#I have a weak stomach and gag easily and it’s like a thing I suppose

[aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah]

Been having this problem lately where sometimes when I get too sad I feel like I’m gonna throw up. I’m used to getting so scared I feel that way, but this is new. Like I get so sad that my chest hurts and I start gagging. Google is like “huh yeah that’s not impossible but kinda weird, no?”

#finding new exciting ways to cement my status as a ‘pukey girl’ #I have a weak stomach and gag easily and it’s like a thing I suppose #but this feels different #like pathological maybe #I think they should pay me to live in a lab and be studied #screams from the void

[cozage]

The Daughter's Return Part 3

Chapter 12: The Call Home

Start From Beginning | Next Chapter | Table of Contents | Read on AO3

Characters: female reader x Portgas D. Ace Word Count: 1.7k

The amount of times you were dry heaving into the toilet made you think your body was trying to delay this conversation with your father. You had to admit, you were thanking this baby for prolonging the inevitable. The thought of hearing your father and Marco on the other side of the transponder snail made you start another round of gags into the toilet. 

A knock came at the door, Whitey’s friendly voice asking if you were okay. 

You almost laughed at her question. How could you answer that? You were pregnant. Thatch was dead. Teach was a traitor. Ace had abandoned you, and now he was set to be publicly executed. 

You were far from okay. 

And yet, when you answered, you simply let out a weak “I’m fine!” Even though your heart and soul had been collapsing in on itself for almost a month now. 

You and Ace were supposed to be going to doctor's visits. Your baby was the size of an avocado now, if you remembered correctly from that pamphlet the nurse had given you back in Alabasta. 

You should’ve defeated Teach easily. The two of you working together would’ve been no match for him. It didn’t matter what his devil fruit was. The two of you would’ve won. 

If Ace wouldn’t have acted irrationally, the two of you would still be together. The two of you would’ve been okay. Life would be a little less bleak. 

But Ace never thought about the consequences of things. He only ever just did them. 

God, you were so tired. 

You began crying again, hot and angry tears. You wanted to scream or punch something, anything to get rid of your frustration. You wanted to create a lava flow so extreme that you created a new island from your grief. 

But you couldn’t do any of that right now. You could only cry. 

“I’m coming in,” Whitey said, opening the door. 

“Hey babe,” she said softly. “I told you it’s going to be okay. Do you really think the Whitebeard is going to let his second commander die?”

“It’ll be a bloodbath,” you sobbed. “People are going to die regardless of what we choose to do.”

“Let’s not think like that,” she said, although she knew you were right. “Let’s go talk to Pops and see what ideas come up.”

You wiped your face free of tears and took a deep breath. You had to be composed for this meeting. You had an idea, and you knew your father would only let you do it if he thought you were in an adequate mental state. The plan was risky, but at least you were the only one being put at risk. 

The snail began to call, and the knot in your stomach tightened. 

“Yes?” Your father’s voice boomed from the snail. He sounded exhausted. You couldn’t blame him. 

“Hey Pops,” Whitey said. “It’s-“

“Whitey!” His voice became more enthusiastic, but you could still hear the exhaustion. “Tell me you have good news.”

“I do.” Whitey nudged you, motioning for you to speak. 

“Hey dad.” Your voice came out weaker than you wanted it to, but still confident, given the circumstances. 

“Y/N.” You could hear your father’s voice get watery, and you knew he was just as relieved to hear your voice as you were to hear his. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“Listen, dad.” You took a deep breath. “I have a plan.”

“A plan?”

“If Whitey can give me Ace’s vivre card, I can intercept them before he gets to Impel Down and-“

His voice cut you off, full of rage. “Absolutely not.”

“Dad!” You cried, trying to stay calm. “It’s the best way for us to-“

“No. Your ass is coming RIGHT back to this ship and you are staying here until I say otherwise.”

“I can do it!” you argued. “I need to-“

“You are not doing it. That’s an order.”

“You know I can do it!” You screamed. You knew you were losing your cool, but you didn’t care. Ace’s life was at risk. Everything was at risk. 

“I want you to report back to the ship.” You could hear he was struggling to keep his composure. 

“That’s not fair!”

“I don’t want to hear SHIT about fair. What’s not fair is you keeping secrets! I have tolerated your rebellions and let you get away with far too much these past few months. But this is crossing a line. You WILL remain with Whitey until you return and then we will have a private discussion on your involvement in this rescue mission going forward. Is that understood?”

He knew. Of course he knew. Marco would’ve told him as soon as he read the report. 

“Dad, ple-”

“Whitey,” your father said, ignoring you. “Do whatever you have to in order to keep her on that ship. Put sea prism cuffs on her. Throw her in the brig if you need to. But do not let her get off that ship until you are here. Is that clear?”

You looked at Whitey, your eyes full of silent begging. You needed her to fight for you. To vouch that you could succeed. 

“Of course, Pops,” she said, giving you a remorseful look. “We can do that.”

“Whitey-“ you pleaded. 

“Y/N.” He sounded so tired. “For once in your life, don’t cause more problems than there already are.”

His words made tears prick at the corner of your eyes. They were harsh, but they were true. All you had done was cause problems recently. For everyone around you. The least you could do was follow this one order to return home. 

“Yes sir,” you whispered, and the line disconnected without further conversation. 

“Im not going to lock you up,” Whitey said. “But you are going to have to stay in my view the whole time.”

You gave her a weak smile, thankful you wouldn’t have to spend your journey in the cells below deck. “Just like old times, huh? When the others couldn’t pay us to be apart.”

A wave of relief visibly washed over her face, thankful you weren’t going to resist. “Just like old times.”

You slept with Whitey in the captains quarters that night. 

Slept wasn’t the right word. You couldn’t sleep. You just kept thinking of Ace, chained to a wall and being beaten and ridiculed. Had he given up on life as much as you had? 

You knew you couldn’t go get him. The fleets that were escorting him were going to be full of high level marines. Even on a good day, you weren’t sure if you could do it. Trying to do it now would be suicide. 

But maybe there was something else you could do. Someone else who could help. You just had to get to them. 

You carefully climbed out of bed, trying your best not to wake Whitey. Every creak made you wince, but Whitey stayed asleep. 

The door was the hardest part. You knew it would groan as you opened it, and there was nothing you could do to prevent the sound. 

Slowly, painfully, you opened it, your eyes glued to Whitey. She stirred in her sleep a few times, but she never opened her eyes. You finally opened it enough to slip through, and you silently shut it back into place. 

You quickly moved to the kitchen, grabbing food rations and other supplies that you would need. You were going back to the New World. It would be a long journey, especially with your current state. But you would do it if it meant saving Ace. 

You would need a bottle of sake, and you found the perfect one. A large one from the East Blue. It wasn’t nearly enough for the favor you had to ask, but hopefully he would be gracious. 

“What are you doing?”

Fuck. You hadn’t been fast enough. 

“Whitey!” You turned around, her icy glare on you. “I was just-“

“Don’t lie,” she snapped. 

“Please Whitey I…I need to do something.”

“Do you even have a plan?” She demanded. “You can’t take on that kind of naval power even on your best day, and you know it.”

“I’m not going to rescue him!” As much as you wanted to, you knew Whitey was right. You couldn’t do it alone. 

She scoffed, clearly doubting your words. “You’re not? Really?”

“I swear Whitey. I’m going to ask for help. I know I can’t beat a naval fleet, but there is something I can do. Someone I can talk to.” You looked around desperately. “Please, just go back to bed.”

She shook her head. “You know I can’t do that.”

“Whitey please-“

“I can’t let you leave after explicit instructions,” she yelled, and you feared that other people would come to investigate the commotion soon. “I’d be disobeying my captain. And you might be able to do that, but I can’t.”

Your words wouldn’t convince her. You’d have to use strength. Against your best and oldest friend. 

Tears pooled in your eyes. “Please don’t make me do this.”

She closed her eyes. “You have to.”

You took your bracelet and held it across your knuckles. “I’m sorry, Whitey. I don’t want to-“

“Good luck,” she whispered, a smile on her lips. “You can do it. You can find a way to save him.”

You swung as hard as you could, aiming for the spot you knew would knock her out. Your fist and sea prism bracelet connected with her pressure point, and she slumped to the ground, unconscious. 

You grabbed your things and took off towards your sloop, which was still connected to the back of Whitey’s ship. 

“Okay baby,” you whispered to your stomach. “Just let me get to help, and then you can make me as sick as you want, okay? Just cooperate until then. We can do this.”

You really were a terrible person. Lying to everyone around you, knocking your best friend unconscious, forcing your unborn child to go through dangerous waters with little sleep and little nutrition. You had never been this careless or thoughtless in your life. 

If you kept acting like this, you were going to die. You knew that. But you didn’t care. Ace promised that you could die first. If he was moving up his timetable, so were you. 

You took off on your sloop, pulling out the vivre card to follow. Onto the New World. 

Onto find Shanks.

--

Tag list! @taeyoge @teiza @tojislawyer @trafalgardnami @bloopbopsblog @dancingnewcat @dxestyi @flooofity @nyxthedragon01 @deadsnothere @h-rhodes1598  @morgyyyyyyy @trafalgardvivi  @fiestynatureweeb @frogpogjoghurt @beepboopcowboy @ms-portgas @luvyallbabes @appalost @zuchkaa @saybeyonce @stray-npc @kitsunechan707 @theyluvmesblog @heartysworld @aira-needs-sleep  @mothmomjay @ophelias-flowerss @aqualein @sehyojae @fanficwriter5

#one piece #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #one piece x reader #one piece x you #portgas ace x you #portgas ace x reader #portgas d ace x reader #ace x y/n #ace x reader #portgas d ace #portgas d. ace #cozage #✧˚ace✧˚

[winter-soldier-vibes]

“I Don’t Hate You Like I Hate Myself” (Bucky x reader)

“I don’t hate you like I hate myself”

Bucky x reader

Word count: 4224

Warnings: eating disorder/bulimia, self hate

Summary: Reader suffers from an eating disorder and Bucky finds her purging one night. 

A/N: Sorry it’s been so long, I really am. It’s been a hell of a few months. Still working through it and writing has been helping me. I hope you are all doing well, reach out to me if you need me, and of course, if this in ANY WAY may harm your journey, feel free to skip <3

------------------------

“Goodnight guys” you said, a slight laugh in your voice. You stood up with your empty plate and placed it in the sink. There were a few groans around the table.

“But it’s so early,” Tony said, the others nodding in agreement

You looked at the watch on your wrist. “It’s 8 pm, Tony.”

“Exactly!” Thor said, shaking his head as if it were obvious. 

You shook your head at them. “Goodnight everyone,” you said, turning around and walking up the stairs.

As soon as you were out of sight, you let out a breath of relief and dropped the smile. You rubbed your face in exhaustion and closed your eyes a little, feeling heavier with each step. Truth be told, you were exhausted. But you still had something else you had to do. 

You pick up the pace walking to your room, thoughts spiraling faster as you closed the door and locked it. “F.R.I.D.A.Y., turn on soundproofing.” you said.

“As you wish, y/n.” the A.I. responded. 

You sighed, and went into the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind you. You knew no one would come in, but it was a force of habit by now. You tied your hair back and filled a hidden water bottle with tap water before chugging it, and then lifted the toilet seat. ‘Damn family dinners,’ you thought to yourself. You took a deep breath as you leaned over the toilet, pushing one hand into your stomach and used the other to stick 3 fingers down your throat. After a few small gags, you started choking up your dinner as well. 

You had tears streaming down your face, not necessarily from sadness but from exertion. You coughed after one particular gag, until eventually nothing more came up. You placed your hands on either side of the toilet to steady yourself, back heaving up and down as you tried to catch your breath. Your heart raced and your head pounded, so you tightly shut your eyes and shook your head slightly. 

You stood in front of the mirror, sideways. You lifted your shirt and sucked in your stomach as much as you could. It was flat.

‘That’s much better,’ you thought to yourself. You flushed the toilet and turned on the shower. You became emotionless, running through the routine you always did. Wash your hands, cold water to the face, spray the air freshener, and take a shower to wash away the shame. 

You didn’t want to do this to yourself. You just didn't know what else to do. 

You thought it was just about the food. It was just about the way you looked, the size of your clothes, the number on the scale. That was all it was supposed to be. How did it grow to be so much more?

Every time was supposed to be the last time. You never meant to do it. But any time you ate anything, you just felt sick to your stomach. At first it was with shame and anxiety - now it was a physical nausea that overtook you. You thought this would make it easy to eat less, and it did. 

Until you felt sad

Or mad

Or stressed

Or a mission went slightly wrong

Or you began overthinking the smallest things

And whenever you felt anything negative you just needed to replace that with something else. A distraction, something to numb you out. To make you feel less than this overwhelming, crushing emotion. You needed to get it out. 

So you ate.

And then you threw it all up with all of your emotions, until you were left in a quiet bliss

You knew, logically, as a human, that you needed to eat. But it always felt wrong. Like it wasn’t for you, like you were weak for eating. You weren’t naive, you knew the side effects of bulimia. You had begun to experience a few of them - dizziness mainly. But it hadn’t become an issue yet. It didn’t interfere with your work, therefore, it wasn’t a problem. No one had caught on aside from a few minorly concerned looks. Not that you would ever let anyone in. 

It wasn’t that you didn’t trust the team, God no. You loved them and would trust them with anything other than your mind. No, it was more of an embarrassed sickening feeling you got. You didn’t know what to say, there was no reasonable explanation for this. Hell, you didn’t even quite know why you did what you were doing. It was easier this way, simpler. 

It was your problem to fight. Not theirs. You knew your limits. 

With a sigh, you turn off the shower water, stepping out and wrapping a towel lazily around yourself. You kept your eyes from the mirror as you stepped into your room and over to your dresser to put on some pajamas. Sweatpants and a tank top. You sat on your bed and flopped back, rubbing your hands over your face. 

Another day done. Countless more to go.

You looked at your phone to check any notifications. Aside from a few news updates, there were 2 texts from Bucky:

‘You okay?’ received 42 minutes ago

‘If you’re not you know where I am. Sleep well’ received 38 minutes ago.

You smiled a little. You were all a family, you and the team. Bucky and you seemed to bond in the way that introverts tend to. The way that brings out the extrovert in the other. The way that hanging out didn’t have to mean you spoke because you both found comfort in the silence. You grew the closest with him, often checking in with each other. If he had a nightmare, he came to you. Or you went to him, depending on how bad it was. You would talk to him about small matters, but you would never think of telling him about any of this.

You shuddered at the thought. No one could ever know about this. 

You closed your phone after deciding it was best not to respond. It had been too much time since he had sent the messages, and if you sent something now he might wonder what you had been doing for almost 45 minutes. Best to not reply until morning, blaming it on the exhaustion that never left your body. 

You placed your phone on your nightstand and rolled over, shutting your eyes and willing sleep to come easily. Over time you began sleeping less and less, and now it was a miracle if you were able to at all. Maybe it was the hunger pains, or the reflux, or this overwhelming fear that something bad was going to happen. The stress of being an Avenger, of keeping up your act, of being perfect all the time. 

It was exhausting. But not in the way that sleep would ever be able to fix. 

No, this was a type of tiredness that kept you awake. You had to stay alert all the time. Sleep wasn’t restful or enjoyable anymore. It was elusive. You needed a break from your life. Sleep wouldn’t ever be able to provide that. Not when you would be waking up to deal with it all over again. 

You sighed. You hated this. You hated what you were doing, you hated that you couldn’t stop. You hated that you couldn’t tell anyone about it. Not because you didn’t trust them, but because you didn’t know if you wanted to stop. And if you let them in, you didn’t want to be letting them down by slipping up. And you wanted to stop but...you didn’t know how. You didn’t feel good enough, you didn’t feel like you deserved it. And nothing else could make you feel better like this could

You hated yourself. You hated yourself in a way that no one else ever could. In a way that made you wonder if you would ever be able to love yourself with the innocence you once did. 

You turned over again, willing your racing thoughts to slow to a steady jog at least. You took deep breaths, still trying to calm your pounding heart from earlier. As you started to relax a little, feeling closer to sleep, you remembered one last thing you had to do.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., turn soundproofing off,” you said softly.

“Of course, Y/N,” the A.I. responded.

And with that, you drifted off.

-----

You were rudely awakened by a few sharp knocks at your door. You startled awake and sat up quickly, only to be greeted by a huge headrush. “One minute,” you called out groggily, rubbing your eyes and standing up. Once again, your vision began to black out but you ignored it. You were used to it at this point. It always went away eventually. You pulled over a cardigan and padded over to the door, opening it.

You opened the door to a very much awake Bucky, who seemed to have just gotten back from a run. You weakly smiled, hoping you didn’t look as tired as you felt. Unfortunately, you don’t think that was the case, seeing as Bucky’s smile almost immediately faltered as he took in your tired face. Dark circles under your eyes and a smile that didn’t reach your eyes. 

“Yes, Buck?” you asked, pulling him out of his concerned stare.

“Are you okay?” he asked worriedly. He knew what being tired felt like, but he had never seen it to this extent on anyone aside from him. He knew you had been tired lately, going to bed early, waking up late, yet seeming to grow more tired by the day. 

You sighed and rubbed your eyes a little. “Yeah, I’m good. Just trying to wake up a little.” you said with a little laugh, dismissive. 

Bucky worried about you. He felt close to you but he worried that you didn’t feel close to him. He could always count on you to be someone he could turn to. But no matter how hard he tried, you didn’t seem comfortable opening up to him. He knew it would take time and he didn’t take it personally. He just wanted to be able to be there for you the way that you were there for him. He knew something had been bothering you, he just didn’t know how to approach it. 

He looked into your eyes. “You sure about that?” he asked.

You mustered the best smile you could. “Yes, I am fine. Just -”

“Tired. I know what that’s like,” he said with a slight laugh. “You know that you don’t have to be fine right?” he said reassuringly. It had become his line with you, to make sure that you knew he was there if you wanted to open up. And while you found it very sweet, you couldn’t help but feel guilty. You wanted to trust him, and you hated making him feel like you didn’t trust him. You just didn’t know how. 

Instead you opted for a nod with a small laugh, desperate to get as far away from this conversation as possible. “I swear, I’m fine,” you said a little more strongly this time. 

Bucky nodded, unconvinced but willing to drop it. If you weren’t ready to talk about it, that was okay. For now. “Do you want to come down and get some breakfast? I think Sam and Clint were making a ton of food for everyone. 

You ran through your options. If you didn’t go down, people would be suspicious. If you did, you would have to eat and find time to get rid of it after, plus deal with the banter of the team for leaving so early. You weren’t supposed to eat yet, it was far too early. But Bucky was already suspicious, so it would be best if you just went down and got rid of it later. All of this ran through your mind in a second before you said:

“Yeah, sure, I’ll be down in a few minutes,” to which Buck turned around and you closed the door. 

After a few seconds you closed your eyes and sighed heavily, resting your head against the door. You cursed yourself internally for agreeing but knew it was the option that raised the least suspicion. You went into the bathroom to wash your face quickly and before you knew it you were studying your body. Turning around, looking at yourself from every possible angle. It happened every time. Coming back to reality, you dressed quickly in some baggy clothes before taking a deep breath and heading down to the kitchen area. 

You were greeted with the smell of all things breakfast, and when you walked in you saw loads of everything there could possibly be. They really went all out. Which made you even more nervous: you didn’t want to seem ungrateful or hurt their feelings. 

You had stopped at the door, and Tony was the first to see you.

“Morning Sleeping Beauty,” he said, bringing the small conversation to a stop for a moment while everyone recognized your appearance. You gave a small wave and a smile before coming in and sitting down. You tried your best to not show your anxiety or exhaustion. There was so much food, and you didn’t want to offend people by not eating but you didn’t know if you would be able to stop once you started. 

Everyone was sitting around the table making small conversation and starting to eat. You were taking deep breaths as nonchalantly as you could. You grabbed a few things to put on your plate, trying to keep a steady hand. You didn’t want to draw any attention to yourself. Normally it wouldn’t be a problem - you’d have a few days of no one noticing you skipping meals, then have dinner all together before you all parted ways. You could prepare for that. But breakfast the morning after was sprung on you, and you didn’t think you should be eating in this small of a time window. 

You tried to join in on the conversation, pushing things around on your plate as you did so. You thought you were hiding it well, but from across the table you caught Bucky glancing your way with concern. So you started eating more. 

It was delicious, you couldn’t deny that. You soon cleaned your plate and began filling it back up with more this time. You could feel your stomach expanding and your heart rate was picking up. As you finished your second plate of food, you felt the anxiety set in. You tried to remind yourself that it was a normal amount, and that you hadn’t been eating enough for a normal person. Eating was normal. Eating was normal. 

But you weren’t normal. 

“Well, this has been great, and thank you Sam and Clint, but I think I’m going to go lie down,” you interjected into the conversation, pushing your chair out.

“Leaving again so early?” Tony asked, not unkindly. You looked around the table before landing eyes on Bucky, concern filling his face.

You swallowed nervously before saying. “Yeah, sorry guys. See you in a bit!” you added and hoped you didn’t sound as desperate as you felt to leave the room. You turned around and walked towards the door, conversation picking back up while Bucky watched you leave. Something didn’t sit right with him.

After you had gotten around the corner you picked up the pace, resisting breaking into a jog. You made it to your room, heart pounding in your chest and nearly threw yourself in, closing the door and turning to the bathroom. You closed that door too, locking it as a force of habit. You were usually methodical about this process, you had a system. But you were desperate at this point. You tied your hair up messily and filled up a hidden water bottle at the sink before chugging it and turning to the toilet. 

Back in the kitchen, Bucky decided that he was going to go check on you. He excused himself and thanked Sam and Clint for the food before heading in the direction of your room. 

You were bent over the toilet retching. You hated this so much. It hurt, it didn’t feel good, but you felt so relieved doing it. You couldn’t explain it. You didn’t like doing it, but it somehow was the one thing that helped you feel better.

What you didn’t realize was that you hadn’t locked your room door. Nor did you turn on the soundproofing feature of your room. 

Bucky knocked on your room door, to which he was met with silence. You simply didn’t hear him. Not liking the feeling in his stomach, he let himself in. To his surprise, you weren’t there. But then he heard you retching. 

He furrowed his brows. Why hadn’t you said you were sick? Closing the door behind him, he walked over to the bathroom door before knocking. And you froze.

“Are you okay in there?” you heard him ask.

Shit. 

You swallowed before responding with “Yeah, I’m fine.” You cursed yourself for the weakness and wavering in your voice. You quickly flushed the toilet and turned to the mirror. You were a mess, red face and tear-streaked face. You washed your hands and then your face, trying to get rid of as much inflammation as you could. 

You took a deep breath and leaned against the sink. How could you have forgotten the most important parts of your process? How could you have been so stupid? How were you going to talk yourself out of this?

“Y/n?”

You opened the door with your head down as you tried to walk around Bucky. But he gently stood in front of you before guiding your face to his, his eyes widening at your red eyes and face. 

“Why didn’t you tell anyone you were sick?” he asked.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

“You’re not fine if you’re throwing up. I swear, if Sam made something that made you sick -”

“It’s not like that” you interrupted.

Bucky paused for a moment. “What do you mean it’s not like that?”

You clenched your jaw and looked away, backing up a little. “Nevermind.”

Bucky stood in front of you again, a little more insistent now. “No, what do you mean? Are you sick?”

“Buck-”

“Y/n.” he insisted. 

You took a deep breath. “I throw up sometimes,” you said quietly, but loud enough for Bucky to hear it. He shifted on his feet. “What do you mean?”

You looked at him sadly, shaking your head. “It won’t make sense,” you said.

“Then help me understand,” he said. 

You took a few breaths before trying to piece it together. “I don’t know what happened. I was just supposed to lose a few pounds. And sometimes I would eat too much, and throwing up made me feel better. And now I can’t stop. It was just supposed to be about losing weight but now I can’t stop,” you finished before finally looking him in the eye again.

Bucky’s face contorted to one of more concern. Your eyes filled with tears at finally revealing your secret. Bucky came closer to you and pulled you into a hug as you sobs started wracking your body. Bucky held you tightly, whispering that it was okay. He breathed deeply and steadily, hoping you would be able to fall in rhythm with him. 

You were able to start breathing with him and calming down. After a few moments of silence, Bucky asked “How long has this been going on?”

You shook your head. “I don’t even know.” you said, defeated. 

Bucky took a deep breath. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

You shrugged weakly. “It wasn’t your problem.” you said.

“I want to help, y/n,” he said, pulling away to look at you. “You always help me or anyone else on the team whenever we need it. If we were going through this wouldn’t you want to help us?”

“Of course I would,” you said firmly, tears building up.

“Then why can’t you let me help you the way you help me?” he asked.

You shook your head lightly. “It’s not that simple, Buck.”

He looked at you, confused. “What do you mean?”

“It’s not like that,” you said a little louder, turning around. You could feel yourself beginning to break.

“What’s the difference between me and you? Why can’t-”

“Because I don’t HATE you!” you exclaimed, turning around with pain in your eyes. “It’s not the same thing because I don’t hate you. I want to help you, because you are a good person, and I like you. I don’t like myself. I deserve this so I’ve accepted that this is what I need to do. I don’t care if it hurts me, because I don’t care about myself!” you yelled, tears streaming down your face again and breathing heavily. “That’s the fucking difference.”

Bucky looked at you sadly. “Is that really how you feel about yourself?” he asked, saddened even more when you began nodding. “What did you do that was so wrong?”

You shook your head, anger calming down into sadness. “I don’t know. I never liked myself. I don’t feel like I belong anywhere, and I never have. And I’ve accepted that I may never feel like I will. This isn’t the kind of sick I know how to heal. People catch a cold or break a bone and there are active steps to fix it and a set timeline before it gets better. And it won’t bother them again. But this,” you tap both sides of your head repeatedly, “this I can’t fix. I don’t know how, I don’t know where to start. I’ve tried but it never really goes away. There’s no medicine or action or rest period or any kind of shit like that. It’s me against me. I’m always gonna lose this battle. I’m not the kind of sick that can get better, Buck,” you shrugged slightly and shook your head. “Not for me.” 

Bucky’s face saddened even more, knowing all too well the feeling of not belonging. He knew the pain of self doubt and self hate, and feeling like you were a bad person. But he had done so many things as the winter soldier, how he killed so many innocent lives. You were one of the kindest people Bucky knew. He didn’t understand how you could feel this way. 

Bucky started walking closer to you slowly. “Y/n...I know what that feeling is like. You know that. But I don’t understand why you would feel that way about yourself.” he was now standing in front of you. “You’re one of the most generous people I know, you’ve helped me so much. I know you’ve helped everyone here. No one here hates you, y/n.” 

“I know,” you said. Before Bucky could respond you continued, “I know there’s no reason for me to feel this way. I know logically I didn’t do anything wrong. But it’s just this...this thing in my head. And it never goes away. And I know all it tells me is lies but the only way I can make it stop is by throwing up. I know it’s messed up, I just can’t make it stop,” you said, looking down again.

Bucky guided your face back to meet his. “Can I try to help? You can always talk to me about anything, you know that right?”

You breathed out. “I don’t know,” you said truthfully. 

Bucky noticeably stiffened, and you quickly added, “It’s not that I don’t trust you. Not at all, I do, it’s just that I don’t want to disappoint you.” you said. “I don’t want to fuck up and hurt you because I couldn’t be strong. I don’t want to bother you every goddamn day with this petty bullshit I have going on.” you took a deep breath and looked away again. “I don’t want you to leave out of frustration that I couldn’t be strong for you.”

“Is that really what you think I would do?” he asked. When you nodded, he went on. “I would never be disappointed at you trying your best. It’s okay to mess up, to have bad days, it’s not going to be perfect. Life can be a little fucked up sometimes, but what I’ve learned is that the hardest way through it is alone.” he said with emphasis, knowing all too well the pain of keeping your emotions in. 

You leaned into him again, his arms wrapping you into a hug. “Promise you won’t leave?” you asked softly.”

His arms tightened around you. “I’m not going anywhere.”

#marvel #MCU #mcu fanfiction #mcu imagine #Bucky Barnes #buckybarnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x y/n #bucky imagine #bucky #tw eating disorder #tw bulimia #tw insecurity #fanfiction #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #comfort #bucky barns fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barns x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barns x y/n #bucky barnes comfort #comfort fanfic

[softscummymammon]

€Unexpected Acquaintance€

Assisted by:: @jinjinjinjin

❃.✮:▹»»——⍟——««◃:✮.❃

Sukuna just wanted this day to end. He was already in a bad mood from the storm last night, where he got little of his much needed sleep, and his mood had only gotten worse when he was faced with a bunch of "nature friendly" bastards protesting near the docks where his boat was tied down.

Now, he just wanted to get his daily load of fish for the market, and have a nap without dealing with any other goody two shoe hypocrites. He could already feel the headache building up behind his eyes.

Though the gentle rocking of the boat over the surface of the water did ease him slightly. People besides other fishermen were always so confused when he actually said something about himself and it happened to his be career in fishing. They were always so astounded when he said he could stay on a boat for a whole day. Weaklings, all of them.

Rubbing at his sore eyes, Sukuna glared at the surface of the horizon and took a sip of the alcohol in his canteen. Tucking the tin back into his wader's pocket, he patted the pocket for safe keeping.

Walking to the front of the boat, he checked his net markers he left a few days ago. Sukuna gasped when he saw his marker bobbing up and down frantically. Getting his equipment ready, he tugged on some gloves and grabbed at the net right under the marker.

Taking a breath, Sukuna started tugged on the net. Grabbing every piece of net coming from the water, Sukuna huffs as he pulls the net further and further from the water. The sound of splashing water reached his ears and he smirked in victory.

Putting all the access netting into one hand, Sukuna quickly reaches behind him for the mechanical hook. The machinery on his boat was built and bought by him only, so only he knew how it worked. By reaching for the net first, he can easily tie the access onto the hook and pull up the rest of it out of the water.

Doing exactly what was needed, he tied the net to the hook and grabbed onto the leaver and started cranking the leaver clockwise. The machinery raised the net out of the water better than he ever could. The load he hauled onto his deck made him smile and rub his hands together gleefully.

" This shipment is definitely worth a pretty penny. Now, all I gotta do it sort you out, fish sticks. "

*Slap* "Who you callin' fish sticks, blubber mouth?! "

Sukuna froze. Looking up, he raised his hand to his face and wiped away some water the fish that had been thrown at him left on his cheek. Peering down at the fish now flopping on his deck, he gave the thing a death glare; as if that would give him any answers. He must really be going crazy-

"Up here, blubber-for-brains. "

His eyes snapped up towards the voice. But the air in his lungs escaped as if they were punched out of him. A human(?)'s upper torso was visible at the top of the net. It was leaning against the hook of the machinery and was throwing and catching a fish in its hand.

Sukuna raised a brow, " What the fuck? "

The thing raised one of its brows back, " Nice use of language, Oh Smart One. I thought you humans were supposed to be intelligent. Though, every one of your kind I've encountered uses fowl language, so smarts must just be a myth. "

Sukuna growled at the things snarky commentary, " Oh yeah? And what kind of intelligent creature like you gets stuck in a fishing net, huh? So much for being smart. "

The thing snarled, showing off rust colored stained teeth dyed by no doubt blood as sharp as many of Sukuna's own fileting knives. It held tightly onto the fish in its hand, " Watch your mouth, human, I still got a whole lotta of ammo here, and your face is lookin' like a big ol' target from where I'm sittin'. "

Sukuna rose an unimpressed eyebrow and pulled out a harpoon gun he kept in the captain's quarters, " Mine hurts worse. "

The thing flinched back and hissed at the gun, but slowly set down the poor he probably squeezed to death in his panic. The thing made a whiny sound in the back of its throat, " I didn't choose to get stuck here. I was getting chased by some shark mers. Those nasty ones only know the smell of blood and the next potential meal. I'd choose to be anywhere else right now, trust me. "

Sukuna huffed, " Yeah, sure. " Putting away the gun, Sukuna sighed and looked back up to the sulking thing. Looking closer, he was the slightest shine of scales decorating the cheeks, neck, and forearms of the thing. Its eyes were steely and sunken in, as if it's seen things beyond it's life time.

Sukuna chuckled upon realization, " You're a mermaid, aren't you? "

The mer scoffed, " Merman, thank. But 'mer' is just fine. I still don't get why ya humans always gotta gender code things. Damn, just call us what we are? "

Sukuna chuckled again, " What? Nuisances? "

The mer hissed again, " We wouldn't be if ya humans knew to keep to yerselves. Ain't this section of the coast off limits to fishers like yerself? "

Sukuna shrugged, not giving an answer. The mer scoffed and crossed it's arms over it's chest. Sukuna looked at it up and down, taking in everything he could. He hummed delightfully.

The mer must have caught on, " What'cha lookin at me fer? Think I'm some sorta snack for yer to eat? "

Sukuna shook his head no, " Nah, I was just rememberin how much one of your kind goes to sell on the blackmarket. You gotta be worth something. No rich bastard would give up the opportunity to call a thing like you pet. "

The mer's eyes went thin, but already creamy skin paled considerably, " You wouldn't... "

Sukuna rose a brow, " Oh, and why wouldn't I? I could definitely use the money. "

The thing stayed quiet, before it soon started to shake. Sukuna was about to sneer and comment about it being weak, but paused when a face formed from agony and rage shot up to glare at him. Sukuna had to keep himself from tensing and tried to look as calm as he could be.

The mer growled, " That's all that ya humans are. Selfish and greedy monsters only willing to do something if you get money in return. Do you know how many of our kind is sacrificed, hunted, and killed just so the others can live? Just so you humans can play god and reap what we mer's sew. "

Sukuna gulped, remembering the auction show he was emailed an invite to since he contributed a large amount of fish to the CEO of the company. It was a disgusting show of wealth. How millionaires and billionaires fought over a small little thing that held a resemblance to the one right in front of him.

The mer wasn't done, but tears of grief started to roll down it's eyes, " How many of our guppies, our children, are pulled from our arms to be sold like live stock?! You are no better! "

Sukuna had enough of this tantrum, " Do not bundle me with those people! I'd never harm a child, even if I am considered a monster by other people. I will not allow it to be done by a fish like you! "

The mer shrunk back, breathing irregular and struggling, like a faint wheeze. It swallowed roughly and looked away. Sukuna rumbled, now over flowing with guilt he felt he should not harbor. Looking back up, he became slightly alarmed at the shallow and wheezy breaths the mer was taking.

Mer's need water, his mind supplied. Sukuna growled, and hackles raising when he caught the mer flinching again. Walking away from the net, he went down below deck on got out a giant glass tank he kept in case he needed to keep a fish alive for more profit.

Taking it up the stairs and on to the deck, he set it down on some secure boxes and grabbed a bucket to start filling it with water. He had to make haste though, or the mer would die from drownin? Suffocation? And all of this work would be for waste.

Once the tank was full and covered from the beating ray of the sun, Sukuna walked over to the leaver controlling the hook and rotated it counter clockwise. He watched as the machine lowered the net onto the deck and he let go of the leaver. Once the machine stopped, he stepped up to the net and untied it.

Being this up close and personal to the mer, he watched as the sun made the scales look iridescent. Slipping his arms underneath the torso of the fish being, he pulled it out of the other fish and dragged it towards the tank. The mer roused slightly, trying to fruitlessly push Sukuna away. The bigger man scoffed and dropped the mer into the tank.

The reaction was instant, the mer took a deep breath through the large gills covering it's side and it slumped against the rim of the glass tank. Sukuna watched, looking at the mer's tail that could he classified as art in itself. It was beautiful, though he would never admit it. The thin tarp Sukuna draped over some boxes didn't stop the light from the sun bouncing off the glittering scales.

Sukuna's gaze went back up to the mer's face, startling to see the mer was also looking at him. It's hair fell in it's face, blocking out most of it. It puffed, blowing some of the strands out of it's eyes to get a better look.

Sukuna hated the way his chest constricted at the show. The mer raised a webbed hand, and Sukuna slowly took it and shook it. He made a face when he pulled it back and fake gagged at the slimy feeling left on his skin. The thing laughed at his disgust and shook it's head, getting water everywhere.

It smirked, " The name's _____ _____. What's yours, blubber man? "

Sukuna sneered at the nickname, " That's not my name. It'd Sukuna Ryoumen, nothing else. "

The mer smirked, " Well now I gotta call you that every time I address ya. "

Sukuna growled, " Don't you dare. " The glint in the fish's eyes didn't quell any of the building dread that sat in the bottom of his stomach. He really debated on if he should sell the fish or not.

❃.✮:▹»»——⍟——««◃:✮.❃

#anime headcanons #jjk x male reader #ryōmen sukuna #sukuna ryomen #x male reader #male character #mermaid male reader #sukuna ryoumen x reader #sukuna x male reader #tw blood #tw gore #tw fishing #tw harmful endangerment #alternate universe

[shorkbrian]

Father Figure - Disappointed

Prelude - I get so many asks about the same thing and so I put them at the bottom lol otherwise this would be so long. Also I combined them, RIP sorry pals I suck. Anyways, remember guys, bad people exist. If someone is hurting you or you suspect someone you know is being hurt, please talk to someone, please don’t let yourself settle into “This is normal, this is fine”. It’s not normal, and it’s not fine. The national sexual assault hotline in America is 1-800-656-4673 and it’s from a organization called RAINN.

https://www.rainn.org

They have a chat service too, if you prefer texting over calling.

Please stay safe y’all

Pairing - Stepdad! Aizawa X Reader

Warnings - Pseudo incest, manipulation, power dynamics, NSFW, noncon, dubcon, mentions of unsafe sex, slight degradation. Belittling, controlling Aizawa.

Music -  https://open.spotify.com/track/5nHTLEJ10zaqdnKqLriah4?si=Bs0su-fBRxWoE3jefCdPIA

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- “Why? Why, huh? Do I not provide you with very little thing you need, anything you could ever want?”

You dip your head in shame, sock-clad feet rubbing against each other nervously. “I just wanted to-“

“To disappoint me, yes, you’ve done that very well.” Aizawa’s tone is harsh, incensed. “I catch you trying to sneak out again, and all you can do is offer excuses.”

Biting your lip, you spread your hands quickly, trying to appease him. “I was just going to get you a present! For-for your birthday!”

A weak excuse, one that neither of you bought.  Aizawa stood up from the couch, shaking his head.

“My birthday isn’t for another couple of weeks and you know it. Plus, we both know that you’ll be the only present I unwrap on my birthday.”

The sordid promise made your heart drop, tensing up as your stepdad came closer and closer, until he stood in front of you. Tall, imposing, irritated.

“I’m sorry….” You manage, staring down at your feet. It’s too intimidating to try and meet his gaze, those light grey eyes that fill you with fear and guilt.

“I’m sure you are. How are you going to make it up to me?” And there it was, the always-dreaded initiation. You often wondered how Aizawa would be like with a woman his age, someone willing and eager to please him. Would he force them like this?

A minute stretched by while your mind worked, trying desperately to think of some other way to soothe his ire. Every time you undressed for him, every time he touched your body, every time you were forced to touch him made you feel dirty, tainted, disgusting.

Damaged goods.

“I can choose-“

“No!” You cried, head snapping up, fingers flying to his shirt to fist in the soft fabric before you remembered yourself. “I mean, no Dad, I’ll make it up to you.”

The words felt vile in your mouth, like poison. But of your two options, having the slightest bit of control over the situation was preferable. Whenever your stepdad chose some way for you to show that you were sorry, it hurt. He’d introduced you to anal, forcing you to take his thick fingers deep, stretching you out with various plugs and toys, drizzling more and more lube into your hole until you were loose enough to take him.

This way, you could avoid his painful favorite.

Taking a deep breath, you steered him back to the couch, and the man sat, looking up at you expectantly.

You dropped to your knees, spreading his thighs with your hands, the limbs giving way easily. The waistband of his sweats was pulled down easily, your fingers hooking into his briefs to pull them down as well.

He was already hard.

“C’mon, don’t make me wait.” Your stepdad urged, one hand coming to lace through your hair, loosely gripping the aback of your head. You suppose it could be taken as a reassuring gesture, but you knew what it really was; a threat.

You kept your face neutral as you kissed the mushroom tip, a bead of precum wetting your lips. You’d earned quickly that making any sort of face at the sight, smell, or feel of Aizawa’s dick would be met with swift punishment. He’d shove his cock down your throat and keep it there until your legs went numb, until tears pricked at your eyes.

And you’d still have to suck him off afterwards.

So you kept your face relaxed, slowly licking along the length, fondling his balls, kissing the base of his cock noisily.

A long lick from the base to the tip before you took him in your mouth, tucking your teeth behind your lips. Your tongue took over now, swirling around the head, laving broad strips against the very tip, swiping the precum away on each lick.

Raising your eyes to gauge his reaction was a mistake, Aizawa staring down at you with a hooded gaze, relaxing back into the couch.

“Make it up to me.”

You sucked, hard, swallowing around his dick as you eased it towards the back of your throat. You had to build up to deepthroating, still had trouble with it and your gag reflex, but your stepdad was a diligent teacher.

He was holding himself back, thighs flexing aside your head as he stopped himself from thrusting up into your mouth, from hunching over and using you like a toy, making you gag and sob and drool around his length. Aizawa wanted you to do all the work, wanted you to show him how sorry you really were by making him cum.

Moving your head faster, you bobbed on his length, cringing internally as drool slipped down your chin, towards your chest. You hated when it got messy.

Aizawa placed his other hand against your cheek, stroking the side of your face, but you could tell that he was really feeling for the outline of his cock in your mouth, thick, stocky fingers pressing insistently.

You made a little noise of protest, quickly trying to morph it into a moan, pulling off of him to catch your breath. Your hands twisted around his length, stimulating him in place of your mouth while you breathed, sloppy, slick sounds being heard each time your fist met his pelvis.

“Do it like I taught you.” Were his next instructions, Aizawa obviously getting bored by your hand job. You wanted to kick, and scream, and cry, maybe bite his dick off.

But he’d trained you well.

So you took a deep breath before plunging back down again, moving your head enthusiastically as you throat-fucked yourself, willing your gag reflex to stay calm.

It was only when you felt his dick slip into your throat did your stepdad start to make noise, groaning a little bit as he fisted his hand further into your hair. He was subtly guiding you with the hand, forward and back, forward and back, but letting you move about freely.

After all, you were supposed to be apologizing.

“That’s it, just like that.”

His orgasm built up slowly, cock twitching inside your mouth as you worked him higher and higher, hands playing with the length of his cock that you couldn’t fit into your mouth. You had to pull off once more to breath, chest heaving, desperately trying to jerk him to completion while his length wasn’t lodged in your mouth.

No such luck.

He came in your mouth, hips bucking a little as he released his milky seed. You squeezed your eyes shut, clenching your fists as you willed yourself not to recoil, not to get sick, not to make a face or do anything else to earn Aizawa’s anger.

You swallowed it down without a fuss, hating yourself for every second you spent being compliant.

But what else could you do?

Cock softening against his thigh, you tucked him back into his sweatpants, leaning your face against his leg to rest for a second.

Your stomach felt warm, full. It made you so sick.

“That was good, you’re learning.” Even his praise was clinical, almost detached. You hated him.

“I’m still upset with you though.”

The admission made you lift your head, turning to your stepfather with a quizzical expression, hurt, feeling betrayed.

“But dad, I just-I got you off? Isn’t that enough?” You wanted to add a “please”, beg for him to say yes, that all is forgiven, that he wasn’t mad anymore, that he wasn’t going to hurt you, or make you do anything else.

Aizawa tutted. “It’s enough when I say it is, and you messed up big time. You think a measly little blowjob makes up for all the shit you’ve tried to pull today? I don’t think so.”

“But, wasn’t it-didn’t I do good? I thought-“

“It was nice, you’re getting the hang of how to move your tongue. But I think there should be a little more effort put into your apology.”

You wanted to cry. This wasn’t fair, you had done enough already, wasn’t he satisfied? Why was he like this, so creepy and gross? Why couldn’t you have had a normal stepfather, who treated you like a normal person, who didn’t rip away your autonomy and freedom.

Aizawa could tell you weren’t fond of having to continue, but he wasn’t fond of your behavior.

A sudden jerk from the hand in your hair had you gasping in pain, Aizawa leaning over as he pulled you towards him. Your hands grabbed for his wrists, but he was already talking, anger swimming in those grey eyes of his.

“I’m being lenient with you. Do you understand how awful you’ve been these past few weeks? You’re pathetic. You think I wouldn’t catch you trying to sneak out the back door? You think I wouldn’t notice the hickies on your neck after you come home from “hanging out” with your girls?”

Your blood ran ice cold, draining out of your face. You thought you had told your (tentative, maybe) boyfriend to not leave any marks, that your dad would notice, that you’d get in trouble. You though you’d gotten away with that little secret, with the fact that you’ve been seeing someone every time you tell your dad you’re just chilling with friends.

Trying to sneak out the back door had been dumb, but you had felt desperate, upset, detested by your life. Hating the daily routine of being assaulted by your stepdad, being forced to be obedient and docile and cater to his lecherous whims.

Spread your legs when he asks, suck him off under the table when he tells you to, keep the bathroom door unlocked when you take a shower, in the off chance that he’d like to join you.

Not being able to tell anyone, caring the burden of shame and regret like heavy weights on your back.

Having to kiss him on the mouth, feel his stubble burning your cheeks, the sensitive skin of your thighs when he felt particularly giving.

His daily “lessons” almost always made you cry, either his harsh words or his insistence that you learn how to please him, it was only your natural role.

A daughter should always do her best to please her daddy.

Even just a night of freedom away from his grasp was welcomed, savored as a treat. You just needed to get away, but even that was asking too much.

“So-“ Aizawa released you, and you immediately rubbed at your stinging scalp. “What do you think I should do?”

“I-I wanna go to bed.” You mumbled, eyes darting wildly around the room, focusing anywhere except the dark-haired man in front of you.

“Oh? I didn’t expect you to be so forward about that.” He taunted, leaning forward onto his knees, lacing his fingers together with a mean smirk.

“No, I want to sleep….. please.” You knew that Aizawa had intentionally misunderstood you, intent on making you plead with him for simple mercies like sleep.

Aizawa sighed, rising to his feet. You scrambled to your feet also, feeling too small and weak kneeling on the floor underneath him like that. Still, he towered over you, running a lazy hand through his dark locks as he regarded you.

“I can’t just let you go unpunished, what kind of father would I be? Letting you lie and sneak around behind my back like this. Your daddy is supposed to care for you. I’d never neglect you.”

You wish he would.

“I learned my lesson dad, I swear. I won’t sneak out, I’ll-I’ll stay home and have my friends over instead of going out! Anything, just-just not……”

Not whatever he had planned for the rest of the night.

Aizawa sighed, rubbing his temples as he circled a hand around your arm, beginning to lead you towards his bedroom down the hall. You wanted to balk, but knew that doing so would only worsen your punishment.

“Thats a start, and we’ll do that moving forward. But you won’t be getting out of a punishment. Offering compromises and begging won’t get you anywhere, even if you do sound sweet.”

Pulling you into his bedroom, your stepdad let go of your arm, closing the door behind you. He moved to turn on a lamp by the bedside, turning off the overhead light so the room was cast in a low, yellow glow.

“Strip, then on the bed.”

You trembled as you slowly shucked off your clothes, Aizawa beginning to do the same, his eyes fixed on you the entire time.

But that was normal.

Aizawa was a fit man, able to manhandle you and pin you down, keep you still with the muscles hiding under his skin. But he was a father, and older, his body taking on the characteristics of someone who enjoyed life.

His thighs were thick, his abdomen sturdy. He wasn’t out of shape by any means, but his muscles were overplayed with a nice layer of fat. He looked like a bear, with the dark hair on his chest, his thick limbs, his solid frame.

But the man wasn’t shy, and by the time you had stripped down to your panties he was completely nude, pink cock soft against his thigh.

“Dad, I really don’t want to do-“

“I don’t care. Get on the bed.”

You bit your lip, staying still. “Please, please, I said I’m sorry-“

Within a second, Aizawa’s hand was around your throat, his eyes blazing as he shoved you against the wall.  

“This is what’s going to happen.” His voice was raspy, grinding out past his clenched teeth as he invaded your space. “You’re going to do as I say and get on the bed, or else I’ll use my belt on you until you bleed. Once you’re on the bed, you’re going to lay nice and pretty for daddy while I get everything ready. I got a candle to play with, and a couple of toys, and daddy wants to see how well they makes you moan for me.”

You were shivering, fingers scrabbling at the hand squeezing your airway, still allowing you to breath, but just barely.

“You’re gonna get all fucked out and stupid, ’n then I’m gonna bounce you on my cock until I’m satisfied, got it?” The man continued, his nose almost touching yours “Then you’re gonna wear a plug all night, and all tomorrow morning. I get to have you whenever I want, and you won’t complain or else I’ll cum inside, alright?”

Nodding your head, you felt tears rising. You had to do what Aizawa said though, you couldn’t take the risk of having the man cum inside.

“I’ll decide a better way to continue your punishment tomorrow, when I’m not as upset with you. Maybe by then you’ll figure out how to listen to daddy.”

When the man released your throat, you gasped, coughing a bit as you sucked in oxygen. Aizawa was already pushing you towards the bed, eyes trained on your figure.

The new knowledge that this wouldn’t even be the brunt of your punishment was devastating, and you felt your chest tighten up as you struggled not to cry. Crying would only get him to mock you.

All you could do was comply.

“I need you to remember-“ Your step dad catches you by the wrist, tilts your chin with a finger so he can stare into your eyes. “You’re mine.”

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#tw.pseudo #tw.dubcon #tw.noncon. #aizawa #aizawa sensei #bnha aizawa #shouta aizawa #aizawa shouta #aizawa smut #shoto aizawa #aizawa x you #yandere #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere aizawa shouta #yandere aizawa #yandere smut #yanzawa #I like that

[eddiesxspecialsock]

a smutty story with captor tartaglia (aka childe) SURE AS HELL BITCHES

(also my requests are open so ask me shit or else 🔫😀)

A small whimper escaped from your mouth as you strained your wrists against the shackles binding you to the wall in the locked basement of the northland bank run by the fatui.

Nobody knew the basement exsisted except the man who had left you down their, one of the fatui harbinger. tartaglia.

God knows how long he had left you down in that dreaded place. Hours? Days? Minutes? Gosh you were practically losing your mind in that god forsaken place.

Oh how you wished you hadn’t gotten yourself in this predicament in the first place.

You were a vision holder. Fascinating. That’s what most people would say to you at your ability. You were a (_____) vision holder and a good one at that. You were even friends with Mondstats Favorite Traveler, and her annoying little friend/emergency food.

Although you were a vision holder you were quite the trouble maker. You also were quite broke as a matter of fact. So when you had gotten bored since the traveler had been gone so long you had decided to stir up some fun with the fatui.

I mean you were broke. And where was there a shitload of money located? The fatui of course. I mean it’s kinda like hitting two birds with one stone. Screw with the hated fatui and help yourself in the process! a win win situation for you!

Oh how wrong you were.

Your feat made a soft patter as you hit the rugs inside the scneznyan bank. Easy peasy, you thought.

You had snuck in at night when there weren’t many guards. A gasp escaped from a fatuis lips as they spotted you dropping through the window. You quickly oustretched you hand using your vision to knock the woman unconscious. You quickly tucked your catalyst back into the ouch hung form around you waist. What a stupid mistake.

You quickly hopped over the counter in the bank to get closer to the fatuis gleaming vault.

little did you know someone was watching you from across the room.

Your ass was pressed onto the counter and your skirt was so short the mysterious man could see your plush thighs.

a small chuckle escaped his lips.

Your head quickly whips around to see the a man with ginger hair. He’s tall, and extremely handsom. But fuck. He was a fatui.

You immediately go to grab your bag with your catalyst but see the bag dangling from his gloved finger tips.

“Looking for this a suppose?” Inquiries the man.

Your face flushed with heat. How stupid of you he must have grabbed it off you while you had been gazing at the golden vault.

You quickly turn around to face the man. One of your legs propped up on the counter. The other dangling down, causing you skirt to pool at you hips. And dangle right over you underwear.

The mans eyes flick to the spot but he quickly focuses back on you.

“You must be wondering who I am hmm?” He says coming closer to you. He wraps a slender gloved finger around you chin then tilts it upward to look into his blue gleaming eyes.

You nod. Your eyes widening in fear. What was he going to do to you. Fuck.

”The names tartaglia. But you can call me child.” He lets go of your chin then turns around with a puzzled look on his face.

“Nice work you disposed of all the guards. I’m surprised.” He continued to pace around the room.

“Now what should i do with you. You are trespassing. And have been caught stealing from the fatui nonetheless. And you almost got away with it!” He continues to say as he picks a book off a shelf in a wall.

As he’s not looking you reach under part of you skirt grasping a dagger.

You ready yourself to lunge forewar but as you turn you head to see where childe is you feel your arms slammed against the rails on the counter.

A loud gasp escaped you lips.

Childes hands are around your wrists. He quickly switched to holding both your hands above your head, then proceeds to pluck the dagger from your grasp.

”Aw what a naughty girl. Got to hand it to you though thats was pretty slick of you.”

You grunt as he pushes you farther onto the counter.

“You need to be punished don’t you. Naughty girls get punished now don’t they.” He says as he takes one of his gloved hands and traces it down to lay lightly on your clothed pussy.

In his attempt to grab your hands he had pushed both your thighs into the counter making your skirt pool around your thighs and expose whats beneath.

Your eyes widen in shock. And you shiver from beneath his touch.

“P-please just let me g-go.” You let out as he pressed a bit harder on your lower half.

”Oh so you do speak. How cute.” He releases your arms his body pinning you up against the wall (bars)

He takes a gloved hand and grabs your face roughly. One of his fingers dipping into your mouth saliva spilling from beneath your lips.

He quickly lowers his mouth to your ears then whispers.

”Oh girlie you have no idea the things i’m going to do to you.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Now here you were shackled to the hidden vault of the fatui.

A soft scraping noise perks your attention and you see childe enter the room.

Your eyes full with excitement. He said he cared for you. He said one day he’d let you go if you were his good little girl. He said he loved you.

He kneels down to your level, the pants tightening around his hardened dick.

His gloved hands remove the shackles from around your wrists.

“awww have you been a good girl waiting for me?” his soft voice questions.

yoh nod vigorously.

“y-yes master childe i have been waiting for you.” you say your voice quivering. The bulge in his pants wasn’t a good sign for you.

”now be a good girl and kneel on all fours for me.” he beckons to you.

embarrisingly you crawl over to him on all fours. your naked but still pressed down to the ground to try and provide some warmth compared to the cold air.

Childe strokes your cheek.

”oh how obedient.” He says with a slicing stare. “but maybe a bit to obident.” He says his gaze darkening as he grips your throat pulling your face up to look at him.

Shoot you’d made a mistake. Suddenly childe slips something over your neck.

A collar?!

Oh how humiliating. You were like his little pet. How pathetic. Childe stands up and you notice a collar in his hand connecting to your neck.

He pulls it and the collar tightens making you gag.

“look at how weak you are.” He spats. He pulls the chain so your face is pulled up to look at him. Your face right beneath his bulge.

“Now be a good girl and do as i wish” He says as he begins to undo his pants. His gloved hand snatched a handful of your hair and pulls your face onto his dick.

“Gah!” You choke out. As he pushed and pulls you around him. Shoving it deep into your throat.

”Mmm- t-that’s a good girl just like- aaa- that.” He mutters a hand covering his face.

He drags you over to a sofa and be sits down. He pulls on your collar. Forcing you beneath his legs.

You hesitantly suck him off trying not to gag at his enormous length.

Tears begin to form in you eyes as he instinctively bucks his hips up into your mouth causing you to gag on him and drool to drip out of your mouth.

You feel his dick twitch in your mouth and then his hot seed spray the insides of yours wet cavern.

He quickly moves to grasp your face, “Dont you dare swallow you slut” You nod in terror, tears still staining your face.

Childe begins undressing and tosses his jacket into the ground.

You stare at his abs. So defined and beautiful. You blush a bit staring at him.

WAIT WHAT NO THIS MAN IS KEEPING ME HOSTAGE I CANT FEEL ATTRACTED TO HIM.

The collar tightening around your neck makes you gag. As your captor tugs you foreward onto his lap.

A hand slips between your legs touching your sopping cunt. “Aa!” You yell letting out a soft moan. “Mm- C-Childe stop!” You yell back.

”I’ll do what i want.” He says back quickly grabbing your face and pulling it to him. Your eyes widen. He hadn’t kissed you ever. Only touched you.

As he kisses you he grips your thighs pulling you up to his waist.

His dick once again hard laying against your pussy.

one of Childes gloved hands move up to grope your breasts and you let out soft pants.

Childe takes his tounge out of yours and quickly pulls you onto his cock.

It’s massive and your body shudders with the sudden intrunion. He hadn’t even given you time to adjust.

“While why don’t you look at that” he mutters.

You look down to we’re he’s staring. At your stomach, you can see his gigantic bulge through your stomach.

Your eyes fill with tears at the pain.

”ride.” he demand grabbing your hips and slamming you down onto him.

You bite your lip to keep your self from screaming as he continues to slam you down.

“you like that don’t you, what a naught girl you are.” Childe whispers huskily in your ear. Your moans are louder now as you feel the knot in your stomach start to unravel.

“C-Childe!” You scream. As you cum on his cock. Childe doesn’t even seem to care.

He flips you over easily and pushes your legs so he has a better angle then proceeds to slam into you mercilessly. Your eyes continue to leak as he ounces into you. The sound of skin on skin filling the room.

Childe places his lips to your neck and begins to suck leaving hickory everywhere as he continues to pound you.

“Hey girlie, why don’t you cum on my cock for me like a good girl.” He whispers. His voice proceeds to send you over the edge again once more.

He laughs delightedly as your eyes roll back and your body begins to go limp.

He then pulls your body back off the couch. your face pressed into the cusions by his hand and your ass in the air.

“Aaa! C-Childe s-top” you try to whimper but it comes out incoherent. Your whimpers encourage him more and he continues to point into you mercilessly.

your legs begin to slip and you collapse onto the ground. cumming around him. Childe wraps one of his hands under your tummy and continues to fuck you.

Your velvety walls are so tight around him and he can feel himself coming close.

“Childe- I can’t i’m done-“ you moan as you can barely keep your eyes open.

”darling your done when- youre- Aaa mmm- say your done.”

Childe quickly flips you over so he can see as he comes inside you.

“cum with me y/n, like the good little slut you are.” Your broken body somehow manages to release one final time as childe fills you up.

At this point the milky substance is dipping out of you.

Childe pulls out as tons of fun drips out of your hole onto the ground.

”did you keep my cum in your mouth like i said.” he questions using his fingers to pull your tounge out of your mouth. the white juice mixed with saliva drips over his gloved fingers and he smirks.

”what a good girl you were today. I think i ought to never let you go.”

you nod completely fucked out.

”You can live with me tho. Not down here.” again you nod falling foreword onto his chest.

”gosh did i fuck you so hard you can’t even get up? do you need daddy to carry you?” he says lifting you up. your limp body warmer in his arms you let out a shaken nod.

”oh what a good girl you are.” he says stroking you hair and using the collar to pull you closer to him.

“you belong to me got that?” he says tucking you head into the crook of his net.

#childe x reader smut #genshin impact x reader smut #genshin impacts reader #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #smut #genshin impact smut #x reader #childe #tartaglia

[monaisdark]

Ok ok, just hear me out, I haven’t read any one shot or story with knife play and like, I’m kinda into that shit, no judgment plz, um but for my request I would love a dominant reader who’s a villain, paired with literally anyone, I literally just want femdom with a knife plz 🖤 I really like your content 🖤

FEMDOMS WITH KNIFES FEMDOMS WITH KNIFES THANK YOU !! decided to do some bakugou because yknow what - that man needs to be put in his place by a sexy villain lady goddammit !! also, dw about judgement here ‘cus there is a 90% chance im into it :’) ofc thank u for the ask bc yall’s brains >>> 

➨ paring — Pro Hero! Katsuki Bakugou x Fem! Villain! Reader

➨ warnings —  dubcon, Sub! Bakugou, Dom! Reader, knife play, blood play, begging, handcuffing

Bakugou didn’t know what even led up to this. It was late at night and he was on patrol, he does this all the time! Yet, you got him. He didn’t even have time to react before his gauntlets were knocked out of his hands, cuffs were put on him, and connected the chain attached to the cuffs to a fence in the alleyway.

“You fucking bitch!” He yelled, immediately trying to activate his quirk but it only amounted to a few sparks. “Huh?! —“

“Quirk cancelling cuffs. Crazy the things the black-market sells.” You lifted the hood of your coat, getting a little too close for Bakugou’s comfort. “Dynamight, huh? I was expecting more of a fight for a Pro Hero.” You were taunting him, the sounds of sparks echoing throughout the empty alleyway.

“Y’know, that’s the definition of insanity — doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result.” A laugh left your lips, as Bakugou scowled, “You’re the crazy bitch here! What the hell do you want!?” Your tone darkened, grabbing his face. “Stop yelling, I might have to put a gag in your mouth.”

Bakugou couldn’t help but shudder, your touch was cold. And your eyes staring into his didn’t help him stay calm. Bakugou hasn’t felt this vulnerable in a long time. You captured him so easily, how has he never heard of you?

“The smart ones lurk in the shadows. Bet you didn’t even hear me!” You were back to laughing his face, you were able to read him so easily. He growled curses under his breath, thrashing around. “Ah, don’t be like that. I haven’t even done anything to you... yet.” 

“You low-life! Take these cuffs off and fucking fight me!” That was it, you pulled out a scary-looking knife, “A lot of people want you dead, I’m sure you know. If I were someone boring, you’d be lying in your own blood right now.” Bakugou could feel the tip of the knife though the fabric of his hero costume on his chest, his breath hitched. There was nothing he could do. 

“Mhm... even with quirks, I don’t think anything beats a good ol’ knife.” Bakugou could see the blood that stained the knife, you’ve used it before. “I’d rather have some fun with you, y’know? Not everyday you get to capture such a great hero.”  

“What the hell are you talkin — !“ A lick. You licked his collarbone, “Aha! You are so cute.” Bakugou froze up, he wasn’t expecting this. He tried to hold back a gasp when you started palming him. You were crazier than he thought.

“Shit, stop... stop this!” He wanted to move, just enough to kick you in the chest to get you away from him, but the knife was pressed so closely to him. Any more movement and he would have it piercing his chest. And even then, he’s still cuffed and chained, how will he fight you? “Ah, stop? But you’re getting hard, what monster would I be to give you blue balls?” You giggled in his ear.

It wasn’t long before you were crouching before him, the knife moving from his chest to his lower  abdomen, “Get the fuck away from me! I’ll fucking kill you!” Bakugou tried to cling onto his power. He didn’t expect you to listen, but like hell he’d let you get away with this so easily.

A smile spread on your face as you took his semi-hard dick out of his pants. “Such words for someone who’s turned on.” Bakugou’s breath hitched, damn his body for responding to you. “Don’t...don’t do anything — shit!” You were stroking him, bringing your mouth close to his head to give him kitten licks. He cursed as he felt himself grow fully hard now under your touch, much to his dislike.

“I have to say, you’re impressive. Now — “ You pressed the knife down on the exposed skin of his lower abdomen, Bakugou could feel a small blood trickle down from there. “Don’t try to fight back right now. I’d rather not plunge my knife into you right now.” You pushed him onto the cold concrete ground, moving his trapped hands above his head. 

Everything was rushing over Bakugou, he wasn’t one to not fight back. But the knife paired with your quick movements and those damn cuffs, he’s weak. Weaker then he ever imagined himself being around a villain like you. You crawled on top of him, not wasting time on removing your panties and hoisting your skirt up. You sat on his lap, his cock against the fabric of your skirt.

He could still feel the blood from his abdomen trickle down, a wince coming from him as he felt another small slice go with his previous one. “Sorry! Couldn’t help myself.” Your voice was oddly smooth, it was like it was tickling Bakugou’s every being. Maybe it was the blood rushing through his body but he couldn’t deny you were attractive. Bakugou tended to focus on his hero work, he had no time for women even as a Pro Hero. 

Bakugou was becoming puddy in your hands, your gloved hand stroking him as the knife trailed his torso, a small a trail of blood being left behind. He tried to hold his panting, but he couldn’t help it. It made it worse seeing you lift yourself from his lap, not wasting time on plunging yourself on him.

“Ah, aha... A snug fit, right?” Bakugou was fully a mess now, you felt amazing. “No... shit — get... get off! You...you bitch!” He didn’t want you to stop. His pride was getting over him, what if someone saw him? He was a Pro Hero - a damn good one as well - and he let a villain with cuffs and a knife get the best of him? He should hate this, yet his pants and moans were showing otherwise. He was even bucking his hips slightly!

“You’re so mean!” Bakugou winced as he felt stinging again, this time on his upper thigh. You cut him again. “Say sorry.” You demanded, your knife teasing another slice to his thigh. Bakugou stayed quiet, clenching his jaw as he felt you going up and down on him. “Say sorry!” This time you were louder, another stinging pain hit Bakugou, a second cut to match the previous one on his thigh.

Bakugou couldn’t even open his eyes or mouth, how pitiful did he look right now? Say sorry? You’re the one doing this to him! You were making him such a mess, he’s the one that’s supposed to be stronger! 

“How childish. You can’t even say two words yet you’re panting like a dog right now! Let’s see...” Bakugou felt you stop moving and the knife move to his neck, he wanted to curse. You can’t tease him like this. “I wanted this to be fun but you can’t just let your stupid superiority complex go, huh?” Friction, he needed friction desperately. The knife was cold like you, but your cunt was so warm. Please just forget about it and move, wasn’t tying him up enough?

“Fuck... move, just move.” He didn’t want to have to beg, that’ll confirm you have the upperhand. “Mhmn, not until you say sorry —” You stopped for a second, a devious smile forming, “...Actually, if you want me off you so bad...” You lifted yourself off of him slowly, teasing him as he could no longer feel your soft insides around him. 

God, he hated this. He was so hard it hurts, a string of pre-cum was forming at his tip. He was sweaty and red despite the weather being cool. You still sat on him, even without him inside you, he could feel your soaked, warm core that contrasted your body. Your eyes staring down on him like he was a deer and you were a hunter. You wanted him to beg. 

Bakugou struggled to form a sentence, he was out of breath and half lidded. Words that he never would have expected himself to utter came out, “Inside... back inside. I’m sorry! P-Please, please, put it back in!” A tight, warm feeling engulfed around Bakugou’s cock again, he missed it. A smile spreaded on your face, not one of deviance but one of joy, “Ahah, you see? How hard was that?” You removed the knife from his neck and opted to trailing it along his lower stomach. 

You beat him, Bakugou was enjoying this. He didn’t care that you were a villain anymore, or how you had the upper hand in all this. Hell, you could use that knife all you wanted on him! Just bounce on his cock, that’s all he wants.

He could feel you pulling him in every time you thrusted yourself on him and Bakugou was brought to the edge each time. He was beginning to twitch and you seemed to notice too, slowing down to drag out the feeling you gave him. “Do you want to cum inside?” He nodded profusely, “Use your words.” He has to beg to cum? He truly has to give up all his control.

“Please! Ah! Cum inside... let me cum inside!” Bakugou was loud, it was a surprise nobody ventured into the alley with all the sounds of skin slapping and moans. Perks of shitty, small neighborhoods. Nobody gave a fuck. Not that he wanted anyone to see this anyways, this was certainly a way to be ‘defeated’ by a villain.

“Go ahead — you’ve been so good.” You left the knife on his stomach but with the way Bakugou was breathing, the tip of the metal could poke him still. You let him buck his hips into yours, leaning down to grab his head with your free hands to give him a kiss on the forehead. He wasted no time in filling you up, the way you continued to bounce on him despite him cumming already brought him over the edge to another orgasm. 

After what felt like hours of warmth and tightness, Bakugou was a mess. Everything was clouded in his head, he just came in a villain. And he liked it.

He could the weight of your body get off of him, grabbing the knife from his stomach and tucking it in your coat pocket. Bakugou cursed himself for missing your touch, the cold from the air was different from the cold of your body and knife. “Be good and don’t do anything, hm?” You dangled the keys to the cuffs and chain above him. He nodded — not like he would anyways, he was smitten. 

As you uncuffed him, Bakugou didn’t even try to attack you, which was great for you. He didn’t say anything, looking at the ground though his breath was heavy. He felt a piece of fabric fall on his lap, your panties. “Parting gift.” You laughed but Bakugou felt his stomach begin to turn. As you walked away without another word, he could feel panic build up slightly — he still knew nothing about you. 

He wasn’t mad like he should be. He wanted to see you, feel you. All he could do for now was hold the fabric close... the thought of you still fresh in his mind.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #bnha x reader #tw dubcon #tw dubious consent #sub bakugou #dom reader #knifeplay #cuffing #begging #blood play #dark blog #dark fic #tw

[supercorpkid]

Mind Controlled – The Series.

Part 2 – Pull the trigger.

Supercorp, Kara Danvers x Daughter!Reader, Lena Luthor x Daughter!Reader, Alex Danvers x Niece!Reader, Lex Luthor x Niece!Reader.

Word count: 2300.

Warning: Injuries, violence, pain, angst.

Previously on the series - part 1

You land on the same room, on the same building, waiting for Lex's voice to come out of the speaker with further instructions. You’re ready to do whatever he asks from you.

“You’re back, my bösewicht.” You hear his voice sometime later. “I presume you have done a good job leaving your mothers wrecked?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Such an obedient little monster. A Super with a Luthor’s brain. Why has no one thought about this before? Oh yes, I have. But they called me a mad man for it, and yet here you are.” And there you are. Standing still, staring at a wall, waiting for more orders. “In that stupid outfit, dear Lord, why would anyone be dressed in those stupid clothes?”

You look down on your super suit. You do look stupid. This stupid skirt, horrible boots, long sleeve shirt so tight if you were human, it would mark your skin. It makes you so sick you want to rip it off of your body.

“Nevertheless, with you playing pet for me, I can do whatever I want even still in jail.” The static comes again, but Lex doesn’t stop talking. “I should’ve known Lena would be greedy and want a smart and powerful kid. But I hadn’t had confirmation, that was until mother came here to visit and told me all about you. So impressed with her little granddaughter.” He lets out a chuckle. “I can’t imagine how infuriated she’ll be once she finds out it was her, who gave me the idea to mind control you.”

You think about Lillian, and how impressed she is with you. You give yourself a cocky smile. She should be impressed, you are impressive.

“Kryptonians might have strong minds, but Luthors? We’re unfortunately just humans. So my bright sister didn’t think that having a powerful kryptonian daughter with a susceptible mind wasn’t a good idea?” He scoffs. "Oh, Lena. You may try, but you will never be smart like me.”

There’s a loud breathing sound.

“That’s enough of chatting. I have better things for you to do, my bösewicht. You’ll break me out of jail when it’s time, but first-” There’s a wicked little pause. “Let’s destroy the Super name.”

Your body is suddenly filled with rage and wrath. You want to destroy everything. You want to drop a bomb in everyone’s head. You want to make them suffer.

“That’s it. Use your rage. Destroy National City, scare them, let them see you in your worst form. Let them fear the Supers, and then, come for me.”

“Yes, sir.”

You fly off the window, looking for a place to start. You want to cause damage, you want them to be scared of you, whoever they may be.

You start off by using your heat vision to draw the ‘House of El’ symbol in the middle of the park, so they know who’s responsible for all that it is coming their way. You watch the grass burning, the form coming along and your heart beats fast, enthusiastic.

You didn’t even start the destruction part yet, and this already feels fulfilling. You know exactly where to go next.

You fly to your training center and you look down. This stupid-ass place gives you no good memories at all. You got beat up, got yelled at, got annoyed every time your powers didn’t work like they were supposed to, got angry at people looking at you thinking you weren’t good enough. You remember their disapproving looks; you remember the tiniest of sighs you’ve heard.

Fuck them all.

Your heat vision hits the ground, and your heart gets heavy, but your powers never stop. You can almost taste the feeling of being a disappointment in your mouth. And it gets you incredibly proud of yourself. You want to disappoint them. Them being proud of you means nothing at all.

You look down on the entire place up in flames. This is the right thing. Destroying this place will send them a message. You are not their little pet anymore. They can’t keep you under a leash, pretending you’re not powerful and fucking special. You’re so fucking special, even Lex wants your powers.

It’s not long until Supergirl flies in front of you. You smirk at her looking down. There’s a powerful feeling cursing through your veins. You know she can see it too. Your hair blowing in the wind, your stupid super suit moving almost in slow motion, your eyes burning of rage with little flames dancing in the dark of your enlarged pupils.

“I believe you owe me an apology.” It’s the first thing you say, after unclenching your jaw. “You called me weak.” You spit, disgusted. “You were mistaken.”

“Deeply.” Kara agrees looking down, and you notice the cars from the DEO stopping, people getting out of them in desperation, trying to put out the fire. That makes you so happy. She looks back at you. “Is this what this whole thing is about? You’re trying to prove to me you’re strong, after all this time?”

“Trying?” You scoff, then your face goes back to a frown. “I don’t need to prove myself. Especially not to someone who uses her powers to stop bank robberies instead of having the world under her firm grip.”

“I know you’re not my daughter.” Kara comes a little bit closer; you don’t move. You’re not scared of her, but she should be scared of you. “Are you bizarro?”

“You’re too far consumed in this battle of ego to see right in front of you.” You tilt your head, letting a creepy smile dangle on your lips. “Don’t you recognize your little one, mommy?”

“If that’s the case, then I have to stop you either way, little one.” Kara does her whole superhero pose and you laugh at her.

“You can’t. You don’t have the stomach.” You look down to the ground and you see Lena there. “I see, you won’t be the one doing it. Clean hands, right? Let the Luthor hurt the Kryptonian. It’s the natural order of things.”

“I’m sorry, my love. It has to be done.” Supergirl flies towards you in one motion. You still try to fly away, but she is a little faster, so she grabs you easily. You push her, punch her, you even pull her hair, but she doesn’t let go.

She lands on the floor with you wrapped in her arms, and Lena comes closer. Kryptonite gun in hand. Soon, you’re surrounded by agents with their own guns. Supergirl lets you go, flying above you, but not leaving, in case you decide to make a run for it.

You look at Lena. Gun in hand. You listen to her heartbeat going crazy and you smile at her.

Let’s play, mom.

“Do it.” You dare. “I want to see you pull that trigger. I want to see you hurt your own daughter with Kryptonite.”

“I don’t want to do this, baby.” Lena assures you, taking a small step towards you. “I promise you, I’ll figure out what’s going on with you. You just have to come with me.”

“You’ve always known, haven’t you?” You lock eyes with watery green eyes behind the gun. “You’ve always known someday the Luthor genes would shine through. Because no matter how good the Super gene is, the Luthor one is worse. So, so bad. Rotten to the core. You’ve always known I wouldn’t be able to resist.”

“I’ve told you before. We are not Luthors. We are Luthor-Danvers, and that means something. Please, stand down. Let me look at you.”

“Tell me to stand down one more time and I’ll throw-” You look at one guy on your left and point at him. “That guy into space.”

“Baby.” It’s Lena’s last try, you can see it in her face. You can see the way her finger presses lightly at the trigger. You also hear how that makes everyone else do the exact same movement.

“I’m not going to run away. But I won’t surrender, either.” You defy her. “If you want me to go with you, then you have to do it. You have to pull the trigger and you have to live with the guilt all your life.”

“I’m sorry it has come to this, baby.” But her face doesn’t hold much sentiment, nor does she lower her weapon. “But you know I have to do this. You can’t go on pulling stunts like this. You can’t keep thinking there are no consequences to your actions.”

“You are not sorry.” You smirk. “Don’t try to play me for a fool, Lena.” It’s the way her name leaves your mouth that makes her flinch. “I know you’re dying to pull that trigger and be the one who tamed a Kryptonian once again. It’s what all Luthors want in the end.”

She pulls the trigger, making you fall on the floor in pain, after a blast of kryptonite hits your chest.

“You should be so satisfied now.” You whimper. Kryptonite filling your body. “You’ve used kryptonite on your wife, and now on your daughter. It’s a full circle, isn’t it?” You spit out your words.

Lena puts you in handcuffs that strip you off of your powers, and strokes your cheeks gently. Eyes full of tears and instant regret.

“I’m bringing you back, my baby. I promise you.” She whispers delicately, like she’s not even talking to you anymore, but maybe to the memory she has of you.

But the two agents that come from behind you don’t pick you up delicately. In fact, they seem very pissed at you, and you’re shoved into the back of a van where Alex is.

“Aunt Alex.” You start with your bitchy tone and Alex breathes deep.

“Listen kiddo, I’m not in the mood.” She shakes her head, upset. “You just caused us millions of dollars in damages, Kara is a wreck, and don’t even get me started on Lena.” Alex raises her eyes from her tablet. “I know you’re not yourself, that’s why I don’t give a fuck about this. You start talking? That gag goes in your mouth in a second. Don’t think you can play me like you did with your moms.”

“I think the story would be really different if Lena hadn’t cuffed me and stripped me off of my powers.” You raise an eyebrow, not breaking eye contact. “You’re scared of me too.”

“Have you looked at yourself in the mirror?” Alex smiles unbothered. “I’ve dealt with things much worse, and much scarier than you and your babyface.” She grabs the gag and looks at you. “Now shut it, or I’ll make you.”

You decide to shut up. Your quarrel isn’t with Alex and the last thing you want it’s to be shut up. The best course of action is going willingly, and working something up in the DEO, because you know for sure there is where they’re taking you.

It’s Alex who shoves you inside of a cell, when you get there. Locks the glass door, and turns on some red sun lamps. You bite your mouth at the idea of it. They are very scared of you; they keep finding ways to strip you off of your powers.

It takes a few minutes until you hear talking on the other side of the glass. You can’t see them, or hear them well enough, but there’s one voice that stands out. You bitch grin to yourself.

Let’s play, momma.

"Mommy” You use your best and sweetest voice. Kara comes closer to the glass cell, and you stare at her from the other side. You want to destroy this place brick by brick until there’s nothing left, but you know if you’re aggressive about it, they won’t let you out. “Please, let me out. Can you open the door, please?"

"Kid, I'm sorry but we have to understand what's-" Kara starts, but you interrupt her.

"I'm begging you, please, please mommy." You drop on your knees. Tears falling from your eyes, and that act allures a crowd. Lena and Alex soon join Kara on the other side.

"Baby, I'm sorry." Kara gasps, and you watch Lena’s hand squeezing her shoulder reassuring. “You know I want to-”

"You said you would protect me. This isn't protection.” Your tears stop falling, you’re angry again. The act isn’t working. You clench your fist, using all the strength you have, trying to focus so the anger doesn’t consume you. You feel the palms of your hands burning, with nails digging into your flesh. “Please, this isn’t fair. Mom, please, do something.”

"I swear this is for your own good." Lena takes a deep breath, not buying into what you’re saying. Great. You’re done faking either way.

“FUCK YOU! LET ME OUT OF THIS CELL!” You bang on the cell, screaming as loud as you can. You see your blood leaving hand-shaped marks on the glass. Your scream is loud, but the banging is louder.

“Baby, please, you have to calm down.” You hear Kara’s voice trying to sooth you. It gets you angrier.

"FUCK YOU TOO! LET ME OUT! LET ME OUT NOW!" They look at the blood splashed onto the glass. Your face is burning red, and Kara flinches at the sight of you. Lena doesn't, so you know your best shot is with your momma. "Kara, I swear if you don't open this cell right now, I will hate you until the day I die."

“That’s enough.” You hear Alex’s voice and the glass turns black. You can’t see them on the outside, and you know they can’t see inside either. You can’t hear their voices, so you suspect they’re not listening to your unrelenting yell anymore.

Fuck. You need a new escape plan.

#supergirl #kara danvers #lena luthor #supercorp #kara x lena #kara x reader #supercorp daughter #supercorp fanfic #supercorpfamily #lena x reader #reader insert

[stardancerluv]

Love at The Black Mask Club

Summary: Roman grows annoyed and craves you in the middle of a busy night.

Note/Warning: I used a shot from Moulin Rouge, used Eric Roberts as Falcone instead Maronie, and shots of Ewan from Guys and Dolla. Dom!Daddy!Kink, possessiveness, wiling gagging, fingering female receiving, semi-public sex, also this is like 4 months into their relationship.

Roman pulled on his sleeve, the cufflink twinkled as his annoyance grew. Penguin was beginning to ramble. Falcone looked at him before pulling on his cigar.

He took a sip from his scotch. He let his eyes wander around the club. There was a blur of people dancing in front of the stage. He didn’t spot you. Where the fuck had you gone, he mused.

“So Roman, can I rent the VIP lounge Sunday?”

“Huh?”

“He’s looking for his girl.” Whispered Falcone to Penguin who sat near him.

“What was that?” snapped Roman.

Falcone shook his head. “Nothing of importance.”

Penquin’s beak twitched, he squawked mirth shining in his small black eyes. He readjusted his monocle. “I asked can I rent the VIP lounge on Sunday?”

“You won’t be bringing in a buffet of raw fish will you?” Roman asked dryly.

Falcone coughed, sounding more like a choke. “Roman come on, he didn’t really do that, did he?”

Roman rose an eyebrow, “You ask him.”

Penguin shifted. “I knew me and my crew would get hungry.”

Falcone made a disgusted face.

Roman rolled his eyes. “Are we done?”

No sooner did he ask than when the screechy voice he hated more than Penguin’s fishy scent called his name and she was across his lap, with a lazy arm around this throat and a clammy hand on his cheek. “Romy! I’ve missed you!”

He narrowed his eyes at her, he was in no mood. “Get the fuck off me.” He breathed. His anger bubbling in him.

“What? You’re not happy to see me? No kiss?” She drew close, her sickly sweet perfume began to fill his nose.

He pushed her off and stood up. Harley stumbled, but easily found her footing. Quickly, she was smiling and clinging to Joker’s side who had just walked up.

Falcone reached for him. “Calm down Sionis, she is only playing.”

He turned and looked at him.

Falcone raised his hand. “All right, she went too far.”

Joker’s cackle filled the still air that fell over the club. “I see my girl is getting herself in trouble.” He threw his head back and chuckled.

Roman looked over the club. People had stopped dancing and were gaping at the two of you. A huge smile spread across his face. “It’s not a party without a little drama, am I right?” He glanced around, he clapped his hands. “Come on! Turn it up! Shots on the house!” Cheers soon bounced off the walls competing with the music. The dancing and idle chatter started up once again.

He took a step toward the clown duo. He looked right into those crazy eyes, “Keep an eye on her. She’s in my club.” Turning towards the table, he pointed at Penguin. “Don’t bring any damn fish and you can rent the lounge.”

Penguin squawked. “Thank you.”

Falcone shook his head as he pulled on his cigar again.

Roman turned and went to finally go and find you.

*****

You had heard the cut in the music. Instantly, you knew someone had angered Roman. Probably fucking Harley. You quickly dipped into the ladies room. You had been dancing while he had a meeting. You made a silly face as you eyed your reflection. You ran your fingers through your hair, you still looked good.

*****

Gloved fingers wrapped around your wrist and pulled you against a solid warm frame. You smiled, you knew it could only be one person. “I was just looking for you.” You said brightly.

“I found you first.” Before pulling you close, he glanced at his watch. “I need you.”

“I’m-” He cut your words as he kissed you. It was an angry, hungry kiss. It made your heart race and excitement knot deep inside you.

“Follow me.” He rasped. You nodded and he practically dragged you.

“Of course.”

He tore open the door to one of the exclusive VIP rooms. The two of you nearly crashed into one of his event planners as he continued into the room further.

“Did you not want me to book this room?” Their voice shook.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Roman finally looked at them. He shook his head. “I’m just looking it over.”

The man rocked on his heels. “Oh good.” He gave a weak smile.

“Why are you lingering? Go and get the other room ready!” He made a dismissive gesture with his hand.

“Right! Yes!” The man hurried out.

The door whispered close behind him.

Roman turned to look at you, it made you shiver. He walked over to where you had leaned against the gold half wall. “Damn you look good tonight.”

You don’t know why, but you could not stop yourself but shimmy a little as he came up to stand behind you.

“Yes. You do.” His voice rasped in your ear after he pulled you roughly up against him. You could feel him.

“Thank you, daddy.” Your voice shook with excitement as you grew breathless. You watched as he pulled off a glove and stuffed it into his pocket.

He caressed your thigh. “Tell me baby.” His hand cupped you, pulling you closer to him. A soft sound came from you as you felt even more of him through his slacks. “Who do you belong to? Who does this belong to?” You grew wetter as you felt him squeeze harder.

“You daddy. I belong to you.” You whimpered as his fingers slipped under your panties and he cupped you once again.

“That’s right baby.” His breath was hot on your throat. “So good and wet for me.” He began to rub you. You swallowed hard, as your breath shallowed.

“Oh daddy.” You whimpered. “Please.”

He made a deep sound as you felt his lips on your throat. “Please what, baby?” You shook as you felt him slip two fingers in.

“Daddy.” You whimpered and now was not the time to pout as you felt his fingers withdraw.

He held you close. “Clean daddy’s fingers off. Daddy has to go out there soon.” He offered you his fingers.

“Of course, daddy.” You licked and sucked at his fingers, the act itself made you wetter. You loved when he reminded you who owned you.

“You are such a good baby.” He took his hand back and turned you to face him. You watched as he slipped his glove on. “I need you.”

“What do you want me to do?” Excitement curled in your stomach over what he could want.

His mouth twitched upward. “Go and brace yourself against that column.”

You did as you were told happily, watching as he came over to you while undoing the zipper of his pants. An ache in anticipation grew between your legs.

He came over and smoothed your dress up. “Ready for me?”

“Yes.” You breathed.

You felt as he pushed your panties aside. You gripped the column and a moan poured from your lips as he slid right into you. “That’s my baby. Letting her daddy take her whenever he needs you.”

All you could do was moan as he began moving in and out of you. A rhythm formed between you and him, he held onto your hips.

Suddenly the doors open and the murmur of excited voices filled the room. You glanced back at Roman, fear hit your stomach.

He looked past you and a smirk curled his lips. “Tightening in fear or excitement?” He gently teased.

“We can’t have them hear you, can we?” He reached into his pocket and took out his handkerchief. “Put it into your mouth.” You couldn’t believe this but you grew wetter as he spoke.

He thrusted harder and faster into you. You bit down and moaned around his handkerchief. You shook hard. “You better cum.” He hissed. “Or you will have to wait.” Nodding, you shook at his words.

You could feel him tremble, as he moved deeper. Shaking, you finally let yourself cum. His fingers dug in hard, making you wince as he held you tightly against him. You felt as he came hard in you.

Moments later you were handing him his handkerchief. He smiled at you as he tucked it back into his suit jacket. You smoothed your dress.

“I plan expanding this back area and maybe even a place for a DJ.” He said.

Your brow furrowed but then you realized. “Oh, that could be very nice.” You said sweetly and took his arm.

“Ooo the great Roman Sionis has made an appearance at my party.” A very happy but very drunk looking guy appeared as you two were almost out of the room.

“Just making sure things were tip top.” He smiled broadly.

“Well thank you sir, thank you.”

“No trouble. Right baby?” He turned and smirked at you.

“Not at all. Have a good party.”

*****

Once down another hallway and around a corner. He happily pressed you to the wall. “We almost got caught.” You looked so sweetly up at him. Your cheeks still flushed and your eyes bright.

“But we didn’t.”

He chuckled.

You reached up and gently caressed his cheek. He kissed you then, he was feeling good. Now he could face the rest of the night.

“Come join me for my last two meetings?”

You smiled. “I’d love to.”

With his arm tightly around you, together you weaved through the people. You felt his hand tighten as Two-Face was there flipping his coin up and down in the air.

Zsasz came over one side. The two of you stopped. He looked you up and down.

“Talk Zsasz, Y/N can hear whatever you have to tell me.”

A flush of happiness filled you at his words.

“Two-Face is not in a good mood.”

Roman rose an eyebrow. “Is he ever?”

You giggled into your hand.

They both looked at you. You grimaced. “He was grumpy even when I designed something for him.”

Roman smiled. “See Zsasz, he was even grumpy for Y/N.”

He scratched the back of his head. “All right.”

******

“He hired you?” Roman said as Zsasz walked ahead.

You nodded. “A two tone sofa.”

“Interesting.”

“It was. It took forever for both sides to agree.”

Roman chuckled then. “I bet.”

*****

“Y/N?!” He snatched his coin mid air instead of letting it fall into his palm.

“Hi Harvey.” You said sweetly. You

“I… We…” For once, you mused, both sides were speechless.

You glanced at Roman. “I’m Roman’s girl.”

His mouth twisted before smiling. “Great.”

“Two-Face, you and I were supposed to meet later.” Roman, looked kind of annoyed. “Where is Edward?”

“Batman.”

“Oh.” Roman muttered something you could not make out. “I wanted Y/N at my side tonight.”

He shrugged. “That’s fine. She knows where my hideout is.”

Roman raised his eyebrows at you. “Well, Harvey let’s be honest.” You put a hand on your hip.

He rolled his eyes, but still smiled. “All right, I gently had you blindfolded and brought over.”

“Exactly. But if you want me to flutter off I can.”

“No, it’s ok.” He flipped his coin and then his face grew dark. His eyes narrowed at Roman.

You held your breath.

“Roman, you better treat her right. She’s not one of us.”

You could feel Roman’s body stiffen under your arm that was wrapped around him. “She’s my girl. Of course I do.” You were touched, you had not realized they could be a softie. Harvey had always been very curt and clipped when talking or negotiating with you.

“Good.” He snarled before his face relaxed.

******

Happily you sipped at your drink while the two of them discussed business. All of it was beyond you, as they talked numbers and street names.

Your heartbeat still had not recovered from having his handkerchief in your mouth when he took you in one of the VIP lounges. As you grabbed your glass to have a sip, you felt him place a gloved hand on your thigh. He glanced at you and smiled as there was a pause in the conversation between them. You placed your hand over his. Sipping your drink, a giddiness came over you as you mused about being his girl these past months; it had been some of the most exciting in your life.

@darling-i-read-it @spn-obsessed-dean @vintagemichelle91 @xxxeatyourh3artoutxxx @ewanfuckingmcgregor @zodiyack @angel98624 @frenchgirlinlondon @emyliabernstein @thepeachreads @nebulastarr @itsknife2meetu @omghappilyuniquebouquetlove @poe-kadot26 @babydoll97-blog1 @hazel-nuss @vcat55 @feelthemadnessinside @johallzy @foreverhockeytrash @frostypenguinoz @starwarsslytherin @professionalclown @chogisss @shantellorraine @xxinvisiblexx @blondekel77 @saphic-stories @drarrylov3r @i-cant-hear-you16 @deadlymistress24 @yesqueenofthelight @generallj @thebeckyjolene @captainjacklynmarie @villainmade

#femi!reader #ewan mcgregor #ewan mcgregor fluff #ewan mcgregor angst #ewan mcgregor pov #ewan mcgregor fanfiction #roman sionis #roman sionis fanfiction #roman sionis imagine #roman sionis smut #roman sionis angst #roman sionis pov #roman sionis x y/n #roman sionis x you #roman sionis x reader #black mask #black mask smut #black mask angst #black mask imagine #black mask fanfiction #black mask x y/n #black mask x reader #black mask x you #birds of prey #bop #love at the black mask club #joker #falcone #penguin #two face

[juliettalfacharlie]

Day 5, alt: "I'm sorry."

CW illness, vomiting, and injury. Shameless plug for the house I designed.

Kya awoke to the sound of violent retching, and she immediately threw off the covers and hurried down the hall. Lin had begun a new medication for chronic pain. A lifetime spent on the police force meant her body had been bruised and battered more times than Lin could begin recalling, and her spinal discs had worn out far more rapidly than others her age. She experienced pain and stiffness, which otherwise would have had a chance of being manageable, but she also had weakened muscle control and infrequent numbness in her legs. She'd been forced to retire years before she'd ever planned, and it had been extremely difficult for her to cope with.

Walking had become a challenge on the worst days, and even when she retained feeling in her lower body, she felt fiery pain in her back whenever she moved. The spine wasn't an area with abundant bloodflow, and healing couldn't repair collagen; Kya was absolutely miserable watching her struggle, unable to assist in any physical way.

Lin was nauseous in the late afternoon, a few hours after taking the pills. She'd insisted on sleeping in the guest room so she wouldn't wake Kya if she felt ill. Kya had firmly opposed, but Lin wouldn't be swayed. In the end, Kya gave in, hoping it was just because Lin believed she'd weather the illness better alone.

Now, standing atop the wrong carpet, looking into the wrong bathroom, Kya was filled with extreme regret over not fighting her more. Lin was leaning heavily on the sink, forearms supporting most of her weight. Her legs trembled, as she was clearly experiencing partial paralysis, and her chest shook with heaving breaths. The room was almost pitch black, like she hadn't had the time to turn on the light before she heaved into the basin.

"Lin?" Kya called, voice soft. She couldn't be sure if Lin was aware of her presence, incapacitated as she was.

Her girlfriend gagged though nothing came up. She grunted, trying to clear her throat. "I'm sorry, did I wake you up?" she asked, uncharacteristically quiet. Her throat was horribly sore. "I should have gone to the treehouse."

Kya had moved to Lin's side, and she froze, horrified. "Losing an hour of sleep is nothing compared to you struggling without any support." she chided, wiping sweat from Lin's cool forehead.

"I shouldn't need support, it's only emesis." the younger woman countered, hands clenched into fists. Kya hardened, easily seeing through Lin's spiked boldness.

"If you're sick, I want to be there. Please don't try and hide it from me. I shouldn't have let you sleep alone." Kya murmured, carefully rubbing a hand over Lin's shoulders.

The metalbender shuddered, eyes fluttering shut. Her brows were pinched, and Kya couldn't tell if it was due to physical discomfort or a conflict of emotions. Lin had never wholly embraced being taken care of, and it had worsened immensely as her body began to break down.

Lin's muscles tensed, once again heaving into the sink. Her stomach had emptied itself of her lunch, and instead she coughed up a surge of bile.

The sting in her throat made her gag, gut twisting painfully. She swiped at the faucet handles, turning the tap on full blast.

Kya bent water around the basin, cleaning the sides, before she brought a globe of fresh water to Lin's face. Her wife opened her mouth and rinsed out the taste, then Kya also sent that down the drain.

Lin instinctively wiped her mouth though it was dry, before rubbing away the tears that had formed in the corner of her eyes. Kya shut off the water, keeping a small amount on her palm, and she raised her hand to Lin's neck.

The younger woman tilted her chin up just so, allowing Kya access to heal the irritation along her throat. It was a process that only took a few moments, and soon enough Lin was clean and well once again.

Lin struggled off of her forearms, pressing her palms into the counter as she slowly straightened her back. She exhaled in pain, eyes once again falling shut.

"Will you come back to bed with me?" Kya asked, and Lin nodded once, holding one arm out.

Wordlessly, Kya slipped under it, supporting some of Lin's weight as she stood fully.

The first steps Lin took were terribly shaky, knees and ankles not bending correctly, but Kya was used to the imbalance. She tightened her arm around Lin's ribs, helping her break through the stiffness. By the time they were in the hallway, Lin had more control over herself, and she stopped hanging off of Kya's neck.

The pace was slow, neither wanting to risk a misstep, but with tired minds the time seemed to pass by quickly anyways.

Kya brought Lin to the edge of their bed, carefully letting her sit. The earthbender's face was still tight with pain.

"Uh, would you mind getting the warming balm?" Lin whispered, and Kya quickly replied in the positive.

A mix of camphor and menthol seemed to the the only relief for Lin's back pain, as she didn't typically want to try ingestible pain reliever. This night was the first time she'd caved, though it clearly hadn't helped; Kya would certainly have a word with Lin's physician come morning.

Jars of the salve were kept across the house, and Kya grabbed the one kept inside the nightstand. It was most frequently replaced, as any niggling pain made it difficult for Lin to sleep.

Lin reclined and turned onto her side, back facing Kya. The waterbender unscrewed the lid, taking a healthy dollop onto her finger before she set the container on the bedside table. She slid her clean hand under Lin's t-shirt, pushing it up her back.

Neither woman spoke as Kya rubbed the salve into Lin's muscles, trying to ease some of the tension within. It was relieving that Lin had asked for help in the first place. When she was tired she was still prone to shutting Kya out, as she'd done at first, but a lot of progress had been made regarding clear communication. Lin's progressive decline had caused a hiccup in their seamless coexistence, though it never affected their relationship beyond a few hours of brooding here and there.

As the balm began to take effect, Lin's back finally relaxed. Kya felt the tension slowly ebb until she'd all but melted into the mattress, clearly exhausted.

Kya removed her hands, pulling Lin's top down to cover the balm. One hand lingered atop Lin's hip as she leaned in, placing a kiss on the back of Lin's neck.

"Thank you." Lin spoke, gravely and weak. When she cleared her throat Kya could imagine the pinched annoyance on her face.

"You're welcome. Of course, Lin," Kya responded, "All I want is for you to feel like you can rely on me for help." she said.

Lin slowly turned onto her back, taking Kya's hand in hers. "It isn't that I don't trust you. I hope you don't think that," she sighed, considering her words. She’d been silently working to articulate her feelings, not wanting Kya to ever doubt her role in Lin’s life.

"It's- I'm telling you, it's all me. I've always been against letting people see my... imperfections, or- weaknesses. Weaknesses. You know my retirement was hard, and spirits, the press. But what felt even worse was just, how.... you were so understanding, always. I'd have a bad day and you would simply work around it, like it was no big deal. You stayed with me during Vesak instead of spending it on the island, and I was terrible to you that day. I felt so much loathing for myself, and I still do. I'm so grateful to have you, but I- it's," she paused, a noise of frustration in her throat. It was hard enough to procure the words to what she was feeling, but she was also extremely mindful not to say something that could be taken harmfully. She went over her thoughts to weed out phrases that sounded ungrateful, or implied she didn’t trust Kya, as it was the opposite of what she wanted to communicate.

Despite the silence, Kya didn't speak; Lin was telling her, it wasn't a conversation. The metalbender needed to voice her thoughts without comment. Any words of affirmation refuting her statements only made her retreat. Kya was able to show Lin, later on, how she herself saw things differently.

"I never saw myself having this future. Not only the retirement part, however awful it's been, but our relationship. When we were younger it was because of our ages, but even when you came out I didn't think you'd ever look my way. While I wasn't romantically attracted to you, I always pictured you finding that perfect partner; brilliant, beautiful, selfless, adventurous, maybe even someone who shared your terrible sense of humour. Whoever it was, she’d have all of your wonderful qualities as well. I think- I’ve been putting far too much pressure on myself to live up to that, I suppose,” Lin was partially speaking aloud for herself at that point, voicing niggling thoughts and realizing their truth. “I’m sorry I’ve been difficult.” she mumbled, though it was the wrong thing to say.

Kya tsk’d, “You’re not allowed to apologize for being upset or feeling unwell.” she reminded firmly, and Lin squeezed her hand.

“I’m sorry I tried to hide from you, then. You don’t deserve that.” Lin corrected.

“I’m glad you’re speaking to me now. I know everyone copes in their own ways, and I understand your silence, but if you need help it’s pertinent I know,” the waterbender said, scooting closer to Lin’s side, “You’re aware of it, and I know you’re trying. I’m not upset.” she emphasized, and Lin turned her head into Kya’s chest.

“I love you.” she said, bringing their joined hands up to shoulder-level. Come morning she’d hopefully be able to explain more, but she’d exhausted both her mental and physical reserves. Sensing it, Kya’s other arm went around Lin’s stomach. She was halfway-sideways and halfway on her stomach, laying atop her girlfriend, and Lin enjoyed her warm weight.

“I know.” Kya replied, tucking her chin down on the crown of Lin’s head. “I love you too.” she murmured, finally letting her eyes fall shut.

#i began this on the 4th & thought i was very well ahead #i was wrong #kyalin #lin beifong #kya lok #angstpril #cw mental health

[radishaur]

May I request a female reader x zuko where both the reader and zuko have burn scars on their faces and the gaang asks about it? the reader has the scar because she tried to jump in front of zuko and protect him when he faced his father but he still got scarred anyways. Then ozai decides she should face the same fate so she ends up getting burned as well? (Also can the reader be a firebender and zuko and her have been dating since childhood??) sorry if it’s a lot I’ve had this idea for a while

For sure! I hope you like the concept. I know it’s probably very different than you were expecting but I hope you like it nonetheless.

- Zoe

•••

Scars of Love (Zuko x Reader)

Warnings: Burn imagery

Genre: Fluff

Part: 1/2

Summary: See request

•••

The temple was silent as we both stared as each side stared at each other. Y/N stood slightly behind me as I introduced myself. The tension in the air was thick as I spoke.

“Hello, Zuko here,” I said, giving a small wave to the group.

I began to explain why I was here as the group held their defensive positions. Y/N stood awkwardly by my side, but I could tell she was trying her best to keep her head up high. She had always been shy around new people. Now that she no longer had her black mask, which covered her burn scar, she was even more so.

The Gaang dropped their positions slightly upon hearing my intent, but then immediately got back into position again. They only spoke once or twice to argue against what I was saying. When I finally finished, I waited eagerly for a response.

They eyed me cautiously before turning their attention to Y/N. She shuffled slightly closer to me and gave a small wave. I realized I hadn’t actually introduced her before. I smiled reassuringly at her before turning to face the others.

“This is Y/N. She’s the girl you’ve probably seen by my side when...I was tracking you. And also my girlfriend,” I said sheepishly.

The Gaang was surprised to know I had a girlfriend, but they didn’t question it. Instead, they began to question why she hadn’t spoken yet.

“Why hasn’t she said anything? Isn’t she gonna try and convince us of your change of heart?” Katara asked, her voice filled with venom.

Y/N shuffled uncomfortably before looking at me. She began signing to me and I saw the Gaang watch in shock out of the corner of my eye.

“What’s happening?” Toph asked, not understanding what was going on.

I gave Y/N a small smile as she finished and began repeating what she said to them.

“Y/N is mute. She says she’s sorry for chasing you all and that she would also like to teach you firebending,” I translated, looking at them all as they stood still in shock.

“I always wondered why she never spoke,” Sokka mumbled quietly, mostly to himself.

The Gaang looked to Aang to see what to do. Y/N grabbed onto my sleeve out of nervousness. I watched Aang as he looked at me.

“You both want to be my firebending teachers?” he asked cautiously.

“Y/N and I are some of the best firebenders in the Fire Nation. We both want to help you defeat my father,” I explained.

I saw Aang look over at the group to see what they would say. Katara and Toph were too busy watching us to notice, but Sokka gave his a small shake of his head to say no. His gaze hardened when he turned back to us and told us to go.

We obeyed and only got to join the group once we saved them from the assassin. Both Y/N and I thanked them and we began to grow closer to them as time passed. Y/N accompanied me on all of the, as the Gaang called them, life changing field trips and they all warmed up to her much quicker than me.

Technically, most of the things they endured during our chase of them was from me. Y/N was usually not the one to actually capture them and was usually only there as my support. She wasn’t the one to instigate anything, so they forgave her quicker.

She, in turn, became more comfortable around them as well. She taught them some basic signs so that they could understand her and the Gaang tried their best to understand what she was saying. Most of the time, I ended up having to translate for her but when they did happen to understand, Y/N never looked happier.

I knew it weighed on her heavily that she couldn’t speak like everyone else did. Like she used to be able to. I bore a large amount of guilt for that fact. After all, it was my own mistake that caused her to get the scar on her face and loose her ability to talk.

We never discussed it, but I knew we would have to sooner than later. The Gaang always looked at our scars when they thought we weren’t looking, not out of disgust but curiousity. My scar was not as easily hidden as Y/N’s was, but her’s was much more intense. Her’s covered the entire bottom right side of her face, from her cheekbone to her neck. It went entirely over her right ear and the corner of her lips as well. It was much bigger and noticeable than my own, which was why she usually wore her mask.

I knew the Gaang was curious as to how we had both gotten scarred, so when we were all sitting around the campfire one night getting to know each other better at the Ember Island house, I wasn’t surprised when one of them finally asked.

“So,” Sokka began, clearly nervous about approaching the topic, “How did you guys get your scars?”

Y/N clutched my hand harder and looked at me confidently. She always hated having to hear the story again, but I could tell she didn’t want to lie to them. Usually, we just lied and said we had aquired them in a training exercise. But Y/N’s expression told me that she wanted them to know the truth.

I sighed, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead before turning to the group. They were all waited patiently for me to explain. Y/N squeezed my hand reassuringly and I took a deep breath. I would have to start at the beginning.

“Y/N and I have known each other since we were kids. Her father was a high ranking General in my Father’s military and her family would be at the Palace almost every day. We grew to be friends fairly quickly and were even engaged when we were only 10,” I started, bracing myself for the harder parts of the story.

“You guys were engaged at 10?” Aang asked in shock.

“Fire Nation children usually get married as soon as they’re of age, but especially when you’re a part of the Royal Family. They want to ensure that the throne will be passed down, which usually means your significant other is chosen from a young age,” I explained, looking over at Y/N before adding softly, “Very few are lucky enough to be engaged to someone they actually love.”

Y/N smiled at me and pressed a small kiss to my shoulder before encouraging me to continue. Toph was making fake gagging noises while the rest of the Gaang watched with happy smiles. I blushed slightly before continuing.

“Y/N and I had been dating for a few years before my father aquired the throne. My grandfather passed away and my Uncle, who was supposed to inherit the throne, didn’t have any kids so my father got it instead. Learning I was going to be Fire Lord someday made me want to start learning everything as soon as possible,” I continued, the feeling of dread growing in my stomach as I explained, “I begged my Uncle to let me into a war meeting when I was 13. He warned me not to speak out, but I didn’t listen. I criticized an old general’s plan and in doing so, disrespected him.”

Y/N scooted closer to me and gave my hand another supportive squeeze. I could tell she was just as nervous as I was for me to continue, but she was being strong for me. It was something I always loved about her.

“I was challenged to an Agni Kai. It’s a firebending duel that ends when someone gets burned,” I spoke, noticing them beginning to connect the dots as I continued, “I thought I would be fighting the General, but...I turned to face my opponent and saw my father instead.”

The faces of the Gaang immediately filled with horror. Y/N had tears brimming her eyes as she remembered the fateful day. She and I both remembered what had happened like it was yesterday.

“I refused to fight him. I begged for his forgiveness instead. He insisted that I get up and fight, but I didn’t. He was just about to burn me when Y/N stopped him. She jumped into the ring and stood in front of me, screaming about how what he was doing was wrong and that he wouldn’t let him hurt me,” I said, my voice cracking slightly as I finished explaining, “My father burned her for her disobedience and then burned me for my dishonorable refusal to fight. He banished both of us, only allowing us to return when I captured the Avatar.”

The group was silent as they let my words sink in. I had a small stream of guilty tears threatening to fall from my eyes and pulled Y/N close to me. I still felt so guilty about everything that had happened. I felt Y/N wipe her tears away before encouraging me to continue. I took a shaky breath before explaining the last part of the story.

“Both of the burns scarred, but Y/N’s burn was worse as added punishment. In the Fire Nation, your country comes before everything else. Feelings are seen as weak, especially those of love. Since she had put her love for me above what was “best for the nation”, she got a worse burn. When she was screaming...,” I trailed off, not trusting my voice to actually produce any sounds if I continued.

Y/N hugged me closer and then pulled away from me to face the group. She began signing and waited expectantly for me to translate. She always knew it was easier for me to translate her own words than to speak my own, especially when I was emotional.

“The fire managed to make its way into her mouth and throat. It burned her vocal chords and caused her to loose her ability to talk. She went mute as soon as the fire hit her throat,” I managed to say, my voice wavering as I spoke.

The guilt of her injuries was enough to crush me from the inside out. If I hadn’t of spoken out at the meeting, none of this would have happened to her. She could have lived a normal life. One without a scar and a disability. I would never forgive myself for it.

Y/N must have seen what I was thinking because she smacked my arm and began signing furiously. I barely had time to read what she was saying.

“Don’t blame yourself. I chose to stand up for you. I don’t regret it, even for a second,” she signed, her caring gaze empty of any signs of hate.

I smiled weakly at her before kissing her forehead once more and pulling her in for a hug. She signed I love you onto my back and I couldn’t help but laugh slightly before signing it on her back as well.

I almost forgot the group was there until I heard Aang speak.

“I knew the Fire Lord was evil, but I never thought he could do something like that,” he said quietly.

“I’m gonna kick his ass next time I see him,” Toph exclaimed, punching her own palm.

“Seriously, Aang if you don’t kill him then I will,” Sokka added, wiping a stray tear of his own.

“I guess that explains why you were so set on capturing Aang,” Suki said softly.

Y/N began to sign once more and the Gaang did their best to translate it. I could see them struggling so I just decided to translate it for them.

“She says that the reason I wanted to capture the Avatar so bad was because I felt guilty about causing her so much pain,” I said, smiling at her as she nodded to me in thanks.

“You guys are lucky. I don’t know a lot of people who love each other like you guys do,” Katara said, a small smile on her face.

“Yea. I’m the luckiest man in the world,” I whispered, my attention returning to the beautiful woman beside me.

The rest of the group escaped my consciousness as I pulled Y/N into a kiss. Her lips were soft besides a small rough patch from her scar. I didn’t mind though. I would kiss her again and again and again for the rest of my life. She truly made me feel like the luckiest man in the world.

I would love her until the end of time.

#zuko #prince zuko fanfic #prince zuko fanfiction #prince zuko fic #zuko imagine #zuko x reader #prince zuko #prince zuko x reader #zuko x disabled reader

[lemonpeter]

Day 19 - Consensual Non-Consent (Bucky/Peter)

I hope everyone enjoys 🧡

Warnings: consensual non-consent, spitting, degrading language, public sex, oral sex, Its mentioned multiple times that it is indeed consensual

————

Peter heard steps behind him and both his breathing and his walking pace quickened. He knew he was close to home. Almost there. Then he would be safe.

Except the steps got closer.

And closer.

And when he glanced back he could tell that the person following him was definitely bigger than him.

He was in trouble. Serious trouble.

He gripped his keys tighter, inhaling sharply when he began to see the shadow of someone walking next to him. No. No, he couldn’t let anything happen.

Then there was a cold, inorganic hand gripping the back of his neck and pulling him into the alley directly next to where he had been walking. It was dark. Hidden away completely from the street. And it was too late for anyone to hear or see him anyways.

He was trapped.

The figure turned him around and pressed him to the wall, keeping him in place with the same cool metal that had grabbed him in the first place.

His attacker was larger than him in every way; the man was tall and seemed like pure muscle underneath the thin clothing he was wearing.

Peter shivered, looking up at him.

His face was mostly covered with long hair and shadowed by a baseball cap that he kept low.

“Why’s a pretty thing like you out walking alone?” The attacker mumbled, free hand pushing up his cap slightly so that Peter could see his face.

Peter couldn’t help but smile slightly at the sight of his boyfriend, but quickly dropped the expression as best he could. He didn’t need to be smiling during the scene. He was supposed to be scared.

“I was just going home from work,” Peter whispered, voice trembling just slightly. “Please, let me go, I need to go home-“

Bucky cut him off with a click of his tongue, shaking his head. “Oh, no, sweetheart. You aren’t going anywhere until I get what I want.” He grinned wickedly, staring at the younger man.

Peter melted against the wall he was pressed against, going boneless at the words and the possessive look in Bucky’s eyes. Maybe it was wrong to want something so terrible. But he so badly wanted to be used. And he wanted to fight. “No, sir, I can’t!”

“And why not? Got a little boyfriend waiting on you back home? I’m sure he won’t mind his slut sucking someone else off for once. You’ll be fine.” He grinned again, eyes flashing with something dangerous.

“No, I can’t, I’m not- please, stop,” Peter choked out, feeling Bucky’s flesh hand press against his stomach before beginning to undo his jeans.

Bucky huffed, getting the zipper down with ease. “You can.” He said firmly. “And you will.” He palmed at Peter’s clearly hard cock through the opening in his undone jeans and he chuckled. “I knew you’d like this.”

The younger man whined, trying to pull back and get away from Bucky.

If he really wanted to get away, he only would have needed a little bit of his strength. But he just wanted to fight a little, he didn’t want to actually get away. He wanted to be taken.

Bucky held him tightly with the metal hand, roughly pulling him back and keeping him in place. “I don’t think so, doll. You’re just going to make this harder for yourself.”

Peter whimpered, staring up at him. He felt a metal finger working to pull his lips apart and he tried hard to keep his lips pressed together but Bucky was stronger.

The older man’s thumb slid easily between Peter’s lips, using the leverage to roughly pull his bottom jaw down. There. Then he couldn’t close his mouth again.

Bucky smirked, looking at the young man. He looked terrified, but beneath that he looked incredibly turned on. He leaned in closer, almost seeming like he was going to kiss Peter, even with the odd position he was holding the man’s jaw in.

Then he spit directly on Peter’s tongue.

The action caused his eyes to go wide and he moaned, hips bucking weakly into the open air.

“Fuckin’ slut,” Bucky mumbled fondly, letting go of his jaw and moving the hand back to Peter’s neck. “Swallow.”

And swallow Peter did. He tried to make it seem reluctant, like he was repulsed by what his ‘attacker’ was doing to him. But his leaking cock made it hard to seem turned off.

Bucky grinned, blue eyes seeming cold in the pale moonlight that illuminated his face. “Good boy.”

The words were praise, but they were laced with a venomous tone and condescension.

Peter shivered, looking up at him with wide eyes. There were tears brimming, threatening to spill over. He wasn’t sure if they were from the intensity of the scene or how frustratingly horny he was.

Probably both.

“Now get on your knees,” Bucky ordered him. He started shoving him down without warning, not really waiting for a response. He knew he would have to be forceful anyways.

“No!” Peter shouted, tears slipping down his cheeks. “I can’t. I won’t.”

“You can. And you will.” Using very little actual force, Bucky pushed Peter onto his knees.

The sharp pebbles on the ground made the young man wince, his pants doing very little to actually protect his knees. But he knew the residual pain would just remind him of the encounter. And he was okay with that.

He whined again from his place on the ground, thrashing around and trying to cause Bucky’s grip to loosen.

It didn’t.

The harsh sound of a zipper quickly being pulled down heated Peter’s blood all over again, making his clothed cock throb. Time for the main event.

Bucky pushed his pants down without much thought, boxers following them until he was completely uncovered.

His thick, beautifully cut cock unceremoniously was brought out, nearly coming into contact with Peter’s cheek as it bowed under its own weight.

The younger man was definitely drooling, unable to help himself as he stared at it. “No, don’t make me, I’ve never done anything like that,” he whimpered.

But his open mouth only gave Bucky the opportunity that he needed.

He guided his cock to the young man’s lips, pushing in as soon as he took a breathing break from his words.

Peter quickly tried to pull away, but made sure to keep his teeth tucked behind his lips. They didn’t need accidental injury during the scene.

Bucky gripped the back of his boyfriend’s head, keeping him in a place that he wouldn’t be able to pull away. He could only take everything that Bucky wanted him to take.

He was crying again, face wet with streaked tears and drool escaping the sides of his mouth as it was shoved full of cock.

The sight made Bucky moan and force his cock further until he had bottomed out, heavy balls resting against Peter’s chin. “I knew you could do it. Fuck, doll, don’t gag,” he chided as he felt Peter’s throat spasm around him.

The other man was doing his best not to choke, breathing through his nose as he swallowed hard around the intrusion. Then he began weakly sucking, tongue massaging what spots he could reach.

Even acting like he wanted to resist, he was going to blow his boyfriend just how he liked. He couldn’t help himself.

Bucky moaned, hips quickly thrusting as he fucked the man’s mouth. “That’s it, taking it like a fuckin’ champ. You’re a pro at this, you know that? God, I can’t believe you wanted to act like I was doing’ somethin’ wrong. You obviously love this,” he babbled, hand keeping a tight grip on Peter’s hair.

Peter felt the cock give a hard twitch and he knew it wouldn’t be much longer. He closed his eyes, still crying as his throat was fucked raw.

But even with the tears, he had one hand on himself, jerking himself off weakly through his boxers. He was likely to cum even before Bucky and the other man was obviously only minutes away. Maybe less.

The first spurt of salty, bitter cum almost took him by surprise. He choked again, only causing Bucky to moan louder and thrust harder.

“That’s it, doll...you’d better swallow it all. Don’t waste any,” he breathed, hips giving a few weak jerks as he rode out his high.

Peter gave a weak moan around his cock, swallowing what he could before he simply froze as his own orgasm tore through him. His hips bucked, trying to get the necessary friction as he finished.

They both took a minute to calm down, riding out their highs and settling back down.

Bucky’s softening cock slipped from between Peter’s lips and he tucked himself away again, fixing his boxers and pants like nothing happened.

Peter seemed fairly out of it, eyes unfocused as he slowly took in the feeling of tacky cum drying against his underwear and skin. Not the most pleasant feeling, but it helped ground him.

He slowly looked up to Bucky, hands reaching up.

Bucky laughed softly, slowly helping him up and kissing her forehead gently. “You’re a mess,” he whispered, slowly doing Peter’s pants up. “We’ll clean you up once we get home. You ready?”

Peter nodded, smiling softly.

Yeah. They had to do that again.

#peter parker #bucky barnes x peter parker #bucky barnes #winterspider #nff winterspider #peter x bucky #bri does kinktober #kinktober with bri #kinktober 2020 #nff #my writing #cnc tw #tw con noncon

[thatgoblin]

Taken

A Zemo/Reader fic

Summary: To get to Zemo, John Walker takes someone precious to him to lure the Baron out.

Warnings: Kidnapping, slight violence, implied death

No smut this time around, just some hurt comfort. ^-^

Words: 2668

One moment you were closing at a café in Switzerland, the next moment a handsome blond man with an American accent was asking for you by name. You didn’t recognize him at all, but your gut was telling you something was off about the man. He was fidgety, almost like he was nervous or on something. While you finish closing the shop, he continues to talk to you about needing your help in finding someone. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I can be much help,” you say as you put the last of the chairs in place.

“I’m sure if you knew who I was looking for, you’d be able to help me find them,” he says, pushing the subject as he steps closer to you. You took notice, remembering the quickest distance to the back door. There was really only one person that you could maybe help find and that would be a big Maybe. “I’m looking for Baron Helmut Zemo. I’m pretty sure you would know where to find him.”

“Again, I’m sorry, but I don’t know a Baron or anyone by that name,” you say, trying to keep your nerves calm. The last time you spoke to Helmut was a month ago on a phone call. He’d been in prison for acts of terrorism, but you still loved him. Even when he took a darker path to deal with the loss of his family and country, you stood by him as everyone had abandoned him to rot in a German prison as if he’d be in the complete wrong. 

The two of you had met shortly after he and his wife had separated amicably. While they were still legally married, they lived in different homes while both raising their son. It wasn’t your place to judge and you had loved the boy as if he was your own. A year later Sokovia was destroyed and both of your worlds shattered. While you tried to keep moving forward, doing your best to help, Helmut couldn’t cope. Revenge was all he wanted, even above you. After he was arrested, you found out from the news and then a phone call. Slowly, the two of you rekindled your love into something new. There was no way to get back what you had, but it was something at least and it was something you could live with.

“I’m pretty sure you do. I looked at his prison call logs and there’s only ever one person who he calls and that’s a number listed under your name,” the man says, holding up sheets of paper with your number listed for numerous calls. 

“If you know he’s in prison, then you know where he is. Now, I’m closing, so please leave the store. I have an early morning shift and I’d like to go home,” you say, putting your hands on your hips as you glare at him. 

“I’m afraid I can’t do that. I need you to find Zemo for me. Now,” the man says, tucking the papers away before moving closer into your space. “I don’t want to hurt you, but if you don’t get him on the phone now, I won’t have a choice.”

“You should leave, now,” you say as you back away to give you space. “I’ll start screaming and then the police will come.”

The man sighs and shakes his head. Before you open your mouth to alert anyone, he was on you with his hand over your mouth. 

“This wasn’t plan A,” he growls. 

Despite struggling as hard as you can, the man is able to overpower you. It was if you were wrestling a bear, there was no way for you to win. In a few quick movements, his arm was around your neck and squeezing. Just a couple of moments had you black out. 

When you awake again, your head is throbbing and your neck is stiff. Groaning softly, you try to sit up, but find your wrists bound behind your back along with your ankles as you lay on your side. A thick piece of cloth is tied around your mouth tightly, muffling any noises you may make. Whimpering softly, you try to pull and tug to see if there are any weak spots, but the man or whoever has tied them made sure they were not coming off without a knife. Glancing around you see you are in an old factory with high windows that were covered in dust as chains hung from pulleys next to huge vats.

The night air is freezing, your breath visible in big, white puffs. You still don’t know where you have been taken. It wasn’t Switzerland, and while you had worn a coat to work, you were left in your work outfit of skinny jeans and a plain black v-neck tee. The outfit offered little protection from the elements, making you shiver.

“Good, you’re awake,” a voice says, catching your attention. It’s the man from before, but now he’s dressed up in a Captain America suit that had been altered. The image looks like a bastardization of the man Steve Rogers once was. “Now, I’m going to take off the gag. Then I’m going to have you give me a number to reach Zemo. Got it?”

You’re trying not not to panic as thoughts of what was happening run through your mind. Why did he want Helmut? Helmut was in prison, right? What was he going to do to you if you didn’t do what he wanted? What was he going to do to you if you did?

His gloved hand pulls the gag from your lips as he holds up the phone for you to give him the number. It was a long shot, but you had one that he gave you for if anything happened and you needed help while he was locked away. You weren’t sure who would pick up on the other end, but there wasn’t much of a choice. Giving him the number, your heartbeat pounds in your ears as you hear the ringing. 

“Liebling?” A voice says over the phone. Your eyes tear up at the sound of his voice. It had been so long since you’d last been together that just that one word had you nearly falling apart. He sounded excited almost. Had he been waiting for you to call him?

“Unfortunately no,” the man says, putting the phone to his ear. “It seems I did find the easiest way to get to you. I will say you certainly have taste.”

His voice is smug as he smiles down at you. The urge to kick out at him was there, but you also didn’t know how he’d react. Most likely it would be violent. 

“I have something of yours and you have something of mine. Now, we can make a deal for an exchange or I can keep this new toy for myself. I’m sure they’d look real nice with those lips-” The man starts, but is cut off. You can only imagine what Helmut had said to silence him. “I’ll send you the address. You have two hours.” 

The man shuts the phone, ending the call as he squats next to you. 

“Just let me go,” you plea, grunting as you struggle. “Helmut is not someone to play games with. All that will happen is your death.”

“Oh, I doubt it. See, I have something very precious to him. He won’t risk you getting hurt,” the man says. “If he knows what’s good for you and him, he’ll give me what I want without trying to be a hero.”

“Is that what you’re supposed to be? A hero in that joke of a suit?” You snap, glaring at him. “Steve Rogers must be rolling over in his grave with you in-” A hard slap knocks your head into the floor, making you see spots. 

“You will respect me,” he snarls before shoving the gag back into your mouth. 

You lie on the ground with a throbbing cheek and temple as you watch the man pace back and forth as the both of you wait for Helmut to come. What did he have that the man wanted back so badly? There were so many things that could have been taken easily from other men, so why Helmut?

At the hour and a half mark, you hear a door open from the other side of a vat that you were by. Stiffening, you look to see the man stand up straight with the Captain America shield at the ready on one arm and his hand on his holstered gun. 

“Walker,” Helmut says. “I am here and have held up my end of the bargain. Now, where are they?” You knew his voice so well, the way it would get lower as he became angry or higher when he was feeling mischievous. The tone he had then, it wasn’t one you knew, making you even more on edge. 

“Give me the serum first,” Walker says, standing in Helmut’s eye line.

“I don’t think so. I see that Y/N is alive then I give you the serum,” Helmut says, his voice nearly a growl. Walker huffs, but does as he’s told. Stepping over to you, he hefts you up by an arm to drag you out into Helmut’s view. 

“There,” Walker says, holding you up as you try to stay balanced with tied ankles. Looking over, you saw Helmut. A sense of relief washed over you at seeing he was the same. Freshly shaven, wearing a rather ridiculous coat, but still the same Helmut you knew and loved. “Now, the serum.”

Helmut on the other hand has his poker face on. There was nothing but a blank slate with a slight frown to hide anything that may give a plan away. His stance said he was in control and would remain in control no matter what happened. 

Taking a few steps forward slowly, Helmut pulls a small vial of blue liquid in it from his coat pocket. Making sure every move is telegraphed, he sets it on the ground before rolling it to Walker. The blond stopped the vial with his foot, keeping hold of you a moment before leaning down to cut the rope on your ankles and grab the vial. 

“Now let them go, do not make me ask again,” Helmut says, keeping his gaze leveled on Walker. 

“First I see if the serum works,” Walker says as he pops the lid of the vial off before jerking your gag off to force the vial into your mouth to take a forced sip. It was bitter with a metallic after taste, making you cough and gag. A few moments of breath held silence pass as you look to Helmut scared and confused as your stomach turns suddenly when the substance hits it. “Looks like it’s not poison,” Walker chuckles before downing the rest of the vial. Smashing it on the ground, Walker grunts as he lets go of your arm before falling to his knees as he begins to vomit violently. 

You step away out of his arm’s reach, fearing he would grab you again. Helmut is quick, rushing over to grab you to run. 

“Quickly,” he says, grabbing your arm to run before you realize how severely sick Walker is. Trying not to fall, you focus on running with Helmut to a car that is waiting for you. “Sit,” he instructs as he pulls open a door for you, letting you collapse into the front passenger seat. 

“What was that stuff?” You manage to ask as your stomach starts to cramp. 

“Ipecac syrup,” he says as he pulls out a knife. Slicing through the ropes on your wrists, he tore  them away to toss aside. “It won’t kill you, just make you sick. Is there anyone else here with him?”

“No I don't’ think so,” you say, shaking your head before quickly regretting it. Your stomach is angry with him, but you were safe. 

“Stay here, do not get out of the car for any reason. I will be back, I promise,” he says, tilting your face up to look at him. “I promise.” A soft kiss to your head and he was rushing back into the warehouse with his coat tails flapping behind him. 

You wanted to beg him to stay, to drive the both of you away from that man and place. Except every time you opened your mouth, your stomach threatened to empty itself. So you sat there, grasping the door frame as you sat leaning over the side of the seat in case you weren’t able to keep your last meal down. Closing your eyes, you had meant to take deep breaths to help ride the nausea out, but instead you were gifted with Helmut’s scent. It was musky with a hint of tobacco and motor oil. It was familiar and comforting because it meant that Helmut was there and if he was there, then you were safe. 

How many times had you tried to recreate it but failed to do so? Something to help with the heartache of him leaving you for vengeance instead of trying to put his ghosts to rest. It wasn’t fair at all how he was back in your life, but he was and you weren’t sure for how long. Should you hope for something, a life on the run with him? It would be better than pining for him in a different country. 

Your stomach settles, having only had a tiny bit of the syrup, you are able to sit up again in time to hear gunshots go off in the warehouse. You whip your head around to see the door still closed. A minute later Helmut walks out, his face that same blank slate with a slight frown. Without a word, he walks around to your side to shut your door before going to the driver’s side to step in. 

“Helmut-” You start, but stop at the look he gives you. It wasn’t angry or upset, no, it was fear. 

“We will talk at the safe house. I do not want to linger for long here,” he says, taking your hand to press a kiss to your cold fingers. Without letting go of your hand, Helmut drives you two to the safe house in question. It is almost an hour away, but the more distance between you and the warehouse feels better. 

Once there, he parks then leads you inside. He’d shrugged his large coat off to wrap around you to offer some sort of warmth till he could get you some proper clothes for the weather.

“Zemo!” A voice yells, followed by several pairs of feet marching towards you. Two men rounded the corner to find you and Helmut standing in the foyer. Their brows are furrowed and mouths set, but once they saw you, the anger melted into confusion. Even though they seemed to not be a danger, you can’t help pressing against Helmut in fear. “What the hell is going on?” One in a brown leather jacket asks.

“I told you, I had business to attend to,” Helmut says, his arm tightening around you. “I am finished and have returned.”

“That’s not much of an explanation,” the other man says, his left arm made of metal. They look between you and Helmut, waiting for one of you to speak up.

“I know. Now, if you’ll excuse me, my guest needs to be shown to their room,” Helmut says with a smirk as he leads you away from them. “They are friendly, they won’t hurt you,” he says softly into your ear. “Come, let us get you cleaned up. I know you must have questions and I will do my best to answer them.”

Despite still being confused, the fact that Helmut is there comforts you. If anyone was going to keep you safe no matter what, it would be him.

#zemo/reader #zemo fanfiction #i fucking did it bitches

[pricemarshfield]

fresh as a daisy

Chapter 2/2. Requested by @renluthor: dani/ainsley angst/angry makeout? 

Read on AO3 here.

Ainsley wakes up to a text from her brother and Dani pressed up against her, back to front. She's breathing slow and steady, like she doesn't have a care in the world. She does, of course--Ainsley's learned how crime scenes haunt her girlfriend(?) in the way she wakes up stiff and frozen, sometimes, like Ainsley does when she dreams about not-Endicott's blood on her hands. She's lied and said something about that time she got locked in Claremont, and Dani believed her, and that's the worst fucking part.

"I can hear you thinking from here," Dani murmurs, voice rumbling against Ainsley's chest. Ainsley doesn't jump, but it's a near thing. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Ainsley says, too quickly, a lie meant to be caught.

Dani rolls over, eyes still hazy with sleep. "Come on, you can tell me."

Ainsley sighs, props her head up on her arm so she's leaning slightly over Dani. "I'm just worried about my meeting with the head reporter. He said he wants 'more' from my reports." It's easy enough to muster up annoyance about it, because she is annoyed with him.

"Carr?" Dani asks, and Ainsley grumbles, leans into Dani so she's pressed right into the crook of her neck. She could stay here for hours. "Fuck that guy."

Ainsley laughs, teeth scraping at Dani's skin mostly-on accident, and Dani shifts so that Ainsley's half-on top of her. "When do you have to go into work?"

"You're insatiable," Dani says with a little put-upon sigh that's as fake as the innocent expression Ainsley's definitely wearing right now.

"That's not actually an answer to my question," Ainsley says.

Dani doesn't respond for a second, and Ainsley pushes herself up to see a frown on her face. "In...less than an hour and a half, actually."

"Boo," Ainsley says, dramatically flopping back down. Dani's chest rumbles a little with laughter that Ainsley feels more than hears, and it's so fucking nice in a way that Ainsley's not used to yet, even after months of it all.

She hasn't looked at her phone yet. She knows it'll break the morning into something she has to deal with and not just luxuriate in.

"Do you have time for breakfast?" she asks instead, and Dani laughs.

"What, you're gonna cook?"

"Better than you," Ainsley says. "I didn't know you could burn toast that bad unless you were trying."

"You have all these weird 'smart' appliances, how is that my fault," Dani mutters. "I can make pancakes."

Ainsley hasn't had pancakes since she was young enough to still wear a bright pink dress with ruffles to school. "Sure."

--

Ainsley's mom had asked her to move back in, and she had been planning on it before--this, with Dani. She still goes back basically every day--she has a little study space in the basement--but it's nice to have a place that's hers.

And Dani's, in a way.

Dani has her own apartment, a place with chipped paint but plants everywhere, homey in a way that Ainsley hadn't thought was a real thing outside of home and garden magazines. She spends more nights than not here, though, and Ainsley's started to feel like the place is too big without her home.

She doesn't have a key yet. Ainsley has no idea when she should bring it up. If she should, even; there's that whole thing with the murder she got away with and Dani being a homicide detective.

Ainsley glances at her phone to see the text from Malcolm, complete with hidden message. She should check it. Dani's busy at the stove, it's the best time.

Dani hums some oldies song at the stove, the admittedly-weak smell of cooking pancakes wafting towards Ainsley, and she still can't bring herself to break the morning. Instead, she puts the phone facedown on the table, stands up, and wraps her arms around Dani from behind. Dani doesn't start or stiffen like she used to, when they were still figuring each other out.

"Is it supposed to look that lumpy?" Ainsley asks brightly.

"Yes," Dani says. "They're pancakes, it's not gonna be perfectly even."

"As long as they taste good," Ainsley says. She has to push herself up a little to rest her head against Dani's shoulder. It's not exactly comfortable, but she has no intentions of moving. Dani flips the pancakes with an expert little twist of the spatula, and Ainsley makes an impressed noise. "Where'd you learn to do that?"

"I worked at a diner in college," Dani says. "I was hired as a waitress, but I was way better behind the scenes." She shudders a little. "I hate customer service."

Ainsley's never had experience with customer service. She's thankful for that, but it does mean she doesn't have anything she can add, so she just hums agreement into Dani's shoulder. They sit and sway sway to the sound of pancakes cooking and their breathing for a little longer.

Dani covers her pancakes in almost as much syrup as Malcolm used to, and at Ainsley's disbelieving look, laughs, and says, "Really, you should try it!"

Ainsley does, if only so she can prove herself right, but it does end up being pretty tasty.

"Don't tell Malcolm," Ainsley says, ignoring all of her etiquette training to talk with her mouth full because she knows it'll make Dani smile. Sure enough, she does, and Ainsley feels this warm glow in her chest she's still not used to. "He'll be so smug."

"Really?" Dani says. "He doesn't seem the type."

Ainsley feels something twist in her stomach, remembering how horrified Malcolm was when he'd figured out that she faked it. She stands by it, of course she does, but yikes. He'd lied to her, why does she feel bad? There's the text she's ignoring, the worry around that...that's probably it.

Still, she can hardly check it with Dani at the table, so she smiles at her and says, "That's just 'cause he always had a soft spot for you."

There's an awkward beat of silence where both of them sit in the reality of that being true in a way that's completely at odds with them sitting across the table for each other, half-dressed and warm.

"I do have to head to work," Dani says after awhile, and Ainsley frowns as if she doesn't want her to go. In reality, she could use the time to check her texts, figure out how she's going to present herself when Dani gets home. Tired, probably, but not too tired, she's still working from home as much as she can. Happy to see her--that part she doesn't even have to fake.

"Aw," Ainsley says. "You coming back here after?"

"Of course," Dani says easily, like it's nothing to just let someone else in her life the way Ainsley's been letting her here.

Ainsley's not sure what tugs at her heart just then, but she's pretty sure it's not a good thing. Dani heads to the bedroom to get dressed while Ainsley finishes her pancakes. The syrup's significantly less enjoyable now that they're cold, sticking to her mouth in a way that makes her want to toss them in the trash.

Dani's not looking. She could.

She stares down at them for awhile too long, chewing on the mush in her mouth until she wants to gag. When Dani walks out of the room again, she looks up, forces herself to swallow, and smiles. "Heading out?"

"Yeah," Dani says, pressing a quick, casual kiss to Ainsley's cheek. Ainsley wants her to linger, but instead she rushes out. Ainsley has to get up and lock the door behind her, and she stands there, staring blankly at the front door of her own apartment for a bit.

Her phone buzzes in her pocket again, and she unlocks it. Something about a private investigator, because of course it's about a fucking private investigator. She just knows Malcolm's gonna lord this over her, talk about how this is proof he didn't overstep when he was trying to protect her. Biting back an annoyed reply--she has to give him the benefit of the doubt, save the rudeness for when he fucks up--she texts back something about meeting tomorrow.

Today she's trying to do something for Dani.

One: her apartment's always neat, but she remembers being told that neatness was onto holiness at her etiquette schools, and the lesson's hard to shake, so she cleans. She's not down on hands and knees scrubbing the floors or anything, but the place looks a little nicer, and she's proud of it.

Two: something Dani will care about a little more. She goes the extra mile--lights candles, gets flowers, is polite (if direct) with the restaurant worker on the phone who'll get something delivered to her door. The candles are warm, smoky scents that are a far cry from the crisp, clear ones Ainsley favors, but Dani had murmured stories about a campfire into her shoulder once, tracing her freckles, and Ainsley hopes she'll like that she remembered. The flowers aren't roses. Dani had a story about some ex who got her roses that Ainsley winced in sympathy at even as her sides hurt from laughing so hard. So she got orchids, as expensive as they are hard to keep happy. (It's a little on the nose, but Ainsley is her parents' daughter, and drama is the easier vice to indulge.)

The food is the part Dani will like the most, Ainsley's guessing. The thoughtful, almost-metaphorical gestures are Ainsley's thing, always unsure with how to give affection without giving too much away. Food, though, is an almost universal love language--Dani making pancakes in her kitchen, Ainsley buying her wines that cost more than Dani's rent. Plus, Dani likes Thai, and Ainsley hasn't had good tom yum in too long.

She gets this all ready by 10am, and finds herself bored by 10:03.

Ainsley would normally go bother Malcolm about a case, but Dani hasn't texted her anything interesting, so it's not worth the effort of dealing with his panic over this investigator guy. She does care about him, and she does worry, but just--God, he'd lied to her for ages. It's hardly like she's incompetent. She'd handled things just fine, hadn't she?

There's a bitter twist in her stomach, and she pauses, considers it for a second before choosing not to look at it too closely.

She goes to lunch with her mother, who talks around Ainsley and Dani as best she can while still prying for information. Ainsley ignores the more back-handed comment about her always wanting her brother's things and says, "We're having dinner tonight, actually."

"Oh, where are you going?" her mother says. "I can get you a reservation if you don't have one. There's that new French place on--"

"We're staying in," Ainsley interrupts, something she'd have gotten a ruler on the knuckles for if she'd tried it back in etiquette school. "Sorry."

"Oh," her mother says. "Well. We are quite different, aren't we?"

Ainsley shifts in her seat, immediately, uncomfortably aware that there's something hidden behind her words that she can't quite make out. "Not that different. You--" She cuts herself off, which is also rude, but she's pretty sure her mother would have slapped her if she'd finished saying you made compromises in your relationship, too. "You, uh, would have a home dinner if Gil asked."

Her mother finishes her drink without looking at Ainsley, cheeks a little pink. "Ainsley..."

"I'm just saying," Ainsley says, turning back to her food with a grin.

--

Working from home--the one thing the pandemic brought that Ainsley's happy to hold onto--is great, but she can't deny the little rush of productivity she gets from being in the office again, even if she's just waiting in a hard plastic chair to talk with a man she hates. He's got to listen to her about this private investigator thing, though; he always listens to her when it comes to crime stories.

She used to get pissed about it, she's more than her father's daughter, but...well. Hoxley's here to investigate a murder she did, so.

Not that she plans to include that in her pitch.

When he finally waves her in, thirty minutes after their meeting was supposed to start, she can feel her smile is a little brittle around the edges. He looks up at her through his glasses, which badly need to be cleaned, and says, "What've you got, Whitly?"

"There's a private investigator here in town," she says quickly. "According to my sources, he's here to figure out who killed Nicholas Endicott."

"Your sources," Carr says, looking at something on his laptop. Ainsley's fingers twitch. "Your brother or your girlfriend?"

"...my brother," she says, knowing better than to tell Carr that her sources are private, even if that's what every ethics in journalism conference tells them. Carr thinks he's above it all.

She wonders who he'd assign her story to, if it ever came out. Leslie doesn't do the crime beat. No one does the crime beat except for her. He'd probably take it himself, try and get a Pulitzer, squander the research completely, and make her look innocent. Hm. It would help in court.

It's not healthy that she's thinking this, she knows, but at least she can talk to her dad about it later.

"Endicott died ages ago, why now?"

"His head surfaced in a lake somewhere," Ainsley says.

"Find out where. You're good, take the camera crew."

Ainsley smiles at him. "Thank you, sir."

He waves her out rather than even do her the courtesy of addressing her.

Dick.

--

Reporting is invigorating, as it always is, and she gets to wave at her brother before the cameras turn on. He looks panicked when he spots her, but whatever, she's literally here to do her job. She goes into autopilot, reporting the facts as she knows them--Simon Hoxley is here, he's researching Endicott, and there's caution tape preventing her crew from getting closer to this boat. When the camera operator turns as if to film the boat, she quickly gestures them back, hands low enough that it shouldn't be broadcasted. Can't he spot the body there? They'll get sued.

Also, she wants to be on camera. It's not like she got her degree in journalism because she dislikes attention.

They're able to chat with Hoxley for just a second, and he looks at her with a polite disinterest that is simultaneously heartening and discouraging. Pros: he doesn't suspect her. Cons: she's not even worth suspecting, the fuck? He's already glaring at Malcolm. Malcolm's everyone's focus.

At least, everyone but Dani, and she shouldn't feel so much vindictive little pride in that. Dani smiles at her when she passes by, rushing after the chaos that is her squad on a case. Ainsley grabs her hand and squeezes it quickly while the cameraman's busy catching Gil passing by. Dani beams at her, and Ainsley's heart thuds a little heavy in her chest.

She drops her hand, switches back to reporter mode, and concludes her broadcast with something about Hoxley getting to the bottom of this, and be sure to tune in for updates on the case.

--

The day drags by after that, giving bland check-ins to the camera while getting bizarre text updates about it all from Malcolm. Dani doesn't text at work unless it's important, and Ainsley finds herself hoping nothing comes up so that their dinner isn't postponed. She just wants to spend some time with her--whatever Dani is.

They should probably work that out.

Carr just grumbles when she checks in with him at the end of the day to see if there's anything else she needs to do, so she takes it as she's free and heads home. The taxi driver makes small talk with her about her broadcasts, and while he doesn't seem to understand that she is not involved in actually solving the murders, it's the most someone other than Dani or her brother has talked with her about the day-to-day of what she does in months. She tips like $600, because who the hell cares, it's her mom's money anyway.

Then she rushes around the apartment getting the few things ready that she couldn't do in the morning--actually lighting the candles, setting the table, restraining herself from setting more than one of each utensil on the table, getting the food where it's left outside her apartment when her phone dings to let her know, remembering to tip the driver right away, and getting the food on the table.

God, she hopes Dani gets here soon. The food smells good and her lunch with her mother wasn't exactly filling. One thing Dani's taught her is how ridiculous rich people portions are. (Dani's words, not hers.)

It's not ten minutes later when Ainsley hears Dani's hand on the handle, and realizes shit, she forgot to light the candles. She scrambles to get at least the one on the table. She turns to grab the lighter and hears Dani say, "Uh."

She whirls around. "Hi."

"Hi," Dani says with a soft smile. "What's all this?"

"You treated me to breakfast, so," Ainsley says.

"You didn't have to do this," Dani says, looking at the Thai on the table, smile not dropping or dimming in the slightest.

"I know," Ainsley says. "I wanted to."

"You're sweet," Dani says, and walks over to pull her into a kiss. "Do you really only have these long lighters?"

"I don't smoke and I don't like the small ones, I'm always worried I'm gonna burn myself," Ainsley says, and Dani laughs and lights the candle on the table for her.

The dinner's perfect, and Ainsley gets to vent about Carr not caring about her reporting beyond profits at all and Dani gets to talk about how ridiculous Hoxley and her brother were acting all day and Ainsley gets to bite down a joke about thumbs that she couldn't explain. Dani sneaks some of Ainsley's food off her plate, Ainsley smacks her hand away, and Dani shakes her hand as if it hurts while failing to suppress a smile.

Normally, this is the part of the night where Ainsley would pull Dani into bed, or into the shower while Dani gripes about the jeans being new. But the night feels warm and soft and Ainsley just wants to hold her.

"You've got me completely messed up," Ainsley says, and when Dani looks up at her, a bit of sauce on her lips, she can see she doesn't understand what she means. "I mean, like." She huffs. "I never felt like this in any of my, uh."

"Relationships?" Dani suggests.

"Are we? In one, I mean," Ainsley says, tapping her foot against the floor, an anxious tic she's had as long as she can remember.

"I'd like to be," Dani says slowly, and Ainsley knows what that cautious expression means. She's pretty sure she has it, too. "Do you?"

"Yeah," Ainsley says, and Dani relaxes. "Also, you've got some sauce on your lips." She wipes it off absent-mindedly, and Dani leans across the table to kiss her. The angle's awkward, but Ainsley's smiling into the kiss too much to mind.

The rest of the night is just idle, easy conversation. Ainsley feels light, giddy. Dani's arm around her shoulders, Ainsley's hand in Dani's, the dim mood of the candlelight. It's all perfect.

Still, at the end of the night Ainsley can't quite sleep, even as Dani snoozes peacefully next to her. She's not sure why. Everything's perfect. Dani's here, Dani's officially her girlfriend, she's getting to do her report on Hoxley, her and Malcolm got away with it. Every piece of her life is fitting together just fine.

"Babe?" Dani says, and Ainsley turns. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Ainsley says grumpily. "I just can't sleep. Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

"It's fine," Dani says, already half-asleep again. "Sleep soon."

"I'll try," Ainsley whispers, staring at Dani. The easy acceptance, the give-and-take--it's new, but Ainsley loves it. She feels like she could tell her anything.

Oh. Dammit.

Seriously? she thinks to/at herself. You're upset we can't confess our murder? Fucking ridiculous. That's a normal thing to not tell someone. I mean, Dad--

Ainsley abruptly sits up, goes to take a shower. That's not--she can't think like that. There's unhealthy and there's self-sabotage, and that barrels over the line at lightspeed. Jesus.

Still, she turns back to look at Dani as she closes the bathroom door--slow, so as not to wake her again--and she can't help but think on it for far too long, staring at the tiles of her shower with a bitterness she wishes she could bite back.

She should text Malcolm. But he and Dani--that's still too fresh a wound. It's not like she can talk to her mom about it. And Dad...

The only reason she can think of not to is Dani would be disappointed. But that's enough.

Probably.

#my fics #renluthor #request #dansley #dani powell #ainsley whitly #prodigal son #daisy #fic: fresh as a daisy

[geraskierficrecs]

What about the hanahaki disease prompt it’s too good to ignore

Okay, Hanahaki stories are my guilty pleasure even though I’ve never written one.  I might flesh this out with a little more plot one day, but for now, enjoy these moments of anguish.

The first time his heart breaks, Jaskier is covered in blood and standing outside the rubble of a ruined castle.

He can hear Chiraedan’s shocked breath next to him, but it’s nothing compared to the exquisite agony of discovering Geralt is alive and choosing to ��celebrate’ that fact by fucking the very sorceress that had been tormenting Jaskier moments before.

It was his fault really.

Everyone on the Continent knew that Witchers never loved.  He had been content with he position at Geralt’s side if it meant he could occasionally relish in the flutter of his heart when the Witcher graced him with one of his rare smiles or dry jokes.  He could sing new songs of adventure and pretend he wasn’t already falling too deep into the gravity of Geralt’s affections.

Then he’d felt his throat rip and tear beneath the Djinn’s magic.  He’d felt what it was like to have Geralt’s arms wrap around him and watch the man above him focus all his energy on saving him.  How was he supposed to go back to pretending he wasn’t affected by the sound of Geralt murmuring his name?  He’d been so happy even while he thought he would die.  Now it felt like that happiness was the real curse behind the Djinn’s magic.

Inside, he hears Geralt make a soft sound of pleasure and he feels his chest ache.  His throat burns like his lungs are filled with razor--digging deeper with each breath.

He turns away from the window, telling himself he should just be glad that Geralt is safe and the Djinn’s magic is gone.  

He can forget the emotions that had only grown with each step taken in Geralt’s wake.  He could find some willing lass in the next village to drown his sorrow with.

Jaskier takes a deep breath and feels something rough catch in his throat.  Reflexively, he coughs, low and rough, in his hand.  After a moment, he glances down at his palm and feels himself go still in fear and shock.

There, curled beside a small splatter of blood, is a pale white petal.

__________________________________

The cough only got worse the longer he traveled with Geralt after he met Yennefer.

Eventually, Geralt began to notice the scent of blood that seemed to linger around Jaskier.  There were always excuses to be made--nicked himself shaving, tripped and fell, a fight with a jealous spouse--but even those weren’t enough to cover the way Jaskier was beginning to struggle to sing without pausing to breathe through the ache in his chest.  Or the larger pieces of flowers that he now brought up.

He knew it wouldn’t be long now.  

Jaskier looked to where Geralt was talking gently to Roach and down at the crushed peony in his hand.  

“Just a little longer,” he whispered down to the flower, like he could beg the disease to slow its relentless growth.  

Just a little longer.

__________________________________

“If life could give me one blessing--”

Jaskier can feel the burning agony in his chest digging deeper, as though the roots were burrowing into his very bones.  It is all he can do to keep himself upright as Geralt destroys him with every syllable.

“--it would be to rid me of you!”

He stares, blinking back tears and tries to catch his breath. 

 It’s becoming harder now.  Everything is harder now.  He’d hoped to enjoy this last adventure at Geralt’s side before he finally admitted that he wasn’t capable of traveling any longer.  He would make some excuse for the Witcher, of course.  Maybe pretend the Countess de Stael still wanted him.

Anything to avoid watching Geralt chase after Yennefer again.

The disease only grew worse each time he had to watch the mage appear with sly smiles and hidden agendas only to disappear with Geralt’s affections trailing in her wake.  He wanted to scream at her, to beg her to understand all that she had been given and so easily tossed away.  He wanted to paint some masterpiece of the look in Geralt’s eyes when he thought of her and show her the beauty she so easily overlooked.

But he wasn’t a painter, he was a bard.

He wasn’t even a friend to the Witcher he’d given his whole heart to.

If Jaskier wasn’t dying, he would have crafted a ballad describing this moment that would leave crowds in tears.  Somehow he doubted he would have time after Geralt finished destroying him without ever raising his sword.

“Alright,” Jaskier whispered, forcing his voice to remain even despite the cough itching at the back of his throat.  He’d had plenty of practice now, “I’ll just...get the story from the others.”

He had to grit his teeth to avoid coughing up the petals and stems and raw ache in his chest.  Even if Geralt hated him, he wouldn’t allow his death to weigh on the Witcher’s conscience.  He wouldn’t burden him with the misery of what loving Geralt had brought down on the bard.

Jaskier would give him the blessing he wished for.

The bard turned, stiff and awkward against the intense need to cough.  His breaths were shallow.  It felt as though his lungs were unable to hold oxygen any more.  Too full of the flowers that would adorn his corpse.

He walked.

There was no point in attempting to find the path they’d used before.  He only let the pull of gravity and the downward slope do the work for him.  

But the story is this, she’ll destroy with her sweet kiss 

Once he was out of earshot, he coughed until his vision danced with spots and his stomach heaved with the need to eject the curse growing within him.  Jaskier left the small pile of leaves and petals beside the path.  There was no point in burying them like he had the others.  Maybe it would even help bring someone to where ever his body finally collapsed.

His vision wavered with the next wave of coughing and he stumbled hard enough that his knees hit the ground hard enough to make him whimper.  He spat a clump of peony petals dyed red with his blood and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth.  Each breath felt like a struggle and a dark part of him wanted to laugh at the idea of the very thing that made him famous being what killed him.

Stubbornly, Jaskier forced himself to his feet and continued down the mountain.  Any hope of reaching a village before he collapsed for good seemed to disappear with each step.  His strength was fading fast. The shadows created by the sunset made the forest seem dark and forbidding in a way that never happened when Geralt was by his side.

He couldn’t help but think it was absurd to die from loving the wrong person instead of at the hand of all the monsters he’d seen in his lip.

Jaskier’s foot hit a root and he fell hard, hitting his side hard enough to expel what little air he’d managed to drag in.  He coughed.  Spat out more flowers--larger now that he was close to the end.  He rolled onto his back and stared up at the bright red sky, blinking away the tears that ran down his cheeks.

A red sky at dawn is giving you warning, you fool

He wanted to laugh at the irony of the lyric that was meant to convince Geralt to realize who truly loved him.  And Geralt had never given it a second thought.

Just as he’d never thought of Jaskier as more than an annoyance.

There was nothing left for him but to wait for his foolish heart to finish this.  He coughed again, curling on his side to try to ease some of the pressure.  The temperature was beginning to drop with the loss of the sunlight and he shivered miserably.  He scrubbed at his face roughly before another long series of coughs left him gasping and aching.

He could feel the wet mixture of dirt, blood, and flower petals against his cheek, but couldn’t summon the strength to move just yet.  A tear dripped off one of his lashes and he huddled more tightly to try to conserve his heat.  Not that it mattered.  He wouldn’t make it to the morning.

His thoughts went slow and sluggish, smothering without the oxygen he needed to survive.  He blinked, fighting to drag his eyes open again.

i love you.

The words he’d never been able to say felt like poison, but he could help but whisper them into the night.

“I love you, Geralt.”

Jaskier coughed, fighting through a wave of dizziness and panic when he couldn’t catch his breath.  He pressed his cheek against the cold earth and tried not to cry.

“...love...you..”

There was a sound nearby--a snap of a branch--and Jaskier tried not to sigh.  It was just his luck that he would be eaten by some beast before the disease took him.  He hoped for it to be quick, at least.  Perhaps a siren to sing him into the dark...

“--kier.”

The voice was familiar even through the thick cloud of agony filling his mind.  He turned toward it, too weak to do anything else.

“Jaskier!”

Strong hands wrapped around his arms and lifted him into a sitting position, leaning his head against a strong chest.  He didn’t need to smell the familiar scent of leather and blood to know it was Geralt.  

Smiling up at the phantom, Jaskier’s eyes fluttered weakly in an attempt to see Geralt’s face one last time.  Whatever creature or doppler that had chosen this form had chosen well...he would never fight against Geralt.  No matter what it cost him.

“What happened?” 

The creature’s voice was nearly perfect, Jaskier thought weakly.  It would have been foolproof were it not for the way Geralt’s hands were shaking and the thundering heartbeat in his ear.  The Witcher would never allow himself to react so much.

Jaskier cough, turning away in an attempt to hide the damage.  His throat closed around something thin and his fingers scrabbled weakly at his mouth to pull it free.  It made him gag and heave, but eventually he dropped a fully formed pink peony and its stem onto the ground beside him.  He closed his eyes, strength fading.

“You...you’re sick,” Geralt said.

Jaskier gave him a weak smile.  “I’m dying.”

His voice was a raw husk of what it once was.  Weak and wanting even at the end.

Geralt’s arms tightened around him and abruptly he was being lifted.  The sound of pounding footsteps felt far away now.  He leaned closer against Geralt until the Witcher was all he could see.

“Stay with me Jaskier.”

Jaskier smiled, mentally thanking whatever creature or hallucination had created this fantasy.  

It made it easier to slip away into the dark.

___________________________

The world shook against him and he sucked in a ragged gulp of air.  Tasted the blood and misery on his lips.

“Tell me who it is!” Gold eyes snapped fire at him from the darkness in his vision.  Jaskier swayed like a tree in the wind, trying to focus.  “Jaskier!  Tell me who it is!  I’ll find them!”

“too..late, ’m afraid,” Jaskier rasped and felt blood drip from his lips.

He fought to keep his eyes open and focused on Geralt.  There were monsters lurking here, hidden in the shadows.  Waiting for him to collapse.  Laughing at the stupid bard who’d always aimed for impossible targets.

“No! I’ll bring whoever it is to you and you’ll get better.  You have to get better!”

His head slumped forward, but calloused fingers cradled his cheeks.  Jaskier’s eyes opened through sheer force of will and he summoned a weak smile for the ghost in front of him.

“It was,” he swallowed another mouthful of petals, “always you, my love.”

There was a roaring in his ears that matched the thunder of his heart.  Geralt’s mouth moved to shape words, but Jaskier was far past hearing.  He let himself go limp, relieved of the burden of his feelings at last.

____________________________

Waking up again was a surprise.

His whole body felt like it was bruised and battered beyond recognition.  Each breath irritated the rough skin at the back of his throat and he groaned.

Instantly someone was there to help lift his head and press a cup of cool water to his lips.  He drank greedily, feeling like his stomach was empty for the first time in ages.  The water was better than anything he’d tasted and he made a noise of protest when it was pulled away.

“You’ll get sick if you drink too much,” a voice rumbled.

Jaskier’s eyes opened in surprise and he turned to find Geralt sitting next to him.  He blinked, trying to banish the hallucination for the sake of his sanity.

“I’m dead,” he said flatly.  It was the only explanation for the Witcher sitting here beside him.  Not after what he’d said.

Geralt’s lips pursed into a scowl.  “Not quite, but you came close.”

“Ah,” Jaskier tried for levity despite the way he wanted to crawl away and hide himself from Geralt’s too-knowing gaze, “that explains why you’re here.  Saving me again.”

The Witcher remained silent, his thoughts hidden behind his stoic expression.

He tried not wince at the pain that lanced through him at the thought of what Geralt had witnessed.  Jaskier looked away, shifting to lay back down until he could gather the strength to sit up on his own.  Feeling Geralt’s hands on him was too much after all that had happened.

“Must have been good luck to find a healer so quickly,” he rambled to fill the tense silence between them, “Thank you for that.  You, uh...you won’t need to wait any longer for me.  I’ll just be on my way as soon as--”

“Did you mean it?”

Jaskier’s head snapped up at the sudden question.  Geralt was looking at him oddly, something unreadable in his expression.

The bard licked his lips, eyes darting around the simple rom before flitting back to the Witcher.  “Mean what?” he tried weakly.

“Did you mean what you said?  About why you were sick?” Geralt pressed.

Jaskier’s eyes fell closed against the cold wash of fear that raced down his spine.  This was it.  The moment he had tried so hard to avoid with all his lies and fake smiles.  The moment when Geralt saw his feelings for what they were and sent him on his way.  Whatever reprieve he��d gained in the brief relief of seeing Geralt again would disappear just as quickly now.  He could already feel the tingle at the back of his throat.

He felt curiously calm as he gathered the shreds of his courage and spoke.

“Yes.”

“You’re in love with me.”

His heart thundered in his ears, but Jaskier forced himself to nod.

“How long?” Geralt rasped.

A wry twist of his lips. “Since the djinn.”

The Witcher stood with a burst of barely restrained energy.  He paced away from Jaskier’s sick bed and raked his fingers through his hair until it was freed from its tie.  When he looked back at Jaskier, he looked almost feral.

“I--I didn’t-”

“Know?” Jaskier let out a ragged laugh, “Of course you didn’t.  I knew you didn’t feel the same.”

“You would have died without telling me?”

The bard’s mouth went flat.  “I’m a very selfish man, Geralt, but even I wouldn’t risk you feeling guilty for what was going to happen--not when you were in love with someone else.  It was my choice.”

“Are you still in love with me?” Geralt asked softly.

He huffed out a mirthless laugh.  “I never stopped.”

There was a soft click as the door shut and Jaskier felt his strength wane beneath the crushing agony of reality.  This was the end he had been dreading since he’d first recognized the symptoms.  Geralt was gone and all there was left to hope for was the death he’d already tested.  He closed his eyes again, biting back a sob through gritted teeth.

Then there were arms closing around him and pressing him against a chest still stiff with the armor he hadn’t bothered to remove.  

Jaskier froze in shock, too bewildered to do more than make a soft sound of surprise.  Soft lips pressed against his forehead and he felt Geralt heave out a long, slow breath.

“Idiot,” he whispered.

The bard blinked, still confused.  “I’m sure you’re right, but why...?”

“I’m sorry for what I said.”

“Oh...” Jaskier whispered and nodded, “It’s okay.  You were upset.”

“I should never have said that,” Geralt said, his arms tightening around Jaskier, “I regretted it as soon as I realized you were gone.  And then I found the blood...”

Jaskier winced at the reminder of what had happened on the mountain.  He was sure his path down the hill was easy to follow even without Witcher training.  He’d stopped to cough small piles of flowers and leaves several time and stumbled his way through the underbrush without any concern for the trail he was leaving behind him.

“Well, I appreciate you saving me and finding a healer,” he said quickly, leaning back to press a hand to his chest and relish being able to breathe without pain.  He was sure it wouldn’t last long. “I expect you need to leave soon.”

“I didn’t find a healer.”

Jaskier froze, frowning at Geralt in confusion.  “What? But I...”

The Witcher met his eyes.  “I didn’t need a healer to fix what I broke.”

Then he leaned forward and pressed his lips to Jaskier’s.

Thanks for the prompt!  Sorry it took so long to fill--this was quite a bit longer than I expected, but I hope you liked it!

[angstyaches]

Song and Dance

Wow, this is the first emeto fic I’ve posted in a while. Please enjoy, and stand by for the next fic to see what’s going on with Charlie and Shayne.

CW: emeto, nausea, anxiety, conflict, blood 

Swallow the World: The Ouija Board, Pt. 5

“I’m sorry, darling,” Felix said as he finally found his voice.

Elliott steered with one hand on top of the wheel, the other scrubbing absently at the stubble on his chin. His eyes were obscured with his sunglasses, since the sunset was almost directly ahead of them, and his gaze didn’t move from the road. He was clenching his lips down, but Felix could tell he was hiding lengthened fans under there. He never could seem to control them when he was worked up. 

We could have played it off as a coincidence, even with Shayne there to recognise me, Elliott had growled when they were still at the park, though Felix had known if he wasn’t worried about the others overhearing, he would have been yelling. Felix had been too tense to say anything back there, his stomach sitting high in his throat as Elliott had scolded him.

I can’t believe you cracked so easily and told her. Everything’s got to be a big song-and-dance with you, doesn’t it? Another episode of the Felix show.

“Elli,” Felix whispered in the passenger seat now. He put a shaky hand on his boyfriend’s thigh, which he often did when they were driving on long, straight roads. “I said I’m –”

Elliott batted the hand away, and Felix sank back miserably in his seat. It felt horrible, not knowing if Elliott was even going to attempt to forgive him for running his mouth. It just felt wrong to let the sweet, oblivious Rin believe it was all a coincidence that she’d found a seller with a certified Ouija board so easily, when really the Aldridges had sought her out with it.

“If there’s trouble with Nancy and Ryan, I’ll make sure they know this was all my fault.”

“That’s not the point, Felix.”

Felix’s belly clenched at hearing Elliott use his full name. “What else is there?”

Elliott face tilted up towards the rear-view mirror, but Felix knew he wasn’t checking the road. He was checking on the three passengers in the back seat. The pretty, red-haired Rin and the blonde boy with the possession scar had been taking turns letting Shayne rest his head on their shoulders or laps. Felix had also noticed the two boys holding hands every time he’d looked back there.

“We’ll talk about it later,” Elliott said.

Felix bit his lip. He didn’t know if he could last until later. How much longer could he realistically sit here with this guilt? It felt like a physical thing, pressing on his lower windpipe, making his eyes sting and his heart race. After suffering from indigestion and feeling vaguely queasy all day, his stomach was extremely upset, worsening now that he started pay attention to it. Waves of nausea crawled up his chest, gurgling in the back of his throat and threatening to wrench open his jaw.

On any other occasion, Felix would have started kicking up a fuss straight away, begging Elliott to pull over as quickly as he could, shoving the door open before the car had even come to a complete stop. But the tension in his windpipe was keeping him quiet, keeping him low in his seat.

“Darling,” he said. “I feel sick.”

After a few seconds, he realised Elliott must not have heard him, because he didn’t hear the indicator being flicked, didn’t feel the car being directed off the road.

“Elli, I’m going to throw up,” Felix said, his voice only slightly louder than last time. He glanced up to see that Elliott had turned his head to look at him, but had already gone back to focusing on the road. His hand didn’t move towards the indicator.

Felix sank a little further forward in his seat, rubbing his belly gently in the hopes of settling it. He swallowed against a burp, not wanting to annoy his boyfriend any further, or alarm any of their guests in the back of the car.

Another episode of the Felix show –

He sat forward a little, resting his head against his hands, hoping it would centre him, but his head was spinning. What else had he done, exactly, to make Elliott this angry? Would his frail nerves and even frailer stomach really hold out long enough for him to get Elliott alone, to get him to explain his failure to him, to tell him how he could fix it?

Everything’s got to be a big song-and-dance with you, doesn’t it?

Felix’s belly tightened painfully as Elliott took a wide bend a little too fast, making him gag. If he was, indeed, a ridiculous drama queen who over-reacted, then this was his boy-who-cried-wolf moment, for sure.

He tucked his head even lower, chin towards his chest, as part of his sketchy roadside lunch came up with a gurgle. It crashed into his lap and stuck thickly on pale blue denim, run through with streaks of red from his lollipops. He cringed at the sight of it all soaking into his favourite skinny jeans, but it was better there than on the floor of Elliott’s car.

A tearless sob rattled him as he lifted his face to ask Elliott if he wouldn’t mind pulling over now, but before he could, he saw Elliott’s fingers flick the indicator on, heard the soft clicking of the light.

Felix held a hand over his mouth, waiting for Elliott to finish braking before undoing his seatbelt and opening the door. He closed it fully before walking five or six paces past the back of the car, tears blurring his vision, retching with his mouth wide open. He heaved several times onto the side of the road, spattering the tarmac with blood and Diet Coke and questionable sushi until his insides stopped shuddering. In the back of his mind, he miserably wondered if Elliott was going to come and check on him; he also wondered how he was going to clean his jeans off before getting back in the car.

When he heard a door open and close behind him, his heart lifted slightly, but he could instantly tell it wasn’t Elliott by the footfalls. Elliott’s were so distinct to him now, as distinct as his voice or his sonic call. His second preference would have been Rin, since she’d been so nice to him earlier.

He looked over his shoulder and saw the blonde boy, whose name Felix hadn’t exactly caught, lingering by the side of the car. Felix felt like he should say something, like sorry for making the car stop while they were trying to get their friend home.

Instead, he jumped in surprise as the blonde boy grabbed his own head with both hands and leaned forward. He retched loudly, and although nothing came out of his mouth, Felix could tell that that whatever was happening was painful.

“Oh, gosh, are you okay?” Felix choked out.

The boy nodded wordlessly, gave another dry retch, and extended one hand towards Felix. He was holding out a packet of tissues, and he flapped it a little impatiently, indicating for Felix to take it.

“Oh! Thank you,” Felix said as warmly as he could with his throat tied in a knot. He stepped a little closer to take the tissues. “That’s really nice – gosh, I don’t even know your name.”

“It’s –” The boy pressed the back of his hand to his mouth, frowning slightly. “It’s Charlie.”

“Hi, Charlie,” Felix said. He pulled out a tissue and started trying to mop the sick off his jeans. “Sorry if the puke is making you feel sick too. If you see any blood; I swear it came from a donor.”

“That’s good to know, actually, but it’s not that.” Charlie gave a weak laugh, running a hand across the side of his head. “I think I just needed some air.”

Felix scrubbed a tissue down one thigh. “Does – does he even care that I’m throwing up?”

“Oh, um… Elliott?” Charlie glanced back towards the car. “He sort of screamed into his hands and put his head on the steering wheel when you got out.”

Felix’s belly clenched again, and he took a break from cleaning his jeans to focus on not bursting into tears. Elliott had a lot of moods, but when he got in a mood where he simply did not want to deal with Felix, that was when Felix got scared. Elliott had been putting up with him for so long; was he finally fed up, ready to reject him?

He scrubbed at his jeans again, whimpering in distress, wondering what the hell he was supposed to do.

“I think you’ve done all you can here.”

Felix looked up at Charlie, wondering if he’d been reading his mind. “What?”

“Your poor Tommy Hilfiger’s.” Charlie grimaced, pointing towards Felix’s jeans. The scrubbing seemed to have gotten to the stage where everything that was going to come off had come off; the rest was already soaked into the pale denim.

“I’m afraid you might be right,” Felix said.

“I’ll get you something to change into when we get to my house,” Charlie offered. “We’re about the same size, though you might have to roll up the ends.”

Felix blinked in surprise, pulling out a fresh tissue to wipe his face down with. “Why are you being so nice? You might be in a lot of danger because of me.”

“Maybe.” Charlie’s face was a little sickly-looking. His smile seemed to be wound so tight, Felix thought it would snap right off. “But right now, all I care about is getting Shayne home, and I’m don’t think giving us a lift back was Elliott’s idea.”

Felix shook his head. Elliott had been very, very against it, in fact. Convincing him to do it anyway was probably one of the reasons he was so mad.

“Thank you, Felix,” Charlie said. “How do you feel? Your face is getting some colour back.”

Felix touched his cheeks self-consciously. He wasn’t exactly excited about getting back in the car with Elliott, but he’d already delayed their journey enough already. He wished he could work up the nerve to ask Charlie to swap seats with him, but he reckoned Charlie would want to stay near Shayne. Plus, Felix wouldn’t have felt right, forcing someone else to deal with Elliott in his current mood, especially when it was his fault.

He kept himself low as he got back into the passenger seat. As Charlie climbed into the back, Shayne peeled himself away from Rin and reached for him. Elliott’s knuckles had turned white on the steering wheel.

Felix jumped as he felt a soft tap on his shoulder. He twisted around to see Rin holding out a little packet of mints. She smiled and shook a couple of the tiny white sweets as Felix lifted his palm.

“Thank you, Rin,” he whispered, blushing when she winked at him and sat back in her seat.

“Everyone good?” Elliott asked flatly, staring through the windscreen. This prompted a muted round of affirmative grunts and nods. Those were the last sounds before the last quiet twenty minutes of the journey, at least until Charlie sat forward to politely give Elliott directions to his house.

 ---

“Are you okay?”

Felix flinched. Charlie and Rin had gotten Shayne from the car to the front door with combined effort, and Charlie had told them to wait while he got Felix a change of clothes.

“Yep,” Felix said, staring at the dashboard. He rubbed at his neck and stared twirling his hair as he felt the weight of Elliott’s gaze on him. His heart jumped when he felt Elliott’s hand rest against his tummy. He sensed his boyfriend leaning over the gap between the seats, and he was fairly sure he knew what was coming.

“W-wait,” Felix mumbled, feeling his face flush. Elliott tugged on his chin, making him look up. “Darling, my mouth probably still tastes like –”

Felix’s eyes fell shut as Elliott’s lips brushed against his, pulling back with a soft pop.

“Just tastes like mint,” Elliott said.

Felix opened his eyes, the residual nausea in his belly melting into something soft and fluttery as he saw the worried look in Elliott’s eyes.

“Usually when you’re feeling sick you pretty much leap out of your seat. What happened?”

“You were so angry.” Felix swallowed. “I was trying to behave more like – more like someone –”

“Normal?” Elliott rubbed playfully at Felix’s belly. “I don’t want normal, Fee. I want you.”

Felix broke into a shy grin, turning his head to burp quietly as the gentle pressure on his stomach stirred it up.

“I thought we were on the same wavelength earlier, and then you went off-script,” Elliott said steadily, using his free hand to smooth some hair behind Felix’s ear. “It felt like a betrayal, and that’s why I was angry.”

“Elli, I’m sorry, I –”

“Buuut,” Elliott said, softly tracing his fingers across Felix’s stomach. “Now, I’m glad you weren’t on that wavelength with me. Because you did the right thing, Fee, like always. It’s stuff like that that made me fall in love with you.”

Felix smiled, squeezing Elliott’s leg. “You still want to keep me?”

Elliott’s gaze was intense and serious as he nodded. “I’m sorry if I made you doubt that for a second. ”

#felix #elliott #elliott and felix #my ocs #swallow the world #nausea #emeto #tw emeto #carsick #anxious sick #angst #charlie