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violetrainbow412-blog · 6 months

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Day 26: drunken confession

Masterlist flufftober 🎀

Another one a little long that I love. I hope you like it :)

"Hey, look who's coming over there!"

Morgan's cheerful voice forced Spencer to look up from the bar and it was then that you could see that Derek hadn't lied when he called you: he seriously was hopelessly drunk.

"Y/N!" he shouted, slurring his words and grinning from ear to ear as he opened his arms to fling himself in your direction. Luckily you closed the distance to grab him to keep him from falling off the wooden bench he was on "How did you know I wanted to see you?"

You heard Morgan let out a chuckle at this, as if he hadn't had to listen to his incessant pleas for him to call you, since Spencer was pretty clear that only under those conditions would he return home.

"Oh, I can read your mind, didn't you know that?" you joked and he, whose reality was completely altered, widened his eyes in astonishment as if he genuinely believed your words.

"I'm sorry for upsetting you, it's just that he can be very stubborn at times" Morgan apologized.

You two knew each other because of your common friendship with Spencer and on more than one occasion members of the unit had included you in their activities, so there was a degree of trust.

"Why did he get drunk, anyway?" you muttered, with the man still in your arms and his head buried firmly in your neck "I mean, he... you know, he doesn't do it because of his streak of sobriety”

"I honestly don't know. He just asked me to join him here and he ordered one cocktail and then another and well, he ended up like this."

That didn't sound like Spencer, for you knew that if there was one thing the man had, it was strong willpower to stay free of anything that would alter his body chemistry. You were suddenly worried that something had happened and he hadn't told you, although judging by the state he was in it wasn't the most appropriate time to find out. Still, you could try later.

"I'm tired, I want to go home" he complained, rubbing his nose against the skin of your bare shoulder. You didn't think Spencer would get so clingy under the effects of alcohol, because of that whole germ thing, so you were slightly surprised to feel how he was holding you so tightly.

"Do you want me to help you carry him?" asked Morgan and after your friend got off the bench you looked at him for a second, checking that with a little of your help he could still stand to walk to your car.

"Don't worry. Everything under control”

"Are you sure?"

"One hundred percent”

"Well, in that case I'll see you later. Bye kiddo, be sure to call me when you're home."

"Bye, Morgan!" he hiccupped cheerfully, waving goodbye to his friend and getting a pat on the shoulder.

You two stumbled to the parking lot, but with enough luck you made it to your car in one piece and once there you were able to throw him into the passenger seat, making sure to buckle him in before starting.

Once you started the engine, you asked your friend if he was ready for you to leave, and since Spencer's entire body was turned in your direction, it wasn't hard to notice his nod to your question.

You waited until you were a couple of blocks ahead before finally speaking, though you knew full well that he would answer truthfully to whatever you were going to ask him.

"Hey, Spencer”

"Yeah?"

"I'm not mad at you, but... Can I know why you drank?"

Out of the corner of your eye you saw him take a moment to ponder what had really been the reason for all that, and you waited patiently, until he finally got up the nerve to say something.

"I was sad”

"Sad?"

"And I felt lonely" he completed. The red light allowed you to turn and look at him, and then you met his big, beautiful, melancholic honey-colored eyes.

"You could have just called me"

“But you knew I needed to see you, right? Why didn’t you ever tell me you could read minds?”

You laughed at his innocence and just shook your head, incredulous to see how a genius had fallen to that level just for a couple of drinks. But you were still worried about what kind of emotional problem your friend was now afflicting and why he hadn't had the confidence to tell you, because after all you were supposed to tell each other everything and support each other. It had always been like this.

You wanted to ask him something else, but you noticed that Spencer's eyes had already closed suddenly, so you thought it would be best to wake him up until you were finally home.

“Reid,” you called softly, once you parked outside the building and unbuckled his seatbelt. He seemed oblivious to everything and for a second you feared you would have to leave him sleeping there until the next morning “Come on. Up"

As best you could, you managed to put his arm around your shoulders and half carry him to the entrance, making sure there were no gossiping eyes when you struggled to open the front door. You thought the staircase would be the most difficult, but fortunately he acquired a certain lucidity that lightened your load after the first step.

“Hi,” he greeted you, speaking too close to your face and smiling from ear to ear, as if he had just noticed your presence.

“Hello, hot stuff” you replied amused and your friend's cheeks blushed violently at your compliment, staying that way until you managed to reach the door with the number 23.

Once inside you managed to lead him to the small bed where he slept and then you let out a sigh of relief; he watched you from where you stood, still with that dizzy expression.

“It was difficult, but we're finally here, huh?”

“I have already been thinking about it very seriously. And I don't think you can read my mind," he said, sounding quite convinced “I mean, although there has been evidence that it's still not scientifically possible, you would need... you would need a lot of things that right now I don't know what they are, but that I know you don't have”

You giggled and then knelt next to the mattress to be closer to him, stretching one of your hands enough to brush his hair away from his forehead. Spencer smiled at your touch.

“You got me, I can't read your mind. Because if that were the case, I would walk in there right now…” with the tip of your finger you gently touched his forehead, bringing a smile to him “to find out what is making you so sad”

“Even if you wanted to, you couldn't. I'm not thinking about that.”

"No? And then what do you think about?” you asked gently.

Your smile was calm and you were very close to him, admiring with amusement the signs of drunkenness that were still in him. Spencer, as much as the situation allowed, was also watching you, although this time there was something different about him. While your friend looked at you fondly every time, now he seemed completely enthralled with you.

“It's not about that”

“Does it have anything to do with your mom?”

“No, she's fine.”

"And then?" you insisted. He just kept watching you “Come on, what is that wonderful mind thinking?”

It took Spencer a second to respond.

"You"

"Me?" You murmured in a light voice. “And why do you think about me?”

You wanted to know what it was about, however, nothing could have prepared you for the response you were going to receive.

“I'm thinking about how pretty you are. And how much I want to kiss you right now”

You unconsciously leaned back, and to say you were surprised was an understatement, because you were completely taken aback. Although you had clearly heard every word drawn from his tongue, your mind was wondering if he had seriously confessed that he wanted to kiss you.

“Huh… what…?”

“I think about how much I want to kiss you all the time, actually. Every time I see you, and smell your perfume, and I see your smile, and you touch me... it's like you drive me completely crazy”

“Y-You don't know what you're saying,” you stammered, feeling those words unreal. “You're very drunk.”

"It's true, but even if I am, I know well what I feel. And I know that I am so in love with you. As you can't imagine."

Even though he was drunk he sounded totally sure of what he was saying and he couldn't do anything but terrify you. Spencer wasn't supposed to be in love with you, you didn't even believe he was capable of harboring feelings of that nature for you. If you were honest, you didn't feel scared by what he was saying, but what worried you most was that you didn't know how to feel about it.

You were barely deciding what would be the right answer when he beat you to it:

“Why did you have to go out with that boy?”

"Sorry?"

“The one from your social network”

Your mind had to recalibrate so you could now focus on what he was referring to and understand that he was probably talking about your last date. You had met this guy online that you had liked and with whom you had made a date last week, just to be able to distract yourself a little from the routine of your work and, with a bit of luck, maybe think of a candidate for the future.

It was obvious that you had told your friend and although you thought he was happy for you, you now knew that, surely, that wasn’t the case.

“Are you angry about that?”

"I'm sad!" he corrected you. The thought of him breaking his streak for you made you feel nauseous and if you could you would have told him it was a totally stupid reason "You're my friend and you're so pretty and you're going to date an idiot that I'm not”

“You're not an idiot.”

“But you don't want to date me either”

You were quiet for a moment, your brain practically burning to find the right words. You were afraid that one bad answer would hurt your friend or that another would give him false hope, because you didn't even know if you felt the same way about him to begin with. The confession had caught you so off guard that you needed time. Just a few hours, or maybe a day, to put in order the whirlwind of emotions that danced inside you so that you can offer a verdict.

Besides, Spencer was madly drunk, how could you trust the words of someone who was intoxicated?

“We'll talk about this tomorrow, okay?” you said at last, reaching out to caress his cheek as if you could offer some sort of comfort. “You're not up to it right now”

“Maybe you're not even real,” he mused, lost in whatever was on his mind “I'm just dreaming about you again.”

“Oh, I assure you, I'm very real,” you huffed, feeling the suffocating weight of the entire situation settle on your chest. “I just don't want to rush things. I need time and you need sleep”

"You love me?"

That wasn't a question, it was a plea. And it was breaking your heart not to be able to answer something to those crystallized eyes that were looking for some positive sign in your own cloudy gaze.

“Spencer, I… Why don’t we discuss it tomorrow?”

“I just want to know if you love me,” he insisted. One of his hands shakily rose to your chest and planted himself there firmly, the tips of his fingers reaching your shoulder.

"Of course I love you. I love you a lot"

"But you love me?"

You just wanted to hug him and maybe give him that kiss he wanted so much, but your mind kept screaming at you that you would be taking advantage of your drunk friend and that you couldn't know if that would be something you would regret.

You took a deep breath to maintain your composure and with the hand that had previously been on his cheek you took charge of holding his hand, still at the level of your heart.

“I will answer you tomorrow, when you can understand the answer, okay? I promise you"

Spencer smiled, defeated, and finally nodded his head. From his perspective there was no longer any hope, your response to what he felt was negative.

“Can you at least stay with me until I fall asleep?”

"Yes, yes, of course. I'll stay as long as you want, honey”

“I like it when you call me that,” he murmured tenderly and quietly, as if he were afraid of saying the wrong thing. But when you smiled at him that worry dissipated.

“I'll make sure to remember it.”

You stayed in silence for a while, which was only broken when you asked him if he wanted you to turn off the light. He said no and then you stayed where you were, still holding his hand.

It took you a bit to convince him that to sleep he had to close his eyes, because he refused to stop looking at you. After a few minutes of him doing it, you began to see the first signs that he was falling into the realm of dreams.

“Y/N” he called to you, just when he was between the limbo of consciousness and unconsciousness.

"Yeah?"

“I hope you love me tomorrow”

You stayed with him until you checked that he was sound asleep, as you had promised, and then you returned home. You didn't even sleep that night, tossing and turning in bed for hours while your brain racked to understand what your heart was feeling.

And at least one thing was certain, that, the next morning, when you returned to Spencer's apartment with breakfast in one hand and his favorite coffee in the other, you already had an answer.

taglist: @navs-bhat @reidwritings @tricia-shifting14 @spencerslove @vivian-555 @r-3dlips @rhiannonhippiegirl @taygrls @simp4f1 @sdddoobydoobydoo @taintedstranger @missabsey

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #dr spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid x you #flufftober 2023 #prompt list #writing challenge #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid drabble

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jxsterr · 7 months

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hey. what if link was so consumed by grief he was angry. cuz a tired link is brilliant, a riddled-with-illness-and-depressed link is even better, but what about a link that is so sick of all of this happening to both zelda and him that he's just FURIOUS.

like he's angry as fuck at how, despite everything they have done to protect hyrule, they're right back where they started. all that effort they put into sealing the calamity, those a hundred years link spent asleep just to be able to live again and those a hundred years zelda spent tearing herself apart just to hold that beast back, all for it to be for nothing. all that effort to dispel the ganon from their time only for ganondorf to appear from another time. it's borderline comical. link has to laugh or he'll cry. he's so tired of this constant fight but he's only tired for himself, when it comes to thinking about how much zelda has suffered and continues to suffer it conjures anger so vivid he feels it in his chest. he's so angry at how much the world continues to punish someone who has done nothing to deserve it, someone who has given her all for the people of this world and more and yet she cannot even feel the grace of peace for longer than a few years. she of all people deserves a break more than anything and he finds himself wishing he'd fallen instead of her.

link finds it hard to process or even care about the goings on in lookout landing after he finally wakes up (again). purah is babbling in his ear about something to do with increasing monster attacks but it's impossible to remain present when his mind is so torn up over zelda, his zelda. gods. she really is gone, isn't she? he doesn't know where she is, doesn't know if she's still breathing, or if he'll ever see those emerald eyes again. it's so much harder this time because last time he didn't even know her—at least not as much as he knows her now. her face was blurry back then and her voice was something so familiar yet so distant, but now he loves her. he knows her inside out, knows her favourite tea to drink in the early mornings and what books she'll pull from the bookcase based on her mood. the sun died that day and so has a part of him.

the air beside him feels so thick with emptiness that he finds himself getting lost in helping the local folks just to fill it, taking up a few errands and joining in with the monster control forces just for someone by his side. weeks pass since her fall and link finds himself stuck in the anger phase of grief. it feels like a disease, he doesn't like how angry he feels but goddess he can't stop feeling this way. it's just so fucking unfair. more often than not link finds himself venturing out of lookout landing deep in the night just to kill. not defeat, not vanquish, but to draw blood in a feeble attempt to quench the burning rage inside his soul. he tears his pathetic excuse of a sword mercilessly through the flesh of unsuspecting bokoblins, slices through the tendons of gloom hands and unleashes the full extent of his fury onto the phantoms of ganondorf's shrivelled form. he yells as he plummets the tip of his sword through the phantom's chest until it disperses into thin wisps of gloom, but it's still not enough. it's never going to be enough. he repeats the same useless task every night yet it does nothing to change anything. he's still angry.

purah's told him about the phenomenas pestering the four corners of hyrule but he can't bring himself to focus on the world just yet, so he goes to mount lanayru. he's waist deep in frozen water with hands clasped around one another when he begins his plea to the goddess. he asks her why zelda was served a fate as cruel as this, and why he seems forever cursed to walk hyrule alone. she doesn't answer. it irritates link, so he repeats himself louder. she still doesn't answer. he's yelling at her now, using the full extent of vocal cords that have barely moved since he awoke, and driving his fists through the spring water in an act of overwhelming frustration. answer me! tell me why we have to endure this! he cries, but the goddess is evermore silent. he chokes out a sob, and then, in a moment of fury, unleashes words undeserving of anyone to hear, not even ganondorf himself. he needs something that will just sit there and take it and right now he's beginning to understand the frustration zelda felt all those years ago when all her efforts went under appreciated. he decides this act is some sort of revenge for how the goddess has ignored them, even if it really isn't her fault; he just needs to feel like he's done anything of use when he's been rendered so powerless. his bitterness only continues to grow the longer she ignores him, until he's exhausted himself from the outburst and stands in the water until his limbs go numb. pathetically quiet, he curses the goddess.

when link learns of zelda's fate after the final tear, he goes missing for weeks. the only noticeable trace of him in the world is the sudden lack of monsters in some areas of hyrule, namely the lynels. the tears had acted as a sort of comfort to know that at least wherever zelda was, she was able to find some sort of comfort or happiness there. the memory of zelda and sonia made him cry hysterically afterwards, of course she still finds a way to speak of him even when they're separated by a millennia or more—but the final tear makes him feel like the air was knocked out of him. he can't even think about it, he tried to ignore zelda's dragon floating aimlessly about the skies for the first few days but the grief became too much. he finds himself cross legged on her snout, braiding blue nightshades amongst silent princesses in her mane, taking comfort in talking to her about the weight of everything on his shoulders. purah's search party is useless when he spends the first week or so constantly by zelda's side, sleeping in amongst the warmth of her locks and offering her buttered apples whenever she perched. "hey, old girl."

seeing zelda this way, knowing she has destroyed herself just so that he may prevail in the fight against the enemy who caused all this suffering.. link vows to become his worst nightmare.

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catfern · 8 months

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LOVER

pairing: abby anderson x reader

music: rose blood - mazzy star

word count: 409

warnings: oral (r!giving), fingering, sub-ish!abby, desperate!abby

an: a short lil piece inspired by mullet!abby bc she deserves love and rest. also just wanted to let u guys know im not dead. still busy but i'll be slowly writing and answering asks and being more active in the next few days :)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

her grip was totalitarian.

anchoring you in her, the pressing of her nails into the back of your neck the only thing that held you through the fog. she was everywhere.

a sorry sight. lipstick kisses pressed into her inner thighs, a gilded path smeared with her own slick. your moans a toxic buzz in her bloodstream, nose bumping against her throbbing clit like a cruel joke, she hisses, free hand running through the harshness of her hair, knowingly pushing herself under, drowning in what you’re giving her. ‘fuck, sweetness.’

you’re so good. gripping at her calves, resting on your knees, giving yourself to her like she wanted.

your tongue was godsent inside her, driving her writhing head into the pillow as she eased you along with her own hands, holding you down and knotting your hair with her touch. she couldn’t keep up with you, overflowing in the electricity you ignited in her core.

‘come on, baby. that’s it.’

abby was never one to surrender control, to give herself up in such a way. but fuck. her very soul was entangled at your feet, around your fingers, your tongue, your feeling. she was at your mercy, fallen like an angel from grace. please, please, please. etchings of words you rarely hear, easing out of her like prayer.

you could see her biceps tensing in the corner of your eye, how her arms flew out into the mess of sheets, unsure and desperate, as they reach for you, and you pull away.

you tease.

she all but whines, collapsing in on herself as she falls back from the edge, looking for you through glazed eyes and trembling hands.

‘come on. come back to me, honey, please. please.’

so unlike herself. abby no longer recognises the voice in the room, the pleading mewl leaving her lips. she should writhe against this feeling of helplessness, of surrender, but she feels your heat above her, your voice like soft star light, if she even knew it,

‘kiss me.’

and you taste like her. a familiarity, like sweet syrup, lip gloss and salt. her hands find your neck in possessive rush, her thumb tracing along the bone, burying her fingers deep in the knots of your hair. closer.

‘please, honey, fuck. i need you.’ it’s barely a mumble, a soft plea against your lips. her words quiet, her grip softening, you can feel abby’s body melt against yours, her hands wandering, you almost take pity.

poor abby.

#sleepy writing is my laziest writing so just ignore it if its bad #love you guys pls kiss me i need it #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson smut #abby tlou #abby anderson x you #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson x y/n #abby tlou x reader #abby x reader #abby anderson the last of us 2 #abby anderson #abby the last of us

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meidnightrain · 1 month

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ALL I WANTED WAS UNWANTED ❞

summary: how does one let go of something they can’t live without?

warnings: reader is gender neutral, angst

taglist: @akutasoda, @ryuryuryuyurboat, @yvnaology

you know, what’s the problem with making a deal with the devil? no one negotiates, and he won’t take a no as an answer.

your eyes couldn’t leave the way his fingers danced across the table, the clinking of tokens ringing in your ears. it’s not the first time that you’ve been hypnotized by his peacock feathers; you would have hated yourself at some point for being so gullible and naive to land yourself here. but then again, who could ever deny AVENTURINE ? how could you refuse when your whole body and soul, every nook and cranny, belonged to him?

it was addictive, hypnotizing, alluring, and destructive. the way you clung to each other fiercely, your fingernails could leave markings on his already scarred skin. scars would heal, but the memory of pain would never fade, even with time.

“what is your choice?” he whispered in a low voice, a tone that you’d fallen victim to so many times before. his striking eyes met yours, and you could feel yourself sinking into them. the spark devoid in his eyes was more proof that you’d never come out for air, for you could never see the rays of light shining out at you as you drowned in them.

it’s clearer than that cursed stone he’s always hated carrying around—a statue of his power, heavy in his arms yet hollow inside. you can’t be together, and he can’t be with you. you deserve so much better; you deserve more than anything he could ever give you. now, he gives you a decision, he’s asking for you to let go of him.

“i know it’s selfish of me, but i want you to stay even if i don’t deserve it. i want you to love me even if i’m not worth it. i want you to tell me that we’ll be fine, even if we’re far from it. i want you to be mine even if i’m not yours.” are the words that threaten to spill from your words in a plea for you to hold him so tight that he could never break free from your embrace. to tell him that you loved him and needed him, like how the ocean needs the moon and day needs night.

doomed, you were both doomed to fall apart. a crash collision that would result in sparks flying at the impact, tearing you both apart and destroying you inside out.

sometimes, you meet the right person, but it’s at the wrong time. what if you were never supposed to fall for each other in this timeline, in this universe, and this was a fluke, a probability so small and insignificant that you would have never imagined it to occur? what if AVENTURINE was never yours to lose in the first place when you had already lost when you first kissed?

you knew that you were killing each other slowly in this gamble, that it was only a matter of time before someone folded. you dreaded when it would happen because you knew that this was the only time that you would win against him.

#🖋️- short snippets #—stellaronhvnters.#・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗#honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr x reader #hsr x you #aventurine x reader #aventurine x you #honkai star rail angst #hsr angst #aventurine angst

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1800jjbarnes · 2 months

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𝐈𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 | 𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲

【Synopsis】 : Bucky was your protector. The king of the land, but even the king has his dark side, and now Ser Rogers, the leading knight, must help you love him.

[Word count] : 2.53k

-> Genre: Smut. Angst. Fantasy Au.

Paring: Vampire!Husband!Bucky x Dutchess!Reader x Knight!Husband!Steve

[Warnings] : Sweat. Mention of dying and death. Sickness. Blood drinking. Cutting yourself (this could be very triggering, please be mindful) some powerplay. Unprotected sex (dont do that). Desperate Dom Bucky. Switch-to sub Reader. Dom Steve. Making out. Swearing. Crying. Some angst. Steve kinda just sits and watches ahah.

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Something was wrong before you even stepped foot in the throne room. All the torches were trailing a thin line of smoke, and a haze had swallowed the moonlight coming from the slightly covered windows. Heavy breathing can be heard from the other side of the room. You can tell it’s Bucky before you even cross halfway to the throne.

“James?” You call out.

“Stop,” comes a weak plea.

You take a couple of steps closer and see your husband curled up into a ball on the throne with a blanket wrapped around him. He’s sweaty, and his hair is sticking to his skin, covering his face. His shoulder moves heavily with each breath, forcing air in and out of his lungs. You reach out a shaky hand to touch his shoulder, but he flinches away from you.

“Jamie,” you say again.

Slowly and jittery, he looks up to you. He’s pale, and his eyes are dark in the shadows. There’s drool and snot all over his face, and he looks as if he’s been crying. You’ve never seen him like this, and it’s scaring you. You don’t know how to comfort him. He’s the Duke of Brooklyn. He’s a leader. He’s never shown weakness.

“I… I don’t know what’s happening,” He breathes out through gritted teeth, feeling pain cloud his judgement.

You clasp your hands close to your chest. “What do you want me to do?” You ask with sincerity. You want to help, you want to make whatever this is, stop.

He looks off for a second before coming back to you. “Steve. Grab Stevie,” he says before curling into a ball groaning in agony.

Ser Rogers, he’ll know what’s happening. You rush off, leaving your husband to find help. You rush down the hallways and across the castle with your dress pulled up high. How unladylike some would say. Finally getting to the knight’s quarter, you bang on Steve’s door. No response. You knock again, and this time there’s an answer from the other side, a very tired answer. The door finally opens, and your other husband opens the door with nothing on. You’ve seen his jewels a thousand times, so you don’t even take any notice in the moment.

“Put some clothes on, Buck needs you,” you blurt out. “He’s ill, and I don’t know what to do!” You exclaim.

Steve’s eyes widen as if he is now fully awoken and moves back into his room to grab some clothes. “Why not grab the doctor!?” He calls back.

“He wanted you!”

With your reply, he only looks even more confused. He slips on his pants and then a belt along with his knife. Just in case. Once dressed, you lead him all the way back to the throne room. The smoke has cleared since the doors have been opened, and you can spy that Bucky has fallen off the thrown onto the floor. He’s still wrapped up in his blanket and breathing heavily. You and Steve rush over to him as an uncontrollable fear squeezes your chest.

Steve kneels down and rolls Bucky over with a hand on his shoulder. Their Duke shouts in pain as if the touch of another is tormentful. Bucky sits up and shuffles backwards until he hits the throne with a huff. He looks at them, and you’re able to finally see it. His eyes shimmer a scarlet red. They look to you as if you’re just prey and nothing more. His heavy breathing stops, and it’s almost as if his eyes narrow down on you, ready to strike within seconds.

Before he can do anything, Steve steps in between you and the Duke. He forcefully places his hand on Bucky even though he hisses in pain, trying to get away from him. But he holds him in place as he moves his neck to one side, then the other, shaking it side to side. A sharp breath is taken in like Steve is shocked to see something. You can’t see from where to stand, but it must be bad.

“It got you,” Steve curses.

“What? What got him?” You ask.

“No,” Bucky almost whimpers. “Get away from me before I hurt you.”

You step around Steve to see what he’s looking at. His fingers brush over a red bite mark on Bucky neck. It looks painful, and there’s dried blood all around it.

“What’s happened,” you ask again. You have the right to know.

“I’m a fool,” Bucky says before covering his head with his blanket, hiding himself away.

Steve sits back with his knees to his chest. His gaze is hazy, he’s thinking, maybe overthinking. You kneel down next to him and place your hand over his. He slowly looks to you, staring at you for the longest time.

“On the brink of dawn today on our way back from South Brooklyn, we were attacked. It was only one man, and he took down five of our finest soldiers,” he tells out, looking off as if reliving the day. “This man separated us, and I lost sight of our Duke for only a minute. Just one... But I guess that was all it took.”

“Who was this man?”

“No.” He looks to you. “What was this man. I’ve only heard of tales in the north of these creatures. These creatures that live off blood, and with it, they have a strength that is beyond any man. But they crave blood, and that’s what this creature was doing. He drained my men of their blood as I saved our Duke. I… I had to leave them there to save him.”

“Why didn’t you tell me this happened?” You ask, more worry swelling up in your throat.

“We didn’t want to tell you of this attack to not worry you,” Steve admits.

You look back to Bucky cowering away. You don’t feel disgusted for what he is… or what he’s becoming. You feel pity, and you still want to help him. You reach out and move the blanket away from your husband’s face. He flinches away, but his red eyes meet your gaze. He expects to see anger, disgust, or even fear. But none of that shows in your face. Worry is what he sees. Worry for him? But why?

“You don’t need to hide yourself. Tell me how to help,” you offer him your understanding.

He opens his mouth to talk, but he shuts it, thinking his words over before he speaks, “I can’t stop wanting. Everything is so painful. I can feel and hear everything and…” he trails off, looking at your chest, “I can hear your heart. I can hear your blood rushing through it.”

You can feel your heart quicken a little at the thought. But still, no fear comes across you. This was your Bucky. He wouldn’t harm you. And Steve is here if anything goes sideways. So you do something that you never thought you would.

You grab Steve’s knife from his belt and hold it out. Bucky’s eyes widen, and your other husband begins to protest, but you stop both of them with a raised hand. You are not some damsel that needs to be protected. All you’ve ever wanted to do was help. With Steve being a Knight of Brooklyn and Bucky being the Duke, you have never been able to feel your worth. You’ve kept it to yourself because you knew that both of them would say that you need not worry. But you do none the less.

You hesitate before you cut on top of your arm. You don’t want to harm your own hand or cut too deeply in case you bleed out. It hurts. The pain has you gasping, breathing loudly. The knife is like a fire that won’t stop. The blood already begins to pool and dribble out of your wound. You look over to Bucky to see he’s staring at the blood with wide eyes, pupils dilated to small dots.

“It’s alright,” you say as you hold your arm out.

With that command, he grabs you and latches onto your arm. You can feel his teeth clamp down, but it isn’t painful. The painful part is him sucking at the wound. Drinking in the blood. but underlining a pleasure deep within. Maybe you were becoming delusional, but that didn't matter at this moment. Steve grabs onto your other arm as support, his eyes never leaving Bucky. You breathe heavily, controlling yourself as your arm burns a heavenly sensation.

The blanket drops from Bucky’s shoulders, and you realize that he’s naked under it. And he’s growing hard. You can feel your face redden at the sight.

Bucky let's go with a gasp, inhaling deeply before coughing. He stares at your arm before touching the blood that’s smeared over his mouth.

“Y/N,” Steve breathes out. “This can’t be good for the Duke.”

“Do you feel better?” You ask Bucky, ignoring Steve at the moment.

Bucky nods with a short yes before quickly wiping his mouth with the blanket. He then rips a part of the blanket off with a strength you’ve never seen. He wraps it around your wound tightly and you hiss at the discomfort.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky apologises.

You grab his face and look up at him. He winces at the touch but leans into it after a couple of seconds.

“There’s no need to be sorry,” You assure, bringing him in for a kiss, letting him know it’s alright. That there is no fear towards him. That he is still your husband and lover. You taste copper as you deepen the kiss and grip his hair in your fist.

He pulls away and looks at you, “Please, I… I need you right now.”

Steve chuckles, “Why don’t we take you’s two to your room?”

Bucky shakes his head. “No, no. I need you here to make sure I don’t hurt her. As an order from your Duke,” he says as if he’s out of breath.

After a while of staring at Bucky, clicking in his head on what’s going on, and then looking at you, he agrees. In all honesty, you’re a little turned on at having Steve watch while Bucky takes you. But this shouldn’t be a funny matter because Bucky is now something different entirely and doesn’t know his own strength enough that he needs Steve here to help. He’s desperate as well, and desperation can be a dangerous thing in itself.

Bucky is on you as soon as Steve agrees. He’s kissing your neck and grazing his newfound fangs over your skin. The feeling goes straight in between your legs. You shuffle back into Steve’s lap, and Bucky follows you as if he is stalking your body. The blanket is long forgotten, and Bucky towers over you on his hands and knees. He rides up your night dress with one hand, all the way to expose you to the cold air. You don’t wear anything underneath, for good reasons such as now. This was something Bucky taught you.

Steve watches intensely at the flashes of the fangs that Bucky keeps grazing over your skin. He holds onto you tightly so you don’t slip away, or so Bucky doesn’t drag you from him. You feel a light prick of the fangs, but they’re gone before you know it. You finally opened your eyes, you hadn’t realized you'd closed to see Steve grabbing the Duke by his hair.

“Watch yourself,” Steve says firmly. “Don’t bite, my Duke.”

Bucky nods vigorously before Steve lets go. One of your hands comes around and grips Steve’s thigh while the other is placed on Bucky’s chest.

“Careful, love,” you whisper up to him.

He looks back to you, gazing over you with confusion, then care. He brings his face down to your neck for your comfort. With the hand on Bucky’s chest, you bring it down to your pussy and quickly open yourself up. You’re already wet and it’ll have to be enough. With a gentle hand, you guide Bucky’s cock into you. He utters and whines into your neck. A sound you’ve never heard from your Duke but it only brings warmth to your chest.

Bucky begins at a brutal pace that has you gasping at every thrust. He moves you upwards into Steve’s lap further and further until you’re almost in a sitting position. You bring his head out of your neck and make him look at you.

“It’s okay, calm yourself. Easy, love,” you assure him, kissing his cheek and the corner of his mouth.

He slows down to a pace that sends a shock of pleasure through you with each push. He rests his forehead against yours as you grab Steve’s legs again. You feel his hard-on against your back, and it brings a small smile to your face. You push Bucky’s face back into your neck as he speeds up a little to ride out his high. You look up to Steve, who swallows thickly.

“You can have a go later tonight,” you tell him through pants as you pat his cheek softly. All he can do is stare at you as his face flushes a bright red. He blushes so easily, you thought.

Bucky grabs your hips a little too tightly and lifts them a little to get a better angle. You moan out loudly as he hits your spot over and over again, sending thrills through your being. You can feel yourself growing closer with each thrust. The pain is something you never knew you would enjoy. The searing grip of his hands is definitely going to leave bruises, but the thought of it strangely excites you. You become louder and louder at just the thought, uncaring of anyone outside the throne room to hear.

The pleasure rips through you all at once, crashing into you like a wave at the beach. You gasp out loud and grab onto Bucky tightly as he keeps fucking into you through your orgasm. It’s blissful pain that has you panting and whining. Bucky’s thrust becomes stuttered and you know he’s close. He fucks into you once more, and then he dives deep, coming inside of you with a shuttering breath. The warmth that comes with his load sends a shiver down your spine.

The both of you are left panting, and slowly, you collect yourselves. Bucky pulls out carefully, but he stays lying atop of you. Steve keeps holding onto your body as if something else is going to happen. Worry is still written on his face as he stares down at Bucky.

“We’ll work through whatever this is, Stevie,” you try and calm your lover's nerves. But he is a Knight for a reason. It is why he is a knight in the first place. Bucky’s shoulders begin shaking, and you feel a wetness fall on your collarbone. You lift his head up once more to see hot tears rolling down his face.

“Shh, shh,” you hush as you wipe his tears away. “It’s alright.”

You bring him in for a hug as he sobs. You rub his back as you think of the future. Of what’s to come. You’ll have to become the stone for both of them. None of you knows what Bucky truly is now only other than the folk tales that whisper in the night. It’s all a learning experience for all of you. But you’re ready for the challenge that comes with this. and so were they.

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notyashiro128 · 4 months

Text

Kisses in bed.

Drunk Megumi x f reader

Warning: fluff, fluff, fluff, swears, kinda smut, drunk Megumi ⸜( ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ )⸝♡

Enjoy:p

Megumi's love language is physique touch and omg sometimes he will do anything just to hold you or even just kiss you

But this time idk why When he went to the supermarket to buy some snacks, he found a new type of sweets, but he didn't know that they were alcoholic candy. Unfortunately, he also bought a lot of them. He wanted to share them with you (sweet boii ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧)

When he returned to his dorm, he wanted to taste one, but the taste was too strong, and he wanted more until..... he ended up eating them all and got drunk.

he called you at 3 am asking you if you could come to his dorm

"hey love could you please come to my dorm it's a very important thing," Megumi asked with his soft voice" It's fucking 1 am Let me sleep," you said that sleepy " I can't sleep without you please", " no goodnight " you hung up the phone on his face and went back to sleep peacefully wearing his hoodie that you stole it from him that time and black short.

at 3am

Without any reason, you woke up confused why? cuz you found Megumi's arms around your waist. You sigh before Megumi brings you closer to his chest "You up?" He said playfully "How did you get here and what are you doing here?" You asked sleepily "Don't forget that I have a copy of your dorm keys, and why can't come here am I not allowed to sleep with my girlfriend or something ?" "Oh, I forgot." You turned to Megumi's side and placed your head in front of his chest. Megumi noticed the saliva on your cheek.

Note: Sometimes when you sleep, saliva drips from your mouth.>_<.

Without any warning, Megumi licked your cheek "Gumi what are you doi-'" Megumi pressed light kisses on your lips... he couldn't help but notice how soft your lips were, you put your arms around his neck and he put his hand on your waist bringing you closer to him, Megumi starts kissing you more passionately (wet kisses) he loves the taste of Your cherry lips but he Can't control himself you could taste the Alcohol in his mouth 'is Megumi drunk?'You said it to yourself

He starts giving you kisses all over your neck, you put your hand on his hair and play with it while he gives you hickeys "You're making me crazy y/n" he signed, Finally he finds your sweet spot "Gumi- ahh" You start moaning "Did you like that?" He said while looking into your eyes "Mm" You nod "but Gumi stop your plea-"

He interrupted your words by giving you a kiss in your sweet spot" I can't get enough of you" You were blushing so bad as Megumi.......

he kissed you on your forehead "You are" and one on your cheek "So" and another one on your tip nose "Cute" and the last kiss on your lips "Wearing my hoodie", "What.." you said blushing, "I've been looking for that hoodie and you turn it into a pajama I didn't know that you are obsessed with me that much y/n~" he hugged tight" my y/n~"

"Megumi I'll ask y-" "It's Gumi for you ma love," Megumi said softly "Gumi are you drunk?" He didn't answer you "Gumi?" You raised your head to find him asleep. You took a deep breath, “Good night,” so you could fall asleep as well.

In the nest day 10:36 am

You heard a loud sound as if someone had fallen. When you opened your eyes, you couldn't find Megumi next to you. He was lying on the ground. "Shit." He cursed. "Megumi, are you okay?" You said, worried about him. "Why didn't you wake me up?" Megumi looked at you in surprise. "What?" You said." Are those hickeys in your neck?" He said it shyly, your entire face became red with embarrassment. “Did I do something yesterday? I don’t remember anything.” “Damn, my head hurts.” oh I remember Megumi Was drunk last night "Megumi, did you drink alcohol yesterday?" You asked him as you looked at him standing and sitting next to you. "You know I'm not a big fan of alcohol and we're still underage," he Soft said. "But yesterday you were drunk." You said it with a laugh.“No way.” He pulled out a candy wrapper from his pocket." All I can remember is that I ate a lot of this. “Megumi, this an alcoholic candy.” You said while laughing. “stop laughing. Tell me what happened yesterday.”,

" Don’t worry, don’t worry. We were just kissing each other. I didn't know you couldn't sleep without me" you teased him Megumi blushing. You gave him one last kiss on the lips, “I love you, Megumi.” He gave you another kiss, “me more.” The kiss was interrupted by the sound of a knock on the door. Nobara was at the door.

"y/n....y/n girl open the door Today is a holiday, let's go shopping" She started knocking hard on the door." Come on, girl, get up". You and Megumi were silent. Megumi went to the bathroom to hide while you tried to put the foundation on your neck, but you couldn't hide the hickeys, so you put on a scarf and opened the door "Good morning nobara" you said that smiling "Finally let's go shopping" Nobara was confused "Why are you wearing a scarf", "oh hahah I just felt cold. Yesterday" "weird but Okay be quick. I'm waiting for you at the exit. Don't be late. If for breakfast, we'll eat outside. There's a shop that sells crepes." She said while looking at her phone "Ok see you" you closed the door Megumi was still in the bathroom holding his laugh "open the door" you Said that Coldly megumi left the bathroom " iam sorry" he hugged you "no it's okay but ill have to go with nobara you can stay here I dont mind " you said that softly "okay I'll stay here" he said that smiling "I'll go with nobara shopping I'll change and go meet her" you said while you are still hugging him "let me go" Megumi hugged you more tightly "gumii" you insisted

"Fine" He left you , You went to change your clothes, and when you came out, Megumi came out and kissed you on the forehead and said, "Don't be late. I'm here waiting for you. Okay."

Ends 🦦✨💮

Im tried y'all helppp

Any requests???

#megumi fluff #megumi x reader #jjk megumi #megumi fushiguro x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro #fushiguro megumi fluff #megumi #megumi x female reader #megumi x you #fushiguro megumi #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu megumi #jujutsu kaisen megumi

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subbing-for-clones · 1 month

Text

The Defective Jedi

Chapter 1

Word count: 2.2k

Trigger Warnings: None really, just some fighting

Every day you tried to forget and yet almost every night you remembered. Wandering through the crystal caves of Ilum was horribly cold and felt so lonely. You were never particularly strong with the force but you always felt it. That connection between all things living and the energy it permeated, but when you entered the cave you felt, nothing. Why did you feel nothing?

You heard the other younglings yipping in happiness and laughing in triumph as one by one they found their kyber crystals and still, nothing called for you. Time was running out before the entrance became a wall of ice with no escape and even as a child you accepted defeat before you accepted death. You were the last to leave and the only one who was left empty handed. You would remember the disappointed look of Master Yoda forever, his eyes turned to the snow beneath his feet with a pained look before he looked back up at you.

It wasn’t long after that you were sent back home to Lothal. You had taken your parents pride and sullied it with failure and you don’t think they ever forgave you for it. It was true, you had failed before you even really got started. Your connection to the force just wasn’t strong enough to be a Jedi.

Still, you refused to let the connection go. You spent your formative years practicing the techniques you were able to learn in your short time studying under the jedi. Hours meditating every rotation searching for that warmth. You did find it; you could still feel it and so you taught yourself as much as you could.

Once you were able to venture out on your own you left Lothal and your parents’ resentment behind. Never really setting up a home; you joined a bounty hunter’s guild instead and used your abilities to become a fairly prolific hunter. It was during these years that all hell broke lose as war erupted all over the galaxy.

Only one year in and it wasn’t looking good. Hundreds of Jedi had fallen to the separatist forces and they needed help. This was when a desperate plea rang across the galaxy for the aid of anyone with force sensitive capabilities to come and join the fight for the republic. Whether it was out of the desire to help or need to prove yourself to the ones who threw you out you weren’t sure; still you answered their call.

You were tested and trained in a group of others with similar stories to your own under several rotating Jedi. At the end of your training, you were assigned to be exactly what you already were; a fighter. You were assigned to various squads as aid and back up; using your intuition, strategy skills and your fighting expertise on the battle field with the clones. You’d never hold a rank above a grunt but you didn’t care. Every victory was a curse on the Jedi for giving you up.

After months of rotating between battalions you were about to receive your permanent assignment. Clone Force 99, a rag tag team of four, apparently defective, clones. The irony didn’t escape you.

“Why are we getting a Jedi?” Hunter asked the hologram of Cody. The others standing back but still in view of the commander.

“She’s not a Jedi, she’s one of the force sensitives the Jedi asked to join the cause. She doesn’t hold rank over you, you’re still in charge.”

“I don’t like it.” Sneered Crosshair.

“Well, you don’t have much of a choice. The higher ups want these people sprinkled out through all the squads in case of a Sith attack. The Jedi worry about them rising up with the appearance of a few and quite frankly, no clone stands a chance agianst them. They can wipe out battalions.”

“When is she joining and for how long?” The Sergent was growing impatient and didn’t like the idea of a new member being added to their group.

“She’s waiting on Kamino for you now so you’ll meet her upon arrival, she’ll be with you until the war is over or until she runs as fast as she can away from you.” The commander had a small smirk on his face that Hunter mirrored. The idea of sending a Jedi, or whatever, running amused him.

Once they touched down on Kamino three out of the four were sightly on edge with the exception or Wrecker who seemed rather excited. He was generally the most welcoming. The worry melted away as soon as they laid eyes on you. You really didn’t look like a Jedi at all. You looked like an operative. Instead of a robe you wore black armor and in the place of a lightsaber at your hip, you had a blaster and a large curved vibro-blade.

Crosshair couldn’t help but eye you up and down the armor looked good on you. You took each of them in once you took your helmet off and introduced yourself to your new companions, a dance you’ve done before. Wrecker was kind enough to grab the two crates of your belongings and load them onto the ship. There wasn’t much time for pleasantries before you received your first mission. You were to extract data from an outpost on Teth and upload it straight to Cody. Information about prisoners of war and where they were being held was your main objective. Anything else was an added bonus. You all loaded onto the ship after eating a hearty meal in the cafeteria.

In the back of the ship next to the bunks you unpacked a few things from your crates.

“Whatchya got there?” Wrecker asked excitedly.

“Ill eat a loth cat before I sleep in GAR issued blankets.” He laughed heartily at your response and left you to continue. You didn’t have any photos to hang or many personal items at all for that matter but that’s how you’ve lived for the last few years anyway.

Once you were finished you made your way to the common area where the clones were discussing strategy. Quietly you took the empty seat between Tech and Crosshair. The outpost was situated in the middle of the jungle. Intel reported minimal guards as it wasn’t a main base but still enough that you all decided stealth was your best option.

Once the plan had been formulated they all looked at you expectedly.

“What is it?” you asked.

“So why didn’t you become a Jedi?” Tech asked outright, Hunter elbowed him but didn’t faze the goggled soldier.

“I tried but, well they decided I wasn’t strong enough. I’m closer to the force than most people but not close enough to be a Jedi.”

“You’re defective like us!” Wrecker shouted with glee, earning an elbow from Hunter as well. You actually laughed a bit.

“Yeah, you could say that. I’ve used my abilities as a bounty hunter since I left Lothal until I joined the GAR.”

Crosshair watched you out of the corner of his eye. You really weren’t what they thought you would be at all. You weren’t a religious zealot you were just someone trying to find their way in the galaxy like the rest of them. He admired that, the honesty too. You weren’t trying to be something you’re not.

That night in hyperspace you tossed and turned in your new bunk. Nightmares from close calls on a hunt filled your mind. You were often reminded of the times you came close to getting killed before a mission. Eventually you gave up and made your way toward the cockpit. You enjoyed meditating under the blue streaking lights. You were surprised to see that someone had beat you to it. The lithe handsome sniper sat in the pilot’s chair cleaning his fire puncher and mouthing a tooth pick.

He looked up at you slightly taken aback by your appearance. Quickly he composed himself and half waved his arm at the other seat as a silent invitation.

“Sorry for intruding, I just couldn’t sleep.”

“You’re not.”

You were starting to like the way words seemed to slither off his tongue. You nodded a thanks to him and turned to watch the stars soaring by at light speed. Both you sat in silence for a few minutes before he opened and shut his mouth, wanting to ask you something but Cross wasn’t sure if it was out of turn.

He mentally shrugged and asked, “So why did you join the GAR?”

“Is one part brave three parts fool a believable answer?”

“I doubt you’re a fool.”

“Well, we’ll see if you keep that opinion,” you chuckled and earned an upturn of the corner of his mouth.

“Honestly? I found it ironic that the Jedi needed our help now. I don’t hold too much resentment agianst them but I do want to prove myself as valuable. Besides, things make sense out here.”

“How so?” He turned in his chair to face you and put his rifle down for a moment. You glanced at him and shrugged your shoulders.

“There’s no confusion right now. We fight agianst Separatists and clankers. I’m sure there are good people on those planets but this is the side I chose to fight for so that’s what I’m going to do.”

Crosshair digested your words and offered “We didn’t get a choice.”

“If you did, what would you be doing?”

“That’s a difficult question to answer, I’ve never let myself be hypothetical like that before because there isn’t a choice. I.. We’re property of the GAR just like my rifle and this ship. Don’t tell Tech that though, it’s his ship in his mind.”

You giggled a bit at that and nodded your head in understanding.

“I spent so much time hunting and fighting bounties that this just seemed like a natural course of action. I can’t see myself doing anything else instead now.”

Crosshair picked up his fire puncher again and resumed cleaning it. You watched him for a while before turning back to the lights and closing your eyes. You reached out through the force trying to feel the Purgill you swore you heard. What you didn’t sense was Crosshair watching you intently.

You were going over the mission plan one last time while Tech was putting down the ship a few clicks away from the objective point. The jungle terrain was difficult to get through but not too much of a problem. The closer you got the more the hairs on the back of your neck stood on end. Cross left your group close to the outpost to climb one of the giant trees for a better vantage point.

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” you whispered to the Sergent.

He nodded in response, seemingly sensing something as well. The post was supposed to be guarded by droids with a few officers scattered throughout but something was off. No perimeter defense and no guards posted outside. Your group made their way around to a side door shown on the schematics and while Tech was overriding security, you Hunter and Wrecker kept watch. You could Feel Crosshair’s eyes on you and it gave you an overwhelming sense of security knowing he was watching over you.

Three droids were posted on the inside of the door and as soon as you were in Wrecker crushed one agianst the wall, Hunter stabbed one in the chest and you took the last one’s head off with your long viroblade. Quickly you dashed in and made your way through the base looking for a data port. Tech found one on a lower level and plugged in, searching the database until he found what he needed.

“It seems there are around fifty clones being held captive for questioning on a moon in the outer rim. There are also schematics for the spider droids here…” Tech prattled on interesting things he was downloading until Hunter shushed him and signaled for him to hurry up. That’s when the alarm sounded.

“We gotta go, now.” You stated with certainty. Trusting your instinct the boys packed up and started running back up to the way out. Once the door was insight, a wall of droids emerged and started firing at you. You fell back around a corner and started shooting them with your blaster looking for a weak point in the wall.

“Wrecker throw a smoke grenade,” Hunter barked.

“On it!” Wrecker tossed two creating a large fog that allowed you to step out, you reached out your hand and with a little struggle, used the force to loosen a wall panel until it flew into the side of the droid squad, pinning them to the opposite wall.

“HA HA NICE!” Wrecker shouted.

The four of you ran like hell out of the outpost to find several fallen droids, courtesy of the reliable sniper.

Once the five of you were back on the ship and Tech was taking off Wrecker was excitedly telling Crosshair how you threw a wall at a bunch of droids, taking out ten in one go. There seemed to be an impressed glint in his eye.

“That was good work back there,” Hunter told you sincerely. You smiled and thanked him, watching as the data was sent through encryption straight to Cody to do with as he saw fit.

Your first mission with the squad, a success you exchanged a smile with the sniper and sat in your victory.

#crosshair x reader #the bad batch x reader #the bad batch #crosshair #no y/n

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kaleldobrev · 8 months

Text

Shiny New Toy (3)

Pairing: Demon!Dean Winchester x Fem!Virgin!Reader

Summary: Dean finally fills you up just like he promised

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Age Gap, Cursing (15x), Smut (Fingering, P in V), Unprotected sex (Remember to wrap it up kiddos!), Creampie, Non-Con (If you squint)

Authors Note: Hope you enjoy part 3 of my Demon!Dean smut mini-series! | I think there's probably going to be just one more part | 18+ only please | MDNI | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

Shiny New Toy Masterlist

“Dean…” Your voice was barely a whisper. It was so inaudible, that you weren’t even sure if you had even said his name out loud or not.

“Y/N…” His tone had almost matched yours, as if he was making fun of you for the way you had just said his name.

“Please…” Your voice slightly louder than before, but still very much low in tone.

“Please what baby?” He asked, his volume still matching yours. He reached out and started caressing your cheek with this thumb; the action making you shudder.

“I…” Your chest was tight, and there was a giant knot in your stomach. You were struggling; your thoughts and emotions scattered. The man in front of you was a complete stranger to you, despite having the face of one of your best friends, someone that you had fallen in love with. The Dean that you once knew was gone; there wasn’t a hint of him anywhere. In all other circumstances, you would have wanted Dean to have sex with you. Losing your virginity to Dean was something that you often thought about; even almost taking him up on his offer to take your virginity. At least it would have been with someone that you trusted.

“You have to use your words Sweetness.” He said, tilting your chin up just a bit, smirking.

“Go slow…Please.” Your voice slightly begging.

“Aw baby,” he began, sounding almost amused by your plea. “You’re honestly adorable.” He smirked. “Did you forget what I told you before?” He asked. You shook your head. “And what was that?”

“This…this isn’t about me.” You whispered.

He raised a brow. “I’m sorry, what was that?” He leaned in close, almost mockingly.

“This isn’t about me.” Your voice sounding just a little bit more stern, surer of your answer.

“Very good.” He patted the top of your head as if you were some kind of child being praised.

“Dean, if there is any part of you in there that still has…some kind of feelings for me…at all…” As much as you had wanted to finish what you were about to say, you knew there was no point; he wasn’t going to listen to you, not in the current state that he was in.

“Old me had feelings for you.” He admitted. “Old me was, God I hate to say it but, he was in love with you.” Dean being in love with you was something that really hadn't crossed your mind. Since meeting him, you were always under the assumption that he loved you in the way of a little sister or as a friend, nowhere near that of a romantic interest. When you had first met him, you thought that there may of been something there, but as soon as you said your age, his face dropped, and you thought that was that - he no longer had interest in pursuing anything romantic with you. "Sweetheart, were you even paying attention to anything that I was doing when I was human? I mean, think about it. I know you're not stupid baby."

Of course you had caught Dean staring at you hundreds of times, but you never contributed them to anything remotely romantic. "All those times I stared at your ass..." his hand started moving down your body, stopping on your ass, giving it a small slap. You let out a tiny yelp like noise, not expecting him to do what he just did. "All those times I stared at these..." his hands started to remove your arms from your chest, the one thing that you had felt kept you remotely decent. "Honestly Sweetheart, really surprised you never caught me. Sammy even had to snap me out of staring a few times." He chuckled to himself. Fuck, even Sammy knew. You thought.

"You know Sweetheart, you really should have taken me up on my offer." He said. "I would have taken such good care of you. Gone nice and slow...made it all about you..." He started to circle around you, examining you like you were some kind of toy. "I would have been such a gentlemen too and would have even cuddled with you afterwards."

"Now's a crappy time to tell me that you loved me." You said, a slight attitude in your voice. "Why didn't you tell me? I genuinely thought you had no interest considering...my age..." You mumbled the last couple of words, but you were curious, curious as to why he never said anything to you. He had so many opportunities to you and yet, now was the time he decided to let you know.

"I'm not really in the mood for a therapy session Sweetheart." He said, his chest pressed up against your back, his arms wrapped around you. "But you know what I am in the mood for?" He asked, resting his chin on your shoulder. You nodded. "Oh." Your nodding intrigued him. "Does my girl want to tell me?" My girl. One of the many nicknames that you loved that he called you - and one of the only ones that he had simply reserved for you. It sounded so vile coming from his mouth now.

"You want to fuck me." You said simply.

"Ding, ding, ding! That's right baby." He grinned. "Want to know how? Or do you want to be surprised?

You knew it was a tricked question: this wasn't about you, his sentence consistently repeating itself in your head. "Can you...can you tell me?"

"No. I want it to be a surprise." He grinned.

You were lying right where you had started: lying with your back on the table. But this time thankfully, you were actually free to move around, well, at least partially. Your legs were dangling off the table, your ass on the very edge - one wrong move and you'd probably fall off. Dean was positioned between your legs; both hands on your thighs holding your legs wide open. If he wasn't what he was, this would have been a sight that you would have loved to see: Dean Winchester standing fully naked in front of you. "What a fucking sight." He said finally. "I don't think I'll ever get tired of this fucking view." He said, looking into your eyes for a brief moment.

He removed his hands from your thighs, after running his hands on them. The feeling of his warm hands felt nice on your gently cool skin. "And I have to say," he began as he took his dick into his hand. "I've been with a lot of women, and I mean a lot," you hated the bragging. You knew that he was a ladies man, but this was something that you didn't particularly want to hear when you were about to lose your virginity to the man that you have been in love with for years. "But your pussy Sweetheart..." you felt the tip of his cock teasing your entrance. "God..." his free hand gripped your hip. "Probably the best I've ever seen."

You wanted to shut your eyes, but that was something that you couldn't for some reason bring yourself to do. You knew your body was tense, and you were pretty sure that Dean noticed. "Sweetheart, no need to be tense. You're going to feel so fucking good, I promise." He said, his eyes flashing that brief black that you hated before turning into the green shade that you loved. "Having sex, fucking," he started to say as he started pressing his cock inside of you. "It's literally the best thing you'll ever experience in your life." He pushed himself deeper inside of you. As he did, you couldn't help but watch as he started to disappear inside of you. You already felt full and he wasn't even completely inside of you yet.

"Fuck." You said, almost throwing your head back.

He chuckled at your response. "I warned you I was big Sweetheart." He smirked. "You're taking me so, so good though." His compliment felt so weird to you. "There we go..." He half mumbled. You hoped he was all the way in now. "Ready baby?" He asked, nut knew he wasn't really asking. You nodded anyway, and that's when his smirk turned almost devilish.

His pace started out slower than you had thought he would have gone, which is something that you were grateful for. You half expected him to be going at a bruising pace as he had perfectly stated that this wasn't about you.

The room was completely silent except for the sounds of grunting (from Dean), moaning (from you) and the aggressive sounds of slapping of skin when he was pumping in and out of you (more like pounding in out of you). Your thoughts were incoherent, both of his hands were on your hips now, grippingly tight - you knew that you'd end up bruising. Despite the fact that the pace was starting to pick up and this was the first time you had anything remotely like this happen to you, the experience was...enjoyable to say the least. The feeling of him pulling almost all the way out before slamming right back into you was a feeling that you thought that you wouldn't particularly enjoy, but it was something that you had found yourself loving. "Dean..." You moaned, involuntarily. His name coming out of your mouth louder than you had expected it to be. Your legs slowly found themselves wrapping around his waist, your arms going above your head.

You didn't need to look at him to know that he was grinning from ear to ear. "Knew you'd enjoy it." He said. "Wish you could see yourself." One of his hands cupped one of your breasts, squeezing gently; this action causing you to let out yet another moan. "So sensitive." Almost a whisper. "How close are you Sweetness?" One of his hands running down your body, a finger hovering over your clit.

"C-close." You stuttered, feeling a slight pressure in the put of your stomach. "Ar-Are you?"

"Aw baby, how considerate of you to ask. Good girl." He said, chuckling slightly.

His movements started becoming sloppy now - he hadn't answered your question from before. "Dean?" You asked, moaning, slightly hushed.

"Yes baby? Are you going to cum?" You could hear the smirk on his lips. You nodded. "Better not fucking cum before me or they'll be consequences." Consequences? You didn't think about that.

"Dean...I'm..." You knew you were close, and you knew that you were going to cum before him; there was no possible way that you could control yourself. "Dean..."

"Don't fucking do it." He warned, his pace getting aggressively sloppier and faster. It amazed you that he was able to stay inside of you properly.

"F-f-fuck." You said, feeling your orgasm overcome you. As you were going through it, Dean continued to fuck you through it; one of his hands pressing down on your stomach while the other kept its bruising grip on your hips.

"That's it doll..." he said, his voice seductive sounding now. As you were riding out your orgasm, you felt him cum inside of you not even a minute later.

"De-fuck..." You trailed off.

Dean pulled out of you, and you were already missing the feeling of his cock inside of you. Your legs were shaking, and you felt as if you couldn't move. You never had that many orgasms before in such a short period of time. He looked at you as you started breathing heavy, your chest moving up and down as you stayed there lying on the table. One of his fingers started tracing your very sensitive and very wet clit. "So fucking beautiful." He said.

"Dean, please..." you begged, unsure if you were asking him to fuck you again or if you were asking him to give you a break. You weren't sure if you were even able to cum again.

"Need me to fuck you again? It's only been less than a minute Sweetheart. Miss my cock that badly?" You could hear the evil smirk on his face. For some reason you nodded. "I'll make a sex addict out of you yet." He dripped his finger slightly into you, and you moaned at the slight contact. You were incredibly sensitive right now.

"Dean..." You mumbled. His finger started slowly going in and out of your folds, spreading the cum around. He pumped his finger inside of you a few times before adding another one. At this point, you didn't care how desperate or needy you looked right now.

"Greedy, greedy." He almost sang, pulling his fingers out of you. You groaned at the loss. "Gotta punish you first doll."

"P-punish me?" You asked, slightly sitting up now.

"Yep." He said, licking his fingers. "You came before Y/N. I said, if you cum before me, there will be consequences. Now, get your sweet, sweet ass from off the table."

"What...What are you going to do?" Your question was innocent enough, but you knew he wasn't going to give you an innocent answer.

"Oh Sweetheart, I'm going to spank you." He replied. "Now, get off the table and get on all fours. I won't ask again."

Tag List: @roseblue373 @beansproutmafia @queenie32 @deanwanddamons @missy420-0 @fullbelieverheart @little-x-wolf @angiebangiee @ilikw @spnfamily-j2 @freewastelandstrawberry @jackles010378 If you'd like to be added to a tag list, let me know!

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #spn imagine #supernatural imagine #supernatural #spn one shot #supernatural one shot #spn #dean x you #dean x reader #female reader #reader insert

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itsgxsly · 1 year

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back to you | part 1

Pairing: pierre gasly x reader

Summary: You didn't think you could hate the same man you loved. But Pierre had achieved just that, and now he has to do whatever it takes to make you forgive him, and maybe to make you fall in love again.

word count: 1,2k

warnings: smut

Everyone says that time heals everything. Time makes us forget. It makes us forget the grudge, the pain, the bad memories. Sometimes even people.

Unfortunately that had not been your case.

You did not know at what point in your life you had fallen in love with Pierre Gasly. It could have been one of those many times you'd seen him when you accompanied your brother to the Paddock, or maybe it was when you'd met by chance over the holidays and he'd greeted you with that brilliant smile. The same smile that you hated now, or at least that's what you always told yourself.

Pierre had always been polite to you. You were Carlos's little sister, one of his friends in Formula 1, so he had always been nice to you, even flirting with you on occasion, but without giving any sign that he felt anything beyond a formal relationship. Pierre was not a man of long-term relationships, and you were already well aware of that fact. You knew from your brother and some of the rumors going around the Paddock how his other relationships had ended. Maybe that should have been your first warning so you didn't get carried away that night long ago. Maybe you should have listened to your subconscious and walked away from it.

It's not like you planned for one second to end up the way you did that day.

It was common that during the summer break some drivers met sometimes outside of the constant competitions that Formula 1 brought. That Saturday had been one of those meetings, and in the end you had all ended up in a club in Monaco, where most of them lived, dancing and enjoying the night until the wee hours. You weren't usually a big fan of alcohol, so you were only minimally dizzy. From your place at the bar you could see Charles dancing strangely and you guessed that he already had more drinks than he could count. You couldn't see your brother, but you assumed he was talking to Lando somewhere. You could also see some of the guys' girlfriends chatting or dancing on the floor.

Distracted by keeping your eyes attentive to others, you didn't notice Pierre approaching you from behind until you noticed two hands placed on your shoulders. Startled by the sudden movement, you turned around, letting out a sigh of calm when you saw who it was.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you” while Pierre was apologizing you noticed how he slurred his words a bit and you smelled the alcohol in his. It seemed that he was enjoying his night.

You allowed yourself a few seconds to get a good look at him. From his hair a little shiny with sweat to his chest, covered by a white linen shirt that he wore partly open, revealing his chest hair and his chain with a cross. You turned your gaze back to his face and realized that maybe you had taken more time than you should watching him, because he was already looking at you with a smirk.

"Have you seen anything you like?" He asked you slightly tilting his head and getting a little closer to you.

You couldn't answer him, too distracted by his closeness. Pierre had never behaved this forward with you, but you blamed the alcohol in his body for making you blush like that.

“Is there a problem, chérie?” His voice was almost a whisper now because of how close he was to you. You hoped he couldn't tell how fast your heart was beating.

“Pierre…” You wanted it to sound like a warning, but it had to sound more like a plea from the way he looked at you.

"Tell me, chérie" his tone of voice was playful. He got closer to you if possible, caressing your waist with his hand lightly.

"Pierre, you're drunk" you reminded him in an attempt to get him to get away from him, but you didn't make any attempt of your own to get away from him either.

"I'm not that drunk. I know perfectly well what I'm doing” his words sounded self-confident and unfortunately for you, you believed him completely.

You should have thought better at the time. But when Pierre looked at you like that, you didn't hesitate for a moment to grab his hand and let him take you to the hotel where he was staying. You didn't think of any consequences along the way, too focused on his hand circling your thigh, close to where you needed it most.

You didn't think of anything when you arrived at his hotel room and Pierre guided you to bed between heated kisses, a fight of tongues and teeth while you undressed.

Pierre pushed you on the bed and you let yourself be controlled by him.

"Lie down, ange" was a simple command.

Once in bed his hands were all over your body. Your waist, your chest, your hair. Your hands went straight to his muscular back and then caressed his abdomen. He bit your bottom lip lightly and you let out a soft moan.

Pierre stopped kissing you and took off your underwear, you didn't have time to complain because he had stopped kissing you before he started leaving a trail of kisses down your chest and down to your stomach. Just with that he already had you completely wet. He lifted your legs and placed them on his shoulders, making you tense as he moved closer to your center.

You knew you weren't going to last long the moment you felt his tongue on you. Pierre didn't take long to find the rhythm that made your head spin with pleasure. His tongue worked at that rate without leaving a single spot unattended as his nose brushed against your clit. It didn't take long for you to feel that heat in your stomach and reach what you could have considered one of the best orgasms of your life.

Pierre looked at you from his position between your legs, your breath quickened and your face satisfied. He moved closer to you again and kissed you, letting you taste your own taste on his lips.

"Pierre" you begged his name, wanting even more of him.

"Tell me what you want"

“Fuck me.” You didn't know where that sudden confidence had come from, but you were desperate.

And he did it just as you asked. Pierre knew full well what he was doing. He knew how to bring every orgasm out of you and leave you shaking by the time he's done with you. You prayed that someone from the hotel wouldn't complain about the noise.

You didn't even move from the bed when you finished, both of you too tired from the hectic night. Pierre hugged you from behind and you let yourself fall into his warmth.

You felt like in a dream, in the arms of the man you could even say you had fallen in love with a long time ago.

But dreams are not always reality, and you verified it that same morning when you woke up.

Pierre was not there with you.

You thought that he could be in the bathroom or that he had gone out to train, but despite the fact that you waited for him for a while, he did not return. Neither he nor he returned your calls when you called him. Neither he nor he answered any messages. You went home embarrassed, angry and heartbroken.

Pierre was gone and it was clear that he wanted nothing to do with you.

author note: I had this fic waved for a while and now it's real. I don't know how many parts it will have, but I'm excited that it's my first complete story. And as Pierre's girl, my first fic had to be about him. Don't judge me too much for the smut, it's my first time writing it🫶🏻

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teriri-sayes · 5 months

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Reactions to the Lone Flame's Chapter 215

TL;DR - Gashan can't use his shaman powers too. Story about how dragons became gods. Village chief does not know someone named CJG. Subjugation force will arrive in 3 days.

More Power Restrictions Mana and aura were not the only powers that were restricted. Gashan confirmed that he could not use his shaman powers/power of nature. So this brings us to the question: What about Cale's ancient powers? Unfortunately, the author did not mention anything about the ancient powers for the past chapters.

Dragons as Gods We got more world-building today, so I'll summarize it all in a story format:

This tale begins at the time when the weather drastically changed, and powers like mana and aura became unusable. These drastic changes brought about chaos to the world, and was thus referred to as the period of cataclysm.

There existed a place called the Free City of Gonia, which was rumored to be founded by people with dragon blood, the so-called half-blood dragons. During the cataclysm, the free city asked help from their dragon protectors for a solution.

The dragons responded to their pleas, and roamed around the world, helping in stabilizing the chaos. They repaired places where mana and aura became unusable, and stopped the beastkin who had fallen into madness. Their powers and attributes also helped alleviate the drastic weather changes.

Hence, people all over the world began to praise and worship the dragons. Their faith in the gods wavered, for the temples were rife with corruption, and the gods seemingly did not listen to their cries for help.

The Free City of Gonia renamed themselves as the Holy City, expanding its territory and openly declaring the worship of dragons as gods. However, the last emperor of the Har Empire vehemently opposed it.

The last emperor of the Har Empire and the last Archduke Snow secretly believed that it was actually the dragons who caused the cataclysm in their desire to become gods. But the world thought the Har Empire's opposition was because they were afraid to lose its status as a powerful nation, and the prestige of their first emperor, who was a dragon slayer, from falling.

War took place. The dragons abstained from joining the war, and only the ones said to be half-blood dragons participated. And in that war, the last emperor and the last Archduke Snow passed away.

The Har Empire was demoted to a kingdom, and fled to the north. The Holy City seized control of the Har Empire's territory, once again renaming themselves as the Holy Empire.

The Holy Empire declared to its neighbor countries that they would maintain friendly relations as long as they accepted the worship of dragons in their countries. They even offered their assistance in solving the chaos brought about by the cataclysm.

Thus, no country opposed the Holy Empire. And true to their word, the Holy Empire did assist other countries that asked for help, sending out dragons to resolve their problems. Dragon worship further spread to the world.

Other Answers to Cale's Questions As for Cale's other questions, CJG seemed to have disguised himself here, so the village chief did not know anyone of that name. But the village chief did keep a record of strangers who entered their village, so they would have to check that for any CJG clues.

The subjugation force was expected to arrive in 3 days, and Eruhaben expressed his worry about the enemies finding out about them. But Cale even welcomed it, saying that because they lacked information, they could just capture the subjugation force and interrogate them. Yes, typical Cale. 😂

Ending Remarks Nothing exciting happened again today. It's just info dump and more name reveals. The wolf beastkin among the villagers was called Koukan, and the village's name was Wins Village. Frankly, it feels weird? Back in the murim arc, we would have gotten lots of named characters already, but this time, only one person had been named. Village chief is still called village chief or elder, though it was revealed that he was a descendant from the butler family that served Archduke Snow.

Anyway, next chapter is either the villagers meeting Lock, or Cale's group capturing the subjugation force. And hopefully, we get an answer if Cale can use his ancient powers here.

#tcf spoilers #trash of the count's family

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a1307s · 5 months

Text

Flickers of Green #1

(Dick Grayson & Jason Todd)

[Art is not mine! Credit to jjmk-jjmk]

Requested by: quirkyshortdumbo11

Keys:

Y/N: Your Name

H/C: Hair Color

E/C: Eye Color

Word Count: 6,297

Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:

Implement of rape

Mentions of Death/Blood

Cursing

———————————————————————

No, no, no, no, no! I rush through the rubble, pushing through every and anything in my way. After six months of searching, six months of watching the Joker beat them, six months of watching what he's done to her, six months of nothing but them in my thoughts they can't be in here. Jason can't be in there. Y/N can't be in there. They can't be dead because of me.

My lungs scream as I breathe in the ash and smoke, but I can't let it stop me. I have to find them. I have to find my robins. I have to find my robins alive.

Despite my pleas to all the gods I don't believe in, I don't get them answered. I push over part of the fallen ceiling, my worst nightmares coming alive once I get it moved. Jason is curled up around Y/N, clinching her to his chest, even in death. Their blood mixes, soaking into their suits, into the rumble, and Y/N's beautiful hair. The same beautiful hair I tied a bow into the last morning I saw her.

"Master Bruce?" Alfred calls through the coms. "Progress report?" His voice cracks at the second word, squeezing my heart even more.

"I've... they've been located." I'll never forgive myself for this, but Dick's grudge against me will still last longer.

—————————

I don't even know why I agreed to this. I swore off Batman, Gotham, fucking Bruce two years ago. Yet, here I am, looking over the stupid citizens of Gotham as he licks his wounds. I know why I'm doing it; because Alfred asked, because Alfred didn't want Bruce on patrol with an injury, because I can't say no to Alfred.

Bruce's newest Robin is perched up on the ledge next to me as he rattles on about something. I don't know what he's saying or even care. I know I shouldn't hate the kid; Bruce's actions aren't his fault but what the fuck Bruce? Jason and... their blood wasn't even shed yet, and Bruce had replaced them. Replaced them with this kid that won't fucking shut up. "A part of being stealthy is being quiet," I hiss out, my words dipped in venom more than I intended them to.

"Oh, right, sorry," Tim mumbles, obeying orders and falling silent. I close my eyes before taking a few deep breaths, making sure to exhale slowly to calm myself. "Nightwing-"

"Quiet," I hiss again, trying to focus on my breathing so I don't misplace any more of my anger onto this kid.

"Ya, I know, but-"

"Robin! What? What's so important?" I bark at him, snapping my eyes open and turning towards him.

"I think there's someone following the lady down there," he whispers, pointing towards the sidewalk across from us.

"What?" I ask, snapping my eyes towards the direction he's pointing. He's right, a younger-looking woman is walking down the street, her skirt flowing around her legs as she walks, her long dress coat doing the same. Hidden in the shadows a couple steps behind the girl is a big figure. They slither behind the girl, making sure to keep pace with them. "I'm going to investigate, you stay up here as backup," I mumble, getting to my feet as I think of how to sneak up on the stalker.

"Yes, Sir!" Tim chirps, skirring to his feet to follow me along the rooftops.

"Don't call me sir," I order, before letting myself fall from the roof we've been perched on. I land gently on my feet, standing up to glance around, keeping track of the shadows and which ones will be best to hide in.

"Yes, Si- er - Nightwing," Tim starts over the coms before correcting himself. "What's the plan?"

The plan is to get it through the citizens of Gotham's heads not to walk around the streets at night. "I'm going to follow them on ground level in case the suspect makes any rash movements. You follow along on the rooftops. Make sure to stay silent and keep pace. Do not move unless I say so."

"Okay," Tim mumbles, pokes of his red suit coming in and out of view as he creeps along the ledges. I keep myself engulfed in shadows stretching out from the walls.

"Once the lady is safe somewhere I'll take action to get this guy off the street. Got it?"

"Got it," he calls over the coms again, ducking behind a vent as he waits for me to catch up a bit. So much for staying on pace. Despite Tim's eager steps, I stay parallel to the subjects, the only thing suppurating us is the thin street. Or at least I do until the lady turns around a corner.

Her stalker follows, the corner streetlight exposing him for a second as he jumps between shadows. He's a bigger guy, easily over six feet and having anywhere from fifty to seventy-five pounds on me. It's impressive that he manages to stay hidden so well. Almost Batman impressive. From the glimpse I got, I also managed to see a red helmet covering his face which doesn't help me much to identify the culprit.

"That's not good," Tim mumbles over the intercom, his voice laced with worry. "That's the Red Hood."

"Red Hood? Is that the crime lord that's been piling up bodies faster than the Joker?" I whisper back, annoyance filling me up. So much for Alfred's 'it should be an easy night' speech.

"Ya, that's the one," he answers, the worry only building up more in his tone. I stay tucked on the corner of the street, making sure this Red Hood guy isn't looking before I dart across the street. I make quick - but silent - paces as I sneak up on him. I need to jump in before this lady becomes his next victim.

"Are you in place?" I ask, glancing up for a quick second to make sure the sidekick made it across the street too.

"Yes."

"Okay, change of plans, we can't wait this out and act later." Tim stays silent, waiting for my orders. "The next alley we pass, I'm going to pull him into it to take him down. The lady will scurry off as I handle it. As she's running off you tail her and make sure she gets somewhere safe, got it?"

The line stays silent for a while before Tim's voice peeps up, "Yes, sorry, got it. I forgot you couldn't see me nod." What the hell kid? You've been Robin for almost three years now and you still make beginner mistakes.

I shake the thought out of my head, focusing on the situation in front of me. The next alley is about five paces in front of the lady, making it about ten for the Hood guy and fifteen for me. I quicken my steps some, ending up right behind him as he passes the alley. I grab a hold of the man, tugging him to the right. Hood skids, his weight playing against him and causing him to fall hard. The silent street is filled with the sound of his helmet clashing with metal.

"What the hell?!" The guy yells, quickly jumping back onto his feet. "Fucking Nightwing," he mumbles, shaking his head before stepping towards me.

"Hood," I call back, lifting my fists to prepare myself and to cover my face.

"Nightwing!" Tim calls over the com.

"Not right now," I hiss, ducking as Red Hood swings at me.

"Just move aside Wing, it's not what you think," Hood shouts, going to swing at me again.

I duck again, going for his feet as I'm down here. "You're a notorious killer chasing after a girl, what else am I supposed to think?" He sees through my attack a little late, managing to avoid falling but he stumbles. He falls against one of the dumpsters causing the alleyway to be filled with a loud crack again, but this time it's paired with the screeching of his gun barrels sliding against the dumpster.

"Nightwing!" Tim calls again causing anger to boil in me.

"You're supposed to be tailing the lady," I answer back, pulling my Escrima sticks off my back as I approach my newest sparring partner.

"I am, she's heading-" Tim starts, but I don't catch the rest of his sentence. While I was distracted with the newest Robin, Red Hood ducked down and swiped my feet out from under me. Dumb little shit using my tricks against me. He starts walking towards me pulling his gun out of its holster as he nears.

"What do I do?" Tim calls, worry laced into his words once again.

I reach for my nearest stick, debating if I should throw it at his head to buy me time or try another leg sweep. "I don't know Robin, whatever you think is best." I decide on the stick, if it doesn't get me enough time to get up, it'll at least aid me in knocking him over. Hood's gun lowers as he stands over me, the barrel pointed at my forehead.

I tug my hand forward, setting myself up to throw it at him when I'm cut off. "Lady don't!" Tim's voice screeches out, filling my ears through the com as well as echoing through the alleyway.

"Don't shoot!" A female voice yells, thin fingers wrapping around the barrel of the gun and pushing it away from my head, up towards the sky. Before I know what's going on the alley is filled with the echoes of a bullet being released from it. I stay frozen, my mask going wide as I take in the scene in front of me.

The lady from earlier is standing next to me, her hand still around the barrel and her arm stretched up as it's pointed into the sky. Her hair is in two buns on top of her head, the H/C color of it reminding me of Y/N's hair; well besides the streak of grey wrapped through her left bun. I don't need to be thinking of Y/N right now, that'll only distract me from saving this lady. "What the fuck is your problem, you daft cow?" The lady yells, ripping the gun out of Hood's hand.

Daft cow? Okay, this girl or Bruce or even Robin has to be fucking with me. There is no way this random ass woman uses the same insult as Y/N. Much less the same British insult she picked up from Alfred. "Don't stand there and look dumb at me. What do you think you're doing?" She repeats, her hands pointing the gun towards the ground, her fingers nimble as she works to drop the magazine.

"I... hi," Red Hood spits out, seeming just as lost as me.

"Hello," the lady answers back, handing the empty gun back to him before turning towards me. What the fuck? The face looking down at me is the spitting image of Y/N... well a slightly older Y/N. "Here you go," she says kneeling to hand me the magazine.

My focus stays trapped in her eyes. They're shiny and bright and the same E/C color Y/N's are - were. Y/N's were. Because she's dead. Unlike Y/N's eyes, this girl has flickers of green around her irises. "Thank you?" I say, the words coming out as a question instead of a statement. I sit up, moving slowly towards her to take the magazine being held out to me.

"You're welcome!" She chirps out with a smile. The same feeling of warmth I get - got - from Y/N's smile fills my chest, loosening some of the knots of stress. "What are you two fighting about anyway?" She asks, standing back up.

It can't... she's not... "How?" I spit out, skirring to my feet.

"How what?" Tim asks, appearing at my side.

Y/N's - she's not Y/N - this lady's face falls as Robin comes into her sight. Her jaw clenches, eyes going hard making the green stand out more. "I got to go," she whispers, her tone throwing imaginary daggers alongside her words.

She goes to walk past us, but she's stopped by Red Hood grabbing her arm. My hand falls to my belt, my fingertips grazing a bat-a-rang as Tim does the same. "Let... let me walk you home," he whispers, barely loud enough to meet my ears.

"What the fuck is with all you superheroes?" She asks, shaking off Hood's hold on her as she glances around the three of us. "Two days ago, I had a frantic Batman shoving hundred-dollar bills into my hand. You- " she starts, tossing her hand towards Hood "-have been trailing me for three blocks, you-" her hand shifts from Hood to Robin "make me unbearably angry for god knows why, and you, you fucking daft cow belong in Blüdhaven, not Gotham so why are you here?" Her hands fall to her hips as her right one pops out some. Her eyes are still hard and beautiful, and I so badly want her to be my Y/N. "Are you going to answer me?" She sasses, her head tilting as she looks up at me.

"I..." My words stick in my throat as I look at her. I lift my hands some, their shaking very noticeably. They don't stop shaking as I place them on her shoulders. She's warm and real and right here. Her eyes soften, shifting to confusion instead of anger. "Y/N?" I finally weasel out.

"Good guess," she says a smile crossing her face as her hands fall from her sides.

"Y/N?" I repeat, my heartbeat filling my ears.

"That's my name, don't wear it out," she teases, shrugging my hands off her shoulders before slipping past me.

My mind screams at me to walk after her but my body refuses to move. It takes a second for my mind to clear and for my eyes to adjust to the guy standing in front of me. The Hood has barely moved an inch this whole time. "What's next? You going to end up being Jason Todd?" I half-heartedly joke, a broken laugh falling from my mouth.

Red Hood hums a bit, turning his head in the direction Y/N went. He starts walking that way but ends up shifting to the left instead of the right. Before turning the turned he stops, his head turns, peering over his shoulder at me. "We both know that Y/N being alive isn't the only secret Bruce Wayne is hiding from the world."

The words cut through me as he disappears. "Should we go after him?" Tim asks, pulling on my sleeve some.

"We're going back to the Manor," I mumble, turning on my heels. Bruce has a lot of explaining to do.

———————————

My heart beats loud in my ears as I sit in my patrol car. I tried talking to Bruce about Y/N but he just shut down like he always does. I've kept on his case for the past couple of days but if he doesn't go silent, he starts yelling about nonsense so he's a dead end.

I talked it over - both Y/N being alive and Jason being the Red Hood - with Alfred. It turns out that Bruce has known about Red Hood being Jason since shortly after the first time they had a run-in. He did some digging and found out the Al Ghuls had a hand in his revival - and his sudden turn to valiance.

Also, it turns out that he found out about Y/N two days before we did - like she said. Alfred said that Bruce believes Y/N doesn't remember much from before her death, or at least is pretending not to. Apparently, she had no idea who Batman or Bruce Wayne was. Personally, if I were in her situation, I would pretend not to know who he was too. Since finding out about all this I've been super pissed at Bruce and have refused to talk to him, let alone step foot in Gotham.

Despite this, the universe has other plans. Gotham was short officers - shorter than usual - so my Captain back in Blüdhaven sent out a group of us to help pick up the slack. The whole time I've been here, I've been on edge. What if I see her again? What if I don't see her again? Being given the job of patrol doesn't help much either. All I get to do is sit here and wait; wait for someone to speed or try to mug someone else or try to do any other minor things. Sitting here and waiting doesn't help my thoughts to stop circling.

I should talk to Y/N. I need to talk to her. What if she doesn't remember me? What if she does? Is she taking care of herself? How long has she been back in town? Is she alive because of the Laza pit too? If she is alive because of Al Ghul, did she serve time in the League of Assassins like Jason?

These thoughts aren't any good for me. At least not while I'm on duty. I need to leave the distractions for the small time between being Officer Grayson and being Nightwing. Maybe some coffee would help. I decide to climb out of the cruiser, making sure to lock it before I start walking down the street.

Around the corner from where I parked is a small twenty-four-seven cafe called Pamela's Cafe. It's always decked out in neon lights that stand out against the cloudy Gotham sky. We - Jason, Y/N, and me - used to go every night after patrol. It's one of the only businesses that have managed not to get burnt down or robbed into bankruptcy because their donuts are Joker's favorite. It's weird when you think about it but hey, at the end of the day, fed people - even villains - are grateful people.

I round the corner, doing an environment check as I continue the short walk. I look into the cafe's big windows as I walk past them. They seem pretty busy, but I'm not surprised. Their prices are low, their food is good, and milliners and villains alike boast about it.

The bell above the door jingles as I push the door open. "Welcome in Officer!" One of the workers chirps out. I nod at them, joining the line in front of the register.

"I still don't understand why there are different colors," A feminine voice pipes up from across the room. It's soft, soft enough not to disturb her neighbors. The voice rings through my head, sounding like bells to my ears.

A soft sigh follows her words. "The different colors are different element groups. Give me your notebook Y/N." I instantly recognize that voice. It belongs to Scarecrow - well Dr Crane. Before I can stop myself, I'm moving towards the voice. Is it my Y/N? If it is my Y/N, why is she talking to the scarecrow? Why is the scarecrow talking to her? Why the hell are they talking about elements?

It doesn't take long for the doctor to fall into my view, and in turn, in my pathway. He hasn't changed much from my Robin days. He's still scrawny as ever with thin, dirt-brown hair, and big owl glasses that expand the size of his eyes. "Now, the teal-colored ones are basic metal elements," the doctor starts, bending his head down, probably to write in Y/N's notebook he asked for.

As I come up to the booth they're sitting in, Y/N - my Y/N - falls into my sight. Her eyes are still a mix of the natural E/C and flickers of green as she turns from the doctor to me. "Hello Officer," she says, a lop-sided smile on her face.

"How can we help you?" Crane says, standing up from his seat and attempting to squeeze between Y/N and me. It doesn't work very well. I'm a slim man but Scarecrow makes me look like a bodybuilder.

"I just..." My thoughts escape me as I keep my focus locked on Y/N. "Just wanted to buy Y/N a coffee," I squeeze out, smiling back at her.

The doctor glances between Y/N and me a few times before turning towards her. "Do you want him to buy you a coffee? I'll make him go away if you don't." Sure, you will, Doc. It's not like I've been whooping your ass since I was nine.

"I don't mind. It's not very often a hot officer offers to buy me a drink," Y/N teases, propping her head on her hand as she continues to look at me with her loopy smile. She doesn't remember who I am, she doesn't remember who I am, she does not remember who I am.

Crane looks me over once more before nodding towards Y/N. "I'll stop by later tonight to check over your chem homework, okay?"

"Mkay," Y/N hums out, pulling her notebook to her side of the table. Scarecrow keeps his eyes locked on us as he slowly walks out of the cafe and continues to until he can no longer peer into the windows. "So, Officer-?"

"Grayson," I offer, sliding into the booth seat across from her.

"Bruce Wayne's Grayson?" She asks, curiosity filling her eyes, her head lifting and her fingers lacing together as she stares at me.

"Ya," I say nervously, glancing around the cafe. "Do you want a coffee?" Of course not, Y/N doesn't like the taste of coffee, she always thought it was-

"Coffee is too bitter. Do you mind if I get a Vanilla Frappuccino instead?"

My eyes snap back at her, drinking in her smile, and her hair, and her beautiful eyes. God, her beautiful eyes that are somehow even prettier with the flickers of green mixed in. "Ya that's fine," I mumble, glancing at the line before looking back at her.

She giggles a bit before propping herself up on the booth. She turns around, scanning the coffee bar. "Hey, Addison?" She calls out, getting a 'wassup?' in response. "Do you mind making me a vanilla frap and-"

Y/N cuts herself off, looking over her shoulder at me. "Uh... just a black coffee and maybe a donut."

"- and a black coffee with a chocolate chip muffin?"

"Do you want me to use your daily discount?" Addison asks, getting another giggle out of Y/N.

"No, Officer Grayson is buying me a coffee," Y/N responds, her words bubbling out of her. She turns back around, shifting back to a sitting position before talking to me. "You don't want a donut right now. They're way better after their first made so you got to get one either at three a.m. or three p.m. I've never been here at three a.m. but for some reason, I just know they're better than, you know?"

"Ya, I know," I breathe out, my mind running a mile a minute. Does she remember coming here with me? Does she remember me? Or is it just her conscious knowing that she's supposed to know these things? Is she getting her memories back? How long until she remembers who I am? Who Alfred is? Who Bruce is? Does she remember what the Joker did to her? What he did to Jason? "So..." I peep out, watching her watching me, "Tell me about yourself."

Y/N hums softly, shifting her eyes around. "I can't really tell you about myself because I don't know myself."

"What can-"

"Here you go!" The Addison girl struts over, cutting me off as she sets Y/N's coffee down. "Officer Grayson," she coos, taking her time to set down my coffee and my muffin. "Call me if you need anything, okay?" She adds, continuing her cooing as she gives me my bill.

I glance down at it. Eight dollars, not too bad for two coffees and a muffin. "As I was saying," I start again, turning towards Y/N, "What can you tell me about yourself?"

Y/N's a bit distracted, her smile gone and her eyes following the celebrity hopper as she slides back behind the counter. "Um... I hate the taste of coffee."

I chuckle at that a bit. "Well, ya, I know that already." She turns back towards me, blessing me with the sight of her eyes again. "Do you have a favorite color?" It's orange, dark orange like Wally's hair.

"I really like orange. Not like sunset orange, I think it's too light. More of a copper orange." My heart pings at her words but I try my best not to let it show on my face. "I don't remember much of... anything," Her voice is soft on the last word. "But I do have a fuzzy memory of the color."

"Ya? What's the memory?" I push, picking up my cup. When I glance down at it, I see the waitress's number scribbled on it. I hate Gotham.

Y/N takes a second, closing her eyes as if that'll help clear up her memories. "During it, I was on the beach I think... Maybe just in a pool, I don't know. But I was in a body of water and an older boy - like way older - was holding me. I think he was teaching me how to swim, I don't know," Y/N's eyes snap open, a small smile on her face. "I don't remember much of it; I just know his hair is or was orange and the color makes me feel comfortable." I know what memory she's talking about.

Bruce took in Y/N when he took in Jason. Jay made it very clear that they were a packaged deal and Bruce didn't mind. He wasn't kidding either. He and Y/N ran the Gotham streets together for half their lives.

It didn't take long to figure out that neither of them knew how to swim so the team decided to take a day off and go swimming at the Happy Harbor beach. It took most of the day to get Jason unattached from Y/N but somehow Wally managed too.

Walles took her into the water and kept a hold of her as he swam around and eventually managed to get her to swim a bit on her own. At the time Wally was 20 were as Y/N and Jay were 12 so I'm not surprised she remembers him being so much older than her; it probably felt like that at the time.

It's one of my favorite memories. It's one I look at every day. I have a picture of Y/N wrapped up in Wally's arms as they're swimming on my desk at work.

"I have a question, but you don't have to answer it," I say, being careful with my words.

"It's about my memory loss, ya?" She asks, her smile falling as she sips on her Frappuccino. I hum a yes, watching her body language for a response. I don't want to make her uncomfortable.

"Well, there's not much to tell. Six months ago, I just... woke up in Gotham Hospital. The doctors say that I probably ended up in the crosshairs of Batman and one of the Gotham goons since I was littered with injuries and had quite a few wounds to my head. They also said I'm suffering from temporary dementia and that my memories will - hopefully - eventually come back."

"How do you know your name is Y/N?" I ask, trying to push the images and videos from Y/N and Jay's death out of my head.

"Well, they did a blood test and tested it against Gotham records. Apparently, I used to be quite the troublemaker. When they did my blood test, they found the DNA of some dude named Jason Todd on me. I have no clue who that is but apparently, we used to get into trouble together all the time. I googled him and... well, he's been dead for a couple of years. It turns out he was a ward of Bruce Wayne, just like you. Did you know him?"

My heart pings again for Y/N. "Ya, I knew him," I answer, pulling my eyes away from her face. If I look at her too much longer, I'll end up crying. It must have been so hard for her. It must still be so hard for her. Waking up and not knowing who you are. Getting a lead to someone you were once close to and then finding out they're dead. Walking around living your life not knowing anything about yourself.

Y/N hums, pulling my eyes back to her. Her hands are busy putting her school supplies back into her bag. "Well, I hate to dine and dash but I have a speech class to get to. I don't know if you'd be open to it, but could we meet up again? I'd like to get to know about this Jason guy. I'm pretty sure he was important to me."

My heart squeezes in my chest again. Jason was important to Y/N. They loved each other so much. The thought of lying to her crosses my mind. I've adored Y/N forever, but I could never compete with the history she has with Jay, so I never tried.

But now? She doesn't even know the guy. I could lie through my teeth and tell her that Jason left her behind after Bruce adopted him. With dementia - even temporary dementia - there's never a promise that any, let alone all her memories will come back. But I can't do that to her. Even if her memory never clears, I wouldn't be able to live a life of a lie with her.

"Ya, I'd like that," I say, placing a smile on my face. I pull out my notebook, quickly scratching down my phone number and address before handing the paper to her.

"Thank you for the coffee," she says, a smile huge on her face as she looks down at the yellow paper.

"You're welcome," I answer back, my heart picking up some as she smiles before it falls back down as she walks away. "Y/N?" I call after her, quickly throwing down a ten before jumping to my feet. When I get near her I grab her arm so she can't get any further away. Once she's stopped I drop her from my hold. I shouldn't have grabbed her like that.

"Ya?" She asks, looking up at me with those big, beautiful eyes. I could spend the rest of my days looking into them, counting all the green strips that have become recently present in them.

"You... Bruce... Bruce Wayne and his butler, Alfred, knew Jason quite well too. I'm... I'm going to call him and tell him I talked to you, okay? Feel free to go to the manor at any time and talk to them too, ya?"

"Okay, thank you, Officer Grayson," Y/N chirps out, her smile growing before she slides out of the cafe.

Bruce doesn't deserve this. He doesn't deserve to see Y/N alive, doesn't deserve to see her well and happy and breathing. But Y/N does. She deserves to know who she is. She deserves to know there are still people who love her and care about her.

My heart races as I walk out of the cafe, pulling out my phone on the way. My fingers shake so badly as I push the call button that I have to double-check to make sure I push it. "Hey Bird-Boy," Wally says, his voice as excited as usual.

"Hey Walles, I think you should sit down. I... have some really good news."

———————————

My heart jumps when my cell rings. I'm quick to grab it, a smile playing on my face when I see Y/N's contact. "Hello."

"Hello!" Her voice is as cheerful as ever when I answer her call. "I think I have the right building, but your call button doesn't work."

A couple of hours after we met up, she called me to set up another one. It was the longest week of my life, waiting to see her again, waiting to get the chance to show her who she was. "Oh, ya, I forgot about that. I'll be down in a second."

"See you soon, Officer," She teases before the line is hung up.

I'm quick to rush out my door and down the stairs to the apartment building entrance. My excitement makes it a bit of a struggle to open the door, but I do manage to get it open. Today Y/N has her hair down with a headband bow-looking thing in it. Her eyes are still super bright, causing my breath to hick a bit when I take them in. "Are you going to let me in, or do you want me to melt away in the rain?"

"No! Come in, please," I rush out, stepping aside so Y/N can get some shelter from the rain. She smiles a bit, sliding in next to me in the hallway. "Umm... this way," I mumble, gently grabbing her wrist to pull her towards my apartment. Y/N pitter patters behind me, her head shifting around to take in the hallway. Not that there's much to take in.

I let go of her when we get to my apartment so that I can hold the door open for her again. She says a small 'thank you' before walking through the door frame. Y/N reminds me of a drop of sunlight as she walks around the living space. Breathing life into the dark, gloomy apartment. I watch as she walks around, taking in the small kitchen before shifting her attention to the living room. "How long have you lived here?" She asks, her fingertips running over the different books packed onto my bookcase.

"About six years," I whisper, scared if I speak too loudly that this will all turn out to be some fantasy I've credited in my head. I take slow steps towards her, stopping close enough behind her that if she moves, she'll brush up against me. Y/N doesn't seem to mind though, her attention staying on the shelves.

"What's this?" she asks, tipping one of the photo albums I have so she can look at it better.

"It's a photo album," I answer, wrapping my fingers around the spine of it, slightly grazing her in the process. Y/N tilts her head a bit at the touch but doesn't say anything. "Do you want to look through it? It might help with your memories."

"Maybe," She murmurs, sliding out from in front of me. Her back rubs against me as she moves, warmth enveloping me as she moves. I watch as she walks over to the couch, making herself comfy on it as she waits for me to follow.

I follow after her, photo album in hand as I sit down next to her. Her eyes light up when I place it on her lap and open it, causing the green flickers in them to remind me of emerald silvers.

Her hands are gentle as she flips through the book. She stops now and again, taking a second to take in the photo and think it over. She flips the page again, starting the Happy Harbor Swimming Day section. Thanks to M'gann there are about a hundred pictures from the day.

"That's the guy! From my memory," Y/N cheers, pointing to a copy of the picture I have on my desk. "That's Wally." I can feel hope clawing up my chest as I try to push it down. "He's Kid Flash, ya? Oh shit, I don't think I'm supposed to say that." Maybe it's okay to have a bit of hope after all.

"Don't worry, I already know he's Kid Flash," I reassure her, wrapping my arm around her neck to pull her closer to me.

Y/N's eyes flicker up at me before turning back to the photos. "My memories are coming back faster than they have been," she says, her eyes flickering again.

"That's a good thing."

She hums softly, flipping another page and taking in the pictures. "I'm remembering a lot about Jason, and you."

My chest tightens some, both hope and fear seeping in. None of us are perfect, especially those of us who serve the world as vigilantes. It leads to a lot of fear and stress and anger that likes to manifest and cause fights. I've picked my fair share of fights. With Bruce, with Alfred, with Jay, and Y/N. I don't want those to be the memories she remembers first or the only memories she could get back of me.

"Ya?" I finally squeeze out after a pause of silence. It feels like my heart falls out with the words.

"Mmhmm" she hums, flipping the page again. She's finally out of the beach day and is now looking through the photos from Jay's 13th birthday. "I remember calling you Wing all the time which is weird. Maybe? Maybe not since I remember Wally being Kid Flash. You're like super deep into the hero gig ya?"

"Ya... ya I am."

"Was I a hero?"

If my heart didn't fall out with my words before it sure as hell did now. It's going to kill me having to tell her everything, having to tell her how she died. "There's a lot I need to explain to you," I finally say, pulling the photo album off her lap and placing it on the table in front of us. Her eyes turn towards me and once again the flickers of green trap my attention. Tonight is going to be longer and more painful than any patrol I've ever done.

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#young justice #young justice oneshot #jason todd #dick grayson #redhood #nightwing #jason todd oneshot #dick Grayson oneshot #jason todd x reader #dick grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #redhood x reader #redhood oneshot #Nightwing oneshot

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igotbloodonmyhands · 2 months

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Nightmares / Part I

Note: I made this two parts since I really wanted to post this but couldn't find the energy to write for the others tonight. Tomorrow you'll get Price, Rudi and Soap tho (I used alphabetical order, that's why they're last). Trope: Fluff, angst, hurt comfort Word count: 1.303 Trigger warning: Mention of torture

Alejandro: Alejandro was no stranger to sleepless nights. It took an eternity for him to fall asleep, worries and sorrows keeping him awake. When he did finally fall asleep, the nightmares came. He'd stand in the town square of Las Almas, having to watch as his family, friends and comrades were put against a wall. He couldn't run or scream, just stand there. When he suddenly stared in the barrel of a gun he finally woke up, shirt wet with sweat, the rooms silence filled by his heavy breaths. "Joder (Fuck)", he mumbled, getting up and putting on a new shirt. It was 0200 (2 am). He decided to get a tea. As he stepped in the community room he was surprised to see the lights on, you standing in pyjamas in front of the boiling kettle, a mug in your hand. "(Name)? What are you doing in the kitchen an two in the morning, tesoro?" You turned around, grinning but tired. "I could ask you the same, Ale" He sighed and grabbed a mug and tea bag (Spanish orange) "Can't sleep. You?" "Same. Do you... Wanna talk about it?", he shook his head. "Not right now, I think.... Just need to think about something else" You shrugged. "Understandable" You two sat down on the couch, sitting in silence, drinking the tea, each lost in their own thoughts. "Would you rather fight one hundred duck sized horses or one horse sized duck?", you suddenly asked. He looked at you like you had grown two horns. "Ehhh, madre mia, the horses, I think?", he answered. "Me too. Even though it would depend on the horse" He chuckled. "Are you trying to distract me?" You grinned "Is it working?" He rolled his eyes "A bit". You leaned you head on his shoulder, and after a moment he put his head on yours. "Good" You continued to banter about random nonsense until, finally, fatigue overcame you and you finally fell asleep. It was the best sleep either of you had gotten in a while.

Gaz: Falling asleep wasn't the problem. But as soon as Gaz drifted off into dream land, he was haunted. Faces of fallen comrades screamed at him for not saving them, the screams of agony of their last moments, the pleas of enemies he tortured filled his mind. With a muffled yelp he shot up in his bed, chest heaving. "Fuck", he muttered, getting up and pacing up and down in his room. His heart was beating like a racehorse. He grabbed his gym bag and decided to head to the training rooms. He was surprised to see the lights on, the thudding of fists hitting the punching bag filling the room. "Not bad, (name)", he stepped closer, looking at you. You sighed. "Can't sleep either?", you asked. He nodded. "Yea. Damn nightmares", he punched the bag, making it swing violently. You stepped back, sitting down on the mat and leaning against the wall. "Wanna talk about it?". He thought for a moment before turning his attention back on the bag. You thought he'd just ignore you and stay quiet, but as he started punching the bag, he muttered under his breath. "I couldn't save them. I killed them" His punches got harder and more aggressive. "It's my fault. It's my fault". You weren't sure who he was talking about, but it didn't quite matter right now. "Hey, hey, Gaz", you tried to calm him down. "Cmere", you patted the mat next to you. He seemed to contemplate for a moment, but then finally sat down next to you. A shuddered breath escaped him as he slumped in on himself. You opened your mouth, but quite honestly you weren't sure what to say. So you just sat in silence, but it wasn't an awkward feeling. It felt... Safe. Suddenly, you felt his head on your shoulder, and smiled, leaning yours against his.

Ghost: For Ghost, a good nights sleep was as common as a unicorn. Everytime he closed his eyes, he was there again. Buried alive, in a coffin, squished next to a decaying body. But this time, he didn't get out. He thrashed and screamed, unbeknownst to him not only in his sleep, but it was no use. He was trapped, he was trapped, he was trapped. Panic flooded his every fiber, but he just wouldn't fucking wake up. His eyes widened when he finally woke up. His breath came in short, shuddering gasps, tears staining his cheeks. He wanted to run, he needed to run or else he'd suffocate. He almost fell over putting on his pants and running shoes before he ripped open his door and ran. He didn't know where, he just needed to run. The sky was still dark, with the faintest shimmer of violet light creeping up the horizon. He aimed for the woods behind the barracks, mindlessly running along the paths. "Fuck, Riley, watch your step, big boy", a sudden voice squeaked. He opened his eyes which he didn't remember closing. He looked down, seeing you knocked over on the ground. "Sorry", he mumbled, giving you a hand and pulling you up. "What are you doing here at this time of night?", you raised an eyebrow. He shifted his weight. "Can't sleep". "Me too...", you looked at him. His gaze was weird... Dead, somehow. "Do you... Want to talk about it?", you asked carefully. "No", he said, voice firm. "Come with me", you grabbed his arm, leading him to a bench nearby, guiding him down and plopping next to him. "I'm here for you, you know that, right?" He gulped. "Yea..." A deep sigh escaped him. "...Thank you". You smiled, leaning your head on his shoulder. "No problem", you mumbled, feeling him relaxing under you.

Horangi: They were here, they'd kill him, fuck, he needed to hide, he needed to hide. Horangi panted, clenching his fist in the sheets. His eyes opened wide and he rubbed the scars on his face. He grabbed a pack of cigarettes and stepped outside, sliding down the wall. He lit it and took a deep breath, letting his head roll back and closing his eyes. "Whatcha doin there?", you voice suddenly sound beside him. "빌어먹을!" (Fucking hell, may be a bit wrong since I don't speak Korean) He had jumped up, sighing when he saw it was just you. "Stop sneaking up to me like that, (name)". You chuckled. "Heh, sorry". You sat down next to him. "Can't sleep?", you looked up at him. He nodded. "I don't wanna talk about it". "Then lets just... Sit" You leaned against him, feeling the tension melt slightly from his form.

König: As soon as he closed his eyes, the memories came. He was strapped to a chair, only dressed in boxer shorts, his hood gone. He felt exposed. They whipped, beat and cut him, the scars still evident on his skin. He stood up on shaky legs, the scars on his body aching. A small tin of ointment stood on the table, which he grabbed and carefully rubbed it in. He was not gonna fall asleep anytime soon again. With a heavy sigh he put on his clothes and shuffled towards the armoury. He plopped down on a bench and started cleaning his guns. "Hey there", he hadn't heard you, and immediately pointed the empty gun at you. "Scheiße! You scared me!", he mumbled. You giggled, sitting down next to him. "Sorry". He rolled his eyes and watched him clean his weapons for a minute. "Can't sleep?", you asked. "Nightmares", he answered shortly. You leaned your head on his shoulder, feeling his muscles move under it as he wiped down the barrel of his gun. "You can always talk to me, you know?", you mumbled. "Yea... Danke"

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ja3hwa · 1 year

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Day 26 : Vampire - SeongJoong

「Title」 : In The Night

「Word count」 : 2.53k

-> Genre: Smut. Angst. Fantasy Au.

Paring: Vampire!Husband!Hongjoong x Dutchess!Reader x Knight!Husband!Seonghwa

[Warnings] : Sweat. Mention of dying and death. Sickness. Blood drinking. Cutting yourself (this could be very triggering please be mindful) some powerplay. Unprotected sex (dont do that). Desperate Dom Hongjoong. Switch-to sub Reader. Dom Seonghwa. Making out. Swearing. Crying. Some angst. Seonghwa kinda just sits and watches ahah. Let me know if I missed anything.

February Filth Fest Event Day Calendar

Something was wrong before you even stepped foot in the throne room. All the torches were trailing a thin line of smoke and a haze had swallowed the moonlight coming from the slightly covered windows. Heavy breathing can be heard from the other side of the room. You can tell it’s Hongjoong before you even cross halfway to the throne.

“Hongjoong?” You call out.

“Stop,” comes a weak plea.

You take a couple of steps closer and see your husband curled up into a ball on the throne with a blanket wrapped around him. He’s sweaty and his hair is sticking to his skin, covering his face. His shoulder moves heavily with each breath, forcing air in and out of his lungs. You reach out a shaky hand to touch his shoulder but he flinches away from you.

“Hongjoong,” you say again.

Slowly and jittery he looks up to you. He’s pale and his eyes are dark in the shadows. There’s drool and snot all over his face and he looks as if he’s been crying. You’ve never seen him like this and it’s scaring you. You don’t know how to comfort him. He’s the Duke of Tarren, he’s a leader. He’s never shown weakness.

“I… I don’t know what’s happening,” he breathes out through gritted teeth feeling pain cloud his judgement.

You clasp your hands close to your chest. “What do you want me to do?” You ask with sincerity. You want to help, you want to make whatever this is, stop.

He looks off for a second before coming back to you. “Seonghwa. Grab Hwa,” he says before curling into a ball groaning in agony.

Knight Seonghwa, he’ll know what’s happening. You rush off, leaving your husband to find help. You rush down the hallways and across the castle with your dress pulled up high. How unladylike some would say. Finally getting to the knight’s quarter you bang on Seonghwa’s door. No response. You knock again and this time there’s an answer from the other side, a very tired answer. The door finally opens and your other husband opens the door with nothing on. You’ve seen his jewels a thousand times so you don’t even take any notice in the moment.

“Put some clothes on, Hongjoong needs you,” you blurt out. “He’s ill and I don’t know what to do!” You exclaim.

Seonghwa’s eyes widen as if he was now fully awoken and moves back into his room to grab some clothes. “Why not grab the doctor!?” He calls back.

“He wanted you!”

With your reply, he only looks even more confused. He slips on his pants and then a belt along with his knife. Just in case. Once dressed, you lead him all the way back to the throne room. The smoke has cleared since the doors have been opened and you can spy that Hongjoong has fallen off the thrown onto the floor. He’s still wrapped up in his blanket and breathing heavily. You and Seonghwa rush over to him as an uncontrollable fear squeezes your chest.

Seonghwa kneels down and rolls Hongjoong over with a hand on his shoulder. Their Duke shouts in pain as if the touch of another is tormentful. Hongjoong sits up and shuffles backwards until he hits the throne with a huff. He looks at them and you’re able to finally see it. His eyes shimmer a scarlet red. They look to you as if you’re just prey and nothing more. His heavy breathing stops and it’s almost as if his eyes narrow down on you, ready to strike within seconds.

Before he can do anything, Seonghwa steps in between you and the Duke. He forcefully places his hand on Hongjoong even though he hisses in pain, trying to get away from him. But he holds him in place as he moves his neck to one side, then the other, shaking it side to side. A sharp breath is taken in like Seonghwa is shocked to see something. You can’t see from where to stand but it must be bad.

“He got you,” Seonghwa curses.

“What? What got him?” You ask.

“No,” Hongjoong almost whimpers. “Get away from me before I hurt you.”

You step around Seonghwa to see what he’s looking at. His fingers brush over a red bite mark on Hongjoong neck. It looks painful and there’s dried blood all around it.

“What’s happened,” you ask again. You have the right to know.

“I’m a fool,” Hongjoong says before covering his head with his blanket, hiding himself away.

Seonghwa sits back with his knees to his chest. His gaze is hazy, he’s thinking, maybe overthinking. You kneel down next to him and place your hand over his. He slowly looks to you, staring at you for the longest time.

“On the brink of dawn today on our way back from South Tarren, we were attacked. It was only one man and he took down five of our finest soldiers,” he tells out, looking off as if reliving the day. “This man separated us and I lost sight of our Duke for only a minute. Just one...But I guess that was all it took.”

“Who was this man?”

“No.” He looks to you. “What was this man. I’ve only heard of tales in the north of these creatures. These creatures that live off blood and with it, they have a strength that is beyond any man. But they crave blood and that’s what this creature was doing. He drained my men of their blood as I saved our Duke. I… I had to leave them there to save him.”

“Why didn’t you tell me this happened?” You ask, more worry swelling up in your throat.

“We didn’t want to tell you of this attack to not worry you,” Seonghwa admits.

You look back to Hongjoong cowering away. You don’t feel disgusted for what he is… or what he’s becoming. You feel pity and you still want to help him. You reach out and move the blanket away from your husband’s face. He flinches away but his red eyes meet your gaze. He expects to see anger, disgust or even fear. But none of that shows in your face. Worry is what he sees. Worry for him? But why?

“You don’t need to hide yourself. Tell me how to help,” you offer him your understanding.

He opens his mouth to talk but he shuts it, thinking his words over before he speaks, “I can’t stop wanting. Everything is so painful. I can feel and hear everything and…” he trails off, looking at your chest, “I can hear your heart. I can hear your blood rushing through it.”

You can feel your heart quicken a little at the thought. But still, no fear comes across you. This is Hongjoong, he wouldn’t harm you. And Seonghwa is here if anything goes sideways. So you do something that you never thought you would.

You grab Seonghwa’s knife from his belt and hold it out. Hongjoong’s eyes widen and your other husband begins to protest but you stop both of them with a raised hand. You are not some damsel that needs to be protected. All you’ve ever wanted to do was help. With Seonghwa being a Knight of Tarren and Hongjoong being the Duke, you have never been able to feel your worth. You’ve kept it to yourself because you knew that both of them will say that you need not worry. But you do.

You hesitate before you cut on top of your arm. You don’t want to harm your own hand or cut too deeply in case you bleed out. It hurts. The pain has you gasping, breathing loudly. The knife is like a fire that won’t stop. The blood already begins to pool and dribble out of your wound. You look over to Hongjoong to see he’s staring at the blood with wide eyes, pupils dilated to small dots.

“It’s alright,” you say as you hold your arm out.

With that command, he grabs you and latches onto your arm. You can feel his teeth clamp down but it isn’t painful. The painful part is him sucking at the wound. Drinking in the blood. but underlining a pleasure deep within. maybe you were becoming delusional, but that didn't matter at this moment. Seonghwa grabs onto your other arm as support, his eyes never leaving Hongjoong. You breathe heavily, controlling yourself as your arm burns a heavenly sensation.

The blanket drops from Hongjoong's shoulders and you realize that he’s naked under it. And he’s growing hard. You can feel your face redden at the sight.

Hongjoong lets go with a gasp, inhaling deeply before coughing. He stares at your arm before touching the blood that’s smeared over his mouth.

“Y/N,” Seonghwa breathes out. “This can’t be good for the Duke.”

“Do you feel better?” You ask Hongjoong, ignoring Hwa at the moment.

Hongjoong nods with a short yes before quickly wiping his mouth with the blanket. He then rips a part of the blanket off with a strength you’ve never seen. He wraps it around your wound tightly and you hiss at the discomfort.

“I’m sorry,” Hongjoong apologises.

You grab his face and looks up at him. He winces at the touch but leans into it after a couple of seconds.

“There’s no need to be sorry,” you assure, bringing him in for a kiss, letting him know it’s alright. That there is no fear towards him. That he is still your husband and lover. You taste copper as you deepen the kiss and grip his hair in your fist.

He pulls away and looks at you, “Please, I… I need you right now.”

Seonghwa chuckles, “Why don’t we take you’s two to your room?”

Hongjoong shakes his head. “No, no. I need you here to make sure I don’t hurt her. As an order from your Duke,” he says as if he’s out of breath.

After a while of staring at Hongjoong, clicking in his head on what’s going on and then looking at you, he agrees. In all honesty, you’re a little turned on at having Seonghwa watch while Hongjoong takes you. But this shouldn’t be a funny matter because Hongjoong is now something different entirely and doesn’t know his own strength enough that he needs Seonghwa here to help. He’s desperate as well and desperation can be a dangerous thing in itself.

Hongjoong is on you as soon as Seonghwa agree. He’s kissing your neck and grazing his newfound fangs over your skin. The feeling goes straight in between your legs. You shuffle back into Seonghwa’s lap and Hongjoong follows you as if he is stalking your body. The blanket is long forgotten and Hongjoong towers over you on his hands and knees. He rides up your night dress with one hand, all the way to expose you to the cold air. You don’t wear anything underneath, for good reasons such as now. This was something Hongjoong taught you.

Seonghwa watches intensely at the flashes of the fangs that Hongjoong keeps grazing over your skin. He holds onto you tightly so you don’t slip away or so Hongjoong doesn’t drag you from him. You feel a light prick of the fangs but they’re gone before you know it. You finally open your eyes you hadn’t realized you'd closed to see Seonghwa grabbing the Duke by his hair.

“Watch yourself,” Seonghwa says firmly. “Don’t bite, my Duke.”

Hongjoong nods vigorously before Seonghwa lets go. One of your hands comes around and grips Seonghwa’s thigh while the other is placed on Hongjoong’s chest.

“Careful, love,” you whisper up to him.

He looks back to you, gazing over you with confusion, then care. He brings his face down to your neck for your comfort. With the hand on Hongjoong’s chest, you bring it down to your pussy and quickly open yourself up. You’re already wet and it’ll have to be enough. With a gentle hand, you guide Hongjoong’s cock into you. He utters and whines into your neck. A sound you’ve never heard from your Duke but it only brings warmth to your chest.

Hongjoong begins at a brutal pace that has you gasping at every thrust. He moves you upwards into Seonghwa’s lap further and further until you’re almost in a sitting position. You bring his head out of your neck and make him look at you.

“It’s okay, calm yourself. Easy, love,” you assure him, kissing his cheek and the corner of his mouth.

He slows down to a pace that sends a shock of pleasure through you with each push. He rests his forehead against yours as you grab Seonghwa’s legs again. You feel his hard-on against your back and it brings a small smile to your face. You push Hongjoong’s face back into your neck as he speeds up a little to ride out his high. You look up to Seonghwa who swallows thickly.

“You can have a go later tonight,” you tell him through pants as you pat his cheek softly. All he can do is stare at you as his face flushes a bright red. He blushes so easily, you thought.

Hongjoong grabs your hips a little too tightly and lifts them a little to get a better angle. You moan out loudly as he hits your spot over and over again, sending thrills through your being. You can feel yourself growing closer with each thrust. The pain is something you never knew you would enjoy. The searing grip of his hands is definitely going to leave bruises but the thought of it strangely excites you. You become louder and louder at just the thought, uncaring of anyone outside the throne room to hear.

The pleasure rips through you all at once, crashing into you like a wave at the beach. You gasp out loud and grab onto Hongjoong tightly as he keeps fucking into you through your orgasm. It’s blissful pain that has you panting and whining. Hongjoong’s thrust becomes stuttered and you know he’s close. He fucks into you once more, and then he dives deep, coming inside of you with a shuttering breath. The warmth that comes with his load sends a shiver down your spine.

The both of you are left panting and slowly, you collect yourselves. Hongjoong pulls out carefully but he stays laying atop of you. Seonghwa keeps holding onto your body as if something else is going to happen. Worry is still written on his face as he stares down at Hongjoong.

“We’ll work through whatever this is, Hwa,” you try and calm your lover's nerves. But he is a Knight for a reason. It is why he is a Knight in the first place. Hongjoong’s shoulders begin shaking and you feel a wetness fall on your collarbone. You lift his head up once more to see hot tears rolling down his face.

“Shh, shh,” you hush as you wipe his tears away. “It’s alright.”

You bring him in for a hug as he sobs. You rub his back as you think of the future. Of what’s to come. You’ll have to become the stone for both of them. None of you knows what Hongjoong truly is now only other than the folk tales that whisper in the night. It’s all a learning experience for all of you. But you’re ready for the challenge that comes with this. and so were they.

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