other men in the room. “I’ll be back in a few hours. Deal with her while I’m gone.” They nod, and Nick crosses over to the door, ignoring her pleas for help. “Goodbye, Y/N.” He gives her one last smile. “I’ll see you in hell.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Taglist: @buckysboobs, @ccmarvelxx this is a taglist specifically for my Nick x reader works, so please let me know if you’d like to be added!

#nick fowler x reader #nick fowler x female reader #nick fowler #nick fowler x you #nick fowler x y/n #the 355 #the 355 spoilers

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