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vroomvroomcircuit · 1 month

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You pulling in made me wish your Dad pulled out

(A/N): Thank you to @foreveralbon for workshopping this fic with me with this prompt. I don't know what to do if you weren't my muse.

Summary: Charles pissed off his neighbor with his parking. Her answers are notes taped to his car window. How can evolve more out of that?

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x female!reader

Wordcount: 1.6k

🏎Masterlist🏎 ________________________

(Y/N) knows that she isn’t the most professional car parker. She should never start a career as a valet for sure. After all, she needed a second attempt on her own practical test to attain her drivers license.

But there is this one neighbor of hers. She doesn’t know what he looks like, what his name is or where he even lives. But (Y/N) knows one thing for sure: He is a shit parker.

Like, he is the worst person at parking that has ever walked the world. If he could, he probably would park his oh so expensive car onto other cars. But she tries to not let that get too close to her. After all, we just talk about parking spaces and it’s not worth getting her blood pressure up over it.

But (Y/N) found her tipping point.

Her whole morning has been a shit show. Her alarm went off, but she accidentally turned it off instead of giving herself another five minutes of sleep. Five minutes turned into 45. That meant the young woman had to rush through her usual morning routine and she is 90 % sure that she put at least one clothing item on the wrong way.

But it’s ok, she is still on time. She just needs to get out of the car par-

This is where (Y/N) last thread of patience with that neighbor snaps in two like a potato chip, crisp and unclean. This person parked the front half of his car in a way that completely blocks (Y/N)’s rear end from exiting the car in a way that does not hinder the sidewalk.

It takes a solid seven minutes to get out of her spot, trying not to scratch hers or another car. Arriving a few minutes late at work because of that and receiving a reprimand from her boss is really the young woman’s last straw. On her lunch break she does some snooping on the internet and comes across a really fine find. It’s worth the price and shipping cost to her.

Actually, she can’t wait for the week it is supposed to take to arrive at her doorstep.

But the time between that particular day and the day of arrival do fly by when you use it getting madder and madder at the dickhead that is unable to park like a normal person.

The next occurrence doesn’t take long after (Y/N)’s package finally arrives. She wanted to park her vehicle in her usual spot when Mr. Ferrari already took his and her own too. How can one person be such an asshole?

(Y/N) takes one of the business card sized cuts out of her glove box and puts it in the slit of the black car’s window. Satisfied with her work she steps back into her vehicle and looks for a different spot, ending up walking several minutes back to her apartment building, having to look somewhere farther away.

Charles can see from a distance that there is a card at his car’s windowshield. Which makes him suspicious. Surely no one thinks that he wants to sell his car for cheap, so it can’t be one of those car handler’s business cards. Maybe it’s a new ruse of thieves, trying to get him to stand long enough at his car to read it and be able to steal his car. Or they are kidnappers. Anyways, he makes quick work of putting the card into his pocket and drives off at a neck breaking speed.

When he arrives at his destination, the Monegasque pulls the piece of paper out and reads it. “The way you pulled in makes me wish your dad pulled out”, he reads aloud, laughing a little to himself.

He has to admit that he might not be the best at parking. Who is he even kidding, he would win the world championship at being the worst car parker possible. But the thought of someone getting that angered over his non-existent skills.

It’s something that makes him happy throughout his entire day. Which is his main reason to try and look how much he can piss that particular neighbor off even more.

So Charles starts parking even worse. If he also starts on the habit of watching out of his window more often now, he would claim it is just a coincidence. But something in him wants to meet that neighbor.

That person that gets more and more creative with their insults. One time they called him an obstacle to evolution. The other day the business card said something along the lines of him belonging to the asshole club now.

Another, a handwritten, note asked him not to reproduce. The neighbor even left a condom for him. This made Charles laugh so loudly, that (Y/N) looked out her opened window.

She just finished one of the worst shifts she ever had since starting that job and all she wants is just a quiet evening to come down from the stress. Just the noise of the laugh is enough to set her off again.

Seeing her handsome neighbor from under her apartment pocketing the note and condom she left just minutes earlier isn’t what she expected. Watching him opening the car, sitting down and driving off is even less on her list.

It kind of destroys her world view, realizing that hot neighbor and asshole parker are the same person. In the last couple of weeks (Y/N) started to get some fun out of the mean comments she left at the black Ferrari’s window. This also could be her chance to finally make a move on him.

The young woman waits for the brunette to return with his car and stays seated on her couch for another couple minutes, for extra measure of course. After that, she leaves the apartment building with her prepared note and tapes it to the car’s rear window.

Charles on the other side stays glued to his window as soon as he enters his apartment. He finally wants to catch the person that gets angrier and angrier each time he parks in an outrageous way in the act.

Seeing the beautiful neighbor, who lives above him, sticking another note to his car makes his heart flutter in an unexpected way. For some time now he wanted to get to know her and if everything went according to his original plan, ask her out on a date. But maybe he can now use this to his advantage.

As soon as the beautiful neighbor is back in the building Charles waits an extra couple minutes before he once again makes his way to his car.

Running over his vehicle with a pep in his step, Charles is kind of excited about what insults or threats await him now. He has to admit, he actually parked pretty decently. Or as decent as he is able to. So the note has to be at least a little bit nicer than the previous ones.

“Hey neighbor. I thought instead of shitting on you and your parking skills even more, I want you to help and get better. I may not be a driving teacher, but helping you wouldn’t make your skills worse. Just text me with the times you are available at ;)” signed with (Y/N)’s name and number.

It’s kind of funny to explain to the press later how Charles met (Y/N) and became her boyfriend.

"Yeah, well I know that my driving has become sort of a, a meme,” he answers when asked a week after his announcement on instagram, “And my neighbor wasn’t too fond of it either. So she started to leave me these really funny, but also really aggressive notes at my car. One said something like I won the inconsiderate Parker Price. Which made me quite proud.” This entices a laugh out of the journalist. “Yeah, (Y/N) has a really good way with words, I fear. But in the end she offered me some parking lessons.” Charles smiles and thinks back to them.

He had texted (Y/N) immediately and they set up a date for the lesson two days away. But they still continued to text non stop and by the time they met up, it felt like they had been friends for years.

Which didn’t stop (Y/N) raging at Charles after his fifth failed attempt of parking his car according to her instructions. “I don’t believe you anymore. With the way you park you are not from Monaco but the deepest and wildest parts of Italy! Your Ferrari seems really fitting now!” This drew a laugh out of him until she graced him with the meanest look he didn’t expect her to be able to muster up.

“How about dinner as a thank you and apology?” He asked sheepishly, trying both to diffuse the situation and make his move. Why not shoot his shot right now?

Luckily the young woman agreed.

“In the end my parking skills weren’t enough to win her over, but my charm was what scored me a second date.”

And a third. A relationship. After some more funny parking jokes and him kneeling down on one knee with a ring and the promise to take lessons to keep their future family safe he even scored himself his unexpected forever.

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fanfic #x reader #reader insert #charles leclerc x female!reader #x female!reader

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booksandabeer · 24 days

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Celebrating 10 Years of CA:TWS — A Stucky Rec List

Rec list for the CA:TWS 10th Anniversary Event @catws-anniversary (thank you so much for organizing this event! 💙) | Prompt: Memories

10 years, huh? 10 years of Captain America: The Winter Soldier. 10 years of what many—myself included—still consider to be the best MCU movie ever made.

But also 10 years of post-TWS fanfiction. 10 years of Bucky Barnes Recovering and Steve Rogers' Sadness Errands; of Up All Night to Get Bucky and Revenge Road Trips; of Winter Soldier Trauma Umbrellas and Everybody Needing A Goddamn Hug; of Good Bros and Soft Epilogues. 10 years and tens of thousands of Steve/Bucky fics later, here we are.

So, to mark the occasion, let's take a trip down memory lane and celebrate the movie and the stories it inspired: One fic from each year since it all began:

There's really only one rule here: All fics are set before, during, or after the events of CA:TWS and/or reimagine its plot in interesting ways. Naturally, many of the fics on this list are post-TWS canon divergent, but I tried to go for a nice variety of length, genre, and popularity to keep it interesting. Speaking of popularity, this is very much not intended as a round-up of ‘most popular fics of each year’ because—and I say this with all the love and respect in my heart for those stories and their authors—nobody needs a rec list for that, and I believe in spreading the love. Here we go:

Poltergeists by enemyofrome | 17K, T

Author's summary: When the helicarriers blow up and the Winter Soldier goes on the run, he takes Steve with him. He's got a name written in Morse code on the inside of his arm, a ton of questions he doesn't know how to ask, and now, a new handler with absolutely zero sense of self-preservation to contend with. Life is hard. In which Bucky tries to figure out whether he's a human being, Steve does everything he can to keep from losing him again, and there are lots of explosions.

Starting off with one of the best versions of the 'Bucky didn't leave Steve, he took him with him after the Potomac' fics that were (and still are!) so popular post-TWS. This one stands out because of its fantastic beginning, its interesting take on how Bucky was broken and remade into the Winter Soldier, and because it allows both characters to be messy. It's a popular fanon trope that it's Steve who brings out a ruthless, almost vicious streak in Bucky, but here it's emphasized that this is very much a mutual thing. Just like Bucky, who's often afforded the "excuse" of still figuring out how to be a person again, Steve gets to be difficult here—without ever turning him into a stubborn asshole. They're both traumatized, and they're both allowed to show it and to lash out, including at each other. Also, this fic will give you capital-F Feelings about morse codes and apples. Believe me.

sleepwalk back to the battle site by ftmsteverogers | 22K, T

Author's summary: “I’m going to track down every HYDRA agent that’s left,” Bucky says, buckling his gun deftly to his belt. “And then I’m going to kill them.” “Oh,” Steve says. “Come with me?” Bucky asks, dangerous hands tucked into his pockets.

A classic post-TWS fic that picks up right after the movie ends. Equal parts Revenge Roadtrip, Bucky Barnes recovering, and Steve Rogers being in urgent need of a good hug. This starts out intensely melancholic—Steve's despair and helplessness are palpable and there's a scene involving a drinking glass that still brings tears to my eyes just thinking about it. Halfway through, the story changes pace and becomes much more action-heavy, but it still manages to allow space for the quiet, intimate moments between Steve and Bucky. They have both become sharp and deadly men, but they're also allowed to be soft with each other. Their coming together feels sweet and inevitable. I also really enjoyed the Steve characterization here. His absolute conviction that Bucky is still Bucky at his very core and always will be, but also his emotional and intellectual flexibility to adapt to this still-new-to-him, changed version of Bucky rang very true to me.

Surveillance by Sproings, 7K in 2 parts, G

Author's summary: If there are ears everywhere, that means it's somebody's job to listen. I hate my job.

Do you ever think about how SHIELD bugged Steves DC apartment and how horrible that was, but also...you're kind of curious what they might have overheard? Do you ever wonder about the people who listened in on his sad, lonely life? Well, here you go. An outsider POV fic told "through the ears" of an unnamed SHIELD agent assigned to spy on the private life of a man who doesn't really have much of one. The story begins just before IM3 and takes us all the way through the events of CA:TWS and beyond. It's clever, original and told with great empathy for both the subject under surveillance and the person carrying out that surveillance—who increasingly questions its purpose. Here's a small snippet to give you an idea of the fic's style:

He got a phone call, once. He put it on speaker, too, which was very exciting for me at the time. It was from an archivist at the Smithsonian. They seemed really surprised that he answered his own phone calls. The two of them talked for a long time about an exhibit the museum was planning. A very long time. As if one of them was starstruck, and the other was desperate for any kind of human interaction.

What Gets You Through by velleities | 12K, M

Author's summary: For Steve, getting through each day is a process – one he’s currently failing at spectacularly. Feeling out of place in this brave new world, he hopes to find a home in Bucky, and looks for him with everything he’s got. But Bucky doesn’t want to be found, and when he does touch base with Steve, he never sticks around for long. Bucky has embraced the modern age, leaving Steve lagging behind – or so Steve believes, until Bucky shows him otherwise.

This post-TWS fic revolves around five encounters in liminal spaces, and each time Bucky has pieced himself back together again just a little more. Despite their increasingly longer and more honest conversations, and Bucky's incremental progress, he always disappears again, leaving Steve to grapple with his heartbreak. There are quietly gorgeous moments in this fic (the bus and the church in particular were my personal favorites) as well as wonderfully crafted characterizations. Bucky is initially portrayed as somewhat feral in some ways yet surprisingly well-adjusted in others, and I love that Steve can't help but be a little annoyed at that. However, it quickly becomes clear that, in good old Bucky Barnes fashion, much of it is really just a front put up for Steve's benefit...

A Real Boy by itsnotbleak | 5K, T

Author's summary: It took the Winter Soldier three weeks to remember that human beings needed to sleep and eat. It took Steve far too long to realise the Winter Soldier was sleeping in his bed.

A wonderful, short-but-doesn't-feel-like-it fic (in the very best way) set immediately after CA:TWS, in which Bucky secretly and then soon not so secretly visits Steve in his apartment. Follow along as Bucky Barnes argues with his brain about sandwich toppings, the importance of a good night's sleep, and the necessity of personal hygiene. Also: how to best go about becoming a real boy (again). And who the hell is that Bucky guy anway? This is as soft and sweet a Bucky recovery fic as you're ever going to find. It's funny but not silly; sad in a way that all of these stories inherently are—because, well, these are some tragic boys—but not super angsty or depressing. A beautiful story with a lovely, hopeful ending.

Savage God by PottersPink | 36K, M

Author's summary (abbr.): Past, present, future, Steve knows Bucky Barnes. It’s why he recognized him when he found him in that alley in April of 1942, even though Bucky was older, stronger, wearier; he called himself The Asset, and had a metal fucking arm. He flinched when Steve tried to touch him, and when Steve told him he loved him, his first response was to ask why. Seventy years later, Steve wakes up in the twenty-first century, and he doesn’t know whether to be heartbroken or hopeful when some of the things Bucky revealed to him in 1942 start falling into place.

An absolutely riveting AU that will have you on the edge of your seat the whole time. I'm itching to talk about it more but I cannot since it would mean spoiling the hell out of it. What I can say is that it's a very intriguing and clever exploration of what would happen if Steve knew about the future but without really knowing any of the details. How would it change the events of CA:TFA and CA:TWS, and how would it change Steve himself? I so very much appreciate this characterization of Steve as smart, competent, and unwavering with a hefty dose of no fucks left to give. This fic features some really nifty time travel and plotting, great action sequences and a very satisfying ending where certain people get their much-deserved comeuppance. Plus: Bonus Shrinkyclinks (kind of)!

Charlie Lock by seapigeon | 105K, M (hard M)

Author's summary (abbr.): The Winter Soldier knows that sometimes, in order to make the kill, you must destroy what the Target lives for. Steve Rogers knows that he can't fight his captors. If he fights, they'll kill Bucky. But the price of his life is steep. Tony Stark has nothing left to live for, but he's needed. So all these miserable motherfuckers better stay alive, too. Clint Barton never expected to be a leader. But a leader he is, and no one else is going to die on his watch. --- A story in which the first wave of Project Insight succeeds, and the Avengers must pick up the pieces and find a way to stop Hydra from completing its work with Zola's algorithm.

This is not only the longest fic on this list, but also the angstiest one—by a mile, so please heed the tags. It's dark, disturbing, and brutal. However, it is neither relentless misery porn nor is it shocking for shock's sake, where everything is magically forgotten and/or healed the moment Steve and Bucky start kissing. Instead, the author puts these characters into an absolutely horrifying situation and then slowly, gently guides them out of it and into the light.

It's a Stucky fic but it's also a multi-POV ensemble piece featuring all the Avengers and other familiar faces. If you are someone who'll always be a little bitter about the unfulfilled promise of an Avengers found family, then this is for you. In this AU, they do not only fight together, but grow together in every way. They truly become a team, not just co-workers barely tolerating each other. The story takes its time exploring the characters and the group dynamics. Steve and Bucky are definitely at the center of the narrative but there is space here for every member of the team to grieve and adjust to the new reality and to find at least some measure of healing. It's a story about the meaning and the consequences of revenge, about hope and resilience, and about love in all its many forms. It also has one of the most satisfying title drops that will have you pump your fist in triumph when it happens. It's a tough read, but ultimately a very rewarding one.

SPELEVINK by Ginny_Potter | 10K, G

Author's summary: Bucky’s back. He’s leaving me messages through IKEA plushies, Steve texts Sam. jesus christ, rogers, Sam texts back. Or, Bucky lives in an IKEA Tiny Apartment, Steve is a dancing monkey once again, and somehow they find their way back to each other.

This is an absolute DELIGHT of a fic that will have you alternately laughing out loud and crying quietly into your SVARTFIBBLA blanket (super-soft, recycled polyester, 47x63"). It's ‘crack treated seriously’ at its very best and a clear homage to the fandom classic Infinite Coffee… (that’s not a dig or a spoiler, the author says so in the author’s note).

Now if you know me, you’ll know that angst o’clock is my happy hour and I’m usually not very into these heavy-on the-humor quasi-absurdist fics (because I’m super special and not like all the other girls, obviously). But. I LOVED this story so, so much. It’s such a fun read—even when it makes you cry—and it really became one of those ‘huh, I guess I’m into this after all’ moments of joyful (self)discovery via fanfic for me. I never thought a pair of oven mitts could move me like that, and I'll never be able to walk into an IKEA again without muttering "F******!" under my breath (iykyk). Absolutely fantastic.

a handful of dust by RecoveringTheSatellites | 20K, M

Author's summary: Steve looks for Bucky for a long time. But the thing is that Bucky doesn't get found, Bucky finds. Bucky always finds Steve. This takes a hard left after the Potomac and stumbles through the dark a lot after. Take a bit of running, the occasional synaptic misfire, the resurfacing of old memories, a dash or two of PTSD, and (eventually) a nice dose of action, stir, and serve over some unresolved issues.

Honestly, the second paragraph up there perfectly sums up the story. It's a good ol' fashioned Bucky recovery fic with some angst, some action, and a whole lot of healing and devotion. Steve and Bucky get to be very sappy about each other, but also extremely Badass Battle Boyfriends™ when somebody threatens their hard-won happiness. Both are allowed to be messy, unstable, and very co-dependent.

This was the first time this author played in the Stucky sandbox and I mean it 100% as a compliment when I say that you can tell. This is someone with "fresh legs" diving headfirst and very deep into the Stucky trope pool and they're doing it with great relish and enthusiam. The result is a story that rejects some of the tried and true conventions of the post-TWS fanfic canon and lovingly embraces others, but that is definitely aware of and in dialogue with the body of work that came before it. Also, it's just a really fun read that gives these two the very soft ending they deserve.

Everybody is Supposed to be Dead by pollutedstar | 22K, M

Author's summary: In 1944, Bucky Barnes falls off a train into the Alps, missing and presumed dead. Months later, Steve Rogers nosedives a plane into the arctic. In 2010, the Winter Soldier project is uncovered by S.H.I.E.L.D., and Bucky Barnes is found alive. Three years later, Steve Rogers’ frozen body is found in the ocean.

A really interesting AU and a fascinating exploration of what could’ve been; the impact it would’ve had on the events and characters if Bucky had been the one to be “found” first. How would it affect Steve to come back into a world where he isn’t quite so lonely and adrift, and where he does have the relief and reassurance of having Bucky by his side and at his back? How would that have changed the way he acted and reacted to this strange new world and the people and organizations trying to recruit him to their cause even though the ice hasn't even completely melted off his body yet?

There are a lot of astute and precise observations about characters like Tony, Natasha, and Clint in this story, and on top of that, it offers up some very compelling insights into Steve's conflicted and difficult relationship with his role as Captain America.

it's never over (hey orpheus) by romcommie | 12K WIP, 2/?, M

Author's summary: He remembers a song first and then everything else follows, burying him below. Or, Bucky Barnes pieces a life back together with a few choice verses, some duct tape and seventy years worth of spite. Steve Rogers tries very hard to relearn there's a life to be lived in the first place.

Ok, listen up, people! This is a WIP and there are only 2 chapters posted so far, but I haven't felt this absolutely bonkers excited about a post-CA:TWS fic in a long while. We're talking frothing at the mouth here. I have such a massive crush on this fic, it's a bit embarrassing, really. It's one of those fics where you know after just a few paragraphs that you're in very good, very competent hands. The wealth of historical and cultural detail; the way the story shifts/flips/flickers back and forth between time, perspective and narrative levels; the Bucky voice—it's all so well done! I'm so insanely excited to see where the author takes this!

ENJOY!

#catws10 #stucky #stucky fic rec #stucky fic #stucky rec list #steve x bucky #stucky fic recs #steve x bucky fic rec #stevebucky fic rec #stevebucky #my recs #*drops this and runs aways* this rec list nearly gave me an aneurysm. you're welcome!

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dragonnarrative-writes · 3 months

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Part 7 - Date Activities

Slasher Handler Masterlist

NSFW under the cut.

CW: Non-descriptive mentions of torture, numbers and math, brief nudity, allusions to cannon-typical violence (Ghost's backstory), red herrings, bones

“Where ‘m I?” You slur around a dry tongue. Struggling to balance your weight on your hips, try to wrap your arms around yourself. Too late, you realize that there’s not enough slack on the chain to complete the motion. “Where‘re we?”

You want to scream. You want to cry and hide your face. You’re horrified to realize that you want Simon, your version of Simon, to materialize on the edge of the bed and comfort you. Unfortunately, all you can do is blink and sway.

“If you’re dizzy, you should lay back down.” Simon’s voice from that jaw-less skull is so disconcerting. In your nightmares, the skull mask sounds inhuman. Distorted, echoing. The burning bush overlap of every person who’s ever made you unsafe. Now, it’s just Simon’s measured speech.

But the rest of him is just as big and dangerous as you remember. He’s dressed like he expects to have to fight someone. His black jacket is covered by some kind of utility vest with a bunch of pockets. A handgun sits in a thigh holster, and on his other hip is the Big Knife. He’s not wearing his usual boots, these are heavier looking. If you weren’t so overwhelmed, you’d be terrified.

The masked killer on the other side of the room tilts his head and regards you for a long moment. The weird silence is such a Simon thing to do that you let yourself take your eyes off of him enough to take a quick look around the room. His chair is by the only door, a solid looking wood. To the left side of the room, there’s a bare folding table. On it, from what you can see, sit bottles of water, a bag of grapes, and some brown packaging. There’s another folding chair. At the foot of the mattress, there’s a huge, black hard case. The kind you’ve seen in action movies.

“Right now,” Simon finally answers. “You’re in the safe zone."

You blame the drugs in your system. It’s the only reason you can think of to look him in his eyes and blurt, “That’s not a fuckin’ answer, you cryptic asshole.”

You’re glad you’ve learned to read his eyes, because they’re amused when he stands. Even across the room, he towers over you. You clutch at the blanket to, what? Protect yourself? But Simon just crosses to the table and picks up a bottle of water and a sleeve of saltine crackers. He chucks both of them at your legs before returning to his seat.

“Sip the water, eat slowly,” he instructs. “And I’ll tell you the rules of the game.”

You can’t think of a reason not to, so you struggle for a moment with the bottle cap before bringing the bottle to your lips. Your mouth feels gross and fuzzy, but the water is cool. The crackers, when you finally tear the packaging, are exactly what you needed. You wish you had some ginger ale.

“You told Kyle that I’d taken you hunting,” Simon starts. “But I hadn’t really. First time was a happy coincidence. Second time, you planned the date activity and I kind of hijacked it, yeah?”

If your neck wasn’t so thick, I’d strangle you, you think. You take another sip of water.

“So I thought to myself, what parts of hunting might my sweet, clever girl be interested in? How can I make sure she’s having just as much fun as me? And I remembered your little cubes.”

You narrow your eyes at that. The Rubik’s cubes were one of the first signs that he’d been breaking into your apartment. By now, he knows that you know how to solve them. Two weeks after he’d moved in next door, though, he hadn’t figured that out. It had made your skin crawl to come home from work and see the colors in the wrong places. Now, sometimes, he’ll present the cubes for you to solve while you talk. When you hand him the completed puzzle, he scrambles it up and hands it back.

“You didn’t kidnap me to make me solve a giant Rubik’s cube,” you say.

“No,” he answers. If you could see his face, you think he’d be smirking. “But the first part of the game is a puzzle. You have to get out of the room.”

When he doesn’t say anything else, you want to scream. Instead, you slowly eat your way through the crackers and sip your water and think. The metal cuffs on your wrists are far enough apart that you can easily reach the locking mechanisms. They’re just tight enough that you can’t wiggle out, but they’re not uncomfortable. You can’t see where the chain to the ground is latched, so if there’s a clasp on that end, maybe this will be more simple than you think. You doubt it.

Daylight is streaming in through the window behind you. The shadows of the bars are very obvious, so the only way out of the room is going to be through the door. Simon’s sitting on the hinge side, but the only way you’ll get out before he blocks the way is probably if he’s on this side of the room. Facing the table, maybe. Preferably not standing.

Maybe you can strangle him with the chain.

You freeze as soon as the thought enters your mind, cracker halfway to your mouth. Wrapping the chain around the neck of that death mask only makes sense. But the idea of killing Simon makes you feel like vomiting.

When you look back at him, his eyes are as heated as they ever get. “Don’t worry, precious. I made you a promise last night. No killing, no wounds. No “Saw” puzzles. Just a little escape room. Told me you like those.”

Had you? That sounds like something you would have said, back in the beginning, to see what he would do. You take another sip to clear your mouth and settle your stomach. You’re already feeling better. “What are the rules?”

“You’ve got ninety minutes to get out of the cuffs and get into the chest. Once you’ve done both, the timer stops, and I explain the next part of the game.”

“Can I ask you questions once I get started?”

“Of course,” Simon says, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest.

You bite your lip. “When does the timer start?”

“You tell me when you start,” he says. “We’re not in any rush.”

“What’s in the chest?”

“That,” he answers, eyes crinkling with an obvious grin this time, “you’ll have to find out for yourself.”

That is not an answer you want to hear, but there’s nothing to be done about it. You rack your brain for any more questions. There are, of course, about a million. But the one that sticks out is, “Why were you so nice to me, last night? You could have just drugged me. You did, anyway.”

Simon doesn’t say anything for a long time, just looks at you. He holds eye contact, so you don’t look away. After a full thirty seconds, he hums. “You said you missed me. That you wanted to be with me. You asked me to stay. I liked it.”

The way he says it, warm voiced and slow and soft, makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up. There’s a spark of something in his eyes that you don’t want to examine. You’re too afraid to look away. But then he blinks and lets his eyes drift up and away from you. The breath you didn’t know you were holding whooshes out of you.

“Guess I’d better get started,” you say.

When you stand to the side of the bed, you find that you’re wearing one of his shirts, a pair of underwear, and a pair of socks. The room isn’t unbearably cold, but it’s not comfortable. The chain to your cuffs is much longer than you expected. You think it’s long enough for you to walk all the way around the room, unimpeded. If so, it’s long enough to get out the door, with a little extra slack. It’s locked to a loop bolted into the floor with a key lock.

You walk around to the table to get a good look at everything. There’s the water. The brown packages are four MREs, which you recognize from camping trips back when you were a teenager. There’s actually a few different fruits - grapes, apples, bananas, a bowl of chopped watermelon of all things. All of that is gathered on one side of the table. The side close to the empty chair has a manila folder. A glance inside shows printouts, three pages of text and forms, with some of the information redacted.

You let the folder fall closed and walk over to the chest. There’s two combination locks, each with four dials, one with numbers and the other with letters.

That’s two wrist cuffs, the lock for the chain, and two locks on the chest. If the cuffs share a key, this might be doable. If not… “Two or three keys, and two combinations?” you ask.

“Two keys, two combinations,” Simon confirms.

You do a quick calculation in your head. “A little more than 20 minutes per puzzle. That’s pretty tight, but doable. What happens if I don’t get it done in time?”

You turn to look at Simon and catch him looking at your legs. When he meets your eyes, his are smirking again. “You lose time in the second part of the game. And you’re going to want that time.”

With a sigh and a shake of your head, you walk to the wall across from the table. There are some cracks in the paint, a couple of scattered, discolored spots. But it doesn’t seem deliberate. So you leave it and head back to the table. The folder is tempting, but obvious, so you start with the fruit.

Bag of grapes, three apples, five bananas. You open the package of watermelon and poke around in it. No keys. Not in the bag of grapes, either. The apples and bananas are whole. But one of the bananas has a series of numbers followed by Xs written on it in black ink. 11 21 32 XX. You pry it from the others, carefully, and take it over to the folder.

The metal chair is cold when you use your hand to pull it out. You turn back to the bed and grab the thin blanket to cover it, then have an idea. You shake the pillow from the pillowcase and strip the sheets from the bed. No key, but the pillow has another set of digits and Xs written on it. 7 13 26 XX. You lift the mattress to look under it, but there’s nothing else, so you let it fall.

“Can I have a pen?” you ask, absently. You’re surprised when Simon plucks one from his vest and holds it out for you. You snort as you walk over to take it. “Can I have the key to the cuffs, while you’re at it?”

Simon’s eyes do something complicated as you take the pen. Then he tilts his head, reaches up, and pulls a thin chain from under his shirt. On it dangle two keys, one a tiny cylinder of a thing, the other a proper key. He lets them both drop against his collarbones.

You dart your eyes between the keys and his eyes. “Are you serious?”

“’D prefer if you opened the folder,” he says with a shrug. “But I do have the keys. Cost you… 15 minutes for one.”

“Did you just make that number up?” You laugh. Then it hits you and you glare. “You’re distracting me and stalling.”

“You asked,” he points out, chuckling as you whirl on your heel to go back to the folder.

That is neither disputable or worth responding to, so you don’t. You drop into your seat and open the folder. The first thing you do is jot down the numbers and where you found them on the inside. None of the numbers are repeated, so you leave them for now. Then you pick up the first sheet of paper.

It’s the service record for one Simon J. Riley.

A lot of the information is redacted. Most of the page is blacked out lines. But you see that he enlisted in 2001, had some kind of redacted gap from 2003 to 2004, then resumed his service. Then it jumps out at you. 2007, KIA. You can’t help but look up at him, and find him watching you already. You scour the page for any other information, but there’s nothing. So you flip the page.

This one is some kind of tactical… memorandum? Too much is redacted for you to be able to get much information about who the report is for, so you just start reading.

Mission to Mexico. Drug cartel, name redacted. Compromised leadership. Someone got double crossed. You start feeling sick at the description of torture, but most of the details are obscured, so you push through. Then a line makes you pause, and you have to re-read it. You flip back and forth between Simon’s service record and the report.

“Simon,” you say slowly. Your stomach is really twisted in knots, now. You’re afraid to look at him, but you make yourself meet his eyes. “Were you buried alive?”

He says, “Yes.” Your heart breaks.

The next few lines are blacked out. You really don’t want to ask, but, “How did you get out?”

“Blood, sweat, and tears,” he says, vaguely. “Probably not something you want to think about, sweet thing. Don’t want to waste time.”

“I need to pause the game,” you tell him. “because I just read that you were buried alive.”

“An explanation will cost you an hour,” Simon offers. His eyes are crinkled like he’s smiling.

“Simon.” Your voice is sharp to your own ears. “What the fuck?”

“Tick tock.”

You know from past experience that getting any more information from him will be like getting blood from a stone. So you make yourself read on. There’s a confusing bit about… brainwashing? Without the full context the report is a mess. Multiple civilian casualties, then… mission objective complete? Lots of blocked out text, surrounding a single word. ROBA.

You jot that on the lower half of the folder, then skim through the documents again for any numbers. Besides the years in the service record, there’s nothing that jumps out. So you jot down 2001, 2003, 2004, and 2007.

You decide this is a good enough place to start with the puzzles. The numbers on the pillow seem simple enough. You’re not good at math, but you’re good at patterns. You eliminate a few possible addition patterns, recognize it probably isn’t pure multiplication. Considering who Simon is, you gamble that there’s probably no fractions or decimals involved, so it’s probably going to be some combination of multiplication and subtraction. And as soon as you think of that, you see it. Times two, minus one. So the last number is 49.

The the second puzzle, from the banana, tickles your brain because you know you’ve seen it before. The numbers aren’t doubling. And it’s not simple addition. Adding in sequence seems to work. Adding 10 to 11 makes 21, then adding 11 works to get to 32. Plus 12 would make the next digits 44. That seems almost too easy, but these kinds of puzzles usually are. And it is a possible answer, so you write it down.

The only other potential numbers are the dates. If you pick the last four digits, that’s 1347. Another code. Unless it’s 2222. Or 0000. Or 2020...

Now you have a few potential 4 digit codes, and a possible 4 letter code.

“Time check?”

Simon looks at his watch. “Sixty-two minutes left.”

You hum an acknowledgment, and flip the pages in the folder, and the folder itself. There’s nothing else, so you leave the papers on the table and take your notes over to the crate.

Simon makes an interested noise through his nose. “That was fast.”

“Haven’t found the keys, yet,” you answer, “Gotta get a move on.”

You start with the letters, because it seems straightforward. And then you’re a bit stumped, because the lock doesn’t have a B available in the third slot. Or an A in the first. So you’ll have to find a cypher or something before you can tackle this one. Disappointing, but you still have time. You move over to the other lock and hope you have what you need. 4944 doesn’t work. Neither does 4449, 9444, or 4494. 2222, 0000, and 1347 are all a bust. You make your way through 1374, 1437, 1473, 1734, and 1743 before you give up.

“Fuck,” you grumble.

Crouched as you are, you have a new vantage point to consider. You scuttle your way under the table without putting your knees on the ground, and look at the underside. Sure enough, there’s a doodle of two bananas with a pillow in between. The dates were most likely a red herring. Or they’re the cypher to the letters.

“I got the numbers wrong,” you grumble.

“You’re a smart girl,” Simon says. “You can figure it out. Fifty-seven minutes.”

You scoot from under the table and make to stand up, but something on your leg catches your eye. Dropping onto the now bare mattress, you lift the edge of your shirt, Simon’s shirt, and see writing on your inner thigh, upside down so you can see it easily. Four digits, 01 10, and another fucking banana.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you groan.

Simon snickers from his chair.

You grab your folder and pen and jot the new string of numbers down. 01 10 11 21 32 XX. Obviously, adding in sequence no longer works. It’s gotta have something to do with the number of 1s in the sequence, so you try to let go of math related assumptions. The first two numbers swap their digits. Then two ones. Then a two and a one. Then a three and a two. Zero plus one is one. One plus zero is one. One plus one is two. Two plus one is three. Three plus two is… five as the first digit? Sliding the tens to the ones place is one, zero, one, two… three. 53.

Banana pillow banana, then, is 5493.

Before you go to check, you stand up to lift your shirt up to look at your belly, then higher to look at the skin of your breasts. You ignore the low wolf-whistle Simon makes to do a quick inspection. Nothing jumps out, so you let the shirt drop a bit and pull your underwear away from your hips. You feel a bit silly staring at your own crotch, but it’s Simon so you figure nothing’s really off limits. And you’re rewarded with the discovery of a piece of tape with a doodle of a heart on it. The tape is garment quality, which explains why you didn’t feel it.

The heart doesn’t really give you much, but you pull it out and slap it on the folder anyways.

“Forty-nine minutes,” Simon says when you look up at him.

Back at the chest, you click the dials to the number sequence you identified and grin to yourself when the lock gives an easy snick as it opens. The other lock is still a mystery, but you’ve got one down, and still plenty of time to request the cuff key if needed.

You turn to look up at Simon from where you’re crouched. “How much does a hint cost?”

He pretends to think for a moment. “For that lock? Flash me your tits again.”

“Nasty,” you roll your eyes as you stand up. You lift the shirt up to your neck and are startled when he sits forward to rest his hands on your hips. The skull mask gets even closer, and then he’s kissing over your heart, eyes locked on yours. He leaves his lips against you through his balaclava, thumbs rubbing over the place where your hips meet your belly.

You stare down at that bone face from less than two inches away. You used to hope it was plastic. Now you know for a fact that it is not.

And then he lets you go and sits back, crossing his arms over his large chest. He looks at his watch.

“Forty-six minutes.”

You gape at him. “Where’s my clue?”

“That was your clue.”

“That’s the least helpful clue ever,” you complain.

“You found all the other ones,” Simon points out. “But I’ll tell you the solution if you let me fuck you.”

You scoff. “I don’t need you to tell me. I can figure it out.”

“I know,” Simon’s grin is easier to make out this close. “My clever girl.”

You grumble, but you can’t help but grin as you try to think of what the four letter sequence could be. On a whim, you try TITS. The letters are present, but that’s apparently not the combo. Heart has too many letters, but maybe has something to do with feelings. The lock doesn’t have the right letters for LOVE, forward or backward. Same with HATE. You try SRSK for Simon Riley the Serial Killer, but that’s not it. You’re on a date, so you try combining his initials with yours where it fits, but that’s not it either. In a fit of pique, you try TITS again.

Then you take a deep breath and think about Simon and you. Your relationship. DATE, KILL, and CARE are a bust. AMOR, EROS, HOLD, BOND. None of them work.

You’re getting antsy because you still need at least the key for your handcuffs and you're running out of time, but you make yourself take a deep, slow breath. SLOW and DEEP don’t work. And then you pause and look up at Simon’s face. At the skull.

BONE.

Nope. But it was worth a shot.

But thinking about skulls and bones makes you think of skeletons. Dead bodies. Cemeteries. Simon’s service record, breaking your heart.

BURY.

The lock clicks open.

You’re giddy as you swing the lid of the chest open. And, almost immediately, you scramble backwards, shoulders colliding painfully with Simon’s knees. Without thinking, you clamber up until you’re perched in his lap, staring in horror at the human skull grinning up at you from atop black cloth.

A piece of tape is on the right temple. In Simon’s scrawl, it simply says BRANDON.

#dragonnarrativewrites fanfiction #cod #fanfiction #simon ghost riley #dark fic #simon riley x you #slasher handler #simon riley x you smut #manic pixie dream ghost

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ladykailitha · 2 months

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Not All That Glitters is Gold Part 9

I know I keep saying this but I think I'm starting to wrap it up. By my current calculations I have about 3 more chapters to write (as always I have several chapters backlogged). That could go up of course, but that's the way it appears to be going at the moment.

In this chapter we have the first of their three "dates" and Eddie and Steve get personal.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

Heads up for sexy times, I would tell you where, but it's intermixed with a lot of conversation. Sorry.

****

Steve had never been nervous before a roleplay before. Not even his very first one. Of course that had been the homemaker one, and he thrived on them originally.

He had worn the dress as requested, but changed up the accessories. He went for simple pearl earrings and necklace. Nothing on his wrists, they would only cause problems later.

He leaned up against the bar, nursing his drink as he scanned the crowd. The thing about rolyplays was that you didn’t know exactly when the client would show up, just a ballpark figure.

Robin was on hand this time to scare off any assholes who thought that an escort was fair game whether or not they were on the clock or not.

She had already headed off three of these douchebags already and was in the process of heading off a fourth when another one breezed past her to head straight for Steve.

She was about dump ice down this alpha’s dress if she didn’t get out of her way so she could get her omega, when the woman saw the fifth alpha trying to chat Steve up.

She threw her arms in the air and stormed off, cursing Robin in at least three different languages.

Robin turned her attention to Steve, but smiled at the scene instead. Eddie Munson had arrived and Steve and he were eviscerating the asshole alpha for horning in on their date.

So she moved to sit in a nearby booth to watch them.

****

Eddie bristled when he arrived to see that Robin was having a hard time fending off alphas trying to get to Steve.

God, Steve.

Eddie had thought the man was beautiful in the glamour of his own home, but here, under the soft lights of the hotel bar, he looked like a goddess and Eddie was down to worship.

He strolled right up and slipped his arm around Steve’s waist. “Hello, darlin’. I’m sorry I’m late.”

Steve’s omega immediately preened at the attention. “I’m just glad you’re here now.”

The other alpha was a forty year old man who looked like he had more money than sense.

Eddie looked him up and down. “Shoo.”

The man sneered. “You really think that someone like you could handle an omega like that? Don’t make me laugh.”

Steve rolled his eyes, tugging on his earring. “Well considering he paid for the privilege and you didn’t, I’d fuck off before I call security.”

The man pulled himself up to full height and was scenting rage, but before he could even make a move, Xander was towering behind the guy and Robin put her hand one his chest.

Steve had signaled her when he tugged on his left earring and both his handler and driver were there for there intercept before things got really ugly.

As Xander and hotel security hauled him out, he started screaming cuss words and calling Steve all sorts of names.

Eddie winced. “Not how I wanted to start our date, sweetheart.”

Steve rubbed his nose along Eddie’s scent gland. “I don’t know, I found it hot the way you swooped in for the rescue.”

Eddie smirked. “Did you now?”

Steve bit his lip and looked down to glance up at him through his eyelashes. “Of course you did, baby. I’m such a lucky omega.”

Eddie’s alpha growled low and deep and it forced its way out of his throat. “You’re looking pretty hot yourself, Stevie.” His hand slid to press on Steve’s lower back and pulled the omega flush against his chest. “What’s your pleasure?” He nodded to the glass still in Steve’s hand.

Steve dragged his hips side to side, rubbing their clothed cocks together, but before Eddie could do anything than moan, Steve stepped away from the alpha and asked for a bottle of their best whiskey to share.

Eddie sat down on the barstool next to him and they talked. With each passing moment as the alcohol hit his system, Steve was getting warmer. He could feel the heat between his legs. He crossed them to try and tame the desire that was pulsating through his very core.

Eddie licked his lips and his mouth went dry. He downed the rest of his glass and threw money on the bar top.

“Keep the change,” he growled, not even glancing to see how much he had dropped, but judging from Steve’s impressed expression it was probably a lot.

Eddie grabbed Steve’s wrist and they were off running for the elevators. Eddie pressed the up button and then pulled Steve close to kiss him deeply.

The elevator bell dinged and Steve pushed him away to dash into the open doors. Eddie gave chase and swung Steve around, bring him back to his orbit, barely hitting the right floor as he drank in Steve’s kisses.

Again the elevator bell dinged and the doors swung open again and they ran out, hand in hand.

Steve giggled as Eddie struggled to get the key card out of his pants and finally let them into the hotel suite.

Eddie got his hands under the slits in the dress, feeling up Steve’s thighs. “God, baby. I could eat you all up.”

Steve smiled but pushed back. He took a couple steps back, putting more distance between them. Once he was far enough back that Eddie would get the full effect, Steve reached up and undid the clasp on his dress.

And as described the dress flowed like a waterfall to ground.

Eddie gaped as he stood there in his just thong and shoes. “Fuck. That was even sexier than it was in my head.”

He got close enough to extend his hand to help Steve step away from the folds of the dress pooling at his ankles and right into Eddie’s arms.

Eddie kissed him like he was drowning and Steve was his salvation.

Steve was dizzy with want. There were a few alphas in his past that he had had crushes on or even developed feelings for, but they were nothing compared to the sheer want of being with Eddie.

“Yes, alpha,” he murmured. “Take what you want.”

Eddie let out a low growl that came from his chest and Steve’s omega fucking chirped back. But before the embarrassment could over take Steve for having broken through his professionalism again for this man, Eddie was sweeping Steve off his feet and carrying him bridal style to the bed.

Eddie carefully set him down and then made quick work of taking off Steve’s shoes. Now all he was wearing was his matching gold thong and looking up at Eddie with hooded eyes.

“Fuck, Stevie,” Eddie purred. “You look good enough to eat.”

Steve let out a delight laugh. “So you’ve said, so you gonna do something about it?”

Eddie licked the top row of his teeth, bring attention to sharp canine teeth that alphas were famous for. Gotta break the skin for that bond bite, you know?

Steve giggled hysterically and slapped a hand over his mouth. He blushed a dark red. A red that seemed to reach his nipples and the tips of his ears.

Eddie gently pulled his hand away from his mouth. “It’s alright to giggle, darlin’. It was cute.”

He kissed the inside of Steve’s wrist and suddenly the shame gave way to arousal. Steve moaned.

“That’s it, baby,” Eddie whispered, “I want to hear every delicious sound you make.” He slid off the panties and tossed them to the side.

Steve threw back his head and nearly jack knifed off the bed, crying out in pleasure when Eddie buried his head right between Steve’s legs.

Steve thought for sure Eddie would go for his cock. Every alpha Steve had been with had. Steve was well endowed for even a beta. He could never measure up to an alpha cock, as they were massive by design to be able to form a knot, but Steve had nothing to scoff at.

But, no. Eddie went straight for Steve’s pussy, licking and sucking the folds of his omegahood.

“Eddie!” Steve cried. “Oh god! That feels so good.”

Eddie nipped gently on the inside of Steve’s thigh. “What’s the matter, gorgeous, no one eat you out before?”

Steve shook his head, biting down on his lip in humiliation.

Eddie’s head snapped up in shock. “Wait, really?”

“It’s my job to take care of the alpha,” Steve murmured, “no one’s taken care of me before.”

Eddie sat up and looked him right in the eye. “What do you do for your heats?”

Steve struggled to sit up and Eddie let him. He wrapped his arms around his knees. “We aren’t allowed to share them with alphas.” He cocked his head to the side. “Not normally anyway. Only the highest of the high elite know that heats can be bought through the agency, but they’re are deliberately prohibitively high.”

Eddie licked his lips as another piece of the puzzle that was this beautiful omega fell into place.

“Like how high are we talking about?”

Steve scratched his cheek. “Depends on the omega really.”

Eddie snorted. “I meant you specifically, sweetheart.”

“Well, last time someone asked it was quoted at five million,” he replied with a wince, “but that was a couple of years ago, it’s probably twice that now.”

“I’m guessing he didn’t have the money?” Eddie asked rubbing his chin.

Steve scoffed. “She and no, she didn’t. She protested so hotly that Starcourt banned her for life.”

“That’s a really short list to be on,” he said, whistling long and low. “That must have been one hell of a hornets’ nest she kicked.”

“You wouldn’t have heard anything about it,” Steve mumbled. “Starcourt takes the lives of their omegas very seriously. They were able to buy off the press and force her into fringe media to make her look hysterical. It went so far under the radar that most people don’t even remember her.”

Eddie tugged on Steve’s legs until he was stretched out on the bed again. “Change of track. I was going to give you the most mind blowing, heat searing sex imaginable, but now I’m going worship every inch of your skin like you should be.”

Steve covered his face with his hands in embarrassment, behind them he could hear Eddie undress. Then the bed sank with the weight of Eddie as peeled Steve’s hands away from his face.

“No hiding, baby,” he murmured into Steve’s ear. “I want to see all of you.”

Steve let out a low shuddering breath and then nodded. “Yes, alpha.”

“Good boy,” Eddie said softly against his lips before sealing them with a kiss.

It was gentle and warm and Steve absolutely melted with it. Eddie moved from his lips to his jaw to the two little moles just under his chin. He hovered over Steve’s scent gland.

“Can I scent you, Stevie?” he muttered, voice thick with want.

Steve’s hips canted up seeking friction. “Yes, Eds. Please!”

Eddie pulled his head up to look at him in the eyes. “Eds, huh? I like it.” He bent back over the scent gland and licked along its length, causing Steve to shiver.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Eddie cooed. “Look at how responsive you are when someone takes care of you. You’re positively aching for it, aren’t you?”

Steve nodded. “Please, Eds, I need you.”

“And how could I possibly say no to such a pretty request.”

Eddie pulled off his clothes and slid on a condom, then proceeded to make the night about Steve’s pleasure. Working every inch of his body like he was playing guitar.

Steve isn’t even sure how many times he came that night, but he was damn sure it was a personal record.

As they laid in bed together afterwards, condom disposed of, Eddie asked, “How come you switch between my name and calling me alpha?”

Steve blushed deeply. “Technically I’m not supposed to use a client’s name when I’m on a job, just ‘alpha’.”

“To keep impersonal?” Eddie guessed, wrapping Steve up into his arms and pressing a kiss on his jaw.

Steve hummed. “Yeah, but you keep breaking through my professional exterior to my gooey center.”

Eddie chuckled, nosing Steve’s scent gland. “You won’t get into trouble, will you?”

“No,” Steve said, amusement coloring his tone, making it light and airy. “And if they do say something, I’ll just tell them that since I’m pretending to be your boyfriend for the next three months, I can’t go around calling you ‘alpha’. How weird would that be?”

Eddie just nodded. “When do you have to leave?”

Steve turned in his arms so that they faced each other. “Usually, I’d slip out once you’re asleep–”

“You do what now?!” Eddie squawked, outraged.

Steve rolled his eyes. “It’s for our safety. Too often alphas will get possessive if we stay the night, thinking there was more to it than a simple transaction.”

“Oh.”

Eddie hadn’t thought about it that way. He was only thinking about how the alpha would feel. But that was meaningless. It didn’t matter how they felt, because as Steve pointed out, it was only a transaction.

“Yeah,” Steve said with a shrug. “But seeing as tonight was to set up us as ‘dating’ staying the night is kinda the point.”

“Sounds good, darlin’,” Eddie murmured, settling into fall asleep.

Steve watched as his breath evened out and his eyes fluttered close.

Now all he had to do is figure out how to prevent his heart from shattering into a billion pieces when they ‘broke up’ in three months.

****

Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @messrs-weasley @goodolefashionedloverboi @maya-custodios-dionach @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @bookworm0690 @bookbinderbitch @yikes-a-bee @littlewildflowerkitten @vecnuthy @scheodingers-muppet @y4r3luv @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @genderless-spoon @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @irregular-child @nburkhardt @apomaro-mellow @yellowdevilkitten @eyehartart @mangoinacan13 @demolvr @ellietheasexylibrarian @rememberthatiloveyou @slowandsteddie @r0binscript @alyelf @melodymeddler @mogami13

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #omegaverse #alpha eddie munson #rockstar eddie munson #omega steve harrington

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your-eternal-lies · 1 month

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_ LOVE IS A CHOICE (chapter three)

Main Navigation || Please follow @your-eternal-library for all my fanfiction updates.

PAIRING — Bucky Barnes x Agent f!Reader SERIES SUMMARY — In your experience, relationships only bring drama and heartbreak, and you want absolutely none of it. That is, until an act of sheer recklessness brings Bucky Barnes back into your life.

WARNINGS — Angst, blood and injury, Hydra are assholes, torture, grief, nightmares, ptsd, everyone is just so darn sad. I won’t lie to you, my darlings, this chapter is rough.

LOVE IS A CHOICE

CHAPTER THREE

He always heard the screaming as if it wasn’t his own.

This time, it really wasn’t.

Hidden in the shadows, the Asset fights the urge to look away as his cruelest handler bends over the screaming woman, dragging the tip of a blade over her skin as if trying to carve the secrets directly out of her flesh.

The wounds from her last torture session haven’t even fully healed yet before they are torn open once again, fresh blood spilling onto the frozen concrete floor of her dungeon cell.

But the woman insists she knows nothing. She sobs it over and over, promising that she knows nothing of Natasha Romanoff’s defection.

The Asset stands motionless, unyielding and unflinching, blue eyes as cold as the ice. In all his years here, he has learned to spot when others are lying.

And this one is lying through her teeth.

He can’t understand why.

Self-preservation is the main language he’s learned to speak. Born out of pain, created by now faceless scientists who shock his veins and ice his blood, he is merely a tool at their disposal.

Leave no survivors. That’s the only rule he must abide by when he’s completing a mission. Women and children aren’t exempt from harm, regardless of how much he desperately wants to spare them.

But the Asset knows now. At the very least, he can guarantee their deaths are quick and painless. He is never granted the same mercy. It’s either them or him, and he doesn’t have the luxury to feel sorry that he picks himself every single time.

Granted, his handlers would probably kill her once they were done, but at least the agony would stop. He would personally give anything for it to stop. But, he can’t help but wonder… what could possibly be worth suffering through all that pain?

Despite himself, he is bombarded by images he can’t recognize. A boy with hair brighter than sunshine and eyes that could mirror his own, a suit of stars and stripes, the echo of a scream over the sounds of a running train.

“Soldat,” his handler’s gravelly voice pulls him back into reality. The Asset does not respond from behind his mask; he never does. “I’m taking a break. Keep an eye on the girl.”

Taking a break, he says. As if he hasn’t spent the last few days torturing a girl half his size, sheathing a still blood-covered blade in its usual spot in his belt. The Asset hides his disgust behind a veil of indifference, eyes seeing but unfeeling.

But as the days wore on, as the events of the previous ones kept repeating over and over, as the woman kept insisting she knew absolutely nothing, making it clear she was ready to die to keep whatever secrets she held close, something truly terrifying happens.

Whenever they left him alone with her, he would emerge from the shadows, something deep in his soul reacting to her sorrow. His eyes asked her questions his mouth never would, and she would lie there against that concrete slab, exhausted but unable to sleep, and tell him to survive.

“You must live,” she would insist, and he would find that over the course of their limited exchanges, his palm would somehow find its way against hers. “You’re not who they say you are.”

That was all it took. One small sliver of warmth and, in the previously hollow expanse of his chest, a heart he didn’t know still existed stuttered back to life.

And when the time came for her pain to resume, he found he did not want to move from his spot at her side. He wanted to kill every last one of them, anyone who laid even a finger on her, but she would remove her hand from his and silently beckon him to comply.

Ah, he thought as he did as she wished, forcing himself to listen to every last whimper and shriek, this was his punishment, wasn’t it?

He told himself then that he wouldn’t forget, no matter how much they tried to make him. He would remember her face, her voice, and the feel of her skin against his—even the metallic scent of her blood.

He would remember The Woman, he promised.

He would allow Natasha Romanoff, when she finally returned to Moscow with a wrath hot enough to scorch the frozen earth beneath her, to kill his handler with a swift flick of her blade. He would hide in the shadows once more, allowing her to pick The Woman up and carry her away.

“No!” She had begged, reaching out for him in vain, too weak to properly protest. In that moment, he wished he knew her name, wished he could caress her cheek with his one good hand, and commit the feeling to memory.

But then a swarm of footsteps brought more agents, more handlers, more carnage into the fray. Only when Romanoff was a good distance away did he step between the women and his very own captors.

The Woman still screams in the distance, with a new kind of pain that carves deep in his bones, her voice echoing off the concrete walls, the both of them understanding the gravity of the decision he’d just made.

It takes nearly a dozen guards to subdue him, after he’s already spilled the blood of another ten. They strap him down back into that blasted chair, the one that used to scare him, the one he went to impossible and devastating lengths to avoid.

This time, he allows them to push him into it. He accepts his fate, closing his eyes against the impending agony, wondering if The Woman is finally safe. Pain-free.

Or rather, just plain free.

And here he used to wonder, what could possibly be worth suffering through all that pain? It had been such a mystery mere weeks ago, now made incredibly simple.

The Asset is momentarily soothed when he thinks of The Woman’s face, but as the machine is turned on and unspeakable agony is torn from his throat, they make him do the one thing he said he wouldn’t.

They make him break his promise.

Because he forgets.

Steve feels like he owes you.

“You’re good, I’ll give you that much.” He remembers saying the day you met, only months after he came out of the ice, outside his small gym of choice tucked away in a quiet corner of Brooklyn, carrying that punching bag over his shoulder like it was a weightless sack of potatoes. “I’ve barely managed to shake you all day.”

You looked up at him then, out the driver’s seat window of your dark sedan, sipping loudly at a pink smoothie and squinting casually against the golden light of the setting sun behind him. Completely unfazed at having been made, you weren’t even slightly intimidated by his looming stature and, quite frankly, his even larger reputation.

Nor were you particularly disturbed by the fact that you’d probably been watching him throw punches all day, as if all that equipment had personally offended him somehow.

You didn’t even bother tucking away your SHIELD-issued tablet, which you had obviously been using to keep tabs on him. He knew now how easy it must have been for you to hack into the city’s CCTV cameras, let alone the gym’s—all mere child’s play for a spy.

The sun was setting on Agent 19’s first day on Captain America Babysitting Duty, and this was the most you’d seen of each other since sunrise that morning.

“Well, Captain,” you said, shrugging and tossing the tablet onto the passenger seat beside you. “This isn’t my first rodeo.”

There was also an open file lying across the seat, complete with blown-up photos of him, pre- and post-serum, along with a full profile and background check.

“But I didn’t know you resorted to thieving these days,” you gestured at the punching bag on his shoulder. “I do hope you cleaned up after yourself, by the way.”

Steve almost smiled then, recalling the way the punching bag he’d ruined earlier leaked sand all over the floors. He, in fact, hadn’t cleaned up, too much in a hurry to leave your boss behind to bother.

“Like I just told Fury, I don’t need a handler,” he said evenly to keep from grinning. You scoffed then, rolling your eyes so hard he thought they might fall right out of your head.

“No offence, Cap, but do you think I wanted this job? One day in and you’re already a pain in my ass,” you pick up his file, flapping it in the air with frustration, sending papers scattering all over the interior of your car. “Does this sound like a good use of my time to you, when I could be out there kicking the absolute shit out of some bad guys right now?”

“You sound a little resentful, Agent,” Steve deadpanned, turning around to start the short walk back to his apartment before you could reply. He ignored you the rest of the trip, even though you followed closely behind him at a snail’s pace, shouting a string of profanities at him, pissing off every other driver on the road.

Steve lets a brief smile loose at the memory. Neither of you could have known that the relationship you’d come to share—him with his reluctant handler, and you with your equally unwilling charge—would blossom into a friendship unlike any other he’d ever had.

You didn’t appreciate it at first whenever he tagged along on your missions, insisting you didn’t need micromanaging. But over time, you grew accustomed to his quiet presence, admitting at one point that things just didn’t feel right if he wasn’t there watching your six.

He grew fond of your obscure pop culture references that always went over his head, began keeping an eye on you instead of the other way around, given your uncanny knack for getting mixed up into trouble even when you weren’t looking for it.

And he doesn’t even know your name. Not your real one, anyway, but it just didn’t matter. No matter what your real name was, where you really came from, Steve, despite his reservations, grew to love you in a way he wasn’t prepared for.

He’d been an only child, watching on with envy whenever he saw Bucky together with little Rebecca. His best friend’s little sister chased after her brother like he hung the moon, reaching out her tiny hands and only letting out her signature squeal of laughter whenever Bucky reached back.

That kind of love was special. Steve never thought he’d experience anything close to it, but whenever he looks at you, he knew that was what you were—a sister given to him by circumstances, but the one he always knew he wanted.

But when the other shoe dropped, because it always did, the day you both discovered that SHIELD had been compromised, that your lives’ work had been almost for nothing, trust and love was shattered with a single question.

Who are you really, Agent 19?

It never occurred to him to ask before then, but it made some semblance of sense in his angst-filled state. Why else had Alexander Pierce been so insistent, relentless almost, that Steve be assigned a handler in the first place?

But no matter how justified his suspicions might have been, no matter how far he felt his heart sink when he learned that the traitor was, in fact, your longtime partner and not you yourself, the choice had already been made.

Whatever light that had remained in your eyes went out that day, and Steve couldn’t seem to bring it back, no matter how many times he tried to restore the friendship to what it was. He carried the broken shards of what remained in his hands, spirits falling each time you silently rebuffed him with that forlorn look in your eyes.

The good humour and affection between you dissipated like smoke, and now whenever you spoke the words were always terse, charged, and angry. Steve knew how much he fucked up, because it was clear from the moment his question left his lips that you hadn’t known the answer, either.

And now you’re teetering over the edge of life and death, and once again, Steve isn’t there. Natasha steps up behind him and places a hand on his shoulder, prompting him to ease his knuckle-white grip on the quinjet’s yoke, her own distress evident in her normally stoic features.

His leather gloves are still splattered with blood. The rest of the team didn’t protest, or didn’t dare protest, as he instructed Clint to pilot the jet back towards the Hydra base he had singlehandedly sent you to. With military-like efficiency, Steve took down that base and every last agent that stood in his way—unforgiving and vengeful—despite Sam’s attempts at calming him.

But it is what they found on those computers that haunt him, that haunt them all. Natasha stares straight ahead, but the way her eyes shine in the moonlight belies her grief.

Wanda sits in one of the seats behind him, chin wobbling as she closes her eyes against a fresh wave of tears, remembering the sounds of your horrible screams, captured on video and morbidly saved in Hydra’s digital archives for years.

Sam and Clint hunch over in their own seats in an uncomfortable yet pensive silence. Tony taps an impatient foot against the floor, brows knitted together in concentration. The entire team struggles to grapple with a startling and devastating conclusion.

This whole time, you and Bucky were tied together, but you were the only one who was burdened to remember.

Steve swallows the lump of emotion that forms in his throat, suddenly feeling the urge to just bawl into his hands.

In hindsight, it all makes sense. The thinly veiled shock when Steve brought Bucky back to the Compound. The way you used to look at him, as if you were both unspeakably angry and horribly miserable. The way you reacted to his reassignment. The distance you were determined to maintain between you.

The decision to ask Helen Cho to use the Regeneration Cradle to eliminate those scars. You used to wear them like a badge of honour, a sign of your undying loyalty to your best friend. But the second Bucky had come around, you wanted them gone.

All of it made sense now.

Natasha finally breaks down, as if coming to the same realizations, turning away to storm off to the back of the jet where she clearly hoped nobody would pay attention to her muffled sobs.

Steve bites down on the inside of his cheek, wondering how much Hydra was going to take before they were satisfied. Better question, how much more was Steve willing to let them take? The answer was none. No more. Not on his watch.

And if he couldn’t convince you using his words that he trusted you, that he regretted ever doubting you in the first place, then he’d show you in a different way.

He’d entrust you with a new mission so important that you wouldn’t possibly be able to draw any other conclusion. He would give you Bucky, his best friend, who may as well have been his very heart personified, and leave him in your very capable hands.

Steve lets out a humourless laugh. He didn’t have to give you anything; turns out, Bucky had been yours for a long time now.

But at the very least, he would see to it that you remembered one very important detail: that despite your unknown origins, your past with the KGB, despite Aiden Galloway, despite Hydra, despite all of it—you are loved, important, and irreplaceable.

All you had to do was stay alive.

Agent Galloway has one hand pressed to a wound just below his ribcage, warm blood seeping out from between his fingers. He’s got even more injuries, each just as devastating as the next, but he doesn’t have enough hands for them all.

You watch as the floor beneath him is stained with a slowly growing pool of crimson, but you make no move to help him.

You’re the one who shot him, after all.

Your ears are ringing from the ongoing sounds of gunfire and explosions, the walls of the Triskelion coming down around you in dust and cinders. You slump against a nearby wall that’s miraculously still intact, your right hand still loosely clutching your firearm. You’re not seriously wounded, but you’re exhausted all the same.

“Come in, Agent! Come in!” Natasha’s voice crackles over your earpiece, desperate and angry, maybe even a little scared. The Black Widow you fight alongside with in the field never shows any fear, any hesitation, but today she’s not an agent—neither are you.

She is just Natasha Romanoff today, your scaredy cat big sister who hides behind an armour of indifference and stoicism. But you know better; she’s got the biggest heart of all.

“Hill! Do you have eyes on 19?” She yells over the sounds of a whirring helicopter, but you can still hear the panic in her voice.

“Negative!” Maria Hill responds over the distant roar of another explosion, and even she sounds a little frantic. Aw. Is that sentiment you hear in the spy’s voice? “Agent 19, can you hear me?”

You want to respond, make a snarky little comment about how they’re both going soft, but something prevents your voice from working. Emotion lodges itself in your throat as you slide to the floor, burning behind your eyes as you squeeze them shut against the pain, stemming from your physical wounds and countless others that can’t be seen.

You won’t die here, not at the hands of Hydra, the damn parasites. Steve is taking down the helicarriers now, and you have no doubt he will succeed. After that, Sam will likely come find you and pull you from the wreckage with Natasha in tow. You’ll listen to her lecture all the way to the hospital, just like old times.

Your friends will come… won’t they?

Natasha has saved you more times than you can count, but you can’t help the doubt that creeps in, dark and quiet just like the first hints of fear. Will she wonder about you too, once they find out that the formerly-decorated SHIELD agent Aiden Galloway—your friend, your mentor, your partner, your brother-in-arms—is dirty?

Will an everlasting cloud of suspicion hang over your head even if you emerge from this, alive but not unscathed? Even Steve had doubted you once. Does he still? Will you ever know for sure?

“How does it feel?” Galloway rasps at you, flashing a morbid smile as his death approaches. It’s not fast enough for you, unfortunately, as you listen to his deathbed confession. “To know that all of it was a lie?”

You hate to give him the satisfaction, but your face distorts with anguish all the same as he twists the proverbial knife, one last time.

Being an agent wasn’t just a title. It was a privilege for someone like you, who had come from unknown origins, who defected to SHIELD without even a name of her own, who once spent years of her life either being locked up or trained to spread calamity and discord.

But all this time, what were you even fighting for? You thought you were finally standing on the right side of history, but it wasn’t true, was it? You weren’t, in fact, a noble agent of SHIELD. You were just another unwitting Hydra pawn all along.

All those battles fought in the name of good and justice, all those comrades lost over the years, and for what? For a world that quite frankly asked too much and gave too little in return.

What had this world ever done for you, other than punish you for simply being born?

“You won’t win,” you bite out vindictively, adrenaline melting out of your veins with every breath. “Men like you never do.”

“The Asset won’t let us down,” Aiden laughs. He actually laughs, the motherfucker. “You remember him, don’t you?”

Your heart splits, a fresh wave of pain washing over you. The memories come flooding back: blue eyes peering at you over the edge of a mask—a black muzzle for a boy taken, kept like a prisoner, and then used like a piece of machinery; the warmth of his palm against yours in that freezing cold dungeon; and the sacrifice he’d made so you and Natasha could escape.

He had been alive all this time, all alone, not knowing that people out there remembered him, thought about him, and cared about him.

You can’t help but think of Steve, every stricken look on the rare occasion he deigned to speak about his childhood friend, as if reliving an eighty-year-old nightmare.

Your force your eyes open. This Aiden Galloway before you is a stranger, because the one you knew, the one you had grown to love like a brother, could never be so cruel. He took you under his wing when you first arrived, showing you the ropes and teaching you everything you knew about being a good agent.

He’d done wonders too; soon, you were working in Fury’s division with the revered likes of Natasha, Maria, and the famous Clint Barton.

So why?

Galloway had pulled you out of more scrapes than you could remember during your first missions as a reckless rookie agent. He had covered for your mistakes, took scoldings and official reprimands in your place with a carefree smile. He had taken literal bullets for you. He had bled in your stead.

If this was always Hydra’s endgame, then why bother saving you at all? Why not just let you die out there somewhere, blaming it on literally anything and anyone else but himself? Why couldn’t he just kill you before the seeds of affection could ever blossom?

Why pretend to care about you at all?

It’s stunning that the existence of cruelty, plain and simple, still manages to surprise you. You’d think that, after all this time, after everything you’ve seen and everything you’ve suffered, you’d come to expect it at every corner… or at least get better at spotting it.

Well.

You won’t make the same mistake again.

Summoning every ounce of strength, you lift your gun. You’ve handled this weapon hundreds of times, used it to end countless lives before today and will likely continue to do so after, but today it feels oddly heavy in your hand.

Ending a life never comes easy, no matter how many times you do it or which side of history you stand on, but you already know that this particular kill is one that won’t ever leave you.

You take aim, your finger steady on the trigger. Just like Aiden taught you. He won’t last much longer anyhow, given how much blood he’s already lost, but you have to remind yourself that this isn’t an act of mercy. It’s an act of retribution, one he most definitely deserves.

You wonder, if you repeat it to yourself enough times, will you come to believe your own words?

Aiden grins, a ruby-red smile that sears itself in your mind and stays with you long after he’s gone. The bastard just has to get in the last word, and even as his eyes glaze over, two words reach into the smoke and haunt your dreams.

“Hail Hydra.”

Your eyes snap open, your lungs drawing in a sharp gasp of a breath.

For a disorienting heartbeat, you’re lost in time, trying to claw your way out of the clutches of a persistent nightmare, and blinking rapidly against the stark reality of consciousness.

A sheen of cold sweat clings to your brow, your skin prickling and clammy under a heavy quilt as you try to sit up.

You regret it instantly, a searing pain shooting up and down your body, every muscle protesting the movement. The walls of a rustic cabin materialize slowly around you like a developing polaroid, and suddenly you remember.

The safe house. You had entered its coordinates on your jet just before it crashed about a mile away. You didn’t think you’d make it, growing dizzy with pain and blood loss before eventually collapsing in the snow.

The room is brightly-lit by a flickering fire, where a log pops loudly and sparks jumping up before disappearing again onto the stone hearth. You take deep breaths to try and calm your frenzied heart, tasting the fresh sharp scent of pine and sweet bread on your tongue.

Your pulse begins to settle back into a less frantic rhythm, the weight of the quilt lain on top of you comforting and warm… until you look up and see a snowy white cat perched on top of the bedside table. You startle, wincing in pain as your feline guardian peers at you curiously with beautiful blue eyes.

It reminds you of—

“Hey,” comes a voice, gravelly with sleep and something akin to worry. He’s close, so close you wonder how you didn’t sense his presence before now, his eyes the familiar colour of arctic ice. Those eyes have never left your thoughts, it occurs to you now, reluctant to release you from their grasp.

You feel your muscles tense at the sight of him, the quilt’s fabric bunching in your fists as you grip the edges tighter. Your tac-suit is gone, you suddenly realize, and you’re lying naked in a bed that Bucky Barnes usually sleeps in.

“You’re probably still mad,” Bucky says, his voice so quiet you almost have to lean in to hear him despite your closeness. “But I just…”

He trails off and for a moment, he just stares at you like he can’t believe you’re here. Then, in the fire’s glow, you’re suddenly pressed into his chest by a pair of powerful arms, so gently as if he’s handling the most precious thing in the world.

You’re not mad, you think but don’t say. You never were. Not at him, anyway. You can’t tell him why; the only problem with this frustratingly beautiful man is that he only ever blames himself, even if he’s done nothing wrong.

Even when you’re the one who is broken and unworthy.

There is a reason for the distance you’ve steadily kept, but as you hear his astounded and shaky whispers of you’re alive, thank god you’re alive in your ear, you allow yourself a minute.

One minute in which you’re allowed to feel—the ache, the yearning, and the fragments of a heart you gave away a long time ago and never got back.

« Chapter 2 || Chapter 4 »

Taglist — @cjand10 @pbs-theundeadmaggot @nerdreader Please leave a comment or send me a DM if you’d like to be added to the taglist for this story. Note that if you ask and you are a blank blog, I will block you instead.

Notes — For what it’s worth, I really am sorry for what I’m putting these two through. Did you guys know that this idea was originally conceived as a five-chapter romantic comedy lmao?! Also, the fluff is coming in future chapters—I promise. Everyone just has to suffer a lot a bit first because evidently I’m a sadist, lmao.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes x you #summer’s fics

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redsaurrce · 2 years

Text

BTS MAFIA REACTIONS TO YOU LEAVING THEM

(Yandere hyung edition)

Warnings: YANDERE CONTENT, SLIGHT SMUT, MENTIONS OF MAKING OUT, GUN, WEAPON, INJURY, BETRAYAL, HUMILIATION, KISSING, PROFANITY, UNHEALTHY OBSESSION.

Enjoy ♡

𝕵𝖎𝖓 ❗

• He was away on an emergency mission.

• He initially had taken you hostage because you were the enemy mafia leader's daughter.

• He would normally kill his hostages if the demands were not fulfilled.

• That would've been your fate as well.

• But he saw a hint of madness in your eyes while your hands were tied at your back in the chair.

• He was amused with the show you were putting on.

• When he lowered his head to look at you at eye-to-eye level, you spat on him out of spite.

• He chuckled while wiping the spit off his face with a handkerchief.

• He grabbed your hair and made you look up.

• While he scanned your face in rage, you looked at him fiercely.

• He smirked and released your hair.

• For a moment he felt enchanted by you, something strange stirred inside him.

• "Give her nice clothes and send her to my room tonight before I come back." He ordered his men.

• Right now it was dark and you were running away in your bare feet when you got the chance to secretly escape.

• When you took a turn inside the jungle, your eyes went wide at the people standing in front of you with Jin in the center with his arms folded.

• "Dear oh dear! You really ran fast like a deer." He said mockingly with a cocked eyebrow.

• You gulped and turned to another side but there were already men present.

• You were totally surrounded.

• But you were not willing to give up just yet until-

• "Please go to him my daughter!" You heard your father's crying voice.

• You turned back to look at Jin where your father was dragged out by his men from his behind.

• Your eyes stung with tears, you hoped so eagerly to see your father, to see him come to your rescue.

• You even went lengths to escape just to unite with him.

• But now your father told you to stay with them! Your father, among everyone else??

• Your felt a lump in your throat and suddenly you remembered the words Jin had whispered in your ears, "No one cares for you baby, not even your father. The only person who'd care for you is me darling."

𝖄𝖔𝖔𝖓𝖌𝖎 ❗

• You were working under the black X mafia gang as their armorer.

• Recently Yoongi has been keeping you close to him than other weapon handlers- way too close actually.

• So close that when your gang would return after completing the tasks, he would reward you by being intimate with you.

• Did you like it? Yeah he was good at it but still, you didn’t like him touching you that way or him being possessive.

• Because he was damn possessive, he wouldn't even allow you to leave his room without his consent.

• You were a smart person so you knew that asking for your resignation from him wouldn't end good judging by his obsession with you.

• No! You've had enough of his shenanigans.

• You needed to escape.

• And so you packed your bag with enough weapons and jumped from the wall behind the building.

• Shit! The men noticed you. You ran with all your might but fucking hell they were really fast.

• You thought of using the gun you had in your pocket.

• But just then they started to fire giving you no time to turn and shoot.

• Fuck! A bullet pierced through your left leg making you scream.

• You started limp-running in pain.

• Suddenly you heard a gun shot, it definitely killed a person but neither were you the receiver nor were you the shooter. The firing had stopped.

• A voice boom throughout the open area, "FUCKING DROP YOUR GUNS ASSHOLES!"

• You knew that voice very well. It was him.

• You tried to increase your pace as you felt someone was getting closer to you.

• A hand grabbed your arm and you flinched in fright.

• "Baby were you really running away? Tell me you weren't, right?" He said in worried a tone and hugged you.

• In his hug he felt something cold touch his chest.

• It was a gun.

• You had a gun placed on his chest.

He broke the hug and looked at the gun then at you.

• "Yoongi let me go or I will shoot you." You said as your eyes reddened.

• He chuckled as he tilted his head. "My little bird has grown up so much." He kissed you on the forehead and you thrusted the gun deeper in his chest.

• He said, "No need to put up a bold front baby, I know you love me too otherwise I would've been dead by now with the gun in your hand."

• You wanted to scoff in his face.

• But before you could press the trigger, he carotid slapped in your neck making you lose your conscience in an instant.

• You fell in his arms and he carried you up like a bride.

• He whispered, "Too bad I can't punish you tonight because of your leg baby, that bastard died for good."

𝕳𝖔𝖘𝖊𝖔𝖐❗

• At first you and him only shared the relationship of a sugar daddy and a sugar baby.

• It was good, he was getting relieved from stress by your acquaintance while you were getting relived by paying your bills from his money.

• This went for quite a time until you saw his true identity as a mafia.

• Ever since you saw him shoot guns and saw his men getting shot by others outside the hotel you both would make out in, that scene had traumatized you.

• Were you associating yourself with a criminal? No no no that can't happen.

• You were just a college student trying to survive every day somehow.

• You never imagined you would be making out with someone who kills people.

• What if he kills you too someday if he was done using you?

• You shook your head at the thought.. no, you needed to cut ties with him asap.

• And so you did, you changed your number and even moved to another place. Moving would have taken a toll on you but thanks to Hoseok's money, you didn't find moving a pain in the ass this time.

• You remember telling him about your address and nothing else because when he asked more about you, you had refused saying he should share his information as well.

• It was a give and take of information. But he never gave by saying, "I'll tell you when the time comes, I will even take you there someday."

• You were thankful to your past self for not egging him more for knowing much about him because you would have needed to change your university too if he knew.

• But to your horror when you exited your university to go to your car parked in the underground parking lot, he was standing in front of your car, the car you had bought from his money.

• Your face grew pale.

• He tsked, "Baby I gave a better car as your birthday gift, why are you driving this?" He looked at the car with a sour expression.

• Yeah the car he had gifted you was much more expensive and flashy but you couldn't be stupid enough to drive it around.

• What if he had installed GPS in that? You could have been easily tracked down.

• You clutched the straps of your bag tightly. "I have nothing to do with you. Please leave." You said with all of your will power.

• He chuckled, "I didn't come here to leave babygirl, though we are leaving together. Remember the day I had told you that when time comes I'll take you to my place? Today's the right day for it. Boys!" He grinned as he gestured something with his fingers while he put on a mask.

• And before you could run away, a smoke gas erupted and surrounded you, making you drop to ground unconscious in an instant.

𝕹𝖆𝖒𝖏𝖔𝖔𝖓❗

• You were the top spy in your gang which earned you nice facilities like no one else had.

• Better pay, better stay, better everything. Even better sex, with your gang's leader on top of that.

• You would too engage yourself with Namjoon the best way you could.

• Ugh! He loved you so much, he would do anything for you.

• Whenever you both used to look in each other's eyes during close proximity in the bed, you could see affection overflowing in his eyes while you don't know what sees in yours.

• Because you had no love for him. The only thing you felt was guilt.

• Just like you were feeling it right now as you were leaving from the back of his room by sliding down a rope.

• You were leaving to sell your gang's inside information to your rival gang.

• Actually you have done this several times before but today you were leaving for good.

• When you climbed down successfully and turned to head out, you saw Namjoon standing there casually as if he was waiting for you to show up.

• You started breathing faster out of nervousness as he approached you.

• You blinked and looked at your left to run.

• But Namjoon quickly came and blocked your way with his arms as he trapped you between the wall behind and him at your front.

• "Y/N I can't believe you were going to betray after all that I've done for you." He said with a pathetic expression.

• You gulped, how did he get to know this? You made sure to never let him get the slightest bit of hint.

• Then he leaned closer and spoke, "Y/N, you know right what we do with the bad guys?" He said turning towards your ear and his mint breath tickled the skin of your neck.

• Your lips quivered, "w-we beat the-them to death." With every word you spoke, you felt like your soul was about to abandon your body.

• He smirked and then removed his face and looked at you, his lips mere centimeters away from yours.

• "And what do we do with the traitors?" He asked you, emphasizing on each and every word.

• With his face so close and his aura so threatening, you felt like you were going to black out any second. "We-we maul them t-to death." You spoke with much difficulty.

• He hummed in agreement and then attached his lips with your lips, within the next moment he was devouring your mouth like an animal as if he was hungry for your kiss since ages.

• He grabbed your ass and pulled you up the wall and started lapping at your cunt.

• He said, "But baby you are special to me, I will spare you this time if you obey your master and promise you will never leave again."

• "I-i promise." You bit your tongue to not let out a loud scream as he bit your pussy.

• He smirked, "Good girl."

• Oh well, he knew you were betraying him all the way long, so he kept feeding you with information which was actually not true. He would share you his false plans while he slept next to you, knowing that you were going to tell all of that bullshit to the rival gang.

• When you were busy having pleasure with him, he was busy inserting micro audio devices in your intimate parts, so whenever you had the conversation with the rivals, he could crystal clearly hear you and their plans.

• Thus technically the one you were betraying was not him but them. But today he couldn't let you go since you would be leaving him forever. He would never let that happen.

• Never.

Yeah big mouth watchers ik u have caught on the dialogue in namjoon's part haha!

Tysm for reading ♡

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iambicpentameterhamster · 1 month

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Every umbrella academy character ranked

Prior to Season 4 coming this year, thought I'd share my character rank with you for the first 3 seasons all together. (Spoilers ahead)

#33- Marcus, Jayme, Alphonso and Fei

Painfully insignificant and underdeveloped. Their only character traits being "spoiled and a bit evil" made them EXTREMELY captivating villians...

#32- Christopher

Only higher because I find the idea of someone carrying around a cube on a stick onset really funny.

#31- Sparrow Ben

Hard to watch honestly, especially in comparison to his lovely counterpart Umbrella Ben.

In general, the Sparrows were terrible and pointless characters, and clearly the writers knew this because most were killed off pretty quickly. All except for Sparrow Ben, which just meant we had to suffer watching him for even longer.

#30- Viktor

This is a controversial choice. He is tolerable in season 1, but then just becomes a moochy emo sod who is boring to watch. I don't know if it's the acting, script or both, but he’s just such a meek and flavourless character who is PARTICULARLY bad in season 3 when he jeopardises his whole family and is repeatedly selfish and has a victim complex.

#29- Luther

He caused the apocalypse in season one and you can't convince me otherwise. Got some alamaba shit going on with Allison...

There are so many reasons I hate Luther. He's a self-centred man child who couldn't care less about his siblings and their feelings, showing zero empathy to Klaus or Vanya, for example. He only shows respect and kindness when he is attracted to the person (As shown when seasons 1 and 2 he is only nice to Allison, then completely ignores her when he moves on to Sloane) or when they pose as an authority figure to him. All he does is whine and feel sorry for himself.

What's that? You lived in the apocalypse all alone for 40 years? You are addicted to drugs and lost the love of your life in a war? You have a power you can't control and a lifetime of rejection? WELL LUTHER WENT TO THE MOON

#28- Carl Cooper

Hated him as a character but he was a menacing villian which I can respect

#27- Harlan

Couldn't care less about him, only there for plot convenience and Victor's arc pretty much

#26- Sloane

An improvement from Luther's literal sibling. Further evidence that Luther will simply fall for any woman who gives a flying fuck about the moon.

Personality: attracted to Luther

#25- Pogo

Basil exposition of the first series

#24- Detective Patch

Barely remember her

#23- The Swedes

They were kind of goofy as villians but there was some good acting and they posed a real threat. Cute moments with the cats. In general, alright, but they could have easily been replaced plot wise with something more interesting.

#22- Cha Cha

Lack of character development for me. I think she deserved to be fleshed out more, I don't think it's fair that only her partner got to be a three-dimensional being. What are her motivations? Who is she underneath it all?

But overall i liked the acting and she was a good villian.

#21- That hotel worker from season 3

He's barely a character but I liked his sass so he's on the list.

#20- Reggie (Reginald Hargreeves)

He is supposed to be the main antagonist/villian of the show, yet The Handler stole his spotlight. He's a bit too stereotypically evil and asshole-ish for me, basically twiddling his moustache and stroking a cat in a dark corner the entire show. The delivery is too blunt and that doesn't help to build the tension and mystery surrounding him as much, but if he were more complicated and cryptic in his personality it would be more effective.

This is very nit picky and overall Reggie is fine. He has some hilarious moments with Klaus in season 3 and I am genuinely intrigued about the unanswered questions surrounding him.

#19- Elliott

He wasn't a particularly important or central character but I enjoyed it when he was on screen and he played his role convincingly. He was a good comic relief in some scenes, and when he died (spoiler alert) the reactions from other characters were realistic and quite impactful. I felt for him throughout, which is impressive for less significant characters and he had a lot of depth relative to the size of his role.

#18- Destiny's children

Not a singular character, but I LOVED Destiny's children. It fit Klaus's character perfectly to have a cult and led to some of the funnies moments in the series.

#17- Dave

From the very limited moments we see with this character, a lot of personality and emotion was communicated, and I feel like we got a big sense of the character. That is down to the brilliant acting from both of Dave's actors and from Robert Sheehan that really sold this character with so little screen time.

Anyway please come back to life Dave! Death doesn't look good on you!

#16- Agnes (Donut woman)

Very sweet and I wish her all the best in life.

#15- Sissy

BRILLIANTLY acted and impactful. Stole every scene between her and Vanya.

Also, she looks EXACTLY like Sheldon's mum in young sheldon...

#14- Herb and Dot

I want to put them both in my pocket and protect them from harm.

#13- Kenny's mum

Again, barely present but I love her. She's a queen. I would go to a rave with Kenny's Mum.

#12- Stan

I love Stan, and he's a big part of Diego and Lila's character development and motivations. I hope they adopt Stan and live happily ever after.

But yeah, great one-liners from Stan.

#11- Grace

Very well acted and haunting.

Top 10 *drumroll please*

#10- Harold Jenkins (Lenoard Peabody)

Again, quite a controversial placement, but I stand by my decision. The acting and delivery of Harold Jenkins as a villain is possibly the best in the whole show. I was totally convinced Lenoard was a nice guy and I was rooting for him and Vanya, until he started dropping hints and slowly revealing his true self and losing the facade and its... it's chefs kiss. So realistic. The actor deserves an award and a standing ovation.

The writers also deserve a pat on the back for this one because he has a convincing motivation and backstory, and the dialogue is DELICIOUS when it comes to Lenoard. He is a truly menacing villain without being overtly scary and powerful and dangerous.

#9- Ray

Charismatic, gentlemanly, empathetic, loving, trusting, supportive... Ray is THE IDEAL MAN. I'm a little bit in love with Ray so I don't blame Allison.

HUGE step up from Luther, for sure.

#8- Umbrella Ben

I would have liked to see more of his character, but I liked what I did see. He loves his siblings and shows it. He is selfless and sacrifices his own existence for Vanya, he is blunt with Klaus because he cares and wants him to improve. Of course, he and Klaus are also a hilarious duo.

#7- Hazel

One of the most touching arcs that offers an insightful message about what life is for, and about Love. Beautifully acted, a very real and lovable character who probably resonates with many in some ways. Hazel is adorable and i miss him in later seasons.

#6- The Handler

I LOVE THE HANDLER MORE THAN WORDS CAN EXPLAIN!!! Funny, playful, entertaining, uexpected and whimsical and yet simultaneously dark and menacing, AMAZING villian that stole EVERY SINGLE SCENE she was in. Kate Walsh was the perfect choice for the role and she played it to perfection.

A bit of trivia about the role, The Handler was originally written for a man, and when Kate Walsh got the role she insisted they didn't change the script (which, let's be honest, they would have.) She put a wonderful spin on it and it's just perfect, I wouldn't change a thing. I would 100% watch a spinoff all about the handler. Season 3 was worse than the previous two thanks to them killing her off (amongst other questionable plot choices)

#5- Allison

Allison was the only character who knew what they were doing, and honestly, if everyone just listened to Allison, there would be no apocalypse. Her storyline losing both Claire and Ray and her powers driving her crazy with power breaks my heart but is well portrayed and impactful.

She's charismatic, clever, strong, and kind. I love Allison and I think most of us do.

#4- Diego

He's stupid but in an endearing way, I find him to be so entertaining and funny, and the actor's face is like an open book. He's not show-stopping but his consistent presence just sets the mood and allows others to act off of him, while he really sells it with his expressions. He's like the rock of the show.

#3- Lila

Lila. Mi amor. Mon amour. Amore mio. Meine Leibe.

#2- Five

For several reasons:

A) He is the daddy here, Luther!!

B) That should be the only reason you need

Seriously, though, I was SUPER impressed with Aidan Gallagher and his incredible screen presence, especially at such a young age. He really embodies the character. Five is the face of the Umbrella Acadamy, and is undoubtedly the most iconic character. 10/10, two thumbs up, absolutely BRILLIANT.

#1- Klaus

No justification necessary.

#the umbrella academy #klaus hargreeves #diego hargreeves #five hargreeves #reginald hargreeves #allison hargreeves #lila pitts #ben hargreeves #luther hargreeves #vanya hargreeves #viktor hargreeves #raymond chestnut #the handler #the sparrow academy

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plutopitou · 9 months

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Frosting ~ keigo takami x reader

Your boyfriend, the number two hero, is a good man. He’s kind enough to spare the innocent if he can take out that frustration on your pretty self.

warnings: throatfucking again oops, daddy kink, degradation, slapping, he’s an asshole in this but he makes u wet i dont make the rules MDNI

Gagging on your knees wasn’t in your plan for the night before Keigo’s birthday.

Takami Keigo is a good man.

He arrived home unexpectedly.

Your head snaps at the slam of the door to see his tired body, eyebrows tensely pulled together as he lazily pulls off his gloves. His jacket littered with smears of dirt and his golden soft hair a little more ruffled than when he left.

More importantly, he arrived with a tinge of something different in his demeanor, something more.. threatening.

You rush over pulling off his heavy leather coat, greeting him as your hang it up for him swiftly. You stand off by the door fiddling with your fingers in sudden anxiety, watching his every move.

He was irritated.

“Come here.”

Immediately you pace to his side in the messy kitchen, decorated with fallen flour and dirty bowls stained with pink frosting and cake mix residue.

Keigo is leaning over the counter, rubbing his forehead in frustration.

“What did I tell you about the messes you make, baby?”

He doesn’t even look in your direction as he continues to stare forward with a blank look on his face, dragging his hand along his cheek and tense jaw in aggrivation.

Your stomach churned.

“I was going to clean it up-“

Words are left unsaid as your head snaps to the side, filling with a stinging sensation. Tears bubble beneath your lashes, you wanted him to know you were going to be good like he wished and clean up after yourself.

“Y’know all the shit I had to deal with today?” He mutters rhetorically. “Dumbasses trying to rob some phones, villains tryin to blow up a highway,” After every word listed, he sets you up to make one more mess of the day. “..the commission.”

You can feel the bruises forming being pushed on your knees with an ache on the crown of your head from Keigo’s harsh grip.

“Baby, you’re supposed to be the one to not cause any problems, remember?” The accusatory tone in his voice is enough to make your lip tremble and eyes leak in shame, you must make it up to him.

“Now you’re gonna let me take it out on you, right?” Your mind is on autopilot. Nodding as you rustle to unbuckle his pants, eager to fill your mouth with cock and make up for your stupid wrongdoings. To let Keigo use your throat like a personal bitch until his night is better.

It’s like he always said: you’re special because you let him take out his frustrations on you instead of letting him redirect it elsewhere.

Your boyfriend is a good man, he is good to you.

He lets you adjust to his thick cock, carefully letting you slick him up, right before he cups your silky soft throat and pushes your head right up to his pelvic. The sounds of your gagging fuel his arousel as he holds the back of your head till he can’t take no more, taking breaks to let you breathe then swiftly take your breath away again.

“You wanna make so many messes you gotta be the one to clean it up..”

The aching sting on your cheek has long past, focusing on your leaking pussy from the compromising situation you found yourself in from the hands of your handler.

You cleaned up every string of precum leaking from his cock before forcing yourself to take it to the brim. His choked gasps send kisses to your wet pussy as he sensitivity heightens, orgasm drawing near.

“You’re gonna let me come on your face, right? Hm?” He coos, rubbing your cheek of stray tears as you continue to bob yourself on his hard dick.

You give a strained hum, letting Keigo spit out profanities and lewd accusations to your vulnerable position.

Every rough thrust into your mouth was an direct hit at every annoyance in his day; it was all going to be taken out on you. And God, you’d just let him

Keigo holds his release back, relishing in the feeling of your throat squelching with saliva trying to push him out as he rams back in.

You panic as he pinches your nose; no access to air, you hit his thighs in signal you can’t breathe.

“Fuck..”

Air fills back into your lungs as he pulls out, immediately pumping his angry red cock to spurt shots of cum with the strings of saliva messily on your face. He gasps, his abs flexing to make you as vulgar as possible.

The silence is loud as you both take a minute to catch your breath, looking up at his lean body wiping his sheen forehead. There isn’t a word released from his mouth to you.

You waste no time for your apology. “I’m really sorry, Daddy..” You whisper on your knees in humiliation.

Keigo pushes back his hair, sighing in exasperation.

He doesn’t accept your apology.

Instead quirking an eyebrow at you, lazily pointing to the still messy kitchen. “Make sure you clean all this shit up.” He says uncaring, before walking away to the shower.

You hear the door to the bathroom slam and the water turn on.

Your mind and body are still hazy as you lift yourself off the floor

You open the fridge and blankly stare.

Would he still appreciate the little cake you made for him?

This was made so quickly i love rotting this man with obscene traits he’s literally such a sweetheart, just has a bit of mommy and daddy issues ~ reposted with more content

#boku no academia #bnha #bnha fic #bnha smut #bnha angst #my hero academia #keigo takami #keigo takami x y/n #keigo takami x you #keigo takami x reader #yandere keigo takami #yandere blog #tw.manipulation #tw.dubcon #pitou.writes #pitou.fics

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cod-dump · 6 months

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hi! I feel a little bit bad for asking since you JUST posted "Time" (the monster handler AU), but would you mind giving any HCs/details about the verse? Like (if you need ideas):

assuming the insectoid is Roach, what're his abilities?

what is demon!Ghost's personality?

what eras are Soap & Gaz originally from?

what event led to Price summoning Ghost?

also: the moment I read that Nik was some kind of lycan, the term "bear" came to mind 😅 anyway, I always love your drabbles/ficlets! It's like getting a new episode of my favorite show! Have a great weekend...oh & what kind of monster would YOU want to be?

I don’t mind at all! I have been wanting to talk about it :)

———

Roach is indeed an insectoid! His face is mostly human but he still covers up to hide it from everyone. He doesn’t think he’s ugly or anything (some have described his face “moth-like” with ant antenna) he just had too many run-ins with people who are deathly afraid of bugs.

• He has regenerative abilities (if he loses an arm it will grow back the next time he molts). But if more serious damage is done to something like his head or chest, he won’t be able to recover from that.

• Roach has venom (it paralyzes whoever he bites but if he injects too much it can cause lasting damage to their nerves). Roach has accidentally made someone permanently lose all feeling and function in everything below their waist. Now he’s very careful when using his venom.

• He can stay underwater up to twenty-four hours before he needs to get air (this is helpful since he isn’t a very good swimmer)

• Roach is pretty strong. Not fifty times his own body weight strong but more like twenty (he has picked up a couple teammates and ran because they were in danger and the assholes weren’t listening to him).

• Roach loves sweets. He’ll eat anything without complaint (he’s eaten rotten carcasses before) but sweets are his absolute favorite.

• And, last of all, Roach can communicate and control some insects or creepy crawlies! He’s like the ultimate bug queen (don’t call him that). Flies, ants, roaches— They all listen to him. Bugs also tend to stick around him (he attracts them).

Ghost more or less the same. Though everyone questions if he genuinely cares about his team and the people he works with or if it’s just a ploy. He mostly sticks around Price (for obvious reasons) but he does venture out on his own (no one knows what he does). He’s good at hiding that he’s a demon and people tend to only find out when someone tells them. Ghost never likes revealing what he is to people unless the absolutely have to know (it causes distrust and that isn’t good for missions).

Soap is much older than Gaz and follows the old vampire laws. Cannot enter a privately owned building without verbal permission, contact with sunlight is almost always lethal, can’t tolerate garlic, can’t eat human food without projectile vomiting— all the things people know vampires for. His much older bloodline is the cause for him having to follow these strict laws (and he’s miserable because of it). Soap was turned against his will centuries ago in Scotland around 1300 (where he was born) by a woman that was supposed to be his bride. He’s long cut contact with her, not agreeing with her idea of changing him so they could be together forever.

Gaz is much, much younger than Soap. He was born shortly after WWII ended in England and was turned around 1963. He says he was turned unwillingly by vampire who he would later kill. This act should have cured him of his vampirism but he remained a vampire (it is uncertain why). Because of Gaz’s bloodline, he doesn’t have to follow the old vampire laws (sometimes he does so in a mocking/teasing way).

Price summoned Ghost years ago after his captain was brutally tortured and murdered by an organization that would later be revealed to be lead by Vladimir Makarov, a descendant of what people believe to be Dracula himself (though Dracula is more or less a over hyped vampire that many agree wasn’t the strongest or even a well liked vampire).

Price knew that he, as a simple human, wouldn’t be able to stand a chance against Makarov so he made a spur of the moment decision to find a way to fight him. One dug up corpse and ritual later (which resulted in the Zaragoza Drug Cartel in being massacred), Price would summon a demon that he would later name Ghost. This all happened before he met Laswell or Nik, of course.

If he had something in his life worth keeping, someone to care for or look out for him, he wouldn’t have sold his soul. But he was young, upset over his captain’s death, and he wanted to do something about it. Dwelling on it won’t change anything, so Price has just accepted that Ghost will someday eat his soul.

Until then, they have work to do.

Yes, Nik is a bear-like lycan. He has blond fur with dark roots which led to Price nicknaming him ‘Blondie’. Considering Nik’s human form has black hair, no one gets why Price calls him that (until they see Nik turn, that is).

Dragon. Dragon anything, really. Fucking love dragons omg-

#another monster au #things to know #call of duty #cod mwii #modern warfare ii #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #john price #kyle gaz garrick #cod nikolai #drabble #ask #thanks for the ask <3 #monster au

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scoobydoodean · 3 months

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Obsessed with Dean and Cas's discussion in the opening of 5.03. The last time they saw each other, in the beginning of 5.02, they fought. Dean said Cas's plan to find God was a pipe dream which made Cas mad, and then Cas blamed Dean for the apocalypse and everything wrong with his life. That's the largest reason why Dean is so irritable when Cas shows up (and I don't doubt the blaming reminded him of his brother).

Another is Cas's lack of boundaries, which are on full display in this scene. Cas shows up unannounced. He scares the shit out of Dean by appearing right behind Dean, in a bathroom mirror (the bathroom being the room where people expect privacy the most). He's standing way too close. After Dean agrees to help him, Cas immediately reaches out two fingers toward him, planning to fly him away without a word.

This is exactly how Cas behaved last season, when he was Dean's handler. He and Uriel would appear in Sam and Dean's motel rooms whenever they liked (4.03, 4.07, 4.16), even when Dean was desperate for sleep (4.16) with demands that Dean help them. They would fly Dean places without his say so (4.03, 4.16). Dean also found out Cas was watching him all of 4.15 from afar, without intervening or making his presence known—just watching. All of this happened during a time where Dean was the angels unwilling errand boy, and now that Dean and Cas have both completely cut ties with heaven, Cas is still repeating the same patterns and the same lack of boundaries as he arrives wanting Dean's help... because he doesn't know any better or any different. He doesn't know how to act as a friend.

Dean's irritable attitude, his demand "Don't do that!", him saying in advance that he has no interest in helping Cas search for God (because he thinks God is a deadbeat asshole), him leaning away from Cas's finger reaching toward his forward and saying he is not flying with Cas anywhere—these are all assertions of Dean's boundaries, in a relationship that literally had zero fucking boundaries all of season 4 (at least not any that were ever respected). Dean is insisting that that will be changing now. And Cas isn't an idiot—he knows he can't order Dean around anymore, and while he has trouble with the ins and outs, he's willing to apologize for standing too close and modify his behavior, and he's even willing to ride in the car when Dean refuses to be flown (because he didn't poop for a week the last time).

The growing pains as their relationship shifts from Cas being Dean's handler to his friend continues into 5.04, when Cas wants Dean's help again, and asks where he is, only for Dean to tell Cas that he needs four hours of personal time. Cas gets confused, only for Dean to have to spell out that humans need to eat and sleep. It's an interspecies relationship, with someone who spent a whole season being expected to order Dean around whether Dean liked it or not, and Cas recognizes the difference that exists now and is willing to change, but the path to get there is pretty funny.

#pk rewatches spn number ?#5.03 #and cas is my best friend

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moldybonessmell · 19 days

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The Umbrella Academy season 3 review post

I finally finished season 3 of tua even tho I've watched first two seasons first day they came out and oh boy do I have things to talk about-

To begin with, the things I like about new season:

- The way we finally dug into Allison's trauma and how she starts going psychotic is actually a good plot line especially the accent on how she just like any other Umbrella Academy people indulges in self-distructive behavior, she's really just like them

- Diego getting a kid as someone with the biggest daddy issues out there is a realistic plotline because having a kid (even if Stanley's not actually his) heals him in this regard tho he and Lila would get a kid anyway eventually but they really should've been more sad about Stanley thanosing out of the existence you know

- Five being the founder of The Temps Commission makes so much sense as he's the one with the power to travel time of course he's more powerful than it seemed

- Good music scenes. Music is what season 1 was incredible for and what I love about the show. In season 2 there weren't many scenes that caught my attention but in s3 it's definetely better. We got Klaus's death montage with "Crystallised" by The xx and celebration scene with "Another one bites the dust" by Queen + Luther on moon and "Friday I'm in Love" by The Cure these were really nice.

- The Oblivion Hotel is such a cool location and concept (a place for everyone) I like the change of place of action a lot, but the way it's a portal is kinda overused imo

- Lila and Five are still the best characters and carried the season

- Fei is such a cool chara with a distict character design (which most of Sparrow Academy lack tbh)

Now things I don't like:

- Ben being just a placeholder character is such a bummer because instead of getting angst and drama we got a mostly one-dimentional anti-hero who has a completely different personality from Ben. We got a tiny bit of his character when he admitted he just wants to be involved with everyone but it's really minimal.

I can't believe Klaus says "He's an asshole and he's dead to me" like WHAT DO YOU MEAN fuck no Klaus would not say that shit and he would not just give up on him. Yeah Luther says stuff like "I'm glad to see you even if you're different" or whatever but it's Klaus who've spent the most time with Ben.

The way literally any other actor could have played Sparrow Ben and nothing would change is lame af I hope in next season we will see more changes

- Same goes to my dear Grace who's just a placeholder for black hole worshipper like what do you mean we just got one phrase from Diego and that's it??? This whole bit with fake god and stuff really threw me off it didn't go anywhere

- The Sparrow Academy being one-dimentional characters in general like I get producers probably didn't have enough episodes to actually develop characters but holy shit are they boring.

Even if you want to make them just antagonists we had such cool villains in two previous seasons they were original and interesting (aka The powerless podcast-fan male manipulator Peabody and The Cunty Handler)

Also the way the fisrt Sparrows who died were the most annoying and cliche assholes makes them just filler charas

- How show tried to make us feel compassion to Reginald Hargreeves holy shit do I hate this guy- After Klaus realised his father was basically killing him over and over in his childhood instead of Klaus getting mad or upset and having a breakdown we got nothing.

He even came back to new timeline Reginald who's "nicer" for this asshole just to hurt him AGAIN

- Klaus mostly being a comic relief in this season is so fucked I love this character and in previous seasons we had a great look at his life and experiences but now he's just kinda there being high and that's it

"mm I guess he died a few times it's probably enough" - plot writers

no character development whatsoever is just upsetting.

And the amount of unnecessary traumatising aka Reginald training him was really not it, even if it's supposed to be a joke.

- Reginald being a two-faced ass like holy shit is this terrifying. Pogo was the one who gave Sparrows pills and now Klaus helped him to stop taking them and this asshole is taking advantage of naive and vulnerable Klaus.

It is in fact a good plot twist but bro I really did prefer Reginald being a cartoonish villian instead of actual pure evil like how does he have shitty motivation but still does just so much shit.

- The Umbrella Academy family having no improvement in their relationship. They still don't care Klaus relapsed, they still don't care about Viktor. All they care about is their own misery which is really in character but with three seasons out of the way and only one more left I would expect at least something you know.

- Viktor is still left out. Like bro the only compassion he had is only when he transitioned but this is it?? Bro's still waiting till someone comes and cares about him but not only this doesn't happen, he even gets rediculed by Sparrow Ben for that and called emo are you actually kidding me what's with all the hurt with no comfort???

It feels a lot like when you're mentally ill and your family kinda "walks on eggshells" to not trigger you but it's in quotes because they don't actually care. They act nice just because they think you're psycho and you would make less problems if they pretend. And this is very sad, Viktor is such a tragic character.

Okay that's it for now. If you have any thoughts please share in comments!

#the umbrella academy #tua #tua s3 #tua s3 spoilers #klaus hargreeves #ben hargreeves #allison hargreeves #diego hargreeves #lila pitts #the sparrow academy #viktor hargreeves #reginald hargreeves

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nightfallgazer · 20 days

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We are all aware that Viv favors her male characters over her females one. I want to talk about Lute first because her whole existence is attached to Adam.

Lute's personality is like a kiddie pool. She has traits like being a sadistic [her line about fucking up Vaggie at the start of EP 8] and is a bigot [her hated of demons but I see other saying she can be view as being homophobic due to her lines about Vaggie and Charlie's relationship and her comments about Angel Dust], and her being her more levelheaded than Adam [In EP 6, when both of them saw Charlie and Vaggie and how Adam wanted to go for kill but Lute stopped him]. That is all.

In Ep1, she does hype him during Hell is Forever, but she is one of his soldiers, that is normal. That is her boss after all.

I was surprised to see them hanging out together in Ep6 because they did not seem like friends. Lute is more like Adam's handler to make sure he does not go even more off the rails.

Why she is hanging out with someone who called her 'danger tits', talks about sleeping with women 24/7, thinks that his dick is the greatest thing since slice bread, calls her bitch twice in derogatory way, and is in general an asshole? No wonder she is labeled as pick-me by fans. Lute being a female misogynist would make a lot of sense.

Lute seems to be no different than the other exorcists. She wears the same uniform as the rest of them. She is not even one of Adam's top girls, Vaggie had a higher kill rate than her, probably still does too.

When Adam died, her reaction felt off. She screams his name and tears rolls down her face when Adam smiles back at her but seems normal once returning to heaven to tell Lilith 'Go back to hell to crush your brat's hopes and dreams'. She does not even shed a tear when tossing Adam's halo down at Lilith's feet, hell she treated his halo like a frisbee.

She does not seem sadden by Adam's death that much, she even leaves Adam's body behind in Hell. If she really liked [or loved] this man, you would think she would have given him a proper burial.

I hope Lute gets more of a character in Season 2. I want to see her becomes the leader that the exorcists need and more of threat to the hotel and the residents.

Now, I am going to go on tangent about the exorcists under the cut:

Once thing has been in the back of my mind is if Adam created the exorcists, like them being heaven-made than born will make Adam and Lute's relationship weird.

The idea that Adam made Lute to be obedient to him and like [or love] him no matter what is gross. I hope this is not the case since Vaggie broke out of her programming and has free will but she does not have the free will change her name though I guess.

#hazbin hotel critique #hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel criticism #[wow i finally made my own post instead adding to someone one else's]

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mekochansblog · 1 year

Text

Do you still... love me?

Five Hargreeves x reader

- middle of season 3 so spoilers if you haven’t seen it.

- angst and sad and the ending was a little rush.

- warnings: mentions of death, slight cursing, Five being an asshole.

- pt. 1

Pt. 2 here

Everyone landed in the living room. They all gasped for air like they had been underwater for too long and were finally catching their breaths. You looked at your husband, and he looked back at you and smiled at you; he grabbed you by the waist and kissed you. Once you have wanted for a while. Since you first traveled in 2019, Five started being distant. He will be curt with you, look at you as if you asking a genuine question was dumb, and bring Dolores wherever you keep going.

It hurt to see the man you have been loving since the apocalypse slowly and not so gently stop giving you affection and love. You breathed in and out and held Five's hand. You all walked to the bar.

And that's when you heard Diego, "Why is there a picture of Ben in the mantle piece?"

You also looked at it and sighed, a tired and heartbroken sighed, you knew what that would mean. You looked at your husband again, and he looked at the picture of his supposedly deceased brother. You knew then that this little affection you were barely feeling would fade later. You wanted to cry, scream, fall, and stay on the floor. You loved your husband, how couldn't you? You guys have been married for more than 30+ years, but ever since coming back from the first apocalypse to the second one, you have felt like all the love and affection you had a while ago has been gone. You've felt insecure, cold, and most of all useless because that's one of the words that Five said when not all his siblings made it in time when he had the briefcase the handler gave him.

You have felt like it's better off with you gone. It felt like he didn't need you anymore. When Reginald Five's father introduced the new sparrow academy, you felt Five yank his hand away from you. You side-eyed him for a while before looking around and slowly walking away. You didn't notice that Diego was staring at you, and he was the one that saw your eyes tearing up. He knew you were broken. Seeing your eyes go from bright and shine that you used to have; to a dull and lifeless color. Seeing his brother turn cold with his sister-in-law made him feel awful for you. He knew that you love Five with all your heart. He has seen you talk about his sarcastic brother with so much fondness and love. It broke him when you didn't stick around.

When everyone started fighting, you calmly and slowly walked around the familiar house you were in a year ago. Yes, you spend almost a year in the '60s. It was painful being just 20, with no one but yourself. You saw Five fighting the girl with black hair when you walked back. She spits something on him, and by the time you ran to where they were, she had run off, not before punching you in the eye. You were going to have a black look later on.

When you turn to Five, you hear him say, "Delores."

With so much fondness, that may be your breaking point. Feeling useless was one thing, but him not caring or thinking about you? It broke you. Maybe that's why the handler looked at you with such malicious and fake pettiness when she said Five didn't love you anymore. How could you forget the quote she told you before you and Five left the commission when trying to save his family from the first apocalypse?

"Isn't it ironic Y/N?" The handler said.

"What?" You looked at her.

"You know, Five ignores the one person that adores him, and you adore him, the one person he's pretty much ignoring; you love the one person who's hurting you, but Five is hurting the person that loves him, and that's you," She said while laughing at you.

The irony.

Maybe she was right.

You walked away from Five, away from everyone, and got out of the house. You started mindlessly walking around, hoping your feet would take you somewhere, somewhere far away from there. You looked up once your feet stopped walking. 'Hotel Obsidian,' well, you might as well walk in. It's not like anyone misses you at all. Don't worry; they just decided to leave you; they don't care, Y/N. So you started silently crying and walked to the front office.

"Ex-excuse me?"

The man, whose name was "Chet," is what it said on his nametag, looked at you and smiled. "How can I help you today, miss?"

You smiled, well tried, "One room, please."

He decided to give you the room for free; instead, you could repay him by helping around since he told you it looked like you had just lost your soul. So technically, you lost your heart, but that doesn't matter anymore.

MEANWHILE WITH, THE ACADEMY

They met in a park surrounded by benches; everyone was either in pain or just trying to get used to the beat they just took. So while everyone was arguing, one of them noticed the lack of their sister-in-law.

"W-wait wait, where's... where's Y/N?"

And that's when they all looked around at Klaus's words. Five looked around and noticed you had yet to be around. Diego then looked at Five, stood up, and grabbed him by the collar while his sibling tried to stop him.

"You did something, didn't you?! You know I've been noticing that your wife looks like she wants to disappear from us! Like she-she wants to..." Diego trailed off, not wanting to say the next thing.

"Die," Klaus said, and everyone looked at him, shocked, even Five. "She looks like she wants to die because you've been acting like a total asshole to her; you've also been calling her names and acting like she doesn't exist, more like she's not even your wife, just an acquaintance."

"Wh-what, no, I haven't." Five said, oblivious to how you've been feeling since all he had cared about has been saving the world and his sibling, but then he thought about it; when was the last time he gave you a hug or an affectionate kiss? When was the last time you gave him one of your smiles? When was the last time he made you feel special? When was the last time you talked about not being related to the apocalypse?

Hell, he didn't even know where you were. Did he make you walk away from everything because of how he treated you? Diego let go of him and sat down; everyone stared at Five, wanting to know what he would do. So he stood up and asked Klaus if he knew where you could have gone, to which he said he did not know, but he had a feeling. So all six walked to the hotel Klaus was talking about, hoping you were there.

MEANWHILE WITH YOU

You had on an apron and started walking to Mr.Pennycrumb, Chet's puppy; you smiled at the dog while he licked you. Chet told you, you could run the front office while he took a break. While you were doing your own thing, of course, with the lovely company of the puppy, you heard the bell ring. So you put on your beautiful smile and walked to the front.

Hi, welcome to Hotel Obsidian; how may I help you?" You said with a closed-eye smile.

"Y/N!?"

You looked at who it was, and your body froze. It was your family-in-laws and your husband. You tried to smile, but seeing your husband made you stagger for a bit; you wanted to run, wasn't that part of why you walked away? You looked down and tried to blink the tears away. Gosh, why the fuck were you crying? He fucked up Y/N, not you; you didn't do anything wrong except give him love and attention.

"Y-Y/N? Darling, can.... can we talk, please?" Five said he was going to hold your hand, but before he could touch you, you backed away.

Five has never hurt you physically, but mentally... yes. Five knew he fucked up. Since when were you scared to hold his hand? When did you become so... afraid of him? He treated you like shit, called you names, and ignored you for Dolores; how could he let you be in so much pain?

"I-I'm sorry, Five, I do- I don't want to talk to you. So here are your keys. Have a nice stay." So you said and grabbed Mr.Pennycrumb and strolled to the back.

While you stayed in your room, Five stayed in his. He tried so hard to talk to you; he begged you to speak to him. This was torture. Is this how you felt? Was this all coming back to bite him in the ass for treating you like you didn't matter. Later on the day, you did open the door for him. Not because you wanted to but because you wanted to hear why? Why was he mistreating you? Did he not love you anymore? So when he came into the room and sat down, you asked him.

"Do you still...love me? Am I even someone you want to be with?" You asked him while you hugged the puppy, Mr.Pennycrumb giving you the comfort that Five once used to do. Five looked at you with such a guilty look. Has this been playing on your mind? Did he make you so insecure that you didn't know if he loved you?

“There’s never a day where I don’t think about you darling. I’m sorry I made you feel this way.. the way I treated you was something I promised you when we said our vows that I will never do… I love you darling I still do.” Five said with tears streaming down his eyes like waterfall. You looked at him and bit your lip. Where you scared to believe him? Yes, how could you not be? He disrespected you in ways he promised and vowed he will never.

“I- I don’t know what to tell you Five. You broke me in ways you said you will never will. How can I believe you? What if you go back on your words?” You said with a tremble in your voice. Five looked at you and gently held your hands with his. You felt him rub the back of your hands soothingly.

“I promise Y/N that I’ll be different, I don’t want to loose my sweetheart because I was being an asshole.” He whispered so gently to you, you felt like if he said it louder it will break the way he looked at you. You gently smiled and nodded slowly your head. We can see how it goes you thought. You wanted to believe him. It might take a while for that to happen but you knew if you wanted it to work it will take a while.

"I still love you with all my heart. I'm sorry I made you feel this way; you should have never had or needed to feel this way." He slowly stood up and gave you a hug you'd wanted for a long time. You started sobbing, the puppy running away from your arms. Five knew he needed to show you that he still loved you, and he would make sure he didn't let this happen again.

He'll kill himself before he hurts you again.

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ladykailitha · 2 months

Text

Not All That Glitters is Gold Part 8

Hello! This story is just cruising on through. I'm about four chapters ahead now and I know it's weird to say with that much story left, I do feel like it's coming to a close.

Today we have Robin taking a bit of initiative regarding Steve's date to the Gala, Steve getting some fun jobs and Chrissy being cute.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @redfreckledwolf @emly03 @lingeringmirth

****

Robin arrived bright and early the next morning to find two very hungover omegas passed out Steve’s sofa, a bucket of mostly eaten glob of goo that was once ice cream, two wine glasses and three empty bottles of wine.

She looked down at the two of them and wondered if this was a pity party or a celebration, it really could have gone either way. She tidied everything away and got water and painkillers for Steve and Chrissy when they woke up.

She settled in a nearby armchair and went through Steve’s requests for his services. She quickly dismissed those on his black list. There were always those that thought the rules didn’t apply to them. She noted the new addition that Troy made and went through his notes on the matter. They were thorough and raised both eyebrows.

Robin knew that the omega escorts that were the cream of the Starcourt crop didn’t like Troy because he came off as a creep, but other handlers loved him. Because Troy was meticulous in his notes. Every person that spared more than a passing glance to Steve got a note. Because that was another thing that set Troy apart from other handlers.

He didn’t believe social events were hands off. Even Robin tended to spend it in the car with Xander unless it was a new client. But not Troy. He got dressed up and stayed on hand in case his omega needed to get out.

But that intensity was why he was only a substitute handler. Starcourt had yet to find an omega that could stand it for long periods of time.

Troy had catalogued every little god damned thing. From the mirco-aggressions from the guests toward the band, the meet-cute of the century, the posturing and bullying from the senator afterwards. He noted that he almost interfered twice.

Once when the alpha bullied his way to Steve’s side when he was talking to the drummer. An alpha who had on his arm a pretty male omega who was obviously his date.

The other was when Lombard had pulled Steve away from talking to Joyce Hopper, another congressman’s bondmate.

But each time, Steve was able to calm the raging alpha, so Troy stayed his hand. But Robin could tell from his notes it was a near thing both times.

Robin licked her lips slowly. She almost wanted to put Troy on Steve for his next event.

She didn’t like how everyone looked down on both Steve and the band. Both were gross separately, but together it raised some serious red flags.

She made a note to talk to Steve about it. His instincts were really good.

She then pulled up Steve’s job requests and wasn’t surprised to see that Senator Lombard was on it. She quickly declined it and sent of the usual black orchids and cutting note.

Usually Steve dictated the note, but Robin didn’t want him pulled back into black hole that was this asshole senator. Plus there was the fact that Steve had put him on the pre-check list and Robin had overridden that.

Succinctly put she sent:

I’m no one’s property.

S. Harrington

She went through the list looking for other black listed members to fob off their requests back to management where they would find someone else or black list them from the company all together.

She went back to her list and gasped and giggled when she saw not one, not two, but three requests that would make Steve giddy as fuck.

She did frown a little at the final request. She would have call him and work out all the specifics because it could cause a lot of problems if mishandled.

Steve would want to do it regardless, if Troy’s notes were anything to go by, but it was Robin’s job to make sure everything was fun for all those involved.

She called the number.

“Hello?” the sleep rough voice answered.

“Hello,” Robin said brightly. “I’m sorry if I woke you, but I’m Robin Buckley, Steve Harrington’s handler.”

She suppressed a grin as she heard him scramble to get up. He cleared his throat.

“Um, yeah,” he mumbled. “How can I help you?”

“Yes,” Robin said. “I saw you had some particular requests for your rut servicing and I wanted to ask some questions about that.”

“Oh!” he said with a grin. “I would be happy to answer any questions you have.”

They spoke for almost twenty minutes but at the end of it, Robin signed off on all three requests.

She was adding them to Steve’s schedule when the man of the hour raised his head from the sofa and blinked at her, sleep rumpled and cute.

Steve mumbled his good morning before padding over to the kitchen to grab a cup of coffee. Once he was sufficiently caffeinated he sat back down on the sofa, careful not jostle the still sleeping Chrissy.

“You two look like you had lots of fun,” Robin said with a big grin.

Steve flipped her off.

Chrissy raised her head and blinked bleary eyed at Robin. When her vision cleared, she squeaked and ran for the bathroom.

Robin raised an eyebrow, but Steve just shrugged. He wasn’t going to tell her shit about the omega’s crush on her.

“Troy left some pretty hair-raising notes about last night,” Robin said wagging her eyebrows, “by the way.”

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah? What about?”

“A hot rockstar alpha got the ultra professional Steve Harrington to scent in a room full of the elite on heavy scent blockers no less.”

Steve blushed. “The only thing I can think of is that I must have sweated straight through it.”

Robin cocked her head. “Or he was just that hot.”

He took a deep sip of his coffee and looked away.

“Which is why,” she said with a feral grin, “you’ll be happy to note that Eddie Munson has requested you three times for three separate events and three separate jobs.”

Steve straightened up. “There is no way.”

Robin wagged her eyebrows again.

“What did he want?” Steve asked, aiming for nonchalant and missing it by a mile.

Robin pulled out her tablet. “The first one is for next Friday. He wants to do a roleplay. One of your favorites, in fact.”

Steve was suddenly on the other side of the sofa, leaning into her space.

She laughed out loud. “Not the BDSM one, you animal.”

“As if!” Steve huffed swatting at her playfully.

“The meet-cute in crowded hotel bar that leads to sex,” Robin clarified.

Steve gasped, clasping his hands to his chest dramatically. “I haven’t done one of those in so long!”

“And he wants you to wear the dress from last night,” she said with a sly grin. She read the note directly from her tablet. “‘I want to see if the dress drops to floor the way you said it does.’ You want to explain that one to me?”

He blushed to the tips of his ears. “He was asking if it was hard to get in and out of.”

Robin cackled. “You sly dog. No wonder you burst through your scent blockers with a line like that one.”

Steve coughed and looked away. “What’s next?”

“The Grammy’s,” she said, looking back at her tablet. “He wants you to wear something black and slinky. Your choice on suit or dress.”

He raised his eyebrows at that one. Most of the time alphas wanted their dates to be wearing dresses to an event like the Grammy’s.

Instantly he had two outfits enter his head. The first was a short sheath dress with strappy heels and minimal jewelry. The second was tight leather pants, a black suit coat with a mess top underneath and ‘fuck me’ killer heels.

He licked his lips thoughtfully. He would send both to Eddie to see which one he’d prefer.

“Sounds like fun,” Steve said honestly with a small smile.

Robin smiled back. “The last one is a rut servicing with a couple of strange stipulations.”

Steve cocked his head to the side. “Like what?”

“He wants you to go on birth control, for starters,” she said.

Steve frowned. It wasn’t that unusual of a request. There had been more than a few clients who didn’t believe that all the omegas were infertile and wanted extra protections.

“And no barebacking,” she added with a wince.

“Now that’s just insulting,” Steve huffed. “I can’t pup. It’s an actual thing.”

Robin chewed on her bottom lip. “Look, I wouldn’t have agreed to it if I thought he was being an ass about it. You know I wouldn’t.”

He let out a long shuddering breath. “Did he say why?”

She nodded. “I even looked it up and there was this whole thing. But the TL;dr is that he shared a rut with a non-escort omega who said they were infertile and they weren’t. The female omega tried to get him on the hook for child support, but when they did a paternity test, it wasn’t his. So the court ruled in favor of Eddie, but it was a near thing.”

It was Steve’s turn to wince. Yeah, all right. He had to admit that if he had had that happen to him, he’d be triply sure too.

“Fine.”

“There are a couple other things I just need to go over with you,” she said, “and then you’re all good to go.”

Steve nodded.

“He wants to pay for you to play at being his boyfriend until after the rut servicing,” Robin said.

Steve’s eyebrows went up. “And management is okay with that?”

He had done the boyfriend thing a few times but never with someone as high profile as Eddie Munson.

“According to the notes on the request his new management and Starcourt went over all the details and it’s going to be great publicity for both the band and us.”

Steve frowned, rearing back his head in confusion. “New management? What happened to his old management?”

“Do you remember the creepy gang bang?” Robins asked with a blush.

Steve’s frown deepened. “Yeah, of course. The band was pissed and fired their management...” he said trailing off. “Holy shit!”

She grimaced. “Yeah. Their new manager is Benny Hammond. I can’t imagine what dealing with the other guy would have been like.”

They went over the rest of the stipulations and by the time they were done, Chrissy poked her head out of the bathroom. “Hey, Steve can I borrow some clothes? I got ice cream all down the one side. Somehow.”

Steve laughed. “Sure thing. You know the drawer to pick from. You take from anywhere else and I will hunt you down.”

Chrissy rolled her eyes. “I know, I know. The rest is for clients only. I’ve got the same set up in my place, you know.”

He just grinned at her.

She huffed and dashed to Steve’s bedroom with just a towel wrapped around her slender form.

He looked over at Robin, who was looking dis-repectively. He threw a pillow at her head and she squawked.

“May I remind you,” he said with a glare, “that you have a girlfriend now?”

Robin sighed. “I know, I know. But you know how I am around hot women, I can’t help but look.”

“I do,” Steve said, “but does Vickie?”

Robin looked down, visibly chastised.

Five minutes later, Chrissy came back out wearing shorts that would have barely covered Steve’s ass, but went down to a respectable length on her and a crop top that hung off one shoulder and again went to her waist.

“It’s really not fair,” Robin said throwing her arms in the air, “how you escorts can look hot in the most basic of clothes. Clothes that would look sloppy on anyone else.”

Steve and Chrissy shared a glance with a grin.

“It’s an art, darling,” Chrissy drawled, tossing her hair back seductively.

Steve giggled.

Chrissy kissed his cheek and waved goodbye to Robin and soon they were alone at last.

“All right,” Robin said, “tell me everything.”

He threw back his head and laughed. “Let me get another cup of coffee, and then I’ll spill the tea.”

“Deal.”

****

Oops! This is the chapter I realized I had Hopper as both a Congressman and management at Starcourt! Sorry about that. Hopper has been changed in the earlier chapter (not on here) to being Powell so that when I post it to AO3, it won't have the continuity error.

Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @itsall-taken @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @messrs-weasley @lexirosewrites @goodolefashionedloverboi @maya-custodios-dionach @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @bookworm0690 @bookbinderbitch @littlewildflowerkitten @vecnuthy @scheodingers-muppet @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @genderless-spoon @yikes-a-bee @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @irregular-child @nburkhardt @apomaro-mellow @yellowdevilkitten @eyehartart @mangoinacan13 @ellietheasexylibrarian @rememberthatiloveyou @demolvr @y4r3luv @slowandsteddie @r0binscript @mogami13 @alyelf

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #omegaverse #alpha eddie munson #omega steve harrington

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highwaywhump · 3 months

Text

Febuwhump day 2

soo... probably (definitely) not going to finish this event on time (if at all). my workload suddenly doubled this semester but here's something at least. for febuwhump day 2 i have tried to get to know my nameless guard dog. here's his origin story, starting about 20 years prior to joey's story

CW/TW: captivity, collars/chains, forced drugging, controlled food intake, pet whump/bbu in general

“He’s not breaking.”

“He will.”

“60 says he won’t.”

“90 says he will.”

“Shut up, both of you.”

The two junior handlers snap their mouths shut, turning away from the monitor and towards senior handler Kerry. He’s leaning back in his office chair, unbothered, flipping through a quarterly report on customer success rates. His numbers are good, as usual. In fact, there’s an upwards trend. If it continues like this over the summer, there will undoubtedly be another raise beginning to rear its head from the deep, deep waters of this facility.

Kerry glances at the monitor. Nothing’s changed since he glanced at it last, 20 minutes ago. Nearly nothing’s changed since the feed started rolling, six days ago. He returns to his paperwork again, after sparing a pointed look at his two supposed protegees. They both hurriedly look down at their own paperwork, studying training manuals, only sneaking glances at the monitor when they don’t think Kerry’s looking. But he sees them every time. He absentmindedly clicks his pen and longingly recalls the days when corporal punishment in the workplace - in this workplace, at least - was still allowed.

They sit for another hour or so before Kerry announces that they’ll break for lunch with a grunt, and the junior handlers scurry off to the cafeteria while he unpacks his own meticulously made sandwich. The little domestic taking up space in his laundry room sure knows her stuff, he thinks as he angles the monitor a little, finally allowing himself a closer look now that the twin idiots are gone.

The idea of pets taking on the role as personal security isn’t new, at least not in practice. Rich assholes who think the world revolves around them have always wanted dedicated security. The Guard Dog type, however, is quite new. The specimen on the monitor is only the third generation, and a young generation at that. He was brought in only two weeks ago, a mean fucker just dishonorably discharged, with a glint in his eye and blood on his knuckles.

Well. A tether slightly too high up on the wall and a high-powered cold water hose took care of at least one of those problems. As for his unpleasant disposition … Kerry was doing something about that right now. Had been, for the last six days. And the project was just beginning to bear the flowers which eventually would become fruits.

The previous two generations had been too volatile, too easy to make lash out, and not only at potential threats. WRU could only pay out so much hush money before the media had started to notice. The third generation had to be perfect, and Kerry was one of a small group of handlers who had been served the task. A delicate mission to snuff out every little spark and flame inside the beasts and then create new, tailor-made gas flames in their wake, perfectly controllable and able to be extinguished by the flick of a verbal switch. A killer robot of flesh and blood.

The monitor showed 603-014 sitting against the wall, arms around his bowed head, very slightly shifting his weight back and forth. Kerry almost thought he could see a crescent shape in the floor surrounding him, as if his pacing (of which there was less and less, these days) had created a track in the floor. The nine feet of chain extending from his collar to a ring in the wall contained him like a mean junkyard dog at the end of a rope.

He hadn’t been outside the crescent in a week, much less outside his cell.

In the same period, he hadn’t seen a single other human. Nothing but the same four white walls and his own tethered body. After two days of screaming and crying and cursing and begging he’d lost his voice, and it was still only a hoarse and gravelly whimpering that would come through the speakers if Kerry decided to turn on the sound.

He glanced at his watch. It was soon time for 014’s daily prescribed five hour nap and his allotted 1300 calories - served in a dog bowl, of course. The two goons could do it, he figured, as he considered his own reuben sandwich, which seemed too good to leave right now. As if summoned by his thoughts, the two of them shuffled into his office, each holding a steaming hot styrofoam container.

“Great timing,” Kerry announced, not even allowing them time to set their food down. “Time for some practical training. 014 needs his daily rest and nourishment.”

“Handler Kerry-!”

“I trust you remember where the respiratory gear is,” he broke them off merrily as he reached for the control board mounted on his desk, which controlled every environmental condition in every cell he was responsible for. As they begrudgingly set their food down and removed themselves from his office, he found the right switch and pushed it down. The big lug would be sleeping blissfully in a few minutes, and Kerry would get to watch his mentees undoubtedly fuck up even the simple task of correctly fitting a gas mask on themselves before entering a room filled with anesthetic gas.

It would be lunch and a show.

@simplygrimly @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @briars7 @hackles-up @doveotions @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @kixngiggles @firewheeesky @maracujatangerine @nicolepascaline @whumpthisway @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @whumping-snail @pumpkin-spice-whump @pigeonwhumps @whumplr-reader @considerablecolors @dustypinetree @snakebites-and-ink

#again with the verb tenses........#cw captivity #cw collar #cw forced drugging #cw controlled food intake #pet whump #bbu #boxboy universe #febuwhump #febuwhump2024 #febuwhumpday2 #my nameless guard dog

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