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traveler-at-heart · 5 months

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Finding Home - Part 2

Summary: This is a series imagining what it was life for Natasha after joining S.H.I.E.L.D. Warnings: Mentions of violence, PTSD, nightmares. Read Part 1 here. It was still dark. A quick glance at the clock on your nightstand told you it was indeed 2:30 am.

With a groan, you stood up from bed, walking into the living room, the penthouse pitch black.

“Jesus, Natasha!” you jumped as the lights revealed her sitting on the couch. Staring at the door. The redhead didn’t even flinch when you shouted. “Hey, is everything ok? Did you hear something?”

Now you felt bad for snapping at her like that. Surely, she had a good reason to be up.

“I don’t understand why they’re not here”

“Who?” you kneeled next to her, so you were eye level. With a pang of guilt, you noticed the bags under her eyes.

How long had this been going on?

“The KGB and Dreykov’s people. It’s only a matter of time. And when they come, I don’t… they can’t hurt you. I wouldn’t forgive myself”

“Nat” you said, squeezing her hand until she finally looked at you. Your hair was a mess, and your eyes struggled to focus on her face, but still, you pushed the words out.

“We are protecting you. SHIELD has eyes and ears everywhere. They won’t come for you, they won’t hurt you. Clint won’t let it happen, Fury won’t let it happen. And I certainly won’t let it happen”

There was a beat of silence, and then Natasha shook her head no.

“I’m not worth the risk”

“Yes you are. Clint thought so when he didn’t shoot that arrow. And I think so too. You’re worth it, and that’s not up for debate”

With a resigned sigh, you sat on the loveseat next to the couch and stared at the door.

“What are you doing?” Natasha asked.

“Well, if we’re taking turns watching the door, I’m next”

“Don’t be ridiculous, go to sleep”

The commanding tone made you smile. Slowly, but surely, Natasha had become more open and more herself in the way she interacted with others.

She wasn’t afraid to show she knew better than all of you.

“You go to sleep, Romanoff”

The redhead rolled her eyes, annnoyed at how amused you looked and then turned on the tv, browsing through channels, until she settled on a documentary about chimpanzees.

Fifteen minutes later, she was sleeping, gently snoring.

—

Back at the headquarters, Natasha was showing Maria and Fury some of the technical details of the widow bites she used.

You took the opportunity to pay a visit to Doctor Taylor.

“Agent” she greeted. “You know the rules, you gotta make an appointment”

“It won’t take long, Doc. It’s about Natasha” you scratched the back of your neck, feeling like you were snitching on her. “She’s not sleeping well. Keeps thinking the KGB is showing up any minute now to take her back”

“I would be surprised if she was able to sleep at all. I can prescribe something…”

“Yeah, she’s not gonna take it. Don’t ask me how, I just know it” you shrugged your shoulders. “This is more of a visit to ask for sugggestions. Is there any activity that might distract her?”

“Well, has she even been outside the Penthouse?” the woman asked, glancing at her notes, obviously aware of the answer to the question.

“No, unless we count this lovely government building” you looked down, feeling ashamed. Idiot. Keeping Natasha locked up, of course she’d feel agitated.

Doctor Taylor said your name, your attention snapping back to her.

“Natasha doesn’t know who she is; she dind’t have a childhood or a life. You could… give her choices. Help her figure out what she likes”

“Like her favorite ice cream flavor?”

“Sure, that’s simple. Start there”

“Alright” you straightened your stance, thinking about the day ahead. “Thanks, Doc”

“For what is worth” she said as you turned to open the door. “Natasha’s making progress. Slow but steady. And that’s thanks to you as well”

You nodded, smiling before leaving her office.

—

“It’s this way” Natasha pointed at a street, and you kept driving. “You missed the next exit”

“So now you know how to drive in New York City?” you said, ignoring her comments.

“Yes. I can drive motorcycles, cars, all kinds of helicopters…”

“Cool, congrats. You’re still not driving this car”

“Ass” she mumbled and you chuckled.

The drive was silent and as you found a place to park, Natasha looked around trying to find your destination.

“Ta-da” you sang and she turned back to you.

“Holey cream?” she read the sign above the door, in a very unamused tone.

“Build-your-own donut ice cream sandwich. Doesn’t that sound fun? There are tons of choices. Come on” you looped her arm with yours and practically dragged her inside.

You ordered first, hoping it would give Natasha enough time to decide what she wanted. However, as you got your donut, she was still staring at the ice cream flavors and toppings.

“Have you decided yet?” as she shook her head no, you offered your own donut. “Come on, try it. It’s homemade chocolate peanut better”

Rolling her eyes, she finally agreed and took a bite, modestly covering her mouth as she chewed.

“Too sweet. I think I’ll have the Java Guatemala”

“Holy holey” you muttered, thinking about the amount of caffeine she’d eat. “Strong flavor for a strong woman, am I right?”

“Is the sugar making you hyper?”

“Maybe” you opened the door for her, walking side by side as you took bites of your donuts.

You kept walking, glancing at the restaurants and shops littered on both sides of the street. As you read the menu of an Indian place, Natasha looked at the window of a clothing store.

“Oh, that leather jacket is beautiful” you admired, following her eyes. “Wanna go inside and try it on?”

“No”

“Come on” you ignored, pushing her.

The store clerk greeted you, while Natasha stood awkardly next to the jacket.

“Try it on” she rolled her eyes, but did as she was told. It looked perfect on her, but then again, Natasha managed to look stunning even on training clothes. “It suits you. Do you like it?”

“It’s fine” she shrugged her shoulders, the same way she did when you cooked something that she didn’t really like. As if what she thought wasn’t important.

“Natasha” you said and the woman looked at you. You raised your eyebrows and smiled, encouraging her to say what she really wanted.

“Yes, I like it a lot. But I don’t have any mo…”

“Miss? We’re taking this jacket”

Busy with paying the woman, you missed the way Natasha pulled the jacket close to her body, smiling as she saw her reflection in the mirror.

—

“Article 212, subsection B” Natasha asked.

It was a lovely day, so you were enyoing the sun on Central Park. She insisted on studying for her test, which was honestly overdoing it. Natasha memorized Shields rules in a week.

She was siting, the manual on her lap, while you were laying, your head close to her knees.

“Uh… something, something, paperwork” you answered, getting lost in the warm sun and the blanket where you and Natasha rested. “Are we still catching that movie later today?”

“Yes. And don’t change the subject” she gave you a small tap on the forehead and you frowned.

“Natasha, you memorized it weeks ago. And I already passed my test so…”

“I like it when I can hear you say it” Natasha interrupted you, her voice getting smaller. “I know all the words, yes. But hearing you say it makes it make sense. And I can also learn more about pronunciation. I still have my stupid accent”

“Ok” you nodded, sitting up to face her. You shook the leaves that got stuck in your hair and answered the question.

Natasha nodded when she was satisfied, flipping through the pages to continue.

“And for the record, your accent is not stupid. It’s cute” you said.

You were too busy looking away to hide your blush, so you missed how Natasha’s cheeks were red as well.

—

After that day in the park, you saved a time after dinner to read to Natasha. It was a way for her to improve what you already thought was a perfect English.

“A Scandal in Bohemia. Your very first Sherlock Holmes. Aren’t you excited?”

“Why that one?” she looked up at you. As usual, you were sitting at the end of the couch while she laid her head close to your lap, but never touching your knees.

“Because, you’re just like Irene Adler”

“Who?”

“Well, let me read and you’ll find out”

With every story about mystery, Natasha always commented on how the detectives approcahed the case. But this time, she remained quiet as you read the tale of Holmes and the only woman who outsmarted him.

Once you finished, you looked down to find Natasha sleeping, her usual frown replaced by a soft expression. The image of her head resting under her clasped hands brought you back to the words on the Red Room report.

The girls slept handcuffed to their beds so they wouldn’t escape.

If Dreykov wasn’t already dead, you’d gladly kill him yourself.

On impulse, your hand reached out to touch her own, while the other moved a strand of red hair out of her forehead.

What happened next was completely unexpected.

Natasha woke up instantly, throwing you from the couch and you landed on your front, out of air from the force of her movements. The woman climbed to your back and placed your neck in a headlock.

“Fuck, fuck, Nat, it’s ok. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I didn’t think, I’m sorry. It’s me. You’re safe” you said, trying to control your breathing and keeping your voice even.

You could feel Natasha’s heart beating wildly, her breath ragged against your ear.

It wasn’t her and she wasn’t trying to hurt you, that’s all you could think about as she kept you in place, with just enough pressure to make sure you didn’t move.

Little by little, she began to calm down and all of the sudden, let you go.

You coughed and moved forward, allowing yourself to breathe and feel a tiny bit of panic at what could have happened.

Not to you, but to Natasha.

“I’m…” she looked at her shaking hands, tears welling up. Natasha got up and walked to her room, slamming the door shut behind her.

“Nat. It’s ok. Natasha” you knocked several times, to no avail.

She stayed in her room for the rest of the night.

—

The following days were hell.

You went back to training alone. Natasha barely ate, let alone look at you whenever you had to go to SHIELD.

How could you have been so reckless? Of course she’d react that way, living her life in a perpetual state of fight or flight.

The silence took a toll on you. And worse, one day it made you snap.

During the drive to SHIELD, you asked Natasha if she was up for watching a movie at the cinema.

There was no answer, which was to be expected.

The hurt came after, when you caught her chatting with Clint as if everything was ok. Feeling as if someone had punched you in the gut, you looked away.

Maybe everything would be better if you left Natasha alone.

You walked up to them and dropped the keys to the car on the table.

“Here. Take the car”

“But, I thought…”

“I’m walking” was all you answered, turning around to leave the building.

You felt a combination of guilt and anger. You hated how you snapped at her, how your response to her trauma was to be vindictive and unreasonable.

But you also felt tired and way over your head. It wasn’t like you’d been an agent for that long.

Maybe someone more experienced would do better, like Barton.

You found a bar and stayed there for a couple of hours, drinking on an empty stomach. You came back when it was too cold to wander around the city.

The alcohol had hit you harder than you thought, because when you opened your eyes it was noon.

Natasha was long gone by then.

The sight of pancakes on the stove and a note with your name made you want to cry.

You didn’t even know what you were doing at SHIELD headquarters that morning, but still stepped out of the cab and into the building.

“Agent Y/N” Fury said as you walked down the hallway.

It was the last voice you wanted to hear, sporting a massive hangover and a guilt ridden heart.

“Director Fury” you turned around, trying to sound composed.

“There’s a mission”

Missions were at the bottom of your list right now.

“Ask Maria” you snapped.

You fucked up.

“I’m not asking”

“I can’t leave Natasha now”

“She’s joining the mission”

“I don’t think she’s ready” you panicked, imagining her getting hurt over your mistakes.

“It’s been three months. I have to know if she’s at least worth the groceries we’re buying for you in that fancy penthouse in the Upper East Side, Agent” the door behind your back opened. Fury looked at you one last time and then nodded. “That would be all”

As you turned around, Natasha’s eyes met yours.

“I didn’t know if I should wake you…”

“It’s ok. I’m sorry, I slept in. Thanks for the pancakes. I’ll go back to the penthouse… I don’t know why I came here today”

“Ok. I have to stay and go over some stuff” she explained and you nodded.

“See you later”

Back home (it wasn’t really home, was it?), you headed straight for the gym. Correction, bathroom, to throw up, still hungover and then to the gym.

Natasha joined you an hour later, waiting for you to finish punching out your frustrations against a boxing bag.

“I’m sorry” she said, after a particularly hard punch that made you grunt. “I understand if you asked Fury to leave”

“Leave… what?” you turned to her, confused. “And why are you saying you’re sorry?”

“You know why” she said, looking down.

“That wasn’t your fault. None of this is your fault, Natasha. I should have known better. I should have protected you. You should feel safe and I’m failing”

“You didn’t fail” she insisted. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I have. All my life, I’ve hurt and killed. But you know all that, you know it and you’re still not mad. Why aren’t you mad? Why don’t you think I’m a monster?” she said, looking anywhere but you.

“Did you have a choice?” you asked softly. She didn’t reply. “All I know is, the first time someone gave you a choice, you did the right thing”

“And I still hurt people”

“Yeah, our line of work isn’t really black and white, Natasha” you felt relieved when she finally looked at you, though her eyes were reddened. “If you had a choice now, what would you say? ”

“I think… I’d like to help people”

You smiled, not surprised by her answer. Of course she’d want to help. How you wished Natasha could see herself in the way you saw her.

“Good. Because Fury is eager to send us on a mission. Maybe this is a chance. You can save lives, do what’s right”

“I’d like that”

“You have a choice, know that. If you don’t feel ready, I will fight tooth and nail against Fury. Rip that eye patch if I have to”

Natasha smiled at that, and you could float with how relieved you felt. Maybe things could be better after all.

“I’ll start working on dinner” she offered after a beat of silence and you nodded.

Quietly, she exited the gym. The room felt empty again. And as much as you wanted to reach out to her, hold her hand or be closer, like you were before, you’d let her be.

Maybe one day, she’d meet you halfway

#natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x y/n

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wooataes · 6 months

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in case of emergency - ljh

Pairing: Lee Jihoon x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: angst, slight comfort, one swear

Summary: an emergency backpack makes Jihoon’s day a little brighter.

A/N: this is a story I’ve had in my docs for nearly 4 years so I repurposed it into a Jihoon oneshot to get rid of my writers block lmao enjoy!

- Tae 🩷🌸✨

Masterlist

“Jihoon-ah?” An unknown voice filled Jihoon’s ears as he held the phone to his ear.

“Hyung,” his soft voice croaked.

“You’re calling fairly early. It’s not even 2pm yet. How was your date?”

Jihoon was holding a single rose in his hand, taking long strides towards the train station with a defeated look on his face as he let his legs take him to where he needed to go. To say he was disappointed was an understatement. No, he was crushed, if he was completely honest. But he wouldn’t let Seungcheol know that.

Said date was supposed to start at 12pm sharp. He didn’t know what he did wrong to make her stand him up. He did everything correct, he believed. She had given him her number, he was never disrespectful in their texts, and he was a complete gentleman to her. Her texts from the night before lead him to believe she was eager to see him again too. After a simple suggestion by her for a coffee date to get to know each other, Jihoon was disappointed as he sat and waited in the booth for over an hour before deciding to give up with slumped shoulders and a bruised ego. To top it all off, Jihoon had to get caught in a fucking heavy downpour of rain without and umbrella as he made his next move.

What a fucking day.

“I’ll be there in a few hours. I’ll text you.” Jihoon sighed quietly as he placed his phone back into his pocket, stepping onto the train, oblivious to the state that he’s in.

With a frown, he paced past each cart, frown only deepening when he sees almost every one full. Of course it’s his luck that on the one stormy day that he gets rejected and drenched with rain, he’d end up on the full train with standing room left.

Finally, with a grateful sigh, he sees the last cart has only one occupant, chewing his lip as he stepped inside, opening the door a fraction to see you alone.

Your head stays down, long curls curtailing your face from Jihoon, not noticing his presence as your pencil moves carelessly along your sheet of paper.

“Excuse me,” his voice is soft and timid as he steps into the cart. “May I?” He gestures to the empty double seat across from you. “Everywhere else is full.”

Jimin is shocked as your head lifts, adjusting your glasses as a small gasp falls from your pink lips. It was only then Jihoon realized his appearance. His grey T-shirt was now sticking to him, leather jacket just as tight as his drenched hair flops hazardously over his eyes. He almost flinches as you jump up quickly, discarding your fluffy wool sweater and taking a hold of his wrists, gently placing him down in your seat and sitting your coat on his knee. Wordlessly, he watches as you grab a small pink backpack from the ground, opening it up and pulling out a soft while towel and passing it to him with a sweet smile as he just stares in confusion.

“You’re the first person I can use my emergency backpack on, congratulations.” You smiled softly as he just stares. “Umbrella, spare towels, bandages, even a packed lunch, everything you could think of in an emergency.”

Jihoon was in awe. You were the first person today who had lent a kind hand to him, and he could feel the overwhelming emotions bubble in his chest.

“Please, put that sweater on,” you insisted quietly. “You’ll catch pneumonia otherwise.”

“Oh god, I’m in your seat…” Jihoon stuttered quietly as he began to rise.

“It’s directly under the heating. You need to dry.” You waved your hand dismissively, a grin washing over your features. “Please, use whatever you need.” You placed the backpack by his feet, Jimin chewing on his lip.

Come on, Jihoon, he thought to himself as he slipped the jacket off his shoulders, only to be filled with the warmth of your sweater seconds later, you can’t let your emotions get the best of you. Especially in front of a cute girl. He was shocked at his own thoughts, having been rejected mere minutes ago by another girl.

Jihoon softly started to pat down his damp hair with the towel, giving you a small but grateful smile in the process. You simply smile back, curling up on the seats opposite him and fiddling with the pencil in your hand. Jihoon couldn’t help but take in your appearance as you distracted yourself with your book. Thick rimmed glasses framed your round face perfectly, your light eyes scanning over your book. Your long hair, now having curled from the rain, sat against your shoulders as your foot bounced to an unknown beat, a soft hum complimenting the silence through your lips quietly. You were now only wearing a plain white shirt with a black skirt with pastel pink hearts adorning the fabric, complimenting your whole look with your pastel pink converse. Jihoon felt his cheeks flush when he noticed the small rose tattooed ever so delicately against the crook of where your inner arm meets your elbow, feeling himself shift in his seat as he looks at the drenched and wilted rose on the empty seat beside him, only reminding him of his shitty day he had experienced.

“Hmm.. fate?” Your voice breaks the silence as Jihoon’s dark eyes met yours in confusion. You gestured to the rose beside him and the one embedded in your arm, a small smile forming on your lips. “The rose. Maybe it’s fate we met.” You joked with a soft giggle as he gave you a quiet smile. “Sorry,” You whispered after a beat. “You seem like you’ve had a rough day..” you trailed off.

“Oh, no,” Jihoon interrupted quickly, neatly folding the towel and placing it on the seat beside him. “It’s actually helping, joking around.” He smiled a bit brighter now. “Thank you, again.. for the,” he gestured to the backpack, “emergency things.” He let the warmth of your sweater take over him, finally settling into his seat. “It’s nice to see someone worried about others. It’s refreshing.”

“That’s what I aim for!” Your bright grin lights up the whole room, Jihoon’s soul included as he can’t help but chuckle to himself. People like you were hard to come by, he thought to himself. Not many girls are so sweet and caring to others. You seemed the type to be so trusting and welcoming to others. “You don’t mind if I hum, do you? I tend to sing or hum while I work..” your cheeks start to turn a soft shade of pink. “I can stay quiet if you’d like to be alone with your thoughts.”

“No,” Jihoon smiled as he let his head rest on the window. “That’s fine, I think it’d make me feel a bit better, if you don’t mind, of course.” He chuckled at your relieved smile adorning your face, nodding softly as you turned to a fresh page of your book, your eyes sharp as you began to work.

“So, what brings you on this serendipitous ride to Busan, good sir?” You hum, not lifting your head as you scribble on your page. “Sorry, I should’ve asked for your name.”

“Jihoon.” He responds quietly, letting the warmth run through his body as it heats him up. “Ah.. decided to travel back home and see a friend of mine who lives there.”

“That’s always exciting, though.” You smile. “It’s always good to catch up with friends.”

Jihoon sighs for a moment. You’re so optimistic. He wishes he was feeling as optimistic as you were after his failed date.

“Yeah, that is true.” He agrees, his eyes fluttering shut. He feels a little guilty, letting sleep take over him so quickly. He feels like he should make more conversation with the kind stranger, but you don’t seem to mind, going back to humming and drawing as he falls into a dreamless sleep.

When Jihoon stirs and opens his eyes, he’s surprised to hear the voice of the conductor over the speaker announce that they have pulled into Busan Station. He quickly begins to rise from his seat before frowning in confusion.

There’s a heavy weight against him. He looks down to see a small blanket draped on him, probably from the emergency backpack you had given him. At the thought of you, he turns to look at the now empty seat across from him where you once sat.

He is a bit disappointed, he wanted to at least know your name to thank you for your small act of kindness. He frowns as he sees a single folded piece of paper and a now dried out rose sitting on top. Jihoon reaches out to take the rose, recognizing it as the rose he had on him as he boarded the train. He turns it over in his fingers for a moment before unfolding the piece of paper. His eyes widen as he sees a roughly scribbled sketch of himself leaning against the window of the train, watching the scenery go by. It is near perfect, in his opinion, and he is in awe by your skill. Looking down in the bottom right hand corner, Jihoon sees a small note.

Jihoon,

I hope your day gets better. Keep the backpack, please.

Sorry if this was insanely creepy. :)

Y/N.

He raises his eyebrows at your neat handwriting, his fingertips tracing over your name quietly with a little smile before quickly stuffing the blanket and your sweater into the backpack still by his feet to get off the train at the sounding of the last calls resounding over the speaker.

“Hey.” Seungcheol smiled as he spots his friend making his way towards him. “How was the trip?”

“Ah, was fine.” Jihoon hums, holding the small pink backpack over his shoulder as his friend’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Why did you bring a pink bag with you?”

“Oh.” He laughs, awkwardly tucking his hair behind his ear. “‘S a long story.”

“Ohhhkay.” Seungcheol looks confused but shrugs when he sees the contentment on Jihoon’s face.

“Are we ready to go?”

“Almost.” Seungcheol keeps looking around at the countless people walking around the meeting area. “My cousin is here somewhere too. We gotta pick her up and take her back to mine. Is that alright?”

“Sure.” He agrees quickly. “I technically hijacked your weekend anyway.”

“Oppa!” A happy voice calls out as Seungcheol chuckles, opening out his arms as he readies himself.

“Hey, you!” He calls, laughing as he scoops his cousin into his arms, Jihoon staring with wide eyes.

“Jihoon-ah,” Seungcheol grins as he places his cousin on the ground. “This is-”

“Y/N.”

Permanent Taglist

@misshale21 @etaerealboy @kawennote09 @im-gemmy @devinkelsey19 @woozieeeee @loveless-lie @lixiel0ver @keymins @nen-nyy @lisaaaaamanobannn @i-dont-give-a-fok @miriamxsworld @jovialpartyneckoaf @jojowantstocry @roe-sinning @sarahisupset

Jihoon Taglist

@breakfastburritosattiffanys @mar-627 @milopenne @lanatheawesome @sunnynapp @jaeminsbuckethat @iarayara @opheliaas-stuff @hotricewoozi @beardedartgamingbakery

#seventeen angst #seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #lee jihoon x reader #woozi angst #woozi x reader #Lee Jihoon #Lee Jihoon fluff #lee jihoon angst #woozi fluff #seventeen fluff #seventeen woozi #seventeen au #woozi au #woozi scenarios #woozi imagines

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precious-little-scoundrel · 24 days

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|| What Took him so Long?

Summary: For a long time I’ve wanted a comfort fic dealing with Bucky’s arrival in camp and the assumption that once he got there, found his men and was relatively safe, he had a big adrenaline crash and needed a ton of loving care. So I wrote it into this world.

Note: I wrote so many of the boys for the first time this time and, well, it was fun but have mercy I’m new here

Continuity: This segment follows the events of First Night

Thanks: I owe dear @hogans-heroes a lot for helping me sort my screams about multiple different aspects of this fic and for how much depth they’ve added to my own love of these guys. Also to @ab4eva @blurredcolour and @crazymadpassionatelove

Warnings: usual universe warnings apply, 18+,additional graphic recounting of past violence and rape, descriptions of injuries from the same, angsty conversations and misplaced blame, the boys trying to give all six foot two inches of dead weight Egan a bath

“It’s Ida,” Brady’s nimble hand was deceptively strong when clutching Gale’s bicep and shaking him to wakefulness early in the morning, “she won’t fuckin’ respond but she’s bowin’ up ‘till I think her neck might snap.”

Well that got Gale tumbling out of his bunk, out from Maureen’s hold on his face, swollen thumb on his tongue. The hell had he been thinking last night? The raucous noise of his landing to his feet woke the others, Crank instantly startled at their hovering over Ida.

“What’s wrong?”

“Dunno,” Gale replied, staring down at Ida Brady who was suddenly quite still again, “when’d the jerks start?”

“About an hour ago. She didn’t move before that.” John reported and Gale was sure it was an accurate report as Brady’s eye bags suggested he’d not even slept a wink. “She’s cold but she kept seizing so I stopped holding her.”

Gale bit his lip and tried to recall how pale was deathly pale, or just, pale. He bent over her and placed his fingers against her pulse, relieved to find a strong heartbeat in her neck. Maybe too strong, but he wasn’t about to start picking apart mercies. He was trying to measure it to his watch’s third hand when she started again, neck truly so bowed beneath his fingers he understood the impression of it close to breaking. He took his hand away discomfited and by this time Crank had joined them to stare down at her but those eyelids didn’t even flutter.

“We shoulda called a doctor last night.” Crank fretted, “She wasn’t just tired, not after what she’s been through.”

What she had been through was not something that had been discussed really, and so, it had been happily tabled as a past occurrence when she came in last night and toppled into the bunk straight after showers. Now their silence on the topic seemed like the sort of lethal discretion that kills amongst “polite” societies.

“Well, let’s get one now.” Gale snapped, “Crank -find the one who sewed my cut. Vega, I think, Vargas, something like that. He’s here, in the south compound.”

“You got it major.”

As Ida quieted again, Gale tried his hand at her pulse once more. A few moments later she was writhing in her sleep again.

“Since she seizes everytime you touch her, how about ya stop touching her?” Demarco’s word of wisdom filtered in from his bunk.

Chastised, and with shared looks of alarm at their foolishness, Gale and Johnny retracted their hands to clasp behind their backs and waited in that mock parade rest until the doctor came in, dark expression on his face and a very deflated medical bag at his side.

“It’s one of the women?” he asked, shouldering between the two men.

“Yeah, our colonel.�� Gale supplied before relaying in brief terms the timeline of her stay here, her symptoms, her rather obvious injuries.

“We might be dealing with a concussion,” the Doc warned upon inspecting her face, “how’d she get these?” he asked about the swollen cheek and torn temple.

Gale turned to Maureen who still sat in her bunk, quiet, oddly quiet. “I saw her get punched once, I think it was on that side. But it wasn’t so bad, the rest happened when they took her away from us.”

Doc Vega was inspecting the rest of her as he pulled the covers down, her shirt flaps up, bruises and more bruises visible and -“She’s bleeding through her pants. Is this a cycle or-?” He turned to Kendeigh expectantly and she only shook her head, making Brady turn away with a wounded noise and walk a convict’s lap around the table, breath shuttering out in rough huffs, fists shoved into his pockets. Maureen wasn’t sure how anyone expected to get on top of such emotions, much less a bother. She was sure as soon as she had energy for it, she’d start making some Germans pay, it didn’t matter which, someone needed to pay.

“With assault this severe-“ Doc Vega’s face was more than eloquent regarding his horrified assessment. “-she should be in hospital. You know that right? That’s what this is, sexual battery, and like the word suggests, it's damaging, very damaging. Not to mention infection, fever- she belongs in hospital.”

The silence was heavy except for Brady and his off kilter laps.

“If they take her, I don’t trust them to guarantee her Combatant status.” Gale’s jaw worked overtime as he stared down at the body of his friend, “German hospital might be the best thing to ever happen to her or the worst when they discharge her. She’d not want me to let them take her out of here. Not after she fought so hard to get in.”

“Then by god,” the doctor exclaimed, “take her to the camp doctor, there must be some supplies. Antibiotics at the least, aspirin perhaps. Something for the swelling, inside and out. Camp doctor has supplies, how many times do I gotta tell you guys -I don’t! Take her to him.”

“No!” John Brady spoke up urgently only to immediately appear chagrined at his slip as Gale Cleven turned a very suspicious eye on him, “I mean, sir, if we take her, the German doctor will just transfer her to hospital. He can’t see how bad she is.”

That was a valid point, Cleven had to give it to him, although he noticed Hambone’s own suspicious, cud chewing, background shuffling observation of his pilot. Every time that doctor was brought up, Brady mildly suggested that they not go to him, without fail. His mentions regarding the guy being German and illusions to his methods being foreign were wearing thin. There was a miasma of myth about the doctor that no one could actually credit for a single source and Cleven hadn’t expected Brady, sensible, steady, laconic and measured Brady, to be the one to start spinning folklore in a place like this. He had next to no patience for it.

“Brady,” he decided to have at it, “you gonna tell me why everytime I bring up medical care in this camp you act like I’m suggesting suicide?”

“Sir,” Johnny’s gentle eyes grew wide and ever more guileless, “I told you, that man isn't much good.”

“Even a trash physician who has supplies is better than a good one without.” Doc Vega pointed out as he prepared to take his leave, “I’ve done everything with what I have. There simply isn’t anything at my disposal. Packages got held up and didn’t have everything accounted for.”

“He probably takes the stuff.” Brady muttured.

“So he’s the one to go to.” Gale snapped.

“He’s not touching her.” Ida’s brother replied.

Gale pinched his nose as he watched Vega leave them, the guy’s useless little bag of nothing swinging by his side, “By not being good - do you mean a poor physician? Be clear, Damnit.”

As if sensing a penultimate conflict, the room soon cleared of everyone save Maureen who was too invested by curiosity and a healthy dose of her own suspicion.

“Sir I’ve told you, he -he operates outside his purview.”

“Son? I can’t even pretend to understand what that means.” Gale’s patience grew more lethal as it rubbed thin, “That could mean he uses leeches or he abuses his patients.”

Brady’s eyes darted back and forth from Cleven’s face to the plain beamed ceiling as if he could find his answer there. Manic and with an odd glitter easily mistaken for tears. The kid probably needed to sleep, or maybe he needed to fess up about the doctor. Either way, Gale found the whole thing more and more unsettling but also, aggravating.

“Now are you gonna tell me which is it? Or are you alright with me withholding help from dying men because Captain Brady’s too intent on staying vague?”

“He’s just odd, sir.” Brady gave a defeated huff, eyes still watery, “It’s nothing bad, I-I never said not to send them, sir. He just can’t see Ida. He can’t.”

Gale was intently watching Brady swallow hard and wrack his brain for another respectful appeal when Crack came barreling back in, the eagerness in his step reserved for only one thing these dismal days: “They’re here! There’s a new batch, bringing them in the front now, quick, there’s not a long line!”

Brady was up and darting out the room before Gale could blink, uncharacteristically excusing himself before his superior had dismissed him and leaving Ida behind, still motionless in her bunk.

“Bucky could be with them!” Brady explained as he dashed out, same old hope repeated for over a month now and Gale wondered when the guy was going to crack from one too many hits to the morale.

“Brady!” Gale called after him a beat too late, wondering who was going to stay with Ida, but after catching Maureen’s quizzical eye, Gale too bolted and left the woman in his lover’s charge, tearing out of the combine to have a word with his young Captain, fleece and cover on for a little added dignity the camp pallor had no doubt stripped him of.

The scars, too.

Brady was at the fence by the time Gale caught up, his wiry frame slipping between the surging mass of POWs come to greet and heckle the newcomers. Gale had long ago found it a dismal scene and wasn’t fond of watching after it, but Crank and Brady were too intent, and some heartsick need drove Gale to find such excuses for why he, too, always managed to be at the scene when a new batch trudged in.

And what the cat brought in today made Gale forget about everything, everything else but that tall, shuffling, bloodied mess of a man he knew was his friend. And, characterically, despite appearing half dead, Egan was asking after Cleven, like the crackers after the cheese, damn the association risks.

“John Egan! Your two o’clock!”

Like a sunbeam splintering a thundercloud, Bucky’s battered face split open in a beaming smile the second he’d registered Cleven’s own. Gale couldn’t help the effusion of bittersweet gratification at the immediate resumption of the old ways, the old sweetness between them, the nearness of a good man to help brave this hell.

“What took you so long?” he jabbed, but his friend’s face told a story Buck wasn’t sure anyone left in Stalag Luft III had the stamina to hear.

And just like that, Egan was shuffled past and into processing and it would be ages before he saw him again. When Gale turned his back and worked his way through the crowd, Brady was lingering in one of the clearings, hands clasped and a rote twirl of thumbs matching the catatonically grateful prayers on his imperceptibly moving lips. Or Gale sure hoped they were prayers, it was that or Johnny having finally cracked.

“You were right.” He gave the kid a pat on the shoulder, smiling gently at him as he seemed to come out of his relieved fog, eyes too big in that lean face and dark circles making reflective ponds below, “You were right, you said he’d make it.”

“I hoped he would.” Johnny didn’t sound like he was expecting to cash in those prayers so soon.

“I’m going to that doctor.” Gale informed him, leveling him a strong look, “I think we should get a little list for the other girls. Play it off, could be for anyone. Penicillin, sulfa, that sorta thing. Does that sorta thing cure…their sorta thing?” Cleven admittedly obfuscated towards the end, not really expecting John Brady to know what cured venereal diseases but more hoping for an opinion of solidarity, like one does when ordering a risky plate off the menu.

Major Cleven never learned whether Captain Brady thought penicillin would work or not, there was a commotion outside the main center compound’s administrative building, and then the sudden appearance of guards dragging between them a slumped figure.

A dragged body was bad in most situations, at the prison camp it was cause for more than a little ire and panic. When Gale recognized the stature of their burden, the familiar span of the shoulders, the dark mop of curls hung low, his own brisk walk turned into a full on sprint across the muddy yard, Brady at his heels full of the same enlightenment.

“The hell did you do to him?” Cleven bellowed at the reasonably perturbed guards who were already mounting a defense of their blamelessness for Egan’s unconscious state.

“Nothing!” the more fluent of the two protested, “He vas being processed, yes? And he falls over, like zat. Nothing. Did nothing. Check him, he is—“ the guard made a motion to his face signifying the battlement Gale had already noticed as Egan trudged in. Back when Egan was awake and on his own two feet. “We? Nothing!”

Gale took Egan from them like a mother being handed their child, full frontal weight of his large friend propped against him and he succeeded at little more than keeping them both from hitting the mud. He was already weaker than when he first got there and the proof was here in the staggering weight of a man he used to hold his own against. Crank and Johnny and Demarco were beside him before he can even look for assistance, expressions of compassion and anger at Egan’s plight all melding into a series of disbelieving grunts as they heaved him up between them, carrying his dead weight like a feedsack. Gale and Brady take under his arms, Crank and Benny his legs. Gale studied the completely bashed face of his friend, a seething deduction brewing as to how he came to be in such a state.

“The showers.” he directed his men as they stalled midway in the yard after having got the weight of him hoisted.

They created a stir as they went, the dire oddity of the scene drawing attention as they shuffled through camp.

“Holy shit, is that Egan?” Talullah Smith came to a sudden halt in their path.

“Move!” Gale told her. “Or get the door.”

“He even alive?” Murphy was with her, no doubt obeying Cleven’s order for no woman to be unattended around camp, and he scrambled alongside to help as they mounted the steps and passed through the door Smith held until they were in the dank and echoing, poorly tiled room. There were a few other men in here, washing clothes and dabbing at their underarms. The showers themselves were not on today, hadn’t been for days, and Gale knew the large trough sinks down the middle of the room were their best bet for a triage and an initial wash.

“Somebody get his boots off, come on.”

It was horrible, grunting, grappling work trying to keep Egan’s dead weight up as they tugged off encrusted articles of clothing one after another, cringing at the bruises each grip and pull necessarily aggravated.

“Sorry Bucky.” Demarco apologized repeatedly to the insensible man as he adjusted his grip on his ribs for Brady to pull the slate gray button up off him.

“Smith, you can go.” Cleven noticed her lingering by the door, consternation written all over her face at Egan’s state, Murphy shadowing her. It wasn’t suitable for a woman to remain for the rest of it, whatever skill she had at setting fingers was a little below the pay grade of John Egan’s injuries. “You and Murph, can go get Doc Vega. Again.”

He sent Brady a look but the boy was too busy to notice, helping pull a very discolored arm out of a Bucky’s standard issue, fleece-less jacket. “What’d the looney do with his sheepskin?” he asked.

“Gave it to, Kidd.” Brady grunted, “Right before Munster. Said you didn’t like it.”

I’ll be damned: no lucky deuce and no lucky jacket and no fighter escorts, how were they supposed to manage to stay in the sky with recklessness like that? “You sentimental sunnuvabitch,” he hissed mournfully at his friend’s flopping head as they got him stripped and the full extent of his bruises came in view, “-supposed to be the last ones up.”

If anyone else understood what he meant in his mournful rage, they didn’t heed it, and if they didn’t understand they also did not press him for his meaning.

“Let’s get him up.”

Collectively they grabbed a limb apiece again and hoisted Bucky, groaning themselves under the bare weight of him.

“What did his mother feed him?” Benny protested as they staggered, and dumped him onto the longest of the troughs, getting a weak moan of protest from their specimen at the cold and hard surface.

“Major?” Crank begged hopefully of his closed eyes as Gale worked at the pump on the faucet, the gurgle of chilled water preceding the blast.

“I’m gonna use this, lad.” Brady was informing one of the armpit washing boys down the way, swiping their washcloth with kind presumption and returning to squeeze it out under Cleven’s growing steam.

Gently as he had his sister’s scalp, Brady began to use the wet cloth to scrub and wipe at the blood dried in an ominous swirl around Bucky’s eye as Gale continued to pump.

“He’s gonna catch chill.” Demarco warned.

“Haul some buckets?” Gale asked if they were willing, the kitchen combine was not so far away with fires and tin pails.

“We’ll be back.” Benny agreed.

“Brady, go with him.” Cleven unceremoniously pried the washcloth from the boy’s hand; silent weeping was an art Gale had perfected as a child but he’d not seen it in a grown man until today, “Go.”

While they were gone Gale did his best to keep the chilled water somewhat diverted, with Crank’s help he even managed to roll Bucky on his side and probe at his blackened ribs. As is, Bucky began to shiver and when Doc Vega got there; he was none too gentle in his hurried and angry assessment.

“Fractured ribs.” he rubbed the washcloth across his face like he was sanding the deck back home, “Possible fractured orbit. Eye socket, Cleven, looks busted. Just keep him propped, hope his eye doesn’t fall back into his skull.” Gale stared back at him unblinking, there was only ever one question these days and after a beat Doc Vega answered it, “And no, don’t have anything for it.”

Brady and DeMarco had returned with their now tepid water in time to hear this. “Should we wash him?” Benny gestured hopelessly.

“Yeah, he’ll probably sleep it off. If we’re lucky. Get him clean, get him warm.”

Gale began to pump anew and Brady gently tipped his warm bucket over Egan’s clotted curls, running his fingers through to disentangle the crusted snarls. Unfortunately their irrepressible patient took the kindness for a waterboarding and began to thrash, sending a shower of cold droplets over his caregivers.

“Buck?” a wrecked voice, punctuated by chattering teeth, stalled them all. “I saw Buck, where’s Buck, I found Buck, wh-“

“Yeah, yeah Bucky, it’s me.” Gale dropped his task and crouched over him, shivering himself as the sink ledge dampened the front of his own clothes.

“Buck!” Egan begged again, arms reaching out until Gale found himself all but tipped into the sink himself, arms wound around Egan’s pale shoulders with their blooming blue mottle, “M’so goddamn cold, Buck.”

“I know, I know, I’ve got ya. I swear, I’ve got ya.” Gale squeezed him tighter, “Almost over. Gettin’ you freshened up. We’ve got ladies here now.” he joked.

John’s head rolled listlessly on Gale’s forearm and his sharp blue eyes flitted across the washroom ceiling until he caught sight of someone else dear hovering over him with another pail, “Brady, what’re you cryin’ for?” he croaked.

“You.” the kid didn’t miss a beat. “So sorry Bucky, I’m so sorry.

“Hey,” Bucky’s voice strengthened with vehemence, “s’not your fault. None of it.”

“Yeah,” Gale agreed, gently peeling a flake of blood off his ear, “that plane was going down anyway without your lucky jacket.”

Bucky somehow had the stamina and the facial expertise to look sheepish at that despite his disfigurement. “Why'd you guys put me in the sink? Animals! Get me out, too goddamn cold, get me out. Gale! Get me out.”

“Ok, ok, shh, ok.”

There was a compassionate scramble to help Bucky sit up and swing his legs over the side, the groaning and swaying of the Major a hardly promising sign for the excursion he seemed intent to make. Suddenly they were helping to prop him on his feet again, and while he was no longer the dead, unconscious weight of before, he was now six feet something of bare, slippery flesh vibrating between them all in a terrible chill. Murphy and Smith had brought blankets along with the Doc, and gratifyingly someone from their combine had proffered a t-shirt and fresh skivvies.

Crank and Brady swayed dangerously with his weight on their shoulders as Gale knelt down and made his shaking legs step into them. Bucky’s own hand arrested him standing up by placing a clumsy hand on his cheek.

“Where’d you get these?” he was thumbing at those scars Gale hadn’t managed to live down.

“Flack.” Gale maintaIned as he rose to his feet, “What the hell happened to you?“

Bucky gave him his old lopsided grin, “War, Buck.”

“Too much of this kind of war lately.” Crank pointed out unamused, wounds were one thing but what was with the abuse? It didn’t seem to stay away, even from the strongest or most esteemed of their number.

Bucky’s brow ticked in curiosity at the allusion to others but he was too drained to keep his thoughts ordered, “Marched us through a town, RAF had just paid a call. Townspeople didn’t exactly come out with flowers.”

“Holy shit.” Benny sucked his teeth in a grimace, noticing how the other men down the way paused their chores to listen in.

“They attacked you?” Cleven’s tone left little room for questioning.

Bucky gave them a wincing little smile, tilting his head in a shrug, “Yeah, guards just let them at us. I’m the only one who made it.”

“What?” Came up in a chorus, his doleful audience suddenly animated, “You mean they killed the rest?”

“One got knifed,” Bucky stared down at Brady’s work on lacing his boots, skivvies and boots, now he looked like all the other clowns here, “the others - guess they beat them, too. I heard shots. Woke up in a cart on the way to a nice, quiet little spot in the woods.”

“Jesus Christ:” Crank uttered, “Jesus Christ.”

“I’ll be ok.” Bucky muttered, scuffing his boots to see how heavy they felt, his limbs wouldn’t stop shivering and he had a sick feeling it wasn’t from cold alone.

“Yeah, you will.” Cleven’s pained eyes ordered him sternly and to swipe away that horrid crease between his brows, Egan would do anything.

“Yeah.” he agreed.

“Let’s get you a bunk.” Brady prodded, slipping back under one of his armpits, wiry shoulders having more strength in them than Bucky credited, “We’ve got a nice little sick ward going.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah; and no medical supplies.”

“Great.”

“Yeah, it’s a real well oiled machine they got here.” Benny snarked as the lot of them kept pace with Egan’s limps across to their combine -it wasn’t under discussion where he’d bunk, he would be in with them.

“What’d you name the place?” Egan asked dismally at the threshold of their combine.

“We didn’t.” Gale admitted his unimaginative oversight for the second time in twenty four hours on these same steps.

“No?” Egan slapped at the boring raw lumber and sniffed, “You let Maureen in billet in here?” he asked suddenly.

“Y-yeah.” Gale was wary and his defense at the ready, “All the women who’ve arrived so far are in this one, so we can help guard them. Yes, Maureen’s in with us.”

It was better just to say it, to head off the teasing and the suggestions and the disorder right away. Cleven smiled back at Bucky confidently, waiting for this friend to get a move on over the threshold.

“Huh, ok,” Egan made a funny little face; “then I christen you,” he went on addressing the combine itself, clearing his throat loudly to collect before spitting on the doorframe above Benny’s disgusted head, “Love Shack Number Nine.”

“Just -get your ass inside.” Gale shoved at him between his shoulders and Bucky -with Brady still tucked dutifully under a wing- entered his new home.

Gale gave him a preliminary roster of inmates in each barrack, “We’re down near the end.” and by the time they got to their own room Crank had to help support Bucky’s other side, the brief surge of energy the cold water and friendly faces had given him waning fast.

“Just so goddamn hard to breathe.” He tried to explain, wincing at the pull of his arms as they clumsily shouldered into their room.

It was empty except for Ida in her bunk and Maureen beside her who stood up fast as a lightning bolt at the sight of Egan. “Jumping Jehoshaphat, what happened to you?” She rushed him but pulled back before her usual greeting of hugs to survey the damage, suspecting a squeeze might be too cruel even by Egan’s standards.

“I’m ok, Candy.” he assured, smooth as butter as he reached for her and ran busted knuckles over the curl of her hair, “God you’re a sight for sore eyes after all these ugly bastards.”

“Really though, what happened?” she shied away from his pacifying touches, glaring at the others to start spilling the beans.

“They tried to lynch him.” Gale saw there was nothing for, she’d wheedle it out at some point and after what she’d seemingly endured, what exactly was he shielding her from? “Killed everyone else with him.”

Maureen’s worried eyes dulled sadly at this and she proceeded to hug herself, hands carefully tucked into her armpits, “Gosh, Bucky.” she mumbled.

“Hey, said I’m alright, didn’t I?” Bucky coaxed, swaying towards Maureen and laying a heavy hand on her small shoulder. It tipped him too far forward and he had to clutch at and brace himself on the bunk slat behind her head. Suddenly he was peering over her shoulder and instead of empty sheets as he expected in the lowest bunk, he found the bruised face of a superior he didn’t know had even been shot down. “What the hell happened to her?”

At the silence that followed this very simple question, Bucky swung his head round to stare the men down. It made the world rock, window blurring into the room in a nauseating sheet of white and Buck had too many eyes and all of them sad and Crank hadn’t even a face but a blob and his vision was shot to shit with spots but as no one said a word, he repeated his question in a yell that surprised even himself, “What happened to her?”

“The Gestapo kept taking them from the Dulag.” Brady’s voice was soft and thin in his ringing ears, like a child explaining the fate of a broken toy, “They even took them to a camp. A women’s prison camp.”

“Am I missing the part where any of that promises a face like that?” Bucky demanded, trying to get the goddamn window to stop whiting out his vision.

Gale’s voice was on his other side, the side without the window, he wanted to look at him but he was afraid to move his head again and for the spots to get large and everything go black one more time. “Long time before they’d recognize them as combatants, Bucky,” Gale laid a preemptively calming hand on Egan’s arm, “SS knocked them around bad.”

That’s all Gale really knew of it. Most of it had been gotten out of Smith who seemed most fit and most angry over it all. The others were skittish or tired.

“Knocked them around.” Bucky repeated bitterly, disbelieving Cleven’s moderate retelling, “Who’s them? Who else?”

“We’ve got a little over a dozen of the girls here.” Gale replied, “Brought them in a group, some downed weeks before others. Held them while figuring out what to do before they brought them here.”

“What to do?” Bucky knew he was back to yelling and the spots were getting excited from it, “Treat them like officers being a little too much to ask?”

“Like they treated you?” Demarco weighed in, if only to take the heat off his co-pilot, “Like they treated Buck?” -or maybe not.

“The fuck did they do to him?” Bucky really did try to turn his head this time and he was blindly groping for Cleven’s soft cheeks even as the spots took over his vision and his knees began to buckle. Gale grabbed him on the way down with Candy’s help, but Egan heard her exclamation of pain from it.

Steadied, with his hands back on the bunk slat, Bucky willed away the spots and stared down at Kendeigh’s supportive hands on his waist -or what shoulda been hands. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen an uglier set of paws.

“Were you with her?” he asked, gravelly and not to be ignored.

“Most of the time.” Maureen whispered back and if Gale could have cleared the room for her he would’ve.

“Then what the hell happened to her?” Bucky summoned the last bit of himself and stared down the auburn beauty of his erstwhile drinking buddy, “No really Kendeigh, answer me. I’m your superior, you don’t have recourse, you answer to me. What’re you gonna do, huh? Ask your fairy godmother colonel if you can ignore me? Huh? ‘Hey ida got a sec, Ida?’ No? Looks like her office is closed. Fucking talk to me, Candy. Start with those hands. What happened?”

“Someone stood on them.” -if Gale had to hear Maureen repeat it one more time in that monotone way he was going to start chewing through his cheek.

“Why?” Bucky always had such simple questions, it was one of his wisdoms and Maureen hated it right now, her eyes flashing and her face reddening as she ducked away from the stare of friends.

“So I’d stop fighting him.” The statement was hardly legible, her voice had gone so wispy.

“He, this ‘he’ -he knew you were an Officer?” Gale hadn’t thought to ask that, and he’d thought of so many things to ask that never made it out his throat, but Bucky did. “An army Air Force combatant?”

Maureen swallowed hard before throwing her head back, neck taut and nose flaring -Gale didn’t think he’d ever seen her more magnificent. “He knocked my cap off before it.” she answered at last, a cold hard meeting of blue eyes and Bucky stared her down, “And he laughed at the engraving on my belt buckle when he undid my pants.” There was dead silence for a beat before she went on, “They tore the wing patches off Ida’s shirt, you can see the holes there, see? Johnny’s not fixed them yet.”

Bucky slumped to a seat on Ida’s bunk, a shaky hand extending to push down the blanket and expose her shoulder, and there was a jagged tear in the standard issue, sure enough. “What’s Johnny been fixing?” he asked, voice hollow as he thumbed at Ida’s mottled skin, she was white as a ghost beneath the blue discoloration. Bucky wondered if he looked half as rough.

Johnny was then in a squat beside him, rummaging under the bunk before pulling out a pair of trousers. He tossed them into Bucky’s lap, wordlessly. Drab olive, Brady’s tidy repairs obvious due to the clashing thread, and also blood -so much goddamn blood down the inseams, meticulously scrubbed out but stained all the same and woven together by the white stitches. “You bastards let him do this?” Bucky asked the men incredulously, rage beginning to boil over and it didn’t have a single source and it certainly had no rightful outlet, “None of you can handle a fuckin’ needle? No? No, go on then, let a brother sew up this shit, let him get to think long and hard about what each fuckin’ rip means for his sister! You goddamn cowards -you haven’t even asked them! You haven’t talked about it with the girls, have you?”

“Bucky, Bucky come on now,” Gale tried reasoning with him, “they just got in. So did you. Let’s, let’s take it easy, save our mad for the ones who deserve it.”

“Oh, oh you don’t think that’s us then, Major Cleven?” Egan scoffed, “Because we didn’t do it, isn’t our fault at all?”

“It’s not!” Crank insisted behind Gale’s back, “Gonna blame Buck for your ribs, too?”

That defeated him. Bucky’s fury visibly dimmed in his eyes and Gale would have almost preferred the insulting rage over the dead helplessness that followed, it was too reminiscent of his own. “They’re safe, you’re safe.” he summarized gruffly, “Doc says sleep for both you and her.”

“Sleep.” Bucky mumbled as he looked back to Ida, trying to imagine with masochistic singleness of mind the sort of men who’d enjoy picking a strong woman like her apart -he could bring them to mind too easily. “Sure, just…sleep it off.”

“I don’t want her going to the doctor.” John Brady insisted once more like this had never been argued before in this very room.

“He no good?” was all Bucky asked.

“No sir.” Brady was emphatic and relieved to be taken at vaguest value.

“Brady’s the only one to say that,” Cleven butted in, “and he won’t specify.” Gale may have shot a glare at Ida’s brother, Bucky’s own predicament causing a double issue. “You need one, she needs one, too.”

“I-I trust my little Fox.” Bucky disagreed, although it was less impressive by both the use of a nickname and the slurring stumble that occurred right after as he attempted to get up from the bunk and pat Brady’s cheek. This small movement caused such disturbance in his fragile equilibrium that he would have nearly toppled if Cleven and Kendeigh hadn’t been at his side to catch him. “Goddamn! Goddamn, I’m dizzy as hell.” he repeated, “And cold. I don’t want a doctor, I want a blanket. And a nap.”

“Just what the doctor ordered.” Gale repeated dryly with a ghost of a grin that would have normally riled Bucky into smushing it between his fingers. He was too far away for that and Bucky was too dizzy to reach.

“M’gonna sleep for a week.” He announced.

“They’ll be in here for roll if you don’t show.” Gale begged.

“Good luck to them, moving me.” Bucky grumbled and shook a boot across the room before Brady knelt and helped with the other one. How many times had the sweet kid been shoeing him today? He should start calling him mom.

“They’ll come for her too, if she misses again.” Gale pushed, “A guard came and checked to make sure she was alive this morning.”

“They’ll just take her to the doctor.” Brady repeated hopelessly.

“No they won’t.” Bucky assured him, already fully convinced of two things Gale very much held in suspicion, and he’d been here under half an hour, “They won’t.” he repeated and, before anyone could fully credit their eyes, he appeared to use his last gasp of strength and dexterity to roll Ida Brady, none too gently, further in her bunk toward the wall before climbing in after her and sagging into the meager bedding.

“John!” Cleven had too many objections to itemize at present and all of them were tidily conveyed by use of his Christian name.

“They can’t take her from us like this, Buck.” Bucky was slurring worse than ever, now obstructed by a pillowcase and Ida’s torn head.

“She doesn’t wanna be touched.” Gale hissed urgently, side eyeing Demarco who seemed beyond caution and was now viewing this as analytically as a laboratory experiment.

“S’ok.” Bucky mumbled, “Ida always knows me.”

Gale and Johnny exchanged helpless looks, with Gale choosing to flavor his own with no small amount of accusation towards the younger man. But then, both occupants of the bunk became -and stayed- still, and no seizing episodes followed the heavy burden of Bucky’s arm over Ida’s ribs. So, with shrugs and outstretched hands of mere mortal impotency, they resigned themselves to life with Bucky in Love Shack Number Nine.

“I forgot how loud he could get.” Crank’s mutter broke the silence.

“We should get some salve at least.” Demarco observed with a nod to Bukcy’s face and Kendeigh, who had been oddly quiet and sat with legs swinging on her bunk, echoed in agreement.

“I thought maybe penicillin, too.” Gale asked the room at large.

“Why not ask for the keys to the front gate while we’re at it?” Crank snarked, “That krout sawbones never gave me shit for Murphy’s cuts, hasn’t even tended Hambone since he got out of hospital.”

“Hambone hasn’t gone to him because Brady has scared him off.” Cleven retorted, “Any of you have a better idea?”

“I could try.” Maureen spoke up, “He might -respond?- if a woman asked.”

“No.” Cleven shut that down with a sharp cut of his hand through the air, “No way in hell.”

“I’ll go sir.“ Brady’s soft assurance broke the tenseness, Gale watched the boy stoically as he rose from his place by Ida’s -and now Egan’s- bunk, and grabbed his pipe off the table, “Salve and penicillin?” he confirmed, face cocked shyly back at Cleven once more from the doorway.

“Salve and penicillin.” Cleven affirmed, “And Brady-“ he halted the boy, “-you sure about this?”

“He knows me.” Brady’s eyebrows drew together, a sudden strong expression on his face, nonplussed in a way that made Cleven feel like he was the one slow in the head, “Fixed the shoulder.” he reminded, gesticulating to the joint that had been dislocated by a poor parachute landing, no doubt caused by arguing too long and close to the ground in a spiraling plane with Major Egan. “I’ll get you the stuff, sir.”

Brady shoved his pipe in his mouth and dug his hands into his coat pockets as he walked down the drafty hallway. Conversations from the various rooms drifted to his ear, odd still to hear the high tones of female chatter amongst them. He found himself rolling his last bit of tobacco round and round in his pocket as he neared the door, he’d been saving it for a real doozy of a day; for some catastrophe that needed nicotine to wash it down, or else a holiday that deserved the special exception. Ramming his once hurt shoulder into the door to open it, Brady decided today would have to be significant enough.

The day he got salve and penicillin.

“You just chew on that thing instead of smoke it now?” The laconic humor of his bombardier startled him mid shiver, it wasn’t even that cold outside he just felt poorly and everything was getting real cold and awful as he stood rooted to their steps and eyeing the main compound.

“No, I was gettin’ ready to pack it.” He answered Hamilton, leveling him a scrutinizing look over the pipe in question, “How’ve you been keepin’ occupied?”

“This and that.” Hambone shrugged, gold teeth still glinting as he assessed Brady. “Where you headed?”

“Who says I’m headed anyplace?”

“Word is Egan’s here and half dead.” Hambone scratched at his scar, the rough sutures too late in being taken out and now causing irritation, Brady almost felt guilty for that. “And now you're out here eyeing the Pill Hut. I’d say you’re going to that doctor.”

Hambone never really got enough credit for his smarts, and Brady wished he’d stop using them only when it concerned things Johnny was already having enough trouble psyching himself up for -like radioing the tower to admit they were lost or visiting this freak in a white coat.

“They need some stuff.” He conceded.

“Gonna waste good baccy on it?” Hambone scoffed again, “Come on, I feel like a walk. Haven’t seen inside the place anyway, all your ghost stories were too spooky.” Hambone was mocking him, but he was also beginning to walk towards the hut with the plain expectation of accompanying Brady.

“Hambone-“

“With all due respect, just shut it, Captain.” Hambone gave him a look, and it was the first one today that made Brady feel seen without feeling all of two inches tall, “If I have to rub these stitches on those rough pillows one more night I’m gonna claw my face back open.”

Brady didn’t doubt he would, so in a spooked and complacent mood, pilot followed grinning bombardier down the muddy lanes to the doctor’s shack.

💋 Hope you enjoyed! Feedback is a writer’s lifeblood, please feel free to scream in comments or the inbox, I love it and wanna hear it all. Trust me, nothing is “too dumb”. Your thoughts mean the world to me.

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#mota fanfic #masters of the air fic #mota fic #masters of the air #mota #gale cleven #John Egan #john brady #hambone hamilton #charles cruikshank #benny demarco #those who can #integrated au #gale cleven x oc #Gale x Maureen #mota oc

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beatleszeppelin · 19 days

Text

Kidnapped with Bucky

Chapter 1: Wet Hot Shower

Summary: You read the title, you know what this is about, this chapter however starts with a very frustrated Bucky, needing a shower.

Warnings/Includes: Crying, lots of Bucky crying in the shower, worries about self harm, (barely mentioned), mentions of burns. Tell me if you catch any more

Word count: 1300

A/N: This is only the first chapter, I've got more in the docs... Reader is female, relationship can be read as platonic or otherwise.

Steve droned on about his plan, his grand idea to stop the next evil. Everyone listened intently, sitting around the table, drinking and talking.

Bucky leaned all the way back in his chair, squeezing a stress ball in his human hand. “And what should I be doing while you “infiltrate from the air”?” He used air quotes with his unoccupied hand.

“Well, Buck, I was thinking you could take this one off, stay home and rest a bit.” Steve’s voice got high, “You’ve been looking a bit tired recently.”

He tipped his chair forward and leaned in close, “I am, but I can help.”

“Look, pal, I’m not saying you’re not an asset to this team, but…” he stopped himself.

“An asset?” Bucky scoffed, stood, and slammed his open metal palm into the chair. It smashed into the wall, leaving a dent in the shape of the chair’s corner. A hand came up and forked through his long hair. Everyone stared as he walked out of the room, shaking his head and flexing his jaw.

Stark was the first to speak, “I think baby’s gonna need a nap.”

Reader shot a look at Steve; he frowned and then dropped his head onto his folded arms.

“I think that’s a good place to call it,” Bruce got up and pushed in his chair.

The group dispersed into various floors and rooms of the tower; Steve put on his headphones and swayed his head to the music, still in his chair.

Reader went to her room to work on her project. She heard the water start through the next door. Bucky was the only other one with a room on this floor, so it was most likely him taking his scolding punishment shower.

She peeked out, steam clouded from the edges of the door, where Steve sat one ear out of his headphones listening.

“It bad?” She asked.

He nodded slowly.

“I don’t want him to get hurt…” Steve drew his eyes away from the ground and up to Reader, “I don’t want him to hurt himself.”

After Bucky left the meeting, he felt like punching something. Steve would be a good choice, but it would only serve as proof that he can’t do this. He walked down the hall, past the bathroom, into his room. Grabbing the navy pillow off his bed, with one solid fist, clenched so hard he shook. He silently screamed.

“Fuck,” he whispered. Bucky threw his pillow back to the head of his bed. His shoulders sank. He grabbed some clothes off the end of the bed and took them to the bathroom.

Bucky closed the bathroom door quietly. He stands with his hand on the light switch for a while before flicking them off. He pulls off his jacket, and drops it in front of the door, to cover any light coming in/ to protect him from people finding out he is in the dark.

He can barely see himself in the mirror, but he can see the outline of his face and the bruise across his cheek. His eyes feel hot, and tears sting themselves into vision. He silently screams, digging his nails into his legs.

“I can’t do anything,” he says in such a quiet whisper he thinks he just mouths it to himself in the mirror. Bucky prays no one can hear him, not Steve with his super hearing, or any of Tony’s little robot camera listening things. But it does almost hurt to be quiet.

He takes a deep breath with an open mouth and a clenched jaw, and tears slowly fall.

He turns on the shower to the hottest he can touch. Hydra used to do this, burn him. The showers here don’t get nearly as hot; it only makes his skin numb, but doesn’t sting like it used to.

His pants dropped, belt still weaved in. Then his shirt gets pulled off over his head. Bucky holds his shirt in his hands for a beat before shoving his face into it and screaming. The splashing of the water and the muffling of the shirt contained the broken scream. He drops the shirt and gets into the shower.

He cries. His chest turns red from the water, and his face is wet and sticky. His long hair clings to his face and jaw and sticks up in different directions, frizzy from the steam that slowly fills the dark room.

His eyes squint shut, and he uncontrollably sobs. Muscles flex in the hot water, and all his fresh cuts burn.

He doesn’t notice a slight moving glow of light from the hall outside refract off of the steam, showing how heavy the air has become. Glistening drips run down the mirror’s face.

A knock on the door startles him sober from his crying.

Steve leaned his head back against the wall, “he’s crying, I can hear it.”

“He’s allowed to…” Reader defended, “If you put your headphones on you, won’t be able to hear it.”

“I need to make sure he’s okay, like he’s always done for me.”

They hear the muffled scream, and Steve’s lip quivers. He looks at Reader with big doe eyes, full of anguish.

“Okay, give him a minute to cool down. If he’s in there, crying, then you can hear he’s alright. Yeah?” He nods.

They sit outside the door; minutes pass, and Reader and Steve play jacks. Steve has won twice, but Reader snagged the last win because he got too cocky. He listens to his headphones, rocking back and forth to the music.

After three or four more games, Steve starts listening again. “It’s been a while, right?” He asks.

“I guess, but I take long showers too.” Reader says, bouncing the ball against the opposing wall in the hallway.

“You’re right, but you don’t sound like this.”

“Like what?”

He took his headphones off, and leaned his head back, “He hasn’t stopped yet.” Steve checked the time, “38 minutes straight.”

“Yeah, okay, that’s too long.” She cleaned up the pieces, “Get in my room.”

“You’re not my mom,” he cocked his head.

“Here,” she shoved the jacks into his hand, “take these with you.”

He listened and took the game with him.

She knocked at the door.

“Hey, Buck,” Reader yells through the door with only a slight infliction of panic.

“What?” his voice cracks, weak as he tries to talk. He clears his throat softly.

“I just… uhh… I needed to pee and I just wanted to see when you’d be out.” She would never let him know the real reason was because she was worried about him.

“Sorry, I’ll be like another minute.” He spoke clearly.

Bucky wiped his nose with the back of his hand as water dripped down his face. Snot covered his hands, and everything was wet and hard to clean. He blew his nose into his hands and ran his face under the water. It was too hot for a face and made him wince at the contact.

He didn’t know how long he had been crying, or how long he had been in there. And he can’t imagine how long it was before she noticed.

So, he rubbed himself clean with his unscented soap. (Any scents were just too much for him after the serum). He hugged his body for a minute while he rinsed off before shutting off the water and getting out.

He flipped the light on, wrapped the towel around himself, and stared in the mirror. He looked fucked.

Bucky opened the door and saw Reader waiting outside, leaning against the wall in the hall. He rubbed his eyes, trying to hide his face.

“You okay?” She asked.

“I just washed my face,” he wiped his eyes to prove it, “soap, it got in my eye.”

His face was sticky and dry, his body naked, and his chest was bright red and splotchy from where the water scalded him, and she saw it all.

#Bucky Barnes #Bucky Barnes x Reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #Bucky Barnes fanfic #winter soldier #Steve Rogers #captain america

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lulublack90 · 20 days

Text

Prompt 20 - Green

@jegulus-microfic April 20, Word count 971

Previous part First part

James woke having slept better than he ever had, and James Potter slept pretty damn well. There was something warm pressed up against him, and his arms were wrapped around it. He scrunched up his eyes, willing himself to fall back to sleep. But it was useless once he was awake. That was it.

He let his eyes flutter open and groaned at the sight before him. Regulus was curled into a little ball, snuggled up against his chest, peacefully asleep. James couldn’t help the grin that stretched across his face.

He studied Regulus’s face. He was so beautiful, all porcelain skin and high cheekbones. James’s eyes drifted to the plump, full lips, and he had to use all his willpower not to press his lips against them in a kiss. He dragged his eyes away from them to lessen the temptation.

Regulus’s nose, James noticed, was poker straight and ever so slightly too long, but the rest of his face absorbed that, and unless, like James, you were looking at it scrutinisingly, you’d never notice.

James’s eyes roamed further up and took in the light purple crescents underneath Regulus’s closed eyes. He couldn’t help it. He unwound an arm from around Regulus and gently stroked the silky, thin skin with the pad of his finger. Just once.

He smiled down, memorising everything, completely missing when those stormy grey eyes flicked open.

“James, what are you doing?” Regulus asked, his eyebrow crooking up. James started and blushed at having been caught staring.

“Sorry, you just look so pretty when you sleep.” He turned his head away, suddenly feeling quite shy. Regulus raised his hand and cupped James’s cheek.

“You think I’m pretty?” His voice was barely a whisper. James swallowed hard and nodded.

Regulus turned his face to face him. They were inches away. James watched as Regulus moved painfully slowly nearer. Giving him every opportunity to move, but James had no intention of moving.

He could feel Regulus’s breath ghosting across his skin, his lips. They were so close.

“Oi, you two, breakfast!” A loud thump at the door caused them to jump apart. The spell broken, they both hurried to get out of the room without looking at each other.

Sirius and Remus sat curled up together on the sofa, sipping cups of tea and munching on toast.

“Morning,” James yawned as he helped himself to coffee and croissants. He went to sit on the floor opposite the sofa, leaving the armchair for Regulus. Sirius threw him one of the sofa cushions so he’d be more comfortable, and he tucked into his breakfast.

“Aren’t your parents going to be wondering why you didn’t come home last night?” Sirius grinned wickedly at James.

“Probably not, separate rooms.” James winked at him. Sirius threw his head back and barked out a laugh.

“You know, James. I really like you.” He told him earnestly. James grinned back widely.

“Well, I like you too,”

“Wanna be best friends?” Sirius snickered jokingly. But before James could answer, Regulus’s bedroom door opened again, and he entered the living area. He was wearing an emerald green shirt, and against his complexion, it made him look almost ethereal. James whined audibly, causing Regulus to look up, shocked.

James hurriedly stuffed an entire croissant in his mouth and promptly choked on the buttery pastry. Remus jumped up and helped him through it.

“James, in my professional opinion, it is always best to chew large items of food before you try to swallow them.” He chucked, patting James on the back once James had cleared his airway.

“Yeah, thanks, Doc.” James rolled his eyes at Remus, and Remus retook his seat beside Sirius. “Oh, before I forget,” James started, needing something to say to take his mind off how well the shirt hugged Regulus’s torso. “My parents wanted to know if you wanted to come to dinner. You as well, Remus, of course.” He added, not wanting to leave him out.

“When?” Remus asked when neither of the brothers answered.

“Er- tomorrow?” He answered quickly. His parents hadn’t actually specified, but Euphemia had always instilled in him that you must allow at least 24 hours’ notice for any invitation to give your guests time to prepare.

“Sounds lovely,” Remus said, flicking his eyes to Sirius. “This one will come as well. I don’t know about him, though.” He jabbed a thumb at Regulus.

Regulus was shuffling awkwardly behind the sofa. Remus took pity on him. “Come on, Sirius, let’s go into town, and I can show you this little record shop I found.” Remus tugged at Sirius’s arm.

“But I’ve not even finished my tea,” Sirius complained.

“I’ll buy you one, come on.” Remus persisted. Sirius finally picked up on the tension in the room and allowed Remus to lead him away.

Once the door was shut, Regulus moved to grasp the back of the sofa.

“You want to introduce me to your parents?” He asked warily.

“I mean, sure. I’ve told them a lot about you and Sirius, and they want to meet you. You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.” He was struggling to understand why Regulus was being so weird about it. It was only dinner, not a marriage proposal.

“Just as friends, yeah?” Regulus checked.

“If that’s what you want,” James replied, feeling his stomach drop. He forced his face into a smile. It didn’t meet his eyes.

“Right, well, I need a shower and some clean clothes, so I’ll leave you to it.” He skirted around the sofa and dashed for the door, not looking back.

Once the door had closed, he leaned back against the wall and let his head thud into it. He was such an idiot. Why would Regulus want to be anything more than friends with him?

Next part

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ladykailitha · 1 year

Text

Can Anybody See Me? Part 15

As much as I love the CC boys and all their friends it was time to show life outside them for a second. And Steve got his bitch back.

TW: for homophobic language (rando OC)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14

Steve drove to school feeling lighter than he had in weeks. His parents were still shit but he had friends and people who would look out for him and wasn’t that just a surprise and a half.

He pulled into the parking lot and got out, Eddie pulling into the spot next to him. He had closed the door, pulling his backpack over one shoulder when Nancy and Jonathan appeared out of nowhere.

Eddie raised an eyebrow at him.

“Nah, it’s fine,” Steve said with a small smile. “I’ve got this. I’ll see you at lunch, okay.”

Eddie nodded and walked to class.

Steve turned back to see Nancy and Jonathan staring at him in shock. “How can I help you two?”

“Is everything okay?” she asked. “You’ve been missing a lot of school.”

Steve raised both eyebrows.

“We’re worried about you, man,” Jonathan said. “Especially after what happened with Miss Chen and your assignment.”

Steve sighed. He wanted to be mad at them but he couldn’t. They were worried he might be thrown in jail.

“That was straight up bullshit, by the way,” he growled. “I wasn’t going to show an actual demogorgon or make the characters even look like us. It was just a way to process the trauma. Because I don’t know about you two, but I can’t sleep at night. If it’s not waking up screaming, it’s not being able to go to sleep at all.”

Nancy and Jonathan shared a glance.

Jonathan sighed. “Yeah. It’s got be worse for you because Nancy has Mike and I have both my mom and Will...and well it’s pretty bad for him, too. But you’re all alone in that big house and you’re parents don’t know.” He made an aborted gesture of understanding.

“So we just wanted to check up on you,” Nancy explained, hugging her books to her chest.

Steve ran his hands over his face. “I’m just trying to move on. Make friends that aren’t bullies. That’s not to say you guys are or whatever. It’s just...I don’t want to be on high alert the rest of my life. I’m happy for the first in so long.”

Jonathan licked his lower lip slowly. “You don’t have to answer, but are you with Eddie?”

Steve’s head reared back. “What? How did you–”

He smiled softly, clapping him on the shoulder. “Good for you, man.”

Nancy just looked between them confused.

Jonathan kissed the top of her head. “I’ll explain later. We’ve got to get to class.” He waved at Steve. “See you around, man.” And led her into the school.

Well, shit.

Steve didn’t know how he felt about them knowing before Jeff and Gareth and the rest. But it was out of the bag now. And despite everything he’d been through with Jonathan he knew he wouldn’t tell anyone.

He sighed and made his way to the swimming pool to start morning practice.

Steve sat at the edge of the pool in his Speedo, just kicking his feet. Coach Hall came over.

“Hey, Harrington,” he said, crouching down. “Got word from Doc Martinez. You’re cleared for competition. He says your scans look good and as long as you don’t have a headache day of, you’re good to go.”

Steve grinned. “That’s great news, Coach. Do you think I could add butterfly back in or should stick to relay?”

Coach Hall smiled fondly. “Well, I know I would prefer my best butterfly swimmer back in, but...”

Steve laughed. “Yeah, yeah, I get it.”

Coach Hall patted his shoulder and he slipped into the pool. Ezra immediately swam over to meet him.

“Hey, what did Coach say?”

Steve told him and Ezra grinned. “Hell, yeah. It’s good to see you back, man. It was lonely without you.”

Steve laughed, pushing him away. “Get off, you loon.”

Ezra laughed with him and swam back to the other side of the pool. Steve pulled his goggles down over his eyes and dove beneath the water. Instantly the buzzing sounds inside his head calmed and he felt at peace.

This was where he belonged. He liked basketball, he was good at it. Baseball was fine, but he spent most of the game being bored. But this? This was bliss. Just him and the water.

He surfaced, taking a large breath. He heard the coach’s whistle and came over to the side with everyone else. He listened to the instructions and nodded.

Suddenly it was time to go wash up and change. He eyed the girls as they passed each other. The girls were coming in as the boys were leaving. All the girls were twittering and point at the guys as the guys leered back in turn. Steve didn’t feel the surge of attraction he did when he thought of Eddie up on that stage last night. There was no swooping of his belly, no heat further down.

Oh.

Well, that was certainly something he hadn’t really considered. He had been expecting some kind of attraction. He had had sex with only girls, he had only been on dates with girls. But now that he had something to compare the feelings to...

It was heartbreakingly obvious that he was gay.

Shit.

Steve fretted over showering with the guys. But when he got there he realized that he automatically self-corrected and didn’t look. He never had. It had been a habit. One that he did even with the knowledge he was attracted to boys.

Huh.

That was quite the revelation.

Steve barely made it through his next two classes because he wanted to see Eddie so bad.

He grabbed his lunch and went to go sit down went got bumped into by one of his old baseball teammates.

He managed to hold on to the tray, but he growled, “Watch it, man.”

The boy looked him up and down. “I see you hang with the Freaks now, Harrington. You take it up the ass now, too?”

Steve eyes raked over him. “Why? You looking for a turn?”

The boy pushed him. “I’m not a fag like you, freak!”

Steve sighed. He could feel almost every eye in the cafeteria on them. “Look,” he said, gripping the edges of the tray. “Doesn’t it get exhausting trying to prove something to these assholes?” He waved at their captive audience. “They don’t care about you or me. In six months, they won’t even remember our names.”

“Just because people have forgotten you, Harrington,” the boy growled, “doesn’t mean they’ll forget me, asshole.”

Steve laughed. “I think between the two of us, they’re more likely to forget you then me.” He leaned forward. “You want to know why? Because you haven’t forgotten me, dude. So what does that say about the rest of them?”

The kid sneered and stalked off.

Steve shook his head and then continued his trek to Eddie’s table. He sat down to eat, but after a moment he realized that they were all staring at him, wide-eyed and in shock.

“What?”

“Dude!” Jeff said, sitting back.

Brian nodded. “That was the most brutal verbal take down I’ve seen in a long time, man.”

“It was sick!” Gareth said gleefully.

Eddie stared at him, doe-eyed and fond. “I love you.”

The other three laughed.

Steve grinned back. “I know, I love you, too.”

Jeff, Brian, and Gareth all looked at each other, sharing shocked by happy faces.

“Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit!” Gareth said, bouncing almost out of his chair.

“When did you guys get together?” Jeff hissed, leaning forward so they weren’t overheard.

Eddie blushed. “This morning.” He ducked his head, shyly.

“Boom-chicka-wow-wow,” Brian teased. “Don’t think we didn’t notice that Eddie here was wearing Steve-o’s clothes.”

“Guys...” Steve protested, “it wasn’t like that. My parents came home and my dad was being he’s usual ass-self and Eddie stayed over to make sure I was okay.”

Jeff sighed. “Damn. Can’t tease you about that one.”

“But we can still tease you,” Gareth said with a grin, “about Eddie wearing designer jeans without a single rip or tear.”

Eddie looked down at his pants and cursed. “Shit. I didn’t think about that.”

“Ah yes,” Steve said dreamily. “Eddie’s aesthetic. Wouldn’t want to destroy that carefully maintained image.”

“Shut it, Harrington,” Eddie grumbled.

Steve laughed out loud. “I know it’s almost the end of the day or whatever,” he said digging into his backpack. “But you can use this to distress them.” He handed over a couple of sheets of sandpaper.

“Why do you have sandpaper in your backpack, dude?” Jeff asked.

“It’s for my art class,” Steve explained. “We have these little paper sticks we use to help with shading called smudge sticks and the only way to clean them is to rub them over sandpaper. Here, let me show you.”

He got out his drawing pad and a smudge stick, flipping to a drawing he was still working on. He began working the stick over the harsh pencil lines, smoothing them down.

‘That’s so cool,” Gareth said, leaning closer.

Steve held up the stick. “See how dirty it got?” Everyone nodded. And then Steve grabbed the sandpaper and rubbed the stick over it, making sure to turn the stick so he got all the sides. “Tada!”

“Huh,” Eddie said, “that is neat.”

Steve shrugged. “Yeah, well. So there you go, you have something to make the jeans more you.”

Eddie stared at him starry-eyed. “You are an absolute wonder, Steve Harrington.”

Steve just blushed and shook his head.

Steve got called to the office in his drama class saying that his mother was on the phone.

He sighed and reassured everyone that everything was fine. That she had promised to call and that’s all this was.

He didn’t tell them that the reason she was calling while Steve was in class is because she was in her layover in Paris, France.

He walked into the office and the secretary left him alone. Not because of who he was, but because of who his mother was.

“Hey, Mom,” Steve greeted.

“I’m sorry to pull out of class, love,” Mrs Harrington replied. “But our flight to France was delayed but our flight out of France was bumped up an hour and we only have forty minutes between flights now.”

He sighed. “That sucks. Were you able to get your luggage, okay?”

“We were, thank you, Steven,” she murmured. “I wanted to apologize for your father last night. You know how shouty he gets when he starts drinking. He never means the things he says.”

Steve closed his eyes. He thought that’s what this conversation was going to be about. What all their conversations were about. Nadia Harrington apologizing for whatever dickish thing her husband had done. It was one of the reasons his mother was so respected in town.

Dad would come tearing through making his mark, making himself the center of attention and then Mom would come behind and smooth away bad feelings.

“It’s okay, Mom,” he assured her. “I know what he’s like. But I really can’t quit drama. Or I won’t graduate.”

She sighed. “I know, dear. And I know you’re only doing your best. But he just has such high hopes for you. To start working his accounting firm, to follow in his footsteps.”

Steve swallowed around the lump in his throat. “I’m just not good with numbers like he is.”

Mrs Harrington hummed. “We’ll figure something out, Steven.”

“We always do, Mom,” he agreed.

“I love you so, much,” she murmured. “But your father is giving me the stink eye.”

“Bye, Mom.”

Steve hung up the phone and sighed deeply into his hands. The secretary came out and smiled at him.

“It’s so nice of her to call you to check up on you,” she said cheerfully.

Steve stared at her blankly. There was no asking how he was. What he was doing. Who his new friends were. Just excuses for his dad. He forced a smile in return and then left to go back to class.

Nothing quite like a conversation with your mother to ruin your day, he sighed as he settled back into his group.

Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21

Tag List: @shrimply-a-menace @strangersteddierthings @throwbackthrowaway @novelnovella @cursedfoxteeth @babyblender @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @swimmingbirdrunningrock @steve-the-hairrington @winterbuckwild @spectrum-spectre @matchingbatbites @garden-of-gay @anaibis @thing-a-ling @fandemonium-takes-its-toll @artiststarme @sundead @nelotegreitic @gregre369 @butterflysandpeppermint @thedragonsaunt @kodaik97 @messrs-weasley @scarletzgo @deadlydodos @renaissan-vvitch @evix-syne666 @emly03 @justforthedead89 @ashwinmeird @huniibee @phantypurple @stevesbipanic @shucks-yuckyuck @awkwardgravity1 @bookbinderbitch @reportinglivefromsoda @chasinggeese @be-the-spark-bitch @jinxjinn @kohlraedirectioner @cr0w-culture @xjessicafaithx @whimsicalwitchm @jaywhohasthegay @dangdirtydemons @lovelyscot @howincrediblysapphicofyou @the-redthread estrellami-1

#My writing #stranger things #steddie #canon divergence #the boy with the bat #ladykailtiha writes

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alexfromjersey · 9 months

Text

LONG ROAD TO GRIEF & RECOVERY

Vada Cavell x G!P OC

word count:

warnings: none

a/n: quick little chapter. I kinda neglected this story for my other Jenna one…sorry 😬.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Series Masterlist

GIF by lowkeyvada

“Sleeping Beauty has finally awakened from her slumber”

Deep breath in.

“I’m older than both of you so what I say goes”

Hold it.

“I wish you would just let your balls drop and talk to her. The longing gaze from across the room is so Twilight”

Hold it.

“Happy Birthday youngsters”

Hold it.

“DEVYN!”

Hold it.

“JORDAN!”

Hold it.

“You have to keep your eyes open. Don’t close them”

Exhale.

You let out the breath you were holding into the spirometer. The doctor took the device from you and logged in the numbers. It's been a week since the school shooting. You were shot in your lower abdomen and the bullet lodged into your hip bone. Thankfully, nothing major was nicked or hit, But the doctors had to leave the bullet in otherwise it would cause extensive bleeding.

“Okay Miss Vaughn, your lungs seem clear and strong. But if you start to have trouble breathing or cough/vomit blood, unbearable pain in your hip, go to the ER immediately” The Doctor insisted.

You nodded at his words. Your mother sat in the chair bouncing her leg up and down.

“What about the physical therapy for her leg? Is there a program or something?” Your mom asked.

“There is a physical therapy program we have but without insurance, it costs $250 per session. Based off Jordan’s injury, she will need sessions twice a week” The Doctor explained.

You look over at your mother who seems to be in deep thought. Your face falls when you realize where her thought process is going.

“Okay, thank you Doc” Your mother nodded. She grabs your crutch and helps you to stand. The two of you walk out the office together. You make it to the car and with a bit of a struggle, you manage to get in the front seat.

Your mom gets in the car and pulls out a cigarette. The two of you just sit in silence inside your heads.

“I know what you’re thinking. I know I promised I’ll never go back but…you need those sessions baby” Your mom mumbled.

“I don’t need them. I can do it myself. I can find tutorials on YouTube and do it like that. You don’t have to go back” You said.

“Jordan you’re not a Doctor. You don’t know if doing it yourself will help. These shifts at the diner barely pays the bills and I need you back at 100%” Your mom stated.

You stare out the window with a despondent expression.

“I’m doing this for you. You are my world and I love you forever” Your mom said and grabbed your face to look at her.

You look into her slighted dilated eyes to see nothing but genuine love in them.

“I love you too Mom” You spoke genuinely. Your mom gives you a kiss on the forehead before starting the car.

“Can I go by Quinton’s? I want to check up on him” You asked.

“Of course” Your mom answered.

For the next 15 minutes, you sat in the car with your head against the window looking at the passing scenery. The radio was softly playing in the background and the smell of cigarettes filled the car. You and Quinton hasn’t talk since he told you the news of Devyn passing. You were preoccupied with recovering but you also wanted to give him space to grieve.

It was going to hard moving on with life without Devyn. You felt about the idea. You didn’t want to move on. You wanted to be swallowed up with guilt. Guilt that you survived and he didn’t. Guilt that you could possibly be happy one day.

“Hey Jord, we’re here” Your mom shook you out of your thoughts. You looked up and saw the house you’ve been to numerous times. It felt weird, you started to get nervous. You kept rubbing your sweaty palms on your pants. Your mom took notice and she grabbed your hand.

“Hey, why don’t we go together” Your mom offered.

You swallow harshly and nod at her offer. She gave you an encouraging smile before getting out and coming to your side. She helped you exit the car and walk up the stairs. She knocked on the door for you.

A few moments later, the door opens to reveal Mrs. Hasland.

“I…I” You struggled to find words to say.

Suddenly, you are eloped into a huge. Mrs. Hasland hugged you tightly with tears pouring out her eyes. She kept muttering Thank You Lord into your shoulder over and over again. You wrap your arms around her tightly to return the hug.

Quinton appears from behind his mother. After his mother was finished hugging you, he pulled you into a tight hug too. The two of you pouring everything you needed to say in the hug.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A couple of days go by, you spent most of your time at Quinton’s house since your mother started having her company over. You didn’t want to see the men or hear the noises so you went over to Quinton’s, his parents not minding a bit.

You attended Devyn’s funeral which surprised you and everyone else because you absolutely despised funerals. If you could get out of going to one, you 100% did. But this was Devyn, one of your best friends. You couldn’t not go, you wanted to say goodbye to him one last time. You also didn’t want him to haunt you for not attending.

Another surprise was seeing Mia Reed and Vada at the service. You didn’t expect them to show up at all but you and Quinton appreciated it. The four of you all exchanged socials and phone numbers to keep in contact with one another and check up on each other.

Ding!

The sound of the text message sound brings you out of your thoughts. You grab your phone from the nightstand to see a text message from Vada.

Vada: hey (2:34 am)

Jordan: hey (2:35 am)

Vada: im surprised ur still up (2:35 am)

Jordan: could say the same thing for u (2:36 am)

Vada: i couldn’t sleep. the nightmares wont let me (2:36 am)

Jordan: same (2:37 am)

You watched as the text bubbles pop up and disappear. They pop up again with a new message.

Vada: this is probs a stupid question to ask but how r u? (2:39 am)

You sigh at the question. You could lie and say your okay or you could tell her the truth.

Jordan: fine as I can be. how bout u? (2:42 am)

Vada: good as anyone could be after something like that (2:43 am)

Jordan: understandable answer (2:43 am)

Vada: im sorry about devyn (2:45 am)

Jordan: thnx (2:48 am)

Vada: do u remember anything anything before u passed out (2:51 am)

Jordan: no. all I remember is falling out the stall and then blackness (2:52 am)

Jordan: truth be told I thought I died (2:52 am)

You don’t know why you lied to the girl. Maybe you think you are protecting from remembering anything from that…or protecting yourself.

Vada: we should hang out sometime (2:56 am)

Jordan: we should. when do u want to? (2:57 am)

Vada: maybe this weekend? (2:58 am)

Jordan: im down (2:59 am)

Vada: great 🙂 (3:01 am)

Jordan: 🙂 (3:01 am)

Vada: i should get some sleep. I’ll text u this weekend (3:02 am)

Jordan: looking forward to it (3:03 am)

Vada liked the message and you locked your phone. You placed your phone back on the charger on the nightstand.

“Looking forward to it, ugh” You cringed.

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x oc #jenna marie ortega #g!p reader #jenna ortega #the fallout #vada cavell #vada cavell x reader

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scaredpigeons · 6 months

Text

It’s always the smart ones, isn’t it?

Artist link: https://x.com/rueleaf_art/status/1720131112150695939?s=61&t=mQAX9COmvfjstwJ6klO6CQ

Please give Rue a follow, i just found them on twitter, and this piece is a part of their Huevember series.

WARNING: NSFW 18+ MDNI

Albedo x fem!bimbo!reader fem pronouns and anatomy used.

Word count: 2.9k

CW: albedo is pretty manipulative in this, but reader is willing, so dubious consent warning. Monsterfucking(literally, it’s a hydro slime.) ovipositon, pretty heavy voyuerism, i intended to write reader as a true bimbo, but i kinda lost it so she’s just a little ditzy. Use of an aphrodisiac. Use of leg restraints (inappropriate use of vision.)

Authors Note: listen, this came from the nastiest, most depraved depths of my brain, and its not even that bad. If you don’t like this shit, don’t read it, hands down. If you do like this shit, please let me know if you’d like a continuation, as i left it pretty open ended. This sat half finished in my docs for so long, so if the ending feels rushed, im sorry 🥺

“Right this way, please. Watch your step.”

Albedo led you through the entrance to the cave, a winding tunnel descending deeper into the earth, glowing stone and mushrooms popping up every few steps, illuminating what his lantern couldn’t reach.

“So, what did you say was wrong with the slime again? It’s… copy-lating?” You try to remember what it was that he’d said to convince you to assist him, but you ended up being distracted again by his vibrant blue eyes, and the way his mouth moves when he speaks.

If your crush on the Chief alchemist wasn’t evident to him yet, you’d swear he was more dense than the rocks he so carefully studied. You didn’t exactly hide your admiration, his pretty looks and seemingly limitless intelligence had you hook, line and sinker from the moment you met him.

He’d been kind in the beginning, but had held you at arms length like most others, polite greetings and updates on upcoming projects were the most you could pull from him. It took getting a glittering character review from Lisa and one babysitting trip with Klee—that surprisingly didn’t end in disaster— for Albedo to finally come to see you as a friend.

Now you just wished you could step past that carefully drawn line of friendship into something more.

Albedo sighed, but even with his back to you it sounded as if pushed through a half grin.

“Slimes are baser elemental beings, created from the sedimentation of elements dispersed throughout nature.” He turned slightly to look back at you. “Due to this fact, their intelligence levels are extremely low, resulting in a limited set of desires for their own survival.”

“Right…” you said, touching some of the glowing blue algae on the wall, before noticing the ground becoming more and more damp.

“They congregate around the elemental sources in which they formed within, seeking out other sources when those are no longer sufficient, and defending those sources when necessary.”

“Right,” you said, rolling your eyes with a grin. “That's why when a girls tryna fish, those little shits think that’s the most disrespectful thing I could ever do, and throw themselves at me until I’m either forced to run away, or stab them until they pop.”

“Precisely.” Albedo stepped through a rock cluster that seemed to cut the pathway in half, stepping over the bottom ledge and bending his way under the jagged top. He reached out his hand to offer assistance. You took it, and slid through.

“They have no reasoning, no cognitive ability to differentiate between someone who is harmlessly just passing through, or something that is a threat to their survival. All they know is to feed and attack.”

Albedo kept his hand in yours as he guided you around the corner, stopping to let you stare in awe of your surroundings.

It was a ruin of some sort, at one point it had probably been some kind of place of worship, but now it only housed the rubble that might have been walls, and the massive stone Dias surrounded by glowing water.

The Dias was easily twice the size of your house, a perfect circle carved with intricate swirls and patterns.

“This place is beautiful…” you whispered

Albedo smiled at you, gesturing for you to take a closer look.

You stepped across the stone path to the Dias, smiling at the little fish that swam through the glowing algae. Albedo followed you in your awe until you reached the centre, and looked up at the top of the cavern, grinning at the lights reflecting off the jade and lapis jutting from the rock.

“We will conduct the experiment here.” Albedo dropped his bag down, taking out some strange bottles and his notepad.

“Wait!” You said. “You still haven’t told me exactly what is happening, Albedo. This cavern is beautiful but what does it have to do with slimes?”

Albedo kneeled at his pile of things and began working. “I was exploring a series of caverns networking from Dragonspine to old Mond, when I came across a hydro slime behaving strangely.”

He uncapped his travel beakers, pouring tiny amounts back and forth between them before he seemingly got the right mixture.

“I believe this particular specimen is displaying clear evolutionary characteristics that would completely change the way that slimes are formed, and thus cause unforeseen consequences to the ecosystem not only of Mondstadt, but Teyvat as a whole.”

“Wait, slow down, what?” Your face reddened as Albedo stepped closer, flustered by his proximity and your inability to keep up with his explanation.

“I believe I’ve come across a slime that is evolving. Its actions make me think that if they continue down this evolutionary path, they could become smarter, stronger, and more dangerous.”

You released a tense breath, grateful for his slowed re-iteration. He was so close again, you could feel the gentle warmth he radiated, and see the lights of the cavern reflecting in the pretty blue of his eyes.

“What did it do? That made you stop and think, I mean.”

He paused and gave a soft smile, happy you were still interested in the experiment.

“Well first of all, it did not attack me. In fact, it was rather friendly, and approached me with cautious curiosity.”

“What! Really?” You could practically feel the sparkle in your eyes.

“Of course, would you like to meet it?”

He took your quick nod as intended, reaching into his pocket with his free hand and sprinkling slime bait on the Dias in front of you.

Within a minute, a medium sized hydro slime surfaced from the water, hobbling its way up onto the Dias and to the bait.

“Oh wow!” You whispered, looking between Albedo and the slime. “It’s so calm!”

“Yes, I noticed that too. I’m glad your presence is not alarming to it, that makes the experiment much easier.”

You looked at him in question, but he just handed you the mixed travel beaker.

“Here, this should be ready now.”

“I trust that it's safe,” you laughed. “May I ask what I’m drinking before I do?”

“It is a stimulant created using fire flower stamen essence among other ingredients, meant to warm the internal temperature of your body to create a climate that might be more suitable to the specimens requirements for the experiment.”

You couldn’t help but feel Albedo's eyes raking up and down your body, even though he tried to hide it— and so without hesitation, you drank the beaker in its entirety.

“What, you think it likes warm hugs or something?” You chuckled a bit.

“Something like that. Would you mind sitting down? I know it's damp but it will make interacting with the slime easier for you.”

“Oh not a problem!” You began to feel the effects of the potion take effect as you sat, and immediately the slimes interest was piqued, causing it to bounce in your direction. It was a little intimidating, but you trusted Albedo wholeheartedly, and knew that even if he was wrong about it being docile, he was more than capable of protecting you in case of an emergency.

The warmth in your body pooled outwards from somewhere deep in your belly, pulsing and pulsing until you could feel it in your fingertips.

“Wow…that took effect really…uh, quickly. why am I all… fuzzy?” Your words took longer to come to the forefront of your brain, feeling strange as they rolled off your tongue. A strange buzzing formed between your legs, which immediately embarrassed you.

You reached out to touch the slime, no longer thinking straight. Your fingertips ran across the top of its round body, sliding through the slippery substance it was coated in.

“Oh wow…. S-slimy, hehe.” You giggled, feeling like a child. “‘Bedo? What’s… what do I do?”

Albedo walked closer, leaning over you and causing you to feel incredibly small in his intense gaze.

“You… trust me, right?” Albedo asked.

“Pffft,” you snorted. “Of course I do, silly.”

He seemed to run his tongue over his teeth in thought. “You’d do whatever I ask of you, yes?”

Even through the fog clouding your brain, there was no hesitation in your answer.

“Anything for you, ‘Bedo.” You smiled at him, dizzy with the heat pooling between your legs. “I’ll be a good girl, so good for you.”

He smiled a bit at that, brushing some of his perfect blond hair from his eyes.

“I’ll remember you said that.”

Albedo pulled two chunks of lapis from his coat pocket, and suddenly they flew towards you. You flinched, almost reaching out to protect the slime, until you realized they were moving with the power of Albedo’s vision.

They seemed to melt and mold themselves mid-air, wrapping themselves around your ankles. With a flick of his wrist, Albedo had you thrown to your back, legs high in the air above your head.

You screeched, scrambling to cover yourself with your skirt, but to no avail.

“Now now,” Albedo tutted. “Your cooperation is vital for this stage.”

With cheeks heavy and hot, you lowered your arms back to support your upper half, trying to look at Albedo as he shuffled closer towards you.

“Please, try to relax.” He said, hovering beside you, so incredibly close now that your fingertips buzzed with the desire to reach out and touch him. He flicked a pocket knife from somewhere in his coat, and moved overtop the slime that was in between your legs.

“Hopefully, this shouldn’t take long,” he said, lifting your skirt and eyeing you as you squeaked in alarm but didn’t move to stop him. “And if you stay still, you shouldn’t experience any discomfort. Though from the looks of it, you wont experience any discomfort regardless.”

The way Albedo eyed what you knew to be a sizeable damp patch on your underwear embarrassed you to no end. You were so flustered, he shouldn’t be seeing you like this! Even as he lifted the edge of your panties with a gloved finger and ran his pocket knife through the cotton, exposing you to the cavern, you couldn’t help but chastise yourself for being so uncomfortably wet.

You were probably messing up Albedo’s experiment! You shouldn’t be feeling this way, yet the way he eyed your glistening core sent shivers up your spine.

“A—ah” you stuttered, feeling a single gloved fingertip run through your folds. The pleasure of such a simple touch was overwhelming, and you felt tears pooling in the corners of your eyes as you watched him raise his finger to the light, embarrassed he could see how startlingly wet you were. “I’m sorry B-bedo, I… I don’t know what’s w-wrong with me, I—“

“You’re doing perfectly,” he said, and something in his eyes seemed… hungry. “Everything is as it should be.”

You felt something strange against your behind, wet, slimy movement.

“Look,” Albedo said, looking between your legs. “It seems my potion worked just fine, and the bait made its way to your body’s natural lubricant.”

You stared down between your legs in absent horror as the slime shimmied its way up to your aching core, its front moving and rubbing around at your folds as if it was searching for something.

“B-bait? W-wait—“ you stuttered, moaning as you felt pressure at your entrance. “Albedo!”

But Albedo just watched hungrily as the slime pressed a small portion of itself into your waiting hole, the thick, slimy appendage sliding in with nearly zero resistance thanks to the slick pooling from your core.

Wait, you thought. Did the drink Albedo give me make me this wet?

“Yes.” It took him answering to realize you were mumbling your thoughts out loud. “I gave you a potion that would both enhance your natural lubrication and entice the slime to investigate, to see if my theories were correct.”

The slime moved completely over your core now, its gyrating form moving against your clit as the thick extension of its body began to thrust in and out of you.

Through the thick fog of delirious pleasure, you noticed something glowing within the slimes main body, small, yet bright orbs forming as it essentially fucked the thoughts from your brain.

You were so embarrassed, yet could only lay there and watch as Albedo eyed your exposed hole through the near-clear body of the slime, watching with a dark gaze as your walls pulsed around the appendage.

“Fascinating,” he murmured, only looking away to jot short notes in his notebook.

The glowing grew brighter, and you looked down just in time to watch as a small, egg shaped orb moved from the slimes main body down, down down until you felt it push past the ring of muscle at your entrance.

“It’s depositing the eggs now,” Albedo said almost reverently, watching with rapt attention as the egg was pushed deeper by the thick appendage still thrusting inside.

“‘Bedo…” you moaned, the pressure inside you causing a rushing heat to form, and you felt as if you might orgasm at any moment. The slimes appendage pushed at your walls, pumping another glowing egg past your entrance, and Albedo’s eyes bore into your core as he watched the glowing orb be thrusted deeper inside you.

You realized with a squirm that due to the semi-clear form of the slime, and the glowing nature of the eggs, Albedo was likely watching the entire process and clearly seeing everything happen. The idea that he was watching your insides be filled in such a way was what sent you over the edge, yet this only seemed to make the slime more invested in pumping you full even further.

Albedo looked as though he might drool as you clenched around the appendage, and you blushed even harder at the idea that the alchemist was gaining more than just scientific gratification from this.

You leaned up a bit to gaze at his crotch, and sure enough, a noticeable bulge strained against the fabric, tenting his pants.

The fact that he was enjoying this made your brain melt even further, and you threw your head back, no longer caring to hide your moans.

The slime pumped you full of its eggs, one by one it thrusted the glowing orbs deep into your guts, stretching and pressing sinfully up against your cervix, as if it meant to push them deeper within you.

And the appendage did, it pressed them deeper, and suddenly the pleasure turned to dull pain as it pushed and pushed against your natural resistance.

Albedo must have seen this, and must have seen the panic in your eyes, because his sword suddenly materialized in his hand, and with one swift motion, he cut the slime down while it was still inside you.

You screamed as it burst, coating your lower half in its residue, making you even more sticky and uncomfortable.

But the way Albedo called your name out broke you from your frazzled daze, and you looked up to see his eyes, those beautiful blue eyes still staring hungrily at your sopping entrance.

“Push them out.” He said simply.

“W-what?” You murmured, legs still suspended in the air, brain still heavy with the fog of whatever was in that potion.

“Push them out for me.” He glanced at you, holding your stare just until he saw the command register, and then he watched as your body clenched, and suddenly your hole opened up, pushing a slimy, dimly glowing egg out and onto the ground beneath you.

You groaned at the strange feeling, overwhelmed and yet so enraptured by the way Albedo was staring at you, you never wanted it to end.

“Good.” He said quietly. “So good for me, just like you promised.” He crouched down between your legs, spreading you even further with his fingers to look into your pulsing hole. Your insides clenched at his praise, and you could feel the eggs shifting inside you.

“Keep going, I want to watch them all come out of you.”

So you pushed again, this time, two popped out in rapid succession, and Albedo licked his lips as he murmured soft words of praise, though you could barely hear them over the sound of your own labored breaths and tiny moans.

You pushed again, feeling the remaining eggs shift and rub up against that sweet, sensitive spot inside you once more. You cried out, an egg barely breaching your entrance before your body sucked it back in.

“Come on,” Albedo thumbed gently over your swollen clit, rubbing tight circles with the perfect amount of pressure. “Orgasm if you need to, but keep pushing them out for me, darling.”

You keened, the word darling had barely left his lips before your body crashed over the precipice of orgasm, pulsing outwards in hot bursts from the point of connection between his thumb and your clit.

You managed to push the rest of the eggs out, and as the last one fell from your gaping hole, you heaved in a relieved breath, sweat running down your exposed thighs.

You watched as Albedo turned a couple of the slimy eggs over with the end of his pencil, eyeing them inquisitively before he stood over you once more.

Your eyes were so heavy, the effects of the potion still weighing in your chest and between your legs.

Just as you were about to whimper out your discomfort, Albedo’s boot stomped down on the pile of eggs hard, splattering the condensate all over your lower half. He stomped until they were all destroyed, then gazed upon your disheveled form with eyes that screamed danger, though to you it just looked like desire.

“A-Albedo?” You mumbled, legs shifting uncomfortably in their restraints.

“You’re still under the influence of the potion, yes?” He reached down and flicked his belt from the buckle, popping the button of his slacks with one hand. “Let’s take care of that.”

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killersfool · 7 months

Note

fluff w bobby! idk smth like hurt/comfort. maybe she’s had a bad date and goes to bobby and they like confess , idrk but i think that’d be cute

Comfort | ROBERT KEATING

thank you for the request !!

PAIRING: robert keating x f!reader

WORDS: 3.4k

SUMMARY: reader goes on a terrible date. she calls her old work friend, rob, who comforts her and opens up about some hidden feelings.

GENRE: hurt/comfort, friends to lovers, fluff

WARNINGS: references to eating disorder

The worst date of my life occured on a Tuesday afternoon, starting at exactly 8.43pm. For starters, the guy was late, 13 minutes late on the dot. Never trust your Tinder matches. I guess I should've figured out what a mess the whole thing would be. I'd sat down at a window seat in Nando's. Sun glowed gently across the table. It gave me a positive outlook on the whole thing. But by the end of the evening, as I left that dreaded restaurant with a soggy bag of chips in my right hand, I was holding back tears. Rain was pouring. My umbrella had broken. Dark clouds had appeared in the sky. Pathetic fallacy. I could hardly even breathe as I sat down in the train.

My first port of call — for some odd reason — was my old work friend. Rob and I had worked together in a restaurant just down my street. We'd been through hell together. My worst memory was when I dropped about ten glasses across the kitchen floor, accidentally smashing them to pieces. The manager heard the crash ring out through the entire restaurant. He ran through the kitchen doors. They swung open as if he was a wild beast prepared to eat me whole. Bones and all. This was the first time I'd made a major mistake as a kitchen porter. I was trying to prepare myself for the incessant shouting to soon ensue. But before I could even build a wall around me, a hand grabbed mine and pulled me out of the kitchen. I wasn't sure who it was grabbing my pinky finger or why they were helping me escape but I didn't complain, I just let them lead me through the main restaurant where guests were staring at us with patient eyes. They really believed we were running around just to ask for their order.

The long mane of curly hair made me realise who was dragging me alone. Robert Keating. The waiter who's sarcasm was off the charts. Each time he came into the kitchen, he'd be going on a rant about how stupid the job was and how much he hated the manager. Most of the chefs agreed. But they'd make sure to put on cheery faces whenever Mr Jacob came in to check everything was alright. Robert had worn Doc Martens to the beach when they had a dinner party to celebrate 10 years of the restaurant. I had made sure to come along with my best dress on and trainers. Robert had appeared with some Doc Marten boots, red shorts and Joy Division shirt, assuring everyone that his boots were 'made for walking on sandy terrain'. Then he complained about them for the entire time. He didn't make any sense.

Once we'd escaped through the front door of 'Jacob's Pizza', we continued running down the street until we got to the park. I knew by that moment I'd sure be fired. No one was running after us. No one really gave two shits about us. We weren't a necessity to the work force. We were just there. Looming.

Rob had sat down on one of the kid's swings (the tiny ones that you can't get into once you grow out of them). He allowed his infinitely long legs to dangle off the edge—not putting them through the holes because he'd surely get stuck which would've been a very Rob thing to do. The park was empty. It was a Tuesday evening. Stars lined the sky. Rob patted the swing next to him, asking me through his motions to join him. I complied. Awkwardly slotted myself in a mildly comfortable position onto the swing. I grabbed onto the rusty chains which had been there for dozens of years. Paint ripped away by years of use, years of bad weather.

"Mr Jacob didn't deserve us. We were too good for him." Sixteen-year-old Rob always thought quite highly of himself—not to the point of being a show off—but just enough to make you shake your head. The use of the collective pronoun was different for him. A change to usual. He was including me in his declaration of greatness. His blue eyes were shining and he'd thrown his apron to the ground. Black button-up shirt and black trousers. His smile was a lighthouse, illuminating that stretch of grass before us.

"I fucked up. Sorry, Rob." I'd looked away from him. Wrung my fingers together, picked at my nails. We'd been working there for months. Of course I had to be the one to make a mistake.

"Hey, don't worry. There's loads of jobs around here. I'm sure you'll find somewhere else," he assured. He reached out a hand between the two swings, let it linger on my shoulder. I followed suit with him. Chucked my apron into the nearest bin. One of those bins that never get emptied. Overflowing with fizzy drinks and sweet packets.

I allowed my head to drop down onto his hand. His fingers took a short hike through my hair.

He then started to laugh. "How the fuck did you drop all those glasses? I swear you purposely tipped the tray over."

"What if I did?" I smirked. It had been accident. Or maybe my irritation at the place just wanted to come out.

Rob was pressing his shoes to the ground, trying to make the swing fly upwards. He'd smiled to himself at my words. "Then I thank you for your service. I'd been trying to get out of there for a while. My band are getting way more gigs and the job was getting in the way of everything."

"Your band? You've never told me about that." I was intrigued. I had no idea he played an instrument. I knew that he loved The Strokes as he'd always put them on the kitchen playlist. I couldn't imagine him on a stage. Performing. Making music. It was the last thing I'd expected he'd do.

"Yeah. We've called it Inhaler. An ode to Eli's asthma—"

"Hewson? He's in it? Fuck no." I'd never been the biggest fan of Elijah. He'd dated my friend and left her heartbroken. I'd never personally spoken to guy but from a distance, I was the slightest bit terrified of him.

"I had no choice! He forced me into it."

"So he's singing, right? Then you're playing what?"

"Bass."

"Really? That's..."

"So sexy. I know."

That's when I shook my head, smiling. His face was serious but as my teeth appeared, so did his. We were both laughing at nothing, giddy because of the air cooling our cheeks. Just his presence, him being next to me, made me feel so much warmer.

Now my eyes are teary, my throat is raw. I'm sat in the corner of a train compartment. Toddlers are screaming at their parents, music is blasting in my ears and the fields turn to blurs of green as I lean back into my seat.

The guy was a prick. A self-centered waste of time who thought the whole world revolved around him and only him. I was asking all the questions. He didn't want to know anything about me. His mouth would never stop moving. I hardly got a single word into any conversation. He showed off about his job, his money, the university he went to and he joked about how much I ate. He'd stared at my stomach when I stood up, as if he was trying to measure my waist with his eyes. That's when I just walked out of the place, taking my remaining chips with me. I don't know why I even agreed to go. He wasn't even nice on the app.

Phone ringing. Hand over my stomach. I had gained weight. I'd started eating more than I had months ago. Food was a comfort, food was a memory-store, food was something to keep me going. There were all kinds of flavours that would bring me back to figments of my past. Eating was a way to reminisce and a way to make new memories. It had irked me—that look in his eye, the raise of a brow. I was skinnier on my Tinder profile. But back then I wasn't happy. Constantly focused on my calorie intake, on how much exercise I had done in a week.

"Hello?" Rob picks up. His words play through my headphones. His voice hasn't changed since I last saw him. It's still low and raspy.

I sniffle, finding it hard to even get my words out. I can see in the train window that my skin is blotchy and red. My bottom lip is quivering. I'm trying to hold everything in. I'm like a bomb on the verge of explosion. I don't like crying. I especially don't like crying on a train where eyes are glancing over in my direction.

"You alright?" He whispers. It's 10pm and I'm wondering what he's been doing. Has he been at a show? I've been trying to keep a track of where they've been going on their tour. Right now he could be absolutely anywhere. The last I heard he was in Scotland.

"What are you up to?" I try to divert the conversation to him. I just want to hear him talk. Anything he tells me, I'll listen.

"I'm back home in Dublin. Eating mince pies. I know it's early but my Ma is too obsessed with Christmas for her own good. It's what, 2nd of November? And she's already got her tree up. Tinsel and everything. What's up with you? You sound different. Has Eli been giving you shit again? That gobshite needs his head knocked in."

He's in Dublin. I'm in Dublin.

"I miss your Ma." I remember the one time we walked home from work together. His Ma had given me a lung constricting hug. She'd thought I was Rob's girlfriend. Told me that he non-stop talked about me. I didn't believe her. I still don't believe her. I could never see Rob having a crush on anyone, let alone me. "It's nothing to do with Eli. Although I agree, he is a little bitch. It's actually this shitty bloke I met on Tinder. He thought he was all that. Most boring guy I've met in my life."

"Instagram, please?"

"I don't trust you with anyone's Instagram."

"At least tell me his name. I want to make fun of him."

"Albert."

"What a name. Honestly, I'm thinking about getting my name legally changed to that. Albert. Wow. I'm impressed."

"He told me his nickname was 'Alby'. I almost laughed." I smile to myself, wiping tears away. I hear Rob snort through the phone.

"Found his Instagram. That was easy. He looks weird. Shit hairline."

"Rob!!! Keep away from his DM's please."

He went silent. He was most definitely already sending him stupid messages. I didn't really mind. The guys deserved shit after what he put me through. Two hours of nonsense. At least the food was good. Nando's is my favourite.

"Aren't you in Dublin? Do you want to come play some bird bingo? It's been a while since I saw you. We've got at least a years supply of mince pies."

I'm cheesing. Sucking in quick breaths as my tears stop falling. The train comes to a halt in the station. My head is leaning against the window, my mouth opens wide as I see a figure sat down on a bench. That familiar mop of hair, those shining eyes, an entire bass guitar case sat beside him. I'm gobsmacked.

The call ends before I can try to speak. Before long, my legs are moving and I'm shuffling through crowds, trying to find the exit. Maybe I was just imagining him. Maybe I just wanted him to be there. But then I'm outside the train, walking down the platform and two arms wrap around my stomach.

"Hey," is all he says, straight into my ear.

He isn't usually this touchy. We used to go for coffee and he'd never hug me. We weren't that kind of friends. Now his arms are holding me flush against his chest and his hair is tickling my ear and I just want to close my eyes and blow the world away.

I turn around to face him. His hands are still on my waist, scrunching the material of my jumper. He has a cardigan on, his eyelashes are so long, he's watching me with worry etched upon his features.

Then I break down. I can't deal with it anymore. I can't hold it in.

"Sweetheart..." He pulls me straight into his chest, hands cupping my head like it's going to split into two. I sob into his cardigan. My palms are against his shoulderblades and his head is on my shoulder. I can feel his nose smush into my skin and he mumbles quiet comforts into the air. "He doesn't deserve you. He's an idiot. Piece of shit." Words of comfort are usually just insults from Rob—but they still make me feel way better.

I don't know what I would've done without him. I keep imagining myself going home and crying into my pillow, no one there to tell me it'll be okay. I'm so glad he's here. I'm so glad he's holding me.

"Let's go home?" He pulls me away the slightest bit just to see my face. His thumb jumps just beneath my eye, wiping away the falling tears. He then gently kisses my nose. I'm shocked and confused. The warmth of his lips against my freezing nose is a welcome relief. I'm sure a sigh escaped my lips at the gesture.

I'm not sure which home he means. His or mine. But wherever we're going, I'll follow him. I want to be somewhere warm. I want to eat some nice, warm food and forget that guy ever even existed. Rob still has an arm around me as we walk through the station. He gives me a packet of tissues and buys me a hot chocolate from Starbucks. Even whilst carrying his entire bass along on his other shoulder, he makes sure to keep an arm around my back, fingers curled over my waist.

"How come you've got your bass?" I taste the hot chocolate. It burns my tongue. My spare hand points along the rather massive case which is definitely heavy.

"I was practicing with the band. I was about to head home when you called me so I ran to the station instead."

"So you lied about the mince pies?"

"Oh no. That is very true. You'll see when we get back. I just lied about where I was—you know, for the surprise element."

His then. We are going to his. I've never been inside his house before. I've only walked down his street and glanced through the windows. He'd always have the best Halloween decorations. The Keating house was always a go to in order to get the best sweets. His mum would come out dressed in the most flamboyant costume possible. Rob would always be standing beside her, forced forwards with a bag of sweets in his hands.

Up past his parents' cars. Still some Halloween stickers on the windowsill and pumpkins next to the welcome mat. He twists his key in the door. It clicks and opens up to a corridor. He was right about the Christmas decorations. Snow globes on a bookshelf, wreath on the door, Christmas tree lights are colourful through the window. The whole living room is dark green.

The house is silent. The dishwasher is wildly spinning and wind is wailing. Other than that it is extremely quiet. And warm. So very warm. I can actually feel my fingers now.

Rob takes my hand once I've pulled off my shoes. He pulls me along into the living room, we crash down onto the sofa.

"Tell me everything," he says. He stretches out his legs and places his feet on the coffee table. He has fluffy socks that have the face of a red robin. "All the nitty gritty. Get it all out of your system."

"I don't even know where to start." I pull at the skin of my cheek, look up at the ceiling. "We went to Nando's. It was my idea. I got there bang on time but had to wait for ages for him to get there. He was late—"

"First red flag."

"Right? I should've just left. Anyway, he came in. Blamed his lateness on traffic when he literally lived in the town I went to. Like wouldn't you just walk? He ordered hardly any food then got all weird when I ordered my usual. I had a pudding too. He was just so judgy. He told me about his degree in Maths and how he was doing a phD. He didn't seem to impressed about my Law degree. He barely even let me talk. Then the last thing, the cherry on top, was when he stared at my belly when I stood up as if I had some kind of disease. I felt ill. I've never been so insecure in my life."

Rob's mouth was open wide, jaw dropped. He kept his eyes on mine. Listening. It was so nice to have someone just hear what I was saying for once.

"You're the prettiest, most intelligent girl— I'm going to have a right word with that nob— I'm going to have a right fucking word with him. He thinks he can just..." His burst of emotions makes him stand up and pace around the room. I smile at his compliments but frown when he starts to get angry.

"It's fine. I'm here now. I don't have to think about him again."

Rob sits down again. Then his head falls onto my stomach. He closes his eyes. His arm reaches over for the coffee table. He grabs two mince pies. One for me, one for him. Bending his arm and extending it, he passes one up to me. I gratefully take it. I peel off the metal then take a bite. It’s delicious. Rob is smiling up at me. There’s a little pastry on his chin. I wipe it away with my thumb. My finger seems to have a mind of its own. It starts to trace lines along his face. Beauty spot to beauty spot. Like his skin is paper and I’m doing a join the dot. My thumb lands back on his lips and I trace along the two pink shapes. A little chapped, warm and soft. He opens his eyes again.

Then I’m hit by this weird feeling. Like I’m reaching a high. Or I’m slamming the accelerator. Or I’m at a claw machine and finally win a prize. That hum of euphoria, singing through your ears. He’s twisting his head on my belly like it’s a pillow. My thumb is still at the corner of his mouth. My heart is beating in my ears. There’s something clicking. A realisation.

I’m in love with Rob. I’ve always been in love with him.

“Look, I know this is a really bad time to say this,” Rob speaks. His words a gruff. I listen intently.

“What’s up?” I brush his hair out of his face. Curls between my fingers.

“You’ll think I’m stupid.”

“I won’t.”

“You will.”

Rob closes his eyes again. He breathes out. He looks for my other hand and places it on his chest, his hand resting just above it. I can feel his heart pounding like crazy. I never knew a human heart could move so quickly. I never knew that here, in this dimly lit room, after my heart has been torn into two separate pieces I’d be feeling Rob’s heart under my fingertips.

“Geez, Rob. Am I that scary?” I stroke his hair again, his fingers now grazing my knuckles.

“Yeah, terrifying.”

“Just tell me. What is it?”

“I love you.”

The whole room falls apart. My whole body feels like it’s been ripped into two then sewn back together. His eyes close again but he peeks a little with his left one just to gauge my reaction. I’ve stopped moving. My brain isn’t working.

“Christ. Really?” I whisper.

“Yes. I think of you every time I buy pizza, every time it’s Halloween, every time I’m drinking from a glass. Everywhere I go, you’re there. Whenever we went for coffee, I’d feel empty when you left. It just—even when you told me about this date. I was jealous at first. I want to take you on dates and fall in love with you even more.”

He sits up. He grabs onto both of my cheeks.

“I love you too,” I say before pulling him into a kiss.

#robert keating #bobby skeetz #inhaler band #inhaler fanfiction #inhaler dublin #elijah hewson #inhaler x reader #inhaler imagines #robert keating fanfiction #bobby skeetz fanfiction #inhaler oneshot #inhaler imagine #inhaler oneshots #fanfiction

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maplekzh · 5 months

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one for me

nami x gn!reader

wc: 837

warnings: making out, kinda heavy petting?, some sexual tension, fluffy and sappy!!

had a good half of this just sitting in my google docs for two months and decided to finish it, so hopefully its alright!

nami, you think, is the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen. across all seas, islands, and whatever else there may be, she is the one for you.

it’s well past midnight now, and yet neither of you are able to sleep. the library of the sunny is silent, save for the scratching of pencil against paper and the page of a book turning every once in a while. a lamp lights up the room, the warm light giving off a cozy feel.

nami sits at her desk, working on a map of the island the sunny left earlier today. a pair of reading glasses sit perched on the slope of her nose, the light from the lamp glaring against the lenses softly. her eyebrows pinch together and she rests her chin in palm, staring at the paper in deep thought. the book in your hands is long forgotten as you stare, breathless, at the scene a few feet away from you.

you can’t will yourself to tear your eyes away from her.

a sigh slipping through her lips is what shakes you from your longing, your eyes snapping back down to the book in an attempt to look busy.

“enjoying that book, aren’t you?” a glint of mirth is evident in her expression as you make eye contact, and you know you’ve been caught. your laugh rings softly throughout the library, a bashful smile stretching across your lips.

“was i really that obvious?” face growing hot, you mark the page of the book and place it to the side before turning to fully face her. a smile graces nami’s lips as she basks in your embarrassment, removing her glasses and rising from her seat at the desk to make her way to you.

a stuttering breath slips past your lips as she seats herself on your lap, soft thighs caging your hips against the fabric of the seat. her arms drape around your neck, looping around to comb through the hair at the base of your neck as she brushes her lips against your earlobe. somewhere in the back of your mind you try to remind yourself to breathe, but the absolute vision sat right on your thighs makes it extremely difficult.

“if i didn’t say anything, you might’ve already burned a hole through me, baby,” a mix of a whimper and a sigh erupts from your throat as she tugs the skin between her teeth for a moment. “what’s on your mind?” nami’s eyes meet yours as she pulls back, caressing your cheek. the hand you have rested on top of her thigh clenches as a reverent sigh escapes your lungs, leaning into her soft touch.

“love you so much, ‘mi. so smart, so beautiful, so funny. could never shut up about you..” your voice trails off as you admire her, so gorgeous seated in your lap. the hand you had rested on the arm of the chair rises to hold her chin, bringing her to your lips.

soon enough, nami takes charge of the intimate kiss. she moves her lips against yours slowly, hands tugging at the roots of your hair and shifting in your lap to get closer. tongues intertwining, you moan against her mouth and slip your arms around her waist, hands landing on her ass. nami returns your moans with her own noises as you grope her ass and thighs, rolling her hips against yours languidly.

soon, you find it hard to breathe and pull away slightly. her eyebrows crease and she tries to follow your lips, but a squeeze of your hand stops her. panting fills the room as the two of you catch your breaths, your head falling to rest against her chest as your arms hold nami against yourself.

“think y’re the one for me, nami,” you mumble against her skin, the room quiet save for the sound of breathing and waves hitting the sunny outside. her chest stops moving to the rhythm of her breath for a moment and you look up in concern.

nami’s mouth is slightly ajar as she sits frozen in place, still processing your words silently. though before you have a chance to apologize, her arms pull you forward against her chest in a tight hug. you can feel her smile against your skin as she tucks her head into the crook of your neck.

“i think you’re the one for me, too.”

a laugh leaves your mouth at her whisper, squeezing her in your arms. you stand from the chair and twirl her around the room, her laughs resonating throughout the space. after setting her on her feet, you bring her close and kiss her once more.

“next island we stop at, you’re gonna come with me and we’re gonna pick out whatever ring you want. don’t even care if i can’t afford it, hell i’ll go into debt if it means you have a ring you love.” you mumble against her lips, hearts in your eyes as she smiles brightly at you.

#nami x reader #one piece x reader #op x reader #woooo finally out of the drafts #may add onto this we will see

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timelessstardust99 · 5 months

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Star gazing | 14th doctor x female! reader (part i)

NO SPOILERS (okay, maybe slightly)

Pairings: 14th doctor x reader

Warning: slight spoilers, nothing major, hopefully (the meep counts as a spoiler I think)

Characters: the doctor and the reader.

Summary: after everything with the meep had finally ended, the doctor thought it was best to stay the night at the noble-temple household, slowly getting closer to y/n who reminds him so much of his late wife.

y/n sat on the roof of her goddaughters shed, staring up at the vast openness of space. It was calming, relaxing even. Just today, she had battled some evil alien by the name of meep and nearly lost the earth because of the meep.

She had also met a strange man, he was named the doctor, he knew Wilfred a long time ago and apparently he knew Donna and Sylvia as well before she came into the picture. Growing up, she had heard of a man in a blue box that could travel in space and time, she was quite the spunky kid growing up and loved everything about the stories and would attempt reenact the stories, as if she herself lived them. Her imagination was good, she could imagine anything and she could do it. That's how she got her career. She was determined.

Startled out of her thoughts, she saw the strange man in question climbing up onto the shed, struggling to steady himself, which caused the young woman to raise a brow. Once he was steady enough, he looked up and saw y/n there, and he grinned. "Oh, hell y/n, I didn't realize you were here." He lifted himself up and sat right next to her, "why haven't you gone to sleep yet? I'm sure you're exhausted from today," the doctor questioned. She bit her lip and turned away, staring up at the stars again.

"sorry, I've got lots of things on my mind, hard to sleep really." She sighed. The two were shoulder to shoulder, the silence between them was awkward or had any sort of tension. The doctor glanced her way, noticing small details, little ones that remind him so much of River. Everything she did today reminded him of River, and he couldn't explain. He nudged her.

"well, that's no good. You humans need your sleep." He joked. y/n laughed, shaking her head, her slight curls (or whatever style you have/want) bounced on top of her head.

"yeah, suppose you're right, doctor," she looked over to him, him being caught and frozen by those e/c pools of hers. "But, I just can't seem to. I mean, after everything, it's a wonder I'm still sane. That alien nearly killed me and my goddaughter and her family and almost millions of others." She pulled at her hair in frustration, before slumming, the doctor watching her closely. She glanced at him, "you know, growing up, I heard the stories of you. The amazing doctor my mum would call you, thought you were a myth." She shrugged, nudging him back.

He chuckled, "amazing, huh?" He asked, "I think I'm far from that, dear." He froze at the word he used, hoping she didn't catch it. She wasn't River. River was gone, and so were Amy and Rory.

y/n stared at him with wide eyes, before smirking, "dear? No one besides Donna or Sylvia calls me that." She gently pushed the doctor. "Don't tell me you fancy me doc," she laughed. The laugh was so familiar to him, which helped sooth his aching pain.

"no, sorry, it slipped." He admitted, "you just remind me of someone... Someone important." y/n stopped laughing, her smiled going soft.

"they must be important if little old me rinds you of them. What's their name?" She saw his face and tried to backtrack herself, "I'm sorry, you don't have to tell me --"

"no, no, it's fine." He sighed and rubbed at his eyes. "Her name was River Song... She's gone now." He said.

"well, she sounds nice, this River woman." She leaned back on her hands, her hair cascading down her shoulder, "wish I could've met her."

"yeah." He said, watching the stars alongside her, their shoulders close as her head gently leans against his shoulder. He tensed at the feeling, but soon relaxed. "Oh, I have to ask. Donna said that you were back only for a month from college. What do you study?" He asked after a beat. She got off his shoulder and beamed.

"archeology. I'm becoming an archeologist, so I can travel the world and find hidden discoveries and artifacts that have been lost in history!" She grinned. The doctor stared at her in shocked silence as she went back to watch the stars. But, River was an archeologist. Don't tell him this is the universe's way of playing a crude joke on him. "Someday doctor, I'm gonna change the world. And people will know who I am. I'll be a great archeologist, I just know it." She looked at him to see him looking at her with nervousness. "What's that look for?" She asked. He smiled at her gently.

"heh, spoilers," he chuckled. She shook her head at his weirdness and went back to the stars. What did the world have in store for him? Only time would tell, and he already knows he hasn't got any left.

note: it's a bit short, and just to clear it up River and the reader are not related. They just look similar in style and career choices, that's it.

#fourteenth doctor x reader #rose noble #doctor who #x reader #female reader #donna noble #meep doctor who #alienxhuman #shaun temple #sylvia noble #doctor who 60th anniversary #one shot #fluff

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mushyblushyredhead · 7 months

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DAY 9: Lie ˚✧₊⁎・⁎⁺˳✧༚ (Marvel)

TickleTober 2023 🎃

Presented by @august-anon

Lee!Peter 3

Ler!Doc Ock

Words: 2,400

Summary: Spider-Man’s snarky quips have always helped him out of intense situations. Except when one particular Spider-Man (Peter 3) quickly realizes that his iconic quips aren’t enough to hide the silly weakness he “totally doesn’t have” from a certain eight-limbed, but surprisingly playful, scientist.

Peter 3 hummed to himself as he dangled upside down on one of the infamous actuators of Doctor Octavius. He never thought he’d be casually sitting in the same room with the once notorious villain from Peter 2’s universe.

The three Spider brothers had decided to hang out together earlier that day in the oldest Peter’s world. Except, Peter 2 had forgotten that he had to help assist Otto in the lab that same day.

“Aw don’t tell me you’re secretly helping him build another doomsday machine,” Peter 3 had joked.

The oldest rolled his eyes. “Relax. He’s dropped out of the villain gig for good. I was only supposed to help him sort and organize stuff around the lab, that’s all.”

The youngest Peter pouted. “Awww so what does that mean? You won’t be able to hang out today?”

Peter 2 was about to say something when the younger spiders both gave him their best puppy dog eyes stare. He grimaced. He could never deny his little bros with those looks. “Okay, look,” he finally said with a sigh. “Even though I’m supposed to help Otto today, I guess…you guys can…tag along too? As long as you don’t break anything, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind your guys’ company.”

“Alright!” The younger brothers cheered. “Let’s go!”

Things went smoothly upon arrival. Doctor Octavius was a bit surprised that all three Peter Parkers showed up, but he didn’t mind. While he and his Peter worked away at sorting through cabinets and desk drawers, the doctor let the younger Peters play around with his metal tentacles to keep them occupied.

Peter 1 was having a blast; swinging and dangling from the actuators, and letting them hold and lift him up.

Peter 3, however, wasn’t exactly having the same amount of fun. He simply sat down on a nearby swivel chair, pretending to be occupied with his web shooters. He was still a little unnerved about Doctor Octavius.

Okay, he had to admit, those artificially intelligent metal arms of his were really cool in a way. But they still seemed kind of…scary? Intimidating? The way those pointy claws curled and snapped shut, and the fact that were intelligent with a mind of their own that used to take control of their maker’s mind. Shudder.

It wasn’t until Peter 2 announced for a coffee break, that got the younger Spider bros’ attention.

“I’m just going to grab a couple coffees from Starbucks for us,” he said while grabbing his coat. “Anyone want anything from there?”

“Oooh! Oooh!” Peter 1 frantically waved from his upside down position on the actuators. “I’ll take a mango dragonfruit lemonade! Make it a venti!”

“Got it. Peter 3? You want anything?”

Said Peter hummed in thought. “Umm…a mocha cookie crumble for me. Make mine a venti, too.”

Peter 2 nodded. “Got it.”

The youngest spider chirped. “Wait! Can I come with you? You might need an extra pair of hands to carry all the drinks, heh.”

“Good thinking, little bro.”

“Awesome! Okay, uhh…can you guys let me go?” Peter 1 sheepishly asked the clingy actuators. They whirred understandingly and set him down, and all took a turn to give him a quick hair ruffle.

“You guys need me to come, too?” Peter 3 asked, getting up from his spot.

“Actually…” said the oldest. “Peter 1 and I can handle it. Thanks, though. In the meantime, you can hang back here in the lab. We won’t be long.”

“You can chill out here with Doc’s cool arms!” Peter 1 chirped. “They’re really fun to be around. Super clingy, too, but affectionate.”

“Oh. Okay then…” the middle brother eyed the mechanical arms wearily from the corner of his eye.

Peter 2 wrapped an arm around his shoulder. “Hey, I know what you’re thinking. There’s no need to be afraid or intimidated by him. It’s all good now. I know you don’t know Doc as well as I do or even like Peter 1 has gotten to lately, but this is a chance to get to know him, too. Oh, and don’t be scared about those metal arms of his. They won’t bite.”

Peter 3 rolled his eyes. “Yeah, okay, whatever. Just go get my coffee already. I need my caffeine!”

“Relax, bossy,” the oldest said with a poke to the middle’s ribs. “We’ll be back in a little bit.”

Peter 3 flinched and bit back a smile. It got super quiet in the lab now that the other two left. It was a little too quiet for Peter 3.

Doc Ock noticed how uneasy the middle Peter looked. He gave a little sigh. He must still be intimidated by me. He couldn’t blame the young Spider-Man. He knew he must’ve always looked intimidating to anyone who came across him.

But still, he didn’t want the young Parker to be afraid of him forever. Maybe his Peter’s suggestion earlier about leaving the two of them alone wasn’t such a great idea after all.

Then one of his nearby actuators chirped. Oh, yes. I almost forgot about that. Let’s just hope that what my Peter says about him is indeed true.

The scientist cleared his throat, breaking the awkward silence. “Y’know, you can have a look around my laboratory if you’d like. You don’t have to be confined to one spot.”

Peter 3 nodded. “Yeah, okay.”

Octavius shyly extended a metal tentacle towards him. “Would you…like to have a seat?” I know your other counterparts really enjoy it. Especially the littlest Peter.”

The middle Spidey hesitated or a moment. “Well…okay.” He climbed on top of the extended actuator. It suddenly lifted him up high off the ground. “W-Whoa! What the heck?!”

Doc Ock had to bite back a smile. “Sorry. Too high?” The actuator lowered. “That better?”

Peter 3 nodded. Feeling a little more relaxed, he let himself instinctively dangle upside down from the metal arm. Huh…he had to admit, this was nice. “Yeah. Don’t worry, it’s not your fault. Sometimes I forget those metal arms of yours have a mind of their own.”

The scientists hummed in agreement. “They can be quite a handful sometimes. But in reality, it’s like having four puppies attached to my back at all times.”

As if on cue, the other actuators slithered over to Peter 3, chirping curiously as they closed in. Peter 3 shrunk back a little. “W-Whoa uhm…they aren’t—they aren’t gonna like, attack me or anything, right?”

“Relax, they don’t bite.” Otto paused. “On second thought, technically they do, but you’ll get used to it.”

“Wait, what?!”

“Easy now, Peter,” Otto chuckled. “Before you get alarmed, I must ask…are you ticklish by any chance?”

Peter 3 could feel his cheeks grow warm in an instant. The question caught him so off guard, and already made butterflies fill his belly. “U-Uhhaahm…” he laughed awkwardly, averting his gaze. “Um…n-no..?”

“Hm. Your hesitance and the color of your cheeks says otherwise.”

Peter 3 awkwardly rubbed at his face, as if that would wipe away his blush. “W-Well I’m not hesitating. So…yeah. A-And I’m not ticklish, either.” He scoffed. “I mean, why would I be, right? That’s just not something that really works on me, y’know?”

Otto nodded. “I know, Peter. Which is why I’m gonna do this.”

Peter 3 suddenly squeaked like a mouse as he felt a jab to his side. “AaHHEAA!” Another squeeze, this time to his other side. The culprit? Two sneaky actuators. “Whoa, hey, d-don’t get any ideHAA! HaHAHeheheyyy! Nohohoho!” This time, both curious actuators simultaneously nuzzled against Peter 3’s sides.

The tallest Spidey was starting to lose his balance so he hopped off the metal tentacle. But as soon as he touched the ground, all four actuators surrounded and hovered over Peter 3, their claws teasingly pinching and wiggling in the air just above him.

Peter 3 squeaked and curled in on himself. His arms wrapped around his torso protectively. Air tickles always drove him crazy! It made his spider tingle go off over and over, which made the fuzzy feeling of anticipation even worse!

“Oh, and another thing, Peter,” Doc Ock’s voice cut in. “Your other two partners in crime explained to me how you’re still hesitant to be around me. I don’t blame you, boy. I now I can look very intimidating, but you don’t have to be afraid of me. I can be very fun to be around with, y’know!” He smiled over the sound of the tall Spidey’s cackles.

Peter 3 couldn’t answer properly with his mad giggling and squeaking. He couldn’t believe how teasy and casual the scientist was being! Okay, maybe his other spider bros were right about one thing: maybe he didn’t have to be intimidated by Doc Ock anymore.

But still, he couldn’t shake off the feeling like he had been set up. His question was immediately answered.

“I was also told by my Peter that the best way I could warm up to you was through silly play like this,” the scientist emphasized his point by having two metal arms squeeze at the boy’s ribs. “Since you love to play round and laugh. His words, not mine.”

“WhaHAAAhat?! I-I knew you guhuhuys were uhuhup to somethiHHEEE!! Something eheeHEE—evil when you were tahahahalking!”

“Why, I did no such thing,” Otto innocently answered. “I’m simply trying to show you how friendly and warm I can be. You, on the other hand, have brought this upon yourself by lying to me!”

“WhahAHAt?! I nehehever lied!”

“Mhm, did so. You lied about being ticklish, and I will not tolerate any liars in my lab!”

“B-Buhuhut I wahahasn’t lying! I-I swear!”

“Then lift your arms up.”

“W-Whahahat?!!”

“You heard me. Lift your arms up. If you aren’t ticklish like you say, then clearly this shouldn’t affect you, right?”

“Riiiihihight?”

“Well, then go ahead.”

Being ever so stubborn, Peter shook his head and wrapped his arms even tighter around his torso. “Noho wahahay! I knhohohow what you’re gonna do!”

Otto couldn’t help but laugh at the flustered Spider-Man. “Good lord, you must be extremely ticklish to be this jumpy and giggly.”

“I-I aham nahahahat!”

“Another lie right there! That’s it, now you’re going to get it!”

The four actuators descended onto Peter 3, two grabbing his wrists, making him screech. “NAAAAHAHAHAO PLEASE!”

The scientist actually jumped back at he sudden reaction and quirked a brow. “Too much? I’m sorry, I’ll tone it down if you’re too overwhelmed by this.”

The metal tentacles pulled away like nothing had happened. Otto stole a quick glance at Peter 3, and was sure his heart was going to melt at the sudden look of shock and disappointment on his face.

Was he…pouting?

“Something on your mind?” The doctor asked with a soft grin.

“U-Uhmm….I-I hhhmmffhh…” the flustered Spider-Man averted his gaze and fumbled with his hoodie sleeves. “Y-You don’t—you didn’t have to…necessarily stop…”

“Oh? Is that my cue to keep going?” The metal tentacles were back, pinching the air above Peter 3’s sides.

“W-Whoa! Watch ihihit with those thihihings! A-And what? Keep going?” Peter’s 3’s face flushed as red as a cherry. “You couuuuld if you wanted to…” His lips suddenly curled into a cheeky smile. “But you’re wasting your time ‘cause I’m not even ticklish!” He stuck his tongue out and made a run for it as soon as the actuators descended on him again.

Otto shook his head with a smile at the Spider-Man’s cheekiness. His Peter warned him about how stubborn Peter 3 could be when admitting something like being ticklish. But he also said that was just Peter 3’s silent way of asking for more tickles or to keep going as he always provoked the other person instead of asking for it; he was just too shy to ask the dreaded question.

Otto had his metal tentacles make a grab for him again, resulting in Peter dashing for the door. He, of course, didn’t make it and was once again grabbed and pinned by the actuators. “What is with you lying to my face? You’re literally giggling and squirming already and I haven’t laid a finger on you!”

Peter 3 just shook his head, sputtering more giggles as his blush darkened and reached the tips of his ears. “I-Ihihit’s your freaheeheeheaky arms! Make them stohohop thahat!”

The older scientist was confused at first, but quickly caught on when he saw his actuators hovering over the boy’s body, the claws teasingly wiggling and slowly lowering and pulling away at the last second. “Ohhh I see. You can’t stand anticipating tickles, can you?”

Peter 3 stuck his tongue out in response.

“My goodness, you just have quite the attitude today. I’m guessing you don’t want me to go easy on you then. For that extra lie, you’re getting all four actuators!”

“W-Wait huh? What does that me—HEEEEEEheahaHAAAAAhaha!!” Peter 3 didn’t have the time to finish his sentence because all four metal tentacles attacked him at once. One was squeezing at his ribs, another shoved under his arm, another scribbled at his belly, and the last one was trying to get at his kicking feet.

Despite not being restrained at all, Peter 3 made no real attempt to get away. He just laid there on the floor, squirming like a worm on a hot sidewalk, and cackling like a hyena.

“AaaHAAAAhahaeheAAAAheeHEEEEEEHEE!! HeeheHEEEEheHAAAAhaha!!”

“Interestingly enough, you’re not making much attempt to get away. I don’t even have to hold you down with my extra arms!”

“ShsHDHSHshuhuhut uhUHUP!! AAAAAHH! Wahahahait!! NAAAAAAHAHAHAO!! EEEEEEK!!”

“Oh? Is this a bad rib of yours?”

“YEHEHEHES!!” Peter 3 shook his head madly. “T-Thahahat one’s off limits—NAAAAAAHAHAAA!! N-Not there EHEEEHEHEEE—either!!”

Octavius shook his head with a chuckle. “Is there any part of you that isn’t ticklish?”

“I-I d-HAAAAAAHAHAA don’t knoHOHOW!! *snort*”

“Dihihid you just snort?!”

“N-NOHOHO—*snort!*”

Unbeknownst to them, two figures were watching the playful spectacle from the slightly ajar door.

Peter 1 giggled behind his hand. “Peter 3 does sound like a hyena!”

Peter 2 lightly shushed him. “He sure does. I’m just glad Otto took my advice after all when we left. Well played with you too, little brother; tagging along with me to get those two alone.” He ruffled the younger spider’s hair.

Peter 1 squeaked happily at the touch. “Hey, you don’t think Peter 3 will get mad at us for doing this to him on purpose, do you?”

“Nah,” Peter 2 shook his head. “You know how much he secretly loves to be tickled. Besides, this way he won’t be afraid of Doctor Octavius anymore just like we all once were. Despite the scary metal arms, he really does have a soft playful side.”

THE END (*´꒳`*)

#tickle fic #spiderman tickle #tickletober 2023 #augtickletober2023 #sfw tickling community #sfw twords #marvel tickle #ticklish!spiderman #lee!peter3 #ler!doc ock #marvel fluff #tickle fluff #mushy writes stuff #mushyblushyredhead #spider bros

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five-bi-five-mind · 1 year

Text

Much Needed Distraction

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Jennifer Jareau x fem!Reader

Words: 2.8k+

Genre: Smut

Summary: Finals were really getting to you, especially now that you’re a grad student. Unfortunately, you have a bad case of writers block trying to complete the seminar paper before the deadline. Luckily, JJ is here to help with that, even if her methods may be.. interesting.

Warnings: Oral (r receiving), Strap-on (r receiving), top!JJ, bottom!Reader, JJ being a little bit of a dom...

A/N: Listen I know I took inspiration from my actual situation right now. Is that weird? Maybe. But who doesn’t want JJ to come distract them...

(gif not mine; credit to creator)

“Knock knock.” A gentle voice came from the doorway to your bedroom. You were currently sitting on your bed, laptop resting on your legs, as your back was propped up behind an ungodly amount of pillows. Yet, no matter the number you still couldn’t get comfortable. Not when the blinking cursor of the word doc in front of you felt like it was mocking you.

You didn’t even acknowledge the voice as it repeated. Your eyes were glued to the screen and your brain was still going in circles trying to think of something intelligent to add to the document. You had three days. Only three days to somehow miraculously pump out 15 pages on a topic you weren’t necessarily sure you wanted to study anymore. Not when you’ve been driving yourself a little crazy trying to meet this deadline. At some point, you weren’t entirely sure when the words you were typing started to sound somehow fake. You were that far gone in the haze of academic panic.

“I brought the coffee you asked for.” The voice said a little louder this time. That caught your attention. Your head snapped up immediately upon hearing one single word. You didn’t even hear the rest of the sentence, all you heard was “coffee” and somehow you were convinced your prayers were answered.

JJ smirked, having realized that’s what finally stopped your silent stewing. She knew you were exhausted and stressed, she could see it in your eyes, but she also thought it was somewhat amusing to see how focused you get when you worked. JJ walked further into your bedroom, coffee in hand and her grin grew wider as she realized your eyes never left the coffee cup as it moved towards you. “How long have you been working?” She said as she stood right in front of you.

“I don’t know four… five hours maybe?” You honestly hadn’t been paying attention to the time. The only thing you were paying attention to was that page count as you tried your hardest to meet the minimum requirement for your graduate seminar.

“Jesus,” JJ muttered. “Have you taken a break?” You just shrugged, impatiently reaching out for the cup in her hands. She handed it to you gently, her hands wrapping around yours as yours slipped around it, urging you to slow down a little as you grabbed it. The last thing you wanted was a cup of coffee to spill directly all over your laptop and bed after all.

Graciously, you took a long gulp of your drink, groaning at how good the warmth of the coffee felt going down your throat. It was almost as if you could feel the caffeine starting to wake up your entire body again after having sat on your bed in front of a screen far too long. You kept drinking, letting yourself not think about the paper just for a few brief moments so you could enjoy something as small as a cup of coffee brought to you by your girlfriend. Words wouldn’t even begin to describe how appreciative you were of her in that moment.

JJ just stared at you as you drank, watching as you hummed your appreciation while downing the coffee. She gave you a small smile before softly placing the palm of her hand to your cheek and leaning over to kiss the top of your head. “You’re welcome, I think,” She chuckled as she straightened back up. “So, are you almost done?” You just shook your head and kept sipping on your drink. Your eyes flicked up to JJ again, this time to see slight worry behind the gentle smile she gave you.

“God, I don’t miss college,” JJ sympathized as she moved to sit herself down at the foot of your bed.

“Grad school is much worse,” you grumbled into your cup.

“Oh, I remember,” JJ sighed as she eyed you. Your attention turned back to the word document in front of you. Finally, you felt satisfied with the amount of caffeine you just ingested. With the coffee placed safely on the nightstand to your side, you tried your best to will the caffeine you just chugged to give you the much needed inspiration and strength to continue on with this ridiculous seminar paper. But as you returned to the document and saw the blink of the cursor you felt that sinking, defeated feeling again. “How long have you just been staring at the screen?”

God, how long was it? You had no idea how to answer that. You didn’t really know when you went from being productive, to spouting out absolute nonsense, to finally running out of steam. All you knew was that you had been staring blankly at that screen for a good while now.

“Maybe an hour?” You mumbled in shame, your eyes never leaving the screen. If only you could just will your fingers to type. You had more to say, you knew you did, but you just couldn’t get yourself to put them into coherent sentences.

Your mind was so busy trying to produce something to further the page count in front of you that you didn’t even hear JJ hum “I have a fix for that…” before she started to make her way towards you on the bed. It took her hand finally touching your leg from where she began to crawl from below that finally caught your attention.

You watched curiously as JJ crawled up the bed towards you. With one hand, JJ pushed you to lean further back and then pushed your laptop until it was resting not on your lap anymore, but on your stomach. You tilted your head and gave her a questioning look but JJ just smirked back at you as her hands dragged themselves from your waist to your legs, slowly moving down your thighs.

Her body came back down with her as her hands landed on your knees. With her hands right where she wanted them, she grabbed at you and moved you until your legs were open for her. What startled you next was that she began to scoot even further down the bed until she was laying on her stomach and settled with her head right between your legs.

“JJ!” You squeaked, not at all expecting this to be her next move. “Hey what are you-”

“Start typing…” She mumbled, her lips ghosting over your inner thigh.

“But I-”

“Type.” She ordered in a firm voice. Her tone plus the look she gave you as you peeked over your laptop and down to where her face rested was incentive enough to obey. Suddenly, you found yourself able to type. Your fingers tapped away at the keys and you were actually producing sentences. JJ’s lips kept kissing up and down the most sensitive places on your inner thighs where your shorts didn’t cover and anytime you so much as hesitated on your next keystroke, she took her lips away. It was entirely possible that what you were writing was utter garbage and you were just making things up as you went in order to keep feeling JJ’s irresistible touch on your skin, however you didn’t really care. You’d address that problem when you finally finished and entered the proofreading phase. For now, you just wanted to meet your requirement and enjoy the feeling of JJ’s tongue slowly dragging its way up your thigh to where you wanted it most.

Without any warning, you suddenly felt JJ grab at your shorts and give them a hard tug. You were impressed with the sheer strength JJ showed to lift you in a split second and rip them off of you, even if you did have to act fast to keep your laptop balanced on your stomach.

“Hey!” You yelped as JJ went from discarding your shorts to tugging at your underwear as well.

“Did I tell you to stop?” JJ’s voice was taunting as she finally got what she wanted. You started typing again the moment you felt like your laptop wasn’t going to slide off your stomach and hit the floor or, worse, JJ’s face. And the minute you did, JJ had you completely nude from the waist down.

You couldn’t help the shiver that went through your whole body as you felt her breath ghost your slit, but you were proud of yourself for not stopping. Words kept flowing onto the document and you were determined to keep going. At this point, it wasn’t for your grade or even your own sanity. No, it was for the fact that you knew if you kept going JJ would finally touch in a way you didn’t realize you were dying to be touched.

Finally, you felt her tongue on you. You bit your lip hard to hold back the moan that threatened to escape as her tongue licked up through the entirety of your folds. It was a little too embarrassing how turned on you were from JJ barely even touching you, but when her tongue ran over your clit your fingers faltered and you made a string of typos. It was maybe a little too aggressive when you repeatedly hit the backspace to erase the line of gibberish you just wrote, but you couldn’t help the way your hands were moving. It was a miracle they weren’t just gripping the sheets, or better yet, her hair. Even JJ was a bit surprised that you were still typing, especially when she could feel how wet you were getting with every flick of her tongue.

Your breath was coming fast as her lips wrapped around your clit and you felt her starting to gently suck. You didn’t want her to stop, but you also were really struggling not to let go into the sensations JJ was causing for you. Without much thought, your head tilted back and you felt your fingers start to slow on the keys. However, that didn’t go unnoticed by JJ. Her hand found its way back to your thigh again and it only took one squeeze for you to understand that that was a warning that if you stopped, she stopped. However, the more she was playing with your clit the closer you were getting to an orgasm and while you really wanted to cum for her, you didn’t think you could keep typing at the same time. Would JJ stop when you were right on the edge? You were already losing your mind from this paper, if she edged you tonight too you didn’t think you could handle it.

But then you felt her hands move back up your abdomen until she reached where your laptop was resting. With a gentle snap, she shut the laptop and began to crawl up your body. Part of you was ready to pout, not wanting that delicious sensation JJ was creating to be over. But then she took the laptop from you and placed it on the floor next to the bed.

“I thought you said to keep typing?” You questioned breathlessly.

“I did,” JJ grinned as she started to drape herself over your whole body. “And you did so good for me. I think it’s time for a break and maybe a little reward…” JJ trailed off as her hands pushed your shirt up and off before leaning down to pepper kisses all over your chest. “Don’t you?” She asked as her hips began to grind against yours. And for the first time, since she came into the room you noticed it. As JJ’s hips were grinding into your bare one’s, you realized what was underneath her clothes.

“Why do you have-” you thought to ask. Your head clearing up enough to form at least one coherent thought, despite your girlfriend currently leaving small bite marks across your neck and chest.

“Because,” JJ interrupted. “I knew you’d need the distraction.” Her hands went to her pants, starting to push them down and off. “Now, I asked you a question.” She started as her hands grabbed at the strapon connected to her hips. “Don’t you think it’s time for a little reward?”

All you could do was nod and watch as JJ leaned back enough to grab your legs and pull them over her hips. She had the toy lined up with your entrance in no time, yet she made no move. “Yes,” You finally realized what she was waiting for. “Yes, please. I want it,” you begged breathlessly. Your paper and all your frustrations were long forgotten at this point. All you could focus on was how badly you wanted JJ to finally fuck you. And fuck you she did.

It took her a split second to register your words. JJ herself was too captivated by the sight of you beneath her, wet and dripping, skin flushed from already being worked up close to the edge by her. She could still taste you on the tip of her tongue and she was lost in her intoxication for you from the moment she started. Yes, she did bring the toy so that you might get a nice little reward for completing so much work today and she was planning to use it to get you to relax a little. But what she wasn’t planning for was how badly she needed to be buried inside you the minute she saw how cute and focused you were. She really just wanted to ruin you and have your attention all on her from the minute you walked in the door. It wasn’t her fault that her resolve broke so fast with the way your tongue peaked out of your lips to catch a drop of your coffee, or how you looked adorably pouty when you stared at your computer screen.

JJ tried to start off slow, she really did, but the minute you were filled with her you couldn’t hold back the sounds you were making and it was really hard for her to pace herself when all she wanted to do was make you moan for her even more. Your head fell back onto the pillows when JJ drew her hips back, sliding her faux cock almost all the way out of you before snapping them forward. In this moment you were so glad you weren’t typing anymore, because with each time JJ buried herself into you, your hands squeezed harder at the bed sheets.

JJ’s hands were holding your hips in a bruising grip as she continued to fuck you and the whole time her cock was pumping in and out of you she kept telling you how good you were being and how well you were taking her. The combination of her praises and the way her cock was hitting just the right places deep inside you had you quickly reapproaching the edge. You could feel your wetness drip down your thighs as her cock fucked into you in a steady, yet disorienting pace.

When JJ sped her pace up even more and you felt her nails dig into your bare skin so she could fuck into you harder, you couldn’t help but cry out her name. This only spurred her movements on even more, though. Wanting a better angle, JJ got to her knees, keeping your legs hooked to her hips so she could take you with her and fuck you deeper. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you felt her cock go deeper than you were used to. JJ usually didn’t fuck you like this, but there was something about JJ’s lack of holding back with you tonight that was incredibly satisfying. She was fucking herself into you with as much speed as she could while still maintaining a steady rhythm and your legs were beginning to shake at the intensity of it all.

“That’s right, baby,” JJ growled as her hips snapped into you with more force. “Cum for me.” Your knuckles were turning white from how hard you were gripping the sheets and the room was now filled with the sounds of skin against skin and your moans as you completely lost control of yourself. Within seconds of JJ’s orders, you finally found yourself coming all over her cock, crying out yet again as you did. JJ’s speed slowed as she let you ride out your orgasm. She stayed inside you for a moment as you both caught your breath. After finally being able to take a deep breath, you felt her slide out of you.

“Fuck,” you chuckled as you lay on the bed before her, still naked with your legs spread open. “I needed that.”

“I know,” JJ gave you a cocky grin. “Write five more pages and maybe we can do it all again.”

You didn’t even hesitate to snatch your laptop from the floor. As your fingers found themselves gliding across the keyboard yet again, typing away with impressive speed, you thought maybe this was what you’d need from now on to survive grad school. Lucky for you, JJ was more than willing to give it to you.

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#jennifer jareau x reader #jj x reader #jennifer jareau #jennifer jareau x you #jennifer jareau smut #jennifer jareau fluff #top!jj #wlw #fanfic #five-bi-five-mind

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moonxmagix · 1 year

Text

Daddy's Girl NSFW

Pairing: Frank Iero x Fem Reader

CW: Age gap, teacher frank, student reader, light smut, daddy issues, soft frank, underage drinking, mentions of the word daddy, def sexual tension

Summary: Frank is your teacher and you two hit it off. Y/N has heavy daddy issues and Frank takes you in. He treats you like what your childhood self deserved, safety and love.

A/N: This is VERY long. I wrote 11 pages on Google Docs so I'm very sorry LMAO. It might be a bit wordy and not super smutty if thats okay. I wanted to write something softer in nature. Also apologize if there are any grammar mistakes. :)

Reblogs appreciated!

~^~^~^~^

As I sat there in an uncomfortable school chair, surrounded by the ghosts of my past, I stared out the window that was covered in rain. The day was gloomy, constant thundering and on and off downpour. I tapped my foot up and down while playing with my bunny keychain as my anxiety washes over me. School always made me anxious and hate myself, constantly feeling at battle with myself and others.

It was my senior year and I just turned 18, so all I had to do was wait to get out of here. Kinda like prison if you think about it. Our school had uniforms and if anything that was the best part about this place, not to mention it looked like some old money school for rich kids. Which was funny because a lot of the kids here come from nothing, like me.

My drug addicted mother raised me semi alone, meaning that she constantly had men in and out of her life. My real father left when I was only a few months old so I never had that strong, protective father figure in my life. I craved someone to love me, hold me tight, whatever fathers do with their daughters. My moms boyfriends that were long term, aka 6 months, would try their best to be there for me but as soon as I got comfortable with them they were gone.

I tried to stay out of relationships out of fear that the same cycle would happen to me.

“Y/N? Are you listening?” Mr. Iero said, pulling me out of my daze. My head quickly turned to him, almost embarrassed, “Yes sir, sorry.” He turned back to board, continuing the lesson. Mr. Iero was my english/music teacher, he taught both. The first day I walked into his class I had a massive crush on, like journaling and daydreaming about him crush. I never made advances to him because what would he think?

I can’t get him in trouble and I can’t jeopardize my education for some man. I once again zoned out heavily, staring out the window. I watched as a father checked out his daughter early for school it seems, hugging each other under the umbrella as they smiled together. I sighed, rolling my eyes at the sight. Almost disgusting to me but that's just the jealousy getting to me.

“Y/N? Please pay attention, we have an important test coming up and you can’t miss this,” he sighed, putting a hand on his hip. Everyone turned to stare at me as I got smaller in my seat. When I looked back at everyone else to me they had dark eyes, something evil brewing but also something dead. I know realistically that a lot of the people here never paid attention but were much better at hiding it I think.

“Please see me at the end of school,” he said and a few people let “Ooo” escape their mouths. Thanks Mr. Iero for embarrassing me. I wanted to hate him for that but another part of my brain desired to have that alone time with him. Even a hug from him would suffice my animalistic hunger for him. Just, “I’m proud of you,” would motivate me for the rest of the year.

Class was dismissed and I quickly got out of there but he caught my wrist before I could, “Promise me you’ll be here after school. You can’t ditch like the last time.” I nodded and promised him that I would be back. The last time that happened I left out of pure anxiety, I threw up in the hallway on my way to his class. But safe to say this time I could get myself through it.

I went to my locker to change out books and my best friend Livvy came up to me, “Wanna hang out after school? I wanna get coffee,” she said excitedly. “Maybe, Mr. Iero wants to see me after my last class,” I said, I didn’t want to disappoint her. “Omg again? Did you space out again (nickname)?” she said, lightly punching my arm.

“Yeah, I just hope it’s quick. If so, I’ll make sure to call you when I’m done,” I said with a smile. We said our goodbyes as I went to all of my other classes. I watched the clock as it quickly rang, I took a few deep breaths as I prepared myself to see Mr. Iero. I know it couldn’t be that bad but my anxiety tried to convince me otherwise.

I looked through the glass of the door and saw no one inside so I thought maybe this could be my excuse as to why I didn’t show. “Right on time!” a voice behind me said. It startled me so I turned to see that it was Mr. Iero. I softly smiled as he unlocked the door to let us in. I didn’t see it but I heard him lock the door behind me.

I stood in front of his desk leaning against a student's desk. He stood in front of me also leaning against his desk. I kept my eyes to the ground for the most part, “Are you okay? You’ve been very quiet and dazed in almost every class,” he said in a soft voice. My tense shoulders relaxed, still not sure how to respond, “You can tell me, Y/N.” He took a couple steps closer.

“Look at me,” he said in a more demanding tone. I looked at him and he smirked, I wanted to fall to my knees right then and there. He rolled up his sleeves to reveal his tattoos, “I..I’ve just been going through a lot at home,” I said to put it simply. “Sit, let’s talk about it,” he said sitting in the students chair next to me. I sat down hesitantly, I don’t know if he actually cared about me or what. I guess we’ll find out.

I told him about my mom and everything that I’ve been struggling with. I didn’t outright tell him about my struggles with men and not having a father figure of sorts. But he’s smart, so he could probably piece things together based on how I answered some of his questions. At the end of my story I let a few tears escape from my eyes, he reached his hand up and gently wiped them.

He placed his other hand on my knee, rubbing his thumb on it. “You have nothing to worry about with me hun,” he said sweetly, maintaining tense eye contact. He was such a good listener and never interrupted me. “Your secrets are safe with me, I’m so glad you’re finally opening up to me. Since the beginning of the year I’ve had my eye on you, there’s something special about you, Y/N,” he said, whispering the last sentence.

He grabbed my hand and held it tightly in his. I felt my face heat up like a thousand suns and my heart rate picked up. I couldn’t help but let a smile form on my face, “That’s my girl. No need to be sad when you’re around me. Hey, I’ll even move your desk closer up to mine, yeah?” I nodded, feeling like such a typical schoolgirl.

He looked at the clock, “I should probably let you go now. Here,’ he said, handing me a little piece of paper. I pocketed it in my bag and before I left he gave me a big, warm hug. The smell of cigarettes and cologne hit my nostrils, it was a smell so intoxicating that it would stay with me throughout the rest of the day. I left and ran out of there to my house, it downpoured on me though. It made me feel like I was in a movie of sorts, I let the rain fall and drench my uniform and hair.

I ran inside and went straight to my room to text Livvy, it was Friday so I told her to come spend the night with me. I really didn’t want to tell anyone about what happened but she was the only person I could trust with this information, she understood. She literally has a sugar daddy, she has no room to judge me!

Livvy came over and got settled right in with snacks and cute pajamas. “Tell me everything!” she said excitedly. I giggled, “He asked me if anything was wrong, I avoided but he pried so I spilled everything. And now he’s moving my desk up to his, he touched my leg and hugged me!” We were both laughing and blushing over this.

“Oh! I think he gave me his number,” I told her, remembering the paper he gave me that I still haven’t opened yet. “Bitch show me!” she said excitedly. I got the paper from my bag and counted down from 3, I opened it and it had his number inside. “Text him now!” she said getting my phone from my nightstand.

I input his number into my phone, “What do I say though?” I bit my nails. “Something flirty for sure,” she said, taking a sip of her drink. I started to type: hii its Y/N, miss our time together already xo

“Bitch that's good!! He’s bound to fall in love with you now,” she joked.

Hours went by without checking my phone and it was around 8pm. I checked my phone during our movie and he asked to call me, I sat up straight with my eyes wide. “He wants to call,” I said suddenly. “Oh shit! I’ll turn the tv down and I’ll stay quiet,” she shushed herself.

I gave the phone a ring and he picked it up almost instantly, I put it on speaker phone.

Frank: Doing okay?

Me: yeah, thanks for letting me vent. Made me feel a lot better

Frank: I’m glad, honey.

Livvy looked at me with shock, “Honey?!” she mouthed covering it with her hand.

Frank: Um, I wanted to ask if you wanna hang out tomorrow? You don't have-

Me: Yes. I’d love to!

Frank: What time are you free then?

Me: Umm maybe around 12?

Frank: Sounds like a date then

We both hung up and we’re screaming with joy, I never thought this day would come. Hanging out with a teacher outside of school? Is that legal? I couldn’t back out now, my fate was decided. “What am I gonna wear?” I said, asking Livvy for help. She’s always been the cooler one in terms of fashion, so I can trust her to dress me.

~^~^~^~^

It was 10 am and I had just the right amount of time to get ready. I checked my phone and he said he’d be picking me up at my place. Livvy left already and I sat down in front of my floor length mirror and put on light makeup. I got dressed in a black skirt, sheer black leggings, doc martens, and a white and black striped sweater.

The clock finally turned 12 and I looked out my window to not see a car yet. I sighed with relief because in reality I definitely didn't feel ready. I checked my phone and Mr. Iero said he would be there in 5. I went ahead and stood out front to wait for him.

His car pulled up and he got out to greet me, “Wow, you look great!” he said with a smile. He had on sunglasses and chewed his gum kinda obnoxiously but hot. He gave me a big hug and opened the door for me, his car was super clean surprisingly. “Where are we going?” I ask timidly.

“Downtown, get some coffee and donuts,” he smiled, placing his hand on my thigh. “How’d you know where my house was?” I asked. “Teachers have access to those kinds of things,” I just nodded in response staring out the window. It was pretty cloudy and I was kinda hoping it’d rain.

We got to the coffee place downtown, “This is my special spot, for a special girl,” he smirked. I felt my stomach overfill with butterflies and a sparked joy I didn’t know I could feel around somebody. He got out the umbrella and interlocked arms with me, I looked at him with such content but confusion. I felt like I didn’t deserve any of this, none of the kindness, none of the listening, nothing.

He told me to sit down at a booth while he ordered us stuff. I texted Livvy while sitting there:

Me: Liv i think im in love no joke

Liv: i would be too

Me: were getting coffee rn ill update soon

He came back and sat a delicious smelling coffee in front of me, “Thank you Mr. Iero,” I said. “Call me Frank, no need for that outside of school,” he said, he grabbed my hand that was on top of the table. I looked at him, blushing hard, what if someone saw us?

We talked about the things we both liked and hated, we actually had a lot in common. “You like Elvis?!” he said, shocked. “Yeah and?! It’s a comfort thing,” I defended. “Explain,” he said, taking a sip of his coffee. “Sometimes when my mom was out I’d spend the night with my grandfather and in the morning while cooking breakfast he’d play Elvis,” I said, reminiscing when I actually had a somewhat stable relationship with a man.

I think Frank noticed my mood diminish into something solemn. “Let's grab those donuts, I have somewhere else I wanna show you,” he said, grabbing my hand. He showed me off proudly, it felt like he was telling everyone around him to look at me but not in the way I’m used to. He put his mouth close to my ear, “We’ll have to share a donut, they’re almost out of everything,” he said, placing a kiss on my cheek.

We walked under the umbrella together as we started to share the donut, “Don’t lift a finger princess,” he said while holding the donut up to my mouth. He basically gave me the whole thing while he only had a couple bites. “Why do you treat me like this?” I asked him, curious as to why he is so fond of treating me like…a girlfriend?

“I think you deserve it, Y/N. I’ll explain more later,” he said with such sincerity, gripping my hand tighter. Was this going to be a whole day affair? My mom hasn’t been home for a few days so I didn’t feel the need to tell her where I was, it wasn’t like she was answering my messages anyway!

“What’s wrong hun?” he said, taking down the umbrella as the rain had stopped and the sun came out. “My mom hasn't answered my messages, it's been days,” I said, a little disappointed. “I’ll look after you, don't worry about it,” he said as we showed up to a record store. I gasped as I could never afford to buy my own records, it felt like a dream.

We went inside and looked around, I looked around for a ‘The Cure’ album. As I kept looking I felt a body press up behind me and place their arms around my waist and a head on my shoulder. He placed soft kisses on my neck causing me to giggle, I felt him do the same in my neck. “Find what you need?” he asked. “Yeah, did you?” his hands were empty. “Yeah,” he smiled playfully like he was up to something but not sure what.

“Bullshit. You need to get something or else I’ll feel bad that you spent all your money on me,” I said feeling slight guilt about him buying things for me. “I have you, that’s all I need,” he said, pulling me to the register and pulls out his card faster than I can reach for my purse zipper.

He handed me the bag of my records and we left. We didn’t do anything much except go thrifting and it was already 7 PM. “I have one place left to go,” he smiled, pulling out of the spot. “I feel like we’ve been everywhere already,” I said, whining. “Be a good girl and don’t whine for me, okay?” that immediately put me in my place and I complied. I could see a smirk on his face, he knew what he did to me.

I heard a song on the radio that I liked and immediately turned it up, it was You Get Me So High by The Neighbourhood. “You like them?” he asked. “Love them! I’ve seen them in concert twice already,” I said proudly. Livvy knew I couldn’t afford it but she ever so kindly bought them for me.

After a short drive we made it to our destination, a bar. It was quite crowded, I wasn't even old enough to drink yet. I looked at him worried, “I’m not 21..” I said. “I can get you in darling, don’t worry,” he said reassuringly. I trusted him but I tightened my lips anxiously. He was able to get me in because he was close friends with the guy at the front.

We got in and the music was at a comfortably loud volume. He dragged me to the bar and ordered me a drink but I couldn’t tell you what it was. Tasted great though!

I downed a couple drinks and I basically became a melting mess in Frank's hands. I held onto him for dear life like someone was trying to pull me away from him. I dragged him outside for a cigarette break, I pulled them out of bag and I forgot my lighter, “I forgot my fuckin lighter.” He laughed at my tone and lit my cigarette for me.

We stood inches apart, he held my waist with his tattooed hand. I took a huff of my cig and blew it in his face, “Naughty girl,” he chuckled. He pulled me in to kiss him and our lips collided. The taste of cigarettes and alcohol mixed perfectly with each other. I wrapped my arms around his neck, not wanting to release.

I shared my cigarette with him and he whispered in my ear, “How about you come over to my place for the night?” My heart was beating out of its chest, “Are you sure that's okay? I would need to get my stuff at home,” I said. “We can stop by your place first baby, I do have a few room-mates if that’s okay,” he said looking away embarrassed. “More the merrier!” I joked.

We drove back to my place and I led him up to my room, he sat on my bed and I packed up a couple things. I turned around putting my hands on my hips, “All packed,” I smiled. He patted his hand insinuating for me to sit on his lap, so I did. I wrapped my arms around his neck, “My pretty girl,” he whispered while pushing my hair out of my face.

“I really don’t understand why you like me, Frank,” I said, that feeling of undeservingness washing over me. “Look at you Y/N!. What is there not to like about you? We have so much in common and I can’t get over how beautiful you are,” I need all the reassurance I can get. What if he leaves me? Would another man treat me like Frank does?

“Do you promise not to leave?” I asked tearfully. “What? Of course I do, Y/N. How could I do that to you sweetheart?” he said, hugging me tightly. “We should get going,” he said softly. I nodded and he grabbed my bags for me as we walked back to the car.

We got to Frank's place and it was dimly lit, it smelled of cigarettes and expensive musky candles. I saw band equipment set up, “What’s all this?” I asked. “Oh, me and my friends do gigs on the side,” he chuckled as we walked to the kitchen. A timid man turned around to greet us, he gave Frank a hug and gave me a handshake. Firmly.

“Nice to meet you,” I said shyly. “Franks said a lot about you, nice to meet you,” he smiled kindly and I furrowed my brows a little confused. He talks about me? What did he say? More questions to be answered.

Frank hurried me to his room, it was spacious and had a few of his guitars displayed on the walls. He disappeared for a second and brought back a shirt and pajama pants of his, “Put these on,” I took them. I went into the bathroom bringing my toiletries along with me. I changed into his oversized clothes and washed my face.

I brought out my phone and snapped a pic of me in the mirror sending it to Livvy. She replied almost instantly: not you going home with him !! be safe !! she replied.

I went back out and put my other clothes back in my bag, “You have such a nice room,” I complimented. “Biggest one in the house,” he brags. I hadn’t noticed before but he turned the radio on and it was on a classic rock station. The room was filled with cigarette smoke and incense. Lamps created the perfect sensual ambience.

I laid my head on his soft pillows and Frank hovered over me, caressing my face with his hand. Something came over me, my eyes filled with tears and escaped the corner of my eyes. “What’s wrong princess?” he said, worried. I shook my head, sobbing. Never was I good enough to ever receive a love like this before. Here I had it.

“Tell daddy what’s wrong princess,” that broke me. I couldn’t tell if I was imagining all of this or if it was some sick joke. I straddled his lap, crying into his shoulder. His hand rubbed up and down my back sensually. “I’ve never felt such an overwhelming amount of love and adoration from a man before,” I stated plainly.

He asked me to talk about it so I did. I told him about the men this time, while I did we drank. It got to the point where I only started seeing flashes of my surroundings. One minute I was taking off my clothes, then I was sitting on top of Frank, then throwing my head back and moaning.

I remember seeing Frank go down on me and him forcing my legs open as I was ready to release on his face. Flashes of Frank saying things like, “You're daddy’s good girl…I’ll never hurt you…you’re safe with me…shh you’re okay sweetheart.” His voice vibrated through my skin.

Soon enough I passed out, naked and covered up by the warm sheets. I woke up groggy and still a little drunk around 3 am and had my clothes put back on. I groaned and didn’t see Frank in bed with me but playing guitar across the room. “Frank?” I said, rubbing my eyes. He immediately rushed to my side to comfort me, “Are you okay princess?” he said.

I nodded, “Could you get me some water?” I asked because my voice was hoarse. He brought back water to me and I downed it as fast as I could. He got into bed with me and I cuddled up at his side, holding on for life.

I grabbed Frank's face pressing our lips together, I longed for his kiss and his desire. He pulled away and cupped my face, “If you were my little girl, I’d do whatever I could do for you,” he said softly. “I am,” I stated so desperately wanting him to take me in, live with him, devote my life to him. “I’d even run away and hide with you if I could. You’re daddy’s girl,” he said pulling me into his chest.

To be safe and sound in his heart forever.

#frank iero #frank #iero #frank iero mcr #mcr frank #my chemical frank #frank iero imagine #frank iero fanfiction #frank iero fanfic #frank iero smut #frank iero x you #frank iero x reader #mcr fanfiction #daddy issues #teacher crush #my chemical romance #my chem fanfic

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covencupid · 1 year

Text

I Want You (or The Cabin Story)

Fair warning, I wrote this on discord and then copy pasted it onto docs, so if there are some inconsistencies I apologize, but maybe I just like to keep ya on your toes.

BIG THANKS to @mamamemequeen because I pretty much wrote this in the DMs oopsi.

Danny's had his eye on you. He's been finding himself enjoying the times he interacts with you a little too much. He's got to get you out of his system. A little house call. Once that's done it'll be easier for him to go for the kill. Right?

Pairing: Danny Johnson X Fem!Reader. Use of gendered language.

TW/CW: The usual (stalking, manipulation, threats of violence, actual violence) gore, descriptions of torture, corpses, and murder. Psychological horror, child murder (imma need you to hold your judgement on this one, it's not what you think, but it's also not good), hallucinations, descriptions of visual hallucinations.

Tags will be updated as needed, but to be honest I kinda forgot what I put in this.

I will be posting as much as I can in one go, but it's long, so I might have to upload in parts. Yeah, I'm definitely posting it in parts. This is chapter one.

Word Count is 15k+, this was supposed to be a one-shot about y'all fuckin at the drive-in, I don't know how it happened.

Oh one last thing, there is kinda a prequel/backstory part I haven't finished about Danny and "prom". Whatever you think it is, it's probably not gonna be like that.

Sorry one last last thing that I'm seeing now reformatting this from discord to the docs to here is that I kinda wrote Danny and Reader's POV back and forth but a little inconsistent. I will try to make the changes in POV a little clearer with spacing, but I apologize for any confusion!

Your Place // The Cabin // The Woods

~I Want You~

~Chapter One - Your Place~

Danny waited for the perfect night. A storm was coming. The whole neighborhood was snuggled up tight in their big warm beds and you? You were painting your nails while a gorey Japanese B-Movie played on the small tv in your bedroom. You had no idea you were being stalked, hunted like a deer in the forest.

Danny had to stop and take a look at you first, before he went in. He saw you, legs bent to give you a place to rest your hands while you painted them. God, your legs. He watched the light of the film dance off your legs, following the glow that reached your thighs. How it faded as it dipped to the little peek of your ass from the bottom of your shorts where you sat. He swallowed harder than he meant to. He’d have to readjust himself before he continued inside.

Danny waltzed into your home from the back patio door. Unlocked? Baby there’s a killer on the loose. He stepped into the dark entry way, noting how little the sound from your room carried. That would be useful. He eased into your hallway hearing the lovely lilt of your laughter as he neared your door. The sound made him salivate. He plucked a delicate metal frame of a vintage botanical illustration and let it fall to the floor as he swiftly crossed past your door to the opposite end of the hallway. In a second you were out and making your way for the pesky little frame.

“God you little shit!” you scolded the picture. You had complained to your friend about the framed piece you had been gifted that had a nasty little habit of slipping off it’s nail. Always a bit too heavy. Danny breezed into your room while you degraded the drawing of little flowers. Too easy. You’re just letting me right in, huh?

“And you better keep it down out there!” you called out to the frame as you shut your door on the way back. When your head whipped back to your bed your heart jumped to your throat and fell back down to your gut. A howling ghost stared back at you, reclined in your bed, your nail polish in hand.

“H-how did y-you-” you struggled to find your words and he, seemingly mercifully, cut you off.

“Get in? You let me in, sweetheart. Thanks by the way, really saved me time.” You could feel his smug smile radiating from underneath his mask. Dread chilled your veins. You were frozen by the door. As much as Danny enjoyed the doe-eyed look of fear you were giving him, you were too far for his liking. He pat the bed beside him. “Come on, don’t be shy.”

For a moment it felt like you lost all ability to move. You lifted your right foot to take a step forward but your leg unexpectedly shook. Before you could process your involuntary movement you heard a laugh from the hooded figure lounging in your bed. “How can I have your legs shaking when I haven’t even touched you?”

Heat spread across your cheeks, breaking through the ice in your veins. Indignation rising in your chest.

“You- You’re a murderer! Showing up here in my bed, I’m gonna be scared! It has nothing to do with- I am not-” The words flowed out from your mouth faster than you could string them together cohesively. The sound of his rippling laughter cut you off. You wanted to slap him and wipe off the smug look you knew he was wearing. He crossed his arms

“Hey! Do I look like a threat to you? I’m just hanging out here. Lookin for a manicure, and maybe a better movie.”

You scoffed. “I can see your knife holster from here, not exactly “hanging out” gear. And for the record Blossom of Blood is a cult classic, not that you would know anything about it.”

Danny leaned forward. “First of all, how do you know I’m not just happy to see you? Second, no. You’re thinking of Bloody Blossom, what you’ve got is the cheap knock off made ten years later. Get your facts straight before trying to get all snobby with me.”

You mouth gaped open and closed like a fish. The nerve of this psycho to break into your home and lecture you about your movie choices.

“Hey” The aforementioned psycho snapped at you. Patting the bed next to him more aggressively. You inched your way closer to him. You felt uneasy looking down at him the moment you reached the bed. He sat comfortably nestled in your plush pillows, using a stuffed animal to prop up his arm. You wanted to beat him over the head with it. It would likely be your final act on this earth, but you felt you would feel at peace. “Sit.” There was no space for argument in his tone. Not exactly a command, but still decidedly firm. You sat where he told you to and began to look intently at your hands, gripping each other tight. From your periphery you could see the black mass of his form lean in to loom over you. You felt him delicately take your chin between his thumb and forefinger with his gloved hand. The skin on your arms pricked up with goosebumps. He’s turning your head to look at him as he’s telling you in a sing-song tone “look at me”.

You stare, wide eyes welling up with tears you wanted to keep hidden, into the black holes of his mask. You wish to look so far into them to reach the eyes you felt boring into you. As your eyes remained locked on him, he plucked your hand from your own grip to place the bottle of nail polish in your palm.

“Go on.” he said as he reclined back into your bed, crossing his feet as he extended a gloved hand out at you.

“Uh- you want me to-?” you looked between the bottle of polish and the masked man before you.

“I said I’m here for a manicure, sweets. Come on and make it nice or ya know…” he wiggled the hunting knife in your face. You gasped and grabbed his other hand in an instant. He chuckled as you held his large gloved hand with your comparatively small one. You held the polish right next to it. Does he want me to take off his glove? Paint the fingers? No, right?

Sensing your conflict, he wiggled his fingers in your face. “You can take it off.” He teased.

You put the polish down beside you as you worked the glove off his hand. You placed it on your lap. You felt hot, feeling his eyes rake over you as you gently held his hand, surprisingly warm. The tips of your fingers lightly grazed over his and felt the callouses there. You felt flushed. A killer walks into your room at night… and he tells you to paint his nails? He’s insane. You laid his hand on your lap as you picked the bottle of black nail polish back up and twisted the top off. You held the bottle between your thighs and picked his hand back up slightly. Your hands shook slightly as the applicator neared his nail bed. When you finally laid the first coat down you felt like you could breathe a sigh of relief.

Danny, feeling your unsteady breath reach the top of his hand, blurted out “Don’t fuck up!” quick enough to make your heart jump.

“Fuck! Don’t do that, that’s gonna make me fuck up!” You gripped his hand a little tighter. The feeling of your soft, warm hands on his sent a wave of heat course through him. He chuckled. As you were about to paint the next nail he quickly pulled his hand back and held it in front of you. A small sound of annoyance got caught in your throat. He reached his hand back out to you but pulled it back when you reached for it. You were getting flustered. The way your brows knotted together as the speckles of blush played on your cheeks was just delightful. It was so easy to work you up. He extended his hand out to you again. You stared at him for a second before going to reach back out for him. You looked between his hand and himself in rapid fire succession until you went to get his hand. In an instant he went to whip back his hand but you slammed your free palm into his and gripped his hand firmly until his fingers softly folded over yours. His fingertips rested on the back of your hand. A soft, self satisfied smile danced on your lips as you plucked the applicator back up to paint the next nail. Danny felt the grip you maintained on him. Firm, warm, tender. As you painted the rest of his nails, his thumb slowly ran along the side of your hand, down to graze your wrist. You just needed his thumb, but it continued it’s slow glide along your skin. What were you feeling? Annoyance for sure, he wants something done and won’t even stop moving to let you do it. But the way his thumb caressed the stretch of skin he was able to reach, you felt a flutter in your belly. Stop, what are you even thinking. His hunting knife is dangerously close to his free hand. But should you tell him to stop? Should you try painting it as it teases the delicate flesh of your wrist? Should you tell him he has to stop, so you can paint his nail. And then? Let him continue? Let him run the freshly painted hand up your arm, up to your neck, down to your- Stop. Just. Stop, what are you thinking? This is a monster, in your bed, in your grasp. Think like you want to make it out alive.

Danny can see the muscles of your throat straining as his thumb stroked up and down. It was getting harder to just have you there sitting in front of him. He was beginning to need to close the distance between you. He noted how intently your eyes watched his thumb dance over your skin. You looked entranced, he wanted to see that pretty face up close. Danny thought about his options. The pros and cons flittered about his head but the most overwhelming image was of you, those pretty legs straddling him as his freshly painted hand gripped the creamy flesh of your thigh. Feeling your palm turn clammy, his grip on your hand turned into a vice as he pulled you down to him with a force that wrenched a yelp from your lips. That was nice. He thought. Oh the sounds you could make for him. His other hand went to grip your waist. Your left leg sat between his as the sudden movement had jerked you haphazardly over him.

“What the fuck?” you managed out as you tried to pull yourself up from the place on his chest where your head landed. He smelled like leather and oak. Something else too, slightly sweet mixed with something metallic. Your free hand helped you gain some leverage on the bed. His hand on your waist went down to pat the side of your thigh.

“Move this over, straddle me.” the words made you blush, this time obvious and bright.

You sat uneasily on his lap, scared to put your full weight on him. Modesty? How cute. Danny mused as he grabbed you by your hips and forced you to sit on him. A little gasp escaped you from the force. Danny was drinking you up. The incredulous look on your face, the way your hands fell to his chest for stability. Fuck. Restraint was going to prove much more difficult.

You felt frozen in place. What the fuck. What in the actual ever loving fuck? The screams coming from the movie on your left made it feel all the more surreal. They were pitched up and down and underscored by a synth that harmonized with the wails. Normally this would be your favorite part to point out to the people who you would (force to) watch this with. Usually met with strained smiles and equally strained eyebrows raised to the hairline. You forgave the expression on account of the dizzying fifteen minute chase scene that preceded it. You acquiesced that it was "a bit much" for the casual viewer, but damn was it beautifully shot. God, you wanted to feel normal again. Movies, and painting your nails, your nails. Not the nails of some psycho freak that is making himself comfortable on your bed. He got mud on your sheets. You wanted to reach your hands just a bit forward, just enough to reach his neck and strangle him. But his chest felt broad, sturdy, and his grip felt strong. You didn't like your odds in that fights. He didn't feel threatening though, hunting knife aside. He felt like a boyfriend trying to turn a movie date frisky. God, what are you even thinking. Be normal for the love of everything good.

You defaulted to your brand of normalcy. "The screams in this scene were pitched up and down according to their tone. If you pay attention you can hear that they added a synth to subtly harmonize with the screaming." The words just tumbled out of your mouth thoughtlessly. You weren't even looking at him. Your eyes were locked on the screen glowing bright with scenes of carnage.

For all of the cruelties Danny had doled out, this was true torture. With the glow of the television illuminating her, she looked absolutely divine astride him. He wanted to see those pretty lips part and recite his name like a prayer, instead he heard her mumble out a little fun fact about the movie he was currently ignoring. He wanted to see those lips move again, closer this time. Danny grabbed at her wrists and pulled her down to be inches away from the mask that hid his cheeky grin. Her forearms were resting on his chest, her hands gripped in fists under his chin. "Tell me again, about your movie."

No, no, no. This is not normal, we are actively walking far, far away from normal. Fuck, he's got my hands restrained. His grip is so strong. The angle he had brought you down to made you arch your hips down. Is that? Oh. You felt him. You wanted to ignore it, to ignore him. The masked killer that was terrorizing your town, a man reacting to you atop him. Your body reacting to being on top of him. What are we doing here? What are you even thinking right now. This is not the time for biological responses, he's a killer! He's not a regular guy.

He pat your thigh at your lack of response. "Hello? Movie? Synths and screams?" You felt his fingers flutter at your hip. You tried to collect yourself.

"Right they- uh the director had them mix in synths kind of like a vocoder to play ben-" a sudden movement jolted you out of your train of thought. He had rolled his hips up as he lifted his legs up. The movement, deliberate and drawn out, elicited a yelp in response from you. With the way it had pressed against your most sensitive spot, the squeak you let out had been dangerously close to a moan. A fact that Danny noted instantly.

"Just trying to get comfortable, sorry go on." he acknowledged as he adjusted his grip on your wrists with his left hand while giving your hip a reassuring pat with the other.

Danny's game with his little pet was having an unexpected effect on him. He had anticipated getting a bit worked up with you. A little edging, if you will. Just playing with his food, nothing serious. But the more Danny played this game, the more he felt he didn't want it to end. Looking at her struggling to form words, he wanted to watch her forget the entire English language underneath him. He let his right hand meander back up to her waist, the glove that remained encompassing the last of his strength of will to not flip her onto her back and fuck her right there. No, no, Danny. Let her talk, or at least try to.

What were you talking about? Right, the fucking movie. "The...movie vi- the cinematographer on this... he only made car commercials before this." You felt him chuckle. A rumble you felt pass through your own chest, down to your belly, down further.

"That's not what we were talking about." You could hear his smile through the mask. You were stumped. You felt trapped in his gaze. Your mind felt like it was turning to mush by the second. "The synths? The vocoder...?"

Right, fuck. What was I thinking? You wanted to disappear. You wanted to this all to be some sort of nightmare. Or wet dream. You felt your legs turn to jelly.

"The vocoder, yeah. It was added in underneath the actor's lines because he wanted to make the dialogue sound like it was coming from hell." Your hips ached to move ever so slightly, to tease him back. Getting comfortable, my ass. Nothing about this felt innocent, of course it wasn't. He broke into your home and made you straddle him. What exactly did you think this was going to be?

Focus on her words, Danny. What's she saying? She could be speaking in tongues by now for all he cared. All that mattered was the way he felt her belly press down on him as she breathed and how her legs had splayed further to accommodate him. Danny didn't exactly have an end goal for this night, but when he felt her hips rock a bit her fate was sealed in stone. This night would end, but their game wouldn't. Besides he still had another hand she needed to paint. He met the movement of her hips by using the hand at his waist to help prop both of them up. The hand that held her wrists now supporting her back. The space between them smaller than ever before. He could almost taste her. He had to. He used the thumb of his gloved hand to hike up his mask up to reveal his jaw. Without a second thought, he held the back of her head and pulled her into an all consuming kiss.

You had thought you made a mistake, trying to match him. You went to far, goaded the bull. Now he was going to kill you. When he hoisted the both of you up you thought he was about to deal his killing blow, maybe slash your throat as you sat upright. The strike never came. Instead, he stopped your heart another way. It had barely registered in your mind that you were actually seeing his lips, seeing a part of his face, before they came crashing down on you. He had taken advantage of the way your mouth gaped open in shock when he had lifted you up to let his tongue explore the inside of your mouth. It was far more pleasant than death. He was kissing you like he wanted to devour you whole but had to restrain himself. It would be easier to just let him, and just sit there numbly in his hands. But the way his tongue darted in your mouth you felt compelled to chase after him. Your tongue met his with an equal measure of primal instinct. You wanted to familiarize yourself with the taste of his mouth.

Damn this girl. Danny wanted her to fight him on this. Not for the sake of having her struggle, though there was a measure of thrill in that. He wanted an excuse to be annoyed with her. To want to be done with her. Instead she paid him back in kind, her hands resting on his chest inching up to his shoulders. This night was supposed to make it easier for him to kill her off later. Get his rocks off a bit without leaving evidence to find later. Instead that raw, needy feeling that built up inside him when he saw her only continued to grow. This hunger would not be sated, could not be. It would only continue to fester the more he was apart from her. The only way to keep it under control would be to keep her within arms reach. No distance to make the heart grow fonder, only tight, close proximity to make the crushing feeling turn suffocating. Then he would be tired of her, then he could be rid of her. But for now he had to get her out of here, back somewhere he could really stretch his legs. It almost pained him to break from a kiss so decadent. She wore a dreamy, almost dumbstruck expression, with a flushed face and plush, swollen pink lips to match. He wanted to drink her up.

"After all that you're gonna think I'm a real dick for this, but you'll learn to forgive me." Her drowsy expression gave way to a look of confusion. A silent question answered by an equally wordless blow to the side of her head. Light's out. "Sorry, doll. Gotta move the sleepover to my place."

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