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henry-fox-biggest-stan · 4 months

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Since most people here don’t have TikTok (and honestly, I don’t blame them) they haven’t heard all the dps musical snippets, so I figured I’ll transcript them

(None of the songs are in any specific order) (when there are several snippets, they also aren’t in any specific order)

"Another New First Day"

From the lyrics and title, I figured this would be the first song. It’s possible I’m incorrect.

Sang by: all the poets simultaneously (except Todd)

But l'm still hopeful that it might just get better / Some senior fun 'til my acceptance letter / Nothing really grows, despite how I wish it would / I've got friends enough to know this place brings some good / No use combatting destiny, the history that's bound to be / Sit back, settle down, and give in / It's set in stone, you're set for life / This is your life, now live in it / Predictable in its way, you know how it all goes / You'll feel it in your bones / The feeling you can't shake / Everything that you should want is waiting for you at the top / Another fresh start, another pathway, another new year, another first day / Another new first day

“Desk Set”

Sang by: Neil and Todd

Snippet 1:

(Todd) How do l know this is really the truth? My lines get blurred when it comes to you / And I don't wanna play the madman in this mad show made for two

(Neil) I wouldn't hurt you Toddy. I couldn't if l tried / l've never met somebody who makes me feel half as alive as you do / Half as alive as you do / Beyond my mind

(Todd) Outside my head

(Both of them) I've kissed you once lets kiss one thousand times again / One thousand times again.

Snippet 2:

(Neil) I can't make sense of sleep-talk / I can't declutter the strangeness / I'll always be weary of wishing and its dangers / I twist and turn in panic / I think ‘til I come to / I've held it back, but damn it, I'm thinking about you / Clouds pass and bring sunshine through our window / Waking, blinding me, but setting you aglow

(Both of them) I tend to imagine and get lost in that space

(Neil) I can't help but sleeping because I determine my fate / Determine my fate at the sound of turning pages, at the sight of your face / I could spend days in the worlds I create in my head

(Both of them) Let's kiss one thousand times again and again and again and again and again / One thousand times again

"Choking On The Bone"

Sang by: Charlie

Spare me the tough love, this just can't be how the kid grows up / Is this now my epilogue? ls letting go really growing up? / Will growing ever be enough? Or is it worth just giving up? / Head first into the ebb and flow, having no say in how l go / Drowning in the shallow, sucking out the marrow, and choking on the bone

"I Can Hear It Now"

Sang by: Chris and Ginny

(Both of them) There is nothing I can do to make myself feel relevant next to him / 'Cause it's his world and we're all just living in it / My potential can be fatal / It's my living breathing downfall / Haunting moments / Stuck in corners / Keeping me cut from the picture / It's his portrait / It's his moment / And I'm here as a silent accessory

(Ginny) But silence can feel more like death to me. Fade in into the background / The black behind fluorescent lights / There's music ringing through the room, but I’m counting on silence tonight

(Chris) A moment of deep recollection / Make me feel / Make me seen / But this is the way things oughta be, for this is how they’ve always been

(Ginny) There is nothing I can do to make myself feel relevant next to him

(Both of them) Cause it's his world and we’re all just living in it

(Both of them) (in a round) My potential can be fatal / It’s my living breathing downfall / Haunting moments / Stuck in corners / Keeping me cut from the picture

(Both of them) It's his portrait / It's his moment / And I’m here as a silent accessory / But silence can feel more like death to me

"At Your Will / Choking On The Bone"

Sang by: Charlie and Cameron (they both sing at the same time, not after the other)

(Both of them) They throw me into the fire and I don't feel a thing

(Charlie) The blizzard has burnt me more than the flames / They want all of my innocence wapped up like presents / But you can’t cover up neatly what ended in ruins

(Cameron) For the first time, I don't get it / For the first time, I doubt I ever will / For the first time, I’m giving up on getting it / So crucify me at your will

"Father Made It Clear (Reprise)"

Sang by: Neil

Father made it clear / He leaves no room for hoping / I stare out of the window / The ground beneath me frozen / Snow white and pure, the pearly gates of heaven / Maybe I'll arrive to find the curtains open / Or maybe I'll arrive to find out he was right / *pause* / But father made it clear / There's no room for me here

“God Of The Cave”

Sang by: the poets (snippet 1, 2, and 4) + Chris and Ginny (snippet 3 and 4)

Snippet 1:

(Neil, spoken) Alright, alright, quiet, gentlemen. We must behave ourselves in the presence of a guest.

(Pitts, spoken) What guest?

(Neil) Who is this, that enters our sacred ground? / It's a guest, a visitor, and one of great renown! / Do we have any guesses? / C'mon give it a go, champ

(Pitts, spoken) God, Neil, I don't know, it just looks like a lamp.

(Cameron, spoken) That’s ‘cause it is just a lamp.

(Neil) See, that's where you're wrong / Gentleman, friends, men paving the way / There's a divine force here today meet: / the God of the Caaaaave!

(The poets) …

(Neil) God of the Cave, brotherhood incarnate / We follow your lead as as you set the path straight / Get on our knees, bow in faith, light and shade, praising you / God of the Cave

Snippet 2:

(Neil, spoken) Take it away Todd!

(Todd, visibly struggling) …

(Todd, spoken, to Charlie) Will you read it with me?

(Todd) We are dreaming of tomorrow when tomorrow isn't coming / There's today and there's the end / And everything is sudden

(Charlie) And still we sleep

(Charlie) We are dreaming of a glory that we don't really want / We keep it up our sleeves to preserve what we are taught.

(Todd) And still we sleep

(Both of them) We are dreaming of a new day when the new day's here already / Exalt, sob, live, take your time, and keep it steady

(All the poets) And still we sleep

Snippet 3:

(Ginny) I know exactly what I'm grateful for / I'm out on my own / Exploring the outdoors / A girl in the wild, how crazy, how vile! / Nobody by my side to babysit all night / Or compare myself to ‘til my heart's black and blue / Not scared of being in second place

(Chris) Being allowed to take up space

(Both of them) And finding home inside a cave!

(Chris) Being wanted for who I am alone / And for once not only who l know / So thank you again for inviting us / Tonight you've all provided us / A new reason to smile / And all the while / Let's be true to the people we knew we could be

(Ginny) More than a sister / More than a shadow

(Chris) More than a girlfriend / More than a sideshow / So, thank you for today / And, thank you, God of the-

(Simultaneously)

(Ginny) Out on my own

(Knox) Under her spell

(Charlie and Todd) And still we sleep

(Chris) Who l am alone

(Cameron) Use of my skills

(Meeks) No more blues

(Pitts) Living in my prime

(Neil) Paving the way

(All) Caveeeee!

Snippet 4:

(All) God of the Cave / brotherhood incarnate / We follow your lead as you set the path straight / Get on our knees, bow in faith, light and shade, praising you / God of the Cave

(Knox) I think you’ve got the right idea / Praising God for friends / I've got new and old beside me / And truth be told tonight reminds me / How I feel sitting here / Every time one is near / She's smart / She's kind / Funny and stunning / Warm like sunshine / Beautiful inside / And out just as well / One word from her lips / And I’m under her spell / Heat that expels and won't let the cold in—

(Chris, spoken) Well who is it?

(Knox, panicked, spoken) Uh Nolan!

(Chris, spoken) Nolan?

(All) Nolan?!

"Paper Ripping Song"

Sang by: the poets

(Neil) A hum from outside the window / A consistent buzz and pound / Whispers of desire ring low / I feel what I hear in that sound / I wanna be the train in the distance when it races

(Neil and Cameron) I wanna feel the gain as I'm put through the paces

(Neil, Cameron, and Todd) There's a light in the shadows of doubt / Nothing leaves you without a mark / If you haven't grown up by now / You'll be forever, forever in the dark / Who will I be...

(All the poets) Now it's all up to me, and l'm clueless / Been told what to do / But not how to do it

(Background, spoken) Rip, shred, thread!

(All the poets) My life is a maze, I can't cut the corners / Maybe today I might move forward / I'll be what I am, whoever that may be / And when I meet them l'Il see with utmost clarity

“Phone Call From God”

Sang by: Charlie

Snippet 1:

(Mr Nolan, spoken) Whoever the guilty persons are, this is your only chance to avoid expulsion from the academy

*phone rings*

When a phone rings, we're taught it's rude to hold off / So l hear a … and figure it's polite to respond

(Spoken) Mr. Nolan, it's for you. It’s God. She says we should have girls at Welton

I know it might sound crazy, but I know God when I hear her / That voice rings, booms, and stuns. She’s offering us the answer! / She's gifted us advice to repent us from all sin. There's a way to avoid all hell, yes! / lf you let girls into Welton / God herself is begging, pleading with a crackling voice / How are we to see the world if it's only seen by boys?

Snippet 2:

Now I can’t help / That I was born the chosen one / Hand-picked by the father, the holy spirit, and the son / So when they call me a prophet / What can I do but agree? / I guess the blessing of a goddess has forced a spotlight on me / And yes, there's pressure, handling it all on my own

(Ensemble, aka unnamed students) He talks to God!

But I take it in my stride and I take it over the phone

(Ensemble) God has a rotary - it makes sense if you don’t think about it too hard

Are we?

(Ensemble) Yes!

I wasn’t finished yet

(Ensemble) Sorry!

Are we ready to be the reason that God's plan falls through?

(Ensemble) No!

Then what should we do?

(Ensemble) We'll listen to you!

"Party Of Seven"

Sang by: Knox and Chris

*telephone sounds*

(Chris, on the phone, spoken) Hello?

(Knox, nervous) *hangs the phone abruptly*

(Charlie, spoken) What was that pussy-move about, Knoxious?

(Knox, spoken) She's gonna hate me! The Danburry's are gonna hate me! My parents are gonna kill me!

(The poets) …

(Knox, spoken) Alright, jeez. Carpe diem, even if it kills me.

(Chris, spoken) Hello?

(Knox, spoken) Hello, Chris?

(Chris) Yes, who am I speaking with?

(Knox, spoken) Hi! This is Overstreet! Well, no, it's Knox. I mean Overstreet is a part of my name but not all of it. It's Knox Overstreet in full, but I just go by Knox.

(Chris) …

(Knox, in a lower voice, spoken) Hey, it's Knox.

(Chris) Hi, Knox. I'm glad you called.

(Knox) She’s glad I called!

(Chris) I was actually gonna call you about Ginny's party to promote the play / I was hoping I could count on seeing you Friday.

(Knox, accusing, towards Neil, spoken) Ginny's having a party … and she didn't invite Neil … because if she DID he would've told us about it, right?

(Chris, spoken) Well, if you can't come Knox, that's totally okay.

(Knox, spoken) We'll be there!

(Chris, spoken) We'll?

(Knox) Of course! / What kind of party would it be / Without the hell-raisers of the academy? / We are going to that party / We'll do what the cool kids do / Like smoke and drink and talk to you

(Chris, spoken) What?

(Knox) Nothing! / The Dead Poets will be in attendance / That much you can count on / We've been waiting for something like this / Something to…. / Get our groove on

(Chris, spoken) All of you? That is … great!

(Knox) That is great / Just you and me / And six of my closest friends

(Chris) Well, it's this Friday at seven / So I'll see all seven of you then

(Knox) The Danburry's house / Friday at seven / I'll be there / All seven of us will be there

"Puck's Celebration"

Sang by: Neil

Snippet 1:

Years of waiting and pining have finally lead to this feeling / Happiness that's mine to keep / Nobody else I've gotta be

(Spoken) But that shrewd and knavish sprite called Robin Goodfellow. I’m Puck! I'm playing Puck!

(Background, spoken) Puck you!

Just a bed of bliss / Just to lay my head in / Just one thing that's really mine / Just one thing, just one time / God, I’m happy / Really happy / Don't think I’ve felt this kind of happy before now / Not even when I was barely ten, and my dad got me that toy train and / I played with it for days on end / I would sit and play with it / Well, play with it ‘till I broke the back engine / I guess I never did have steady hands / So much for being a surgeon then! / I still loved that train and, yes, I was happy / Happy despite the broken back engine / But this happy is different from back-engine-happy / This time I'm happy and it's just for me / With no despites and no tiny print / No more back-engine happy and no more restrict…ions

Snippet 2:

If father could see me now he'd see this smile on my face / and maybe he'd be proud of the happy boy he raised / I'd hug him and weep and say / "I love you, thank you for seeing me through" / And he'd say, "son, if you're happy, then l am too" / And he'd mean it / Each show I'm in, he'd see it / He'll buy flowers and stand in the aisle / Shouting "that's my boy!" with a genuine smile / I'd jump in his arms, he'd cradle my head, just like I'm a younger child again

“Starlit Smile”

Sang by: Chris

What is it about / His smile, his words, his gift — no, his curse / He beams, he shines / It seems he's mine if I want him to be / So, what's stopping me? / God, what's wrong with me? / But how can I know what's wrong or what's right / If I'm always running without giving a try / To the bright, warm joy of the moonlit boy

“Desk Set (Reprise)”

Sang by: Todd (talking to Neil)

Here, now I find you, abstaining from dejection / But know you don't have to be locked down by perception / The world will seek joy to crash upon, a light to bash until it's gone / But I've seen your unclouded days, your unlighted nights / I'm here for you always / I'm here now by your side, by your side

(Spoken) You’ll be alright

“At Your Will”

Sang by: Cameron

(Cameron’s villain song)

Drag my name through muddy waters / Make my face rough with blood / At least I'll know I took a stand / I followed through a steady plan / I faced it head on like a man / I did it once, l'Il do it again / They kiss the ground of this "great poet" / They sit here and leave me for dead / They weep and sob over teachings / And learn to abandon a friend

(Mr. McAllister, off stage, spoken) Gerard Pitts

My apologies for being neglected, unfair / Make me the enemy / And see if I care / Bully me, silence me, mock and ignore / They tried to brainwash me, but not anymore! / My apologies for winning, living right inside the grey / Success in dignity, morality in vain / For the first time, I don't get it / For the first time, I doubt I ever will / For the first time, l'm giving up on getting it! / So crucify me at your will

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greenorangevioletgrass · 2 years

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forward motion through the water (joe)

pairing: joe (mammal) x fem!reader

summary: you find unexpected company in your late-night swim.

word count: 2,103

warnings: language, banter, fluff, smut [public sex, fingering, unprotected sex, choking, creampie] no movie spoilers!

notes: my taglist has ended. follow @ficsbygreenorangevioletgrass and turn on the notification for my latest works! to celebrate the new year, why not kick it off with our boy joe? happy reading and don't forget to reblog if you like it! <3

***

Swimming has always been your respite. There's nothing quite like paddling through water, somehow heavy and light at the same time. The burning ache in your arms and legs feel warm and familiar because you're finally, finally tiring yourself out for the night. And if the voices in your head get too loud, you can always float. Or dive in. Either way, you only hear the muted ebb and flow of the water.

It's a late Thursday night; way past closing time at your university swimming pool. But one of your friends is a competitive swimmer and has access to the place for training. And tonight, you're snagging that for a bit of a quiet time alone.

Which is strange when you see the door into the swimming pool unlocked and open just a crack. And as you get closer and closer, you hear splashing of water.

You try to sneak in, but the door creaks. Loud in this massive echo chamber in the dead of night with just yourself and... this boy who seems like he can barely swim?

He turns around to look at you, and you're both equally as alarmed to be made.

"Oi, you're not supposed to be here," he shouts at you from the far side of the pool.

But you're not backing down that easily. You didn't walk in the freezing cold from your flat just to be turned away by this ratty-looking boy. So you simply cross your arms and say,

"I could say the same about you."

"I work here."

"I have access." you wave around a card and a key.

He jumps onto the edge of the pool and sits down. "You a swimmer?"

You shrug.

He looks at you curiously. "Never seen you train here before."

"I'm new,” you lie without missing a beat.

"So am I,” he quips back. He doesn’t buy it at all, that much is obvious.

With a heavy sigh, you walk over to him. "Look, man, I'm just here to do a few laps. I'll stay on my lane, and you on yours. Alright?"

He gives you one last look, like he's trying to assess how much of a threat you are, and decides you probably won't be a bother (which is rich, coming from him). So he motions towards the pool to allow you in, so to speak.

"How gracious of you," you deadpan, throwing down your gym bag on a bench. Shedding your jacket and your hoodies and your sweatpants and your shoes until you're standing in your Nike swimsuit.

You stretch and put on your goggles as you make your way to the starting block, and through it all, you feel him stealing glances at you. It would unnerve you if he hadn't looked so damn out of place.

"You were giving me a hard time just so you can dip your toes in the water? I thought you wanted to swim!" you quip cockily, just before you jump into the water.

The cold is biting, but you power through, legs kicking and arms a-windmill the whole length of the pool and back. Your breath is labored when you bring your head out of the water, but your head is a little clearer. And the more you swim, the more your body relaxes. The more yourself you feel.

You try to ignore this other guy, out of privacy and peace of mind, though you can’t help but notice him swimming a few lanes away. A lot slower, a lot... messier. Sometimes stopping in the middle of the lap. Sometimes just... sitting on the bottom of the pool, air bubbles popping up from his nose into the surface.

After a while, you catch your breath by floating on your back, carried away from your lane, when he finally emerges from the water.

"I was starting to think you were taking a nap down there," you offhandedly comment, goggles now wrapped loosely around your wrist.

"What if I was?" There's a hint of humor in his voice this time.

You pause thoughtfully. "Well, was it a good nap?"

For the first time, he smiles, and you almost think that maybe, just maybe, he's not so bad.

(And if his eyes linger as he watches you chuckle, you don't mind it all that much.)

"So." you wade over to him. "What brings you here?"

"It's just... nice. Quiet," he trails off, and then catches himself. "Well. When I'm alone, I guess."

You roll your eyes at his little dig at you, although you still agree. “I mean, I get it.”

He looks at you curiously again, as if asking you to tell him more.

"You get to stop thinking for a bit, don't you? And there's nothing else but you in the water..." you trail off and catch yourself, mimicking him. "Well. There's you flopping around tonight, but…”

He laughs a little and splashes you.

“Oh come on!” you splash him right back, hitting him right in the face.

For a moment, the steady ripple of water erupts into erratic sloshes between the two of you. Gone are the peace and quiet. It’s all cackling and curses and chaos in your sacred temple.

And you’re not mad about it.

He disappears under the surface and purposely, obnoxiously, splashes you with his kicking motion as he swims away. But you’re a much better swimmer, you can reach his leg and pull it in no time.

You join him underwater and get into this playful wrestling with him until you come up for air, gasping and laughing and holding onto each other in the deep end of the pool.

Staring at this perfect stranger with eyes as blue as the water and a smile as mischievous as the devil.

And somehow, your first instinct is to pull him into a kiss.

And oh, how he welcomes you with open arms.

Gone is the urge to stay afloat. The two of you effortlessly sink into the pool floor, this time entangling yourselves into each other instead of pulling away. Hair and limbs weightlessly drifting around you, only kept together by your lips and his hand on your face. You don’t pull away until you’re dizzy –and even then, you’re not sure if it’s from the kiss or the breath you’re running out of.

You just know that you haven’t had enough.

Your hand finds his as you swim back to the surface. He catches up to you with a gasp, and this time, he’s the one who chases your lips. Hot and wet and entirely all-consuming. He laves on your lips and your neck and your earlobe and the corner of your jaw until your mind’s hazy and it takes you everything to push him away and climb up the metal ladder on the side of the pool.

You look over your shoulder, droplets falling from the tips of your hair. “Coming?”

As clumsy as his swimming, he clambers up and embraces you from behind, continuing his ravenous kisses on your wet skin. His hand roams all over your body, from your thighs to your hips to your ass and your tits. Completely engrossed in committing your curves to memory while you lead him towards the bench.

You push him away for the second time –this time to sit him down. All the physical exertion makes you bold, and you don’t feel an inch of insecurity as you unzip the front of your swimsuit and peel it off your skin.

Not when this boy is staring up at you in pure, unadulterated lust and pulls you in by your hips, mouth tracing patterns on your lower stomach. Tentatively. Like he’s asking a question.

And you don’t need to answer. Your one knee propped on the bench is already enough to tell him yes.

He takes your answer, and your hardened nipples, in his mouth like it’s his to devour.

His hand trails up your inner thigh, caressing your pussy lips, all soft and silky and sensitive. One finger dips between your folds, finding your clit. He rubs and rubs until your hips are rocking with him in this slow, unsteady rhythm. And as the pleasure grows, he slides a finger inside you, and another. Curling and coaxing you closer and closer to orgasm. And when you look down to find him staring up at you, you’re sure that he’s determined to get you there.

“Fuck…” your fingers disappear into his mess of dark hair as he licks and tugs at your tits with his tongue and his teeth, sly fingers pumping in and out of you, clenching around him tighter and tighter until the grip breaks. Your senses are flooded with warmth and pleasure, as your moans fill the silent air.

“I’m, uh…” he murmurs into your chest, and you find it kind of adorable that he’s the one at a loss for words when you’re the one who just got fingerfucked to completion.

“Hey, I’m clean. Are you clean?” you push down his trunks, freeing his cock, looking him right in the eye.

He nods, his Adam’s apple visibly bobbing as he runs the tip of your hard length along your slit. The bulbous head sits right on your entrance and it’s only then that you realize something.

“What’s your name?” you breathe out, your motion stopping to a halt.

He blinks at you like he needs a moment to register your question. “Joe,” he answers.

“Joe.” you nod slowly, and then, “Cool. I just –just think screaming ‘stranger at the pool’ when I cum is a bit of a mouthful.”

He chuckles, the kind that makes his whole face light up, and kisses you deeply. Pulling you in as you sink down on him, swallowing him whole in your core.

For a moment, neither of you move. You’re just wrapped and enclosed together, taking in how warm and alive you feel with each other. Foreheads pressed together. Hearts beating in sync with your breaths. And soon, the grinding of your hips follows.

He meets your thrusts halfway, his hands firm on your ass. The stretch of his cock makes you whimper, and you want him closer. Your hand cups the side of his neck to pull him back towards your lips, and you swear his breath hitches when your thumb glides across his windpipe…

Oh.

You pull away to get a good look at him –in question, in confirmation. And you don’t know how you know this; his eyes just soften and he tilts his head up ever so slightly and he lets you.

It’s almost tender. Despite the desperate rutting of your hips. Despite your hand around his throat, squeezing a little tighter by the second. His eyes bore into you, aged and innocent at the same time, and it doesn’t unsettle you one bit. It’s like swimming in uncharted waters, but it’s still swimming all the same.

His hands are everywhere now. On your hips, tangled in your hair, on the side of your face… and you find yourself mirroring what he did. Tilting your head up, allowing his hand to close in around you, too.

The silent word that falls from your lips is his name.

The light pressure on the sides of your neck makes you lightheaded, and it melds with the orgasm that surges through your veins. You feel every pulse of your inner walls, every gasp that squeaks through. Every inch of him inside you, painting your insides with his release.

And you feel like floating.

And just as you start to sink in, you feel Joe’s hands around your back. Keeping you close against him. The hand on your neck is already cradling the back of your head. “There we go… you’re alright. You’re good. Just breathe, okay? Breathe…”

You do just that, and you can’t help but chuckle lazily.

“What?”

“I think that’s the most I’ve heard you speak the whole night.”

He shakes his head grinning. “I still don’t know your name, you know.”

“You never asked.”

Joe rolls his eyes playfully. “Fine. What’s your name?”

It’s so strange to go through these introductions while still having him inside you, his cum dripping out of you onto his own thigh. Your arms resting on his shoulders as you toy with his wet hair. All too familiar.

“Y/N.”

“Y/N,” he echoes, hand tracing the outline of your face, and you can feel the jagged scar on his palm on your skin.

“Joe,” you greet him back, savoring how his name tastes on your tongue, a and kisses him hello.

#lets go babyyyy #joe (mammal) x reader #joe (mammal) smut #barry keoghan x reader #barry keoghan smut #druig x reader #druig smut #cmon where my mammal hoes at????#ava writes

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erodasfishtacos · 3 years

Note

Can I request a prompt of dad!Harry where maybe it’s just him And Sasha and they get mobbed and her slightly hurt but he is furious

JUST A LESSON

word count: 5k+ (how'd i write this in one day)

warnings: language, smut, blood, minor injuries

- If you'd like more from dad!harry verse - check out my masterlist! (pinned post)

- PLEASE NOTE: DAD!HARRY & CEO!HARRY ARE TWO DIFFERENT TROPES.

*** <- click for visuals throughout the story!

---

Harry was quite stressed out. He wasn’t sure how his wife did it all the time. She was constantly packing up Sasha and toting her around the globe to meet up with him for concerts and events when he was away.

The little family had been staying in their Los Angeles home for nearly three months now as Harry had been writing for his third solo album. It involved a lot of late nights were Y/N were putting Sasha to bed by herself.

Harry was eternally grateful that she was so patient and understanding when he snuck into bed quarter past three after finding a rift that fit a new song perfectly or when Mitch had an idea that had Harry on Skype for hours with him.

The stress was overwhelming for her though. She was usually good at self-care and taking time for herself but Sasha had been so needy lately and crabby when her father wasn’t at her beck and call.

The toddler was going through a bout where she struggled to sleep through the night and had a tendency to scream bloody murder when she didn’t get her way.

It was nearly three weeks of this and she hadn’t mentioned it too much to Harry because she didn’t want him to be as stressed out as she was.

Tonight, Y/N had rocked, sang, hummed, and read to her daughter to stop the angry tears that were rolling down her cheeks but nothing was working. It was near eleven at night and she had took Sasha out in the car for a long ride where she finally fell asleep.

But as soon as Y/N unlocked the front door, she startled awake even angrier than before, squirming out her mother’s grip and bolting through the house. When she tried to round a corner, she slipped on her bum.

Y/N felt her anxiety level break.

Sasha began screaming once again, “Mummy! No! No!”

When Y/N picked her up after her slight tumble, she was absolutely not hurt but had become even more frustrated. Y/N was starting to feel overwhelmed - which didn’t happen often.

“Baby, what do you want? What can mummy do?” Y/N asks with desperation, searching her baby’s watery green eyes. She looked so much like her dad it was absurd.

“No! Down! Stop!” The two year old orders with a furrowed brow, lips in a tight line with her nose scrunched up in displeasure.

“Sasha, you just hurt yourself. You can’t run in the house, the floor is slippery,” Y/N tells her firmly despite it falling upon deaf ears.

“Bad mummy,” Sasha shrieks, “Daddy! Want Daddy! Now!”

Y/N is embarrassed to admit that she has tears welling up in her eyes. She was trying everything in her power to soothe her baby. It’s midnight at this point and she’d been at it since seven this morning.

Sasha had refused a nap all day - giving Y/N no respite at all. Harry had left at eight in the morning and hadn’t returned yet. Even though Sasha was only two and a half, Y/N felt a pang at the words ‘bad mummy.’

She didn’t feel any other option at this point than to call Harry for help. She wanted to be capable of being at stay home mum but sometimes it was really fucking hard but she felt guilty because she should be able to do this. Harry was out there working hard, providing, constantly.

When he doesn’t answer, the tears freely start streaming down her face in silence. She scrubs at them quickly so that her daughter doesn’t see them but it’s hard to catch them all - sobs threatening to bubble through her lips.

“Daddy’s working, we need to go to sleep,” Y/N replies to her daughter, jaw clenched to hold back the upset she feels. She needs a minute alone but she doubts her toddler will let her.

“Pool?” Sasha piques, “Swim?”

Y/N wants to laugh, it’s so fucking late and Sasha should have been in bed nearly four hours ago. The mother was so beyond her routine at this point, that she actually just gave in to her daughter.

Sasha’s mood turns around when Y/N wrangles them both into their swimsuits ***and trails out of the back patio, switching on all the lights around as well as in the pool. The California air was still extremely warm, enough to cause a sweat. ***

She tugs a little donut raft into the pool with them that Sasha can float around on while Y/N guides it to keep her safe. She was so tired by this point that her bones felt like they weighed a million pounds.

Sasha’s eyes droop until they finally flutter close within minutes of being in the warm water. Her eyelids splotchy pink from all of the fits and tears from the day. And when she is completely asleep, Y/N lets herself cry as she continues to float the baby around the pool to keep her asleep.

She hasn’t been doing it for more than ten minutes when the patio door opens and Harry is stepping into the back with a confused expression that she can’t see because her back is turned to him.

“Love, why are you in the pool? S’late,” Harry asks softly but he doesn’t get an answer, so he’s slipping out of his plain tee and striped pants, dirty vans kicked to the side ***.

Just in his briefs, he quietly enters the pool to not disrupt the ebb and flow of the water. When he makes his way over to her, he slides in front of his wife, alarmed at the exhausted, tearful expression on her face.

“Baby, what’s happened? Talk t’me,” Harry whispers, hands coming to cup his wife’s face in between his large hands. Rings cold against her hot, wet cheeks. He looks to his sleeping daughter, running his eyes over her a few times and decides she seems completely okay.

“M’fine,” Y/N chokes out but the lie causes a fresh wave of tears.

Harry frowns, “Don’t lie to me, pet. Please, don’t shut me out. M’always here for you.”

“I’m a bad mum,” She sobs silently, her eyes closing as she leans into his palms before moving to rest her head heavily on the crook of his tattooed shoulder, his chest damp from the salty tears.

“Wha-What’s brought this on? Y’the best mum in the world, best wife in the world. The best at everythin’, why are you doubtin’ that, my heart?” Harry murmurs, taking over the rocking motions of Sasha’s raft.

“She wouldn’t settle today, Harry. Like at all, refusing to nap, eat any healthy food, or bathe. She screamed at me the whole day no matter what I did and then she told me I was bad and she wanted you.”

“Love, she’s in the midst of her terrible twos. She loves you more than anythin’ on this earth. Y’her mummy and a damn good one at that. Why didn’t y’call me? I’d come home, work is never more important than our family.”

Y/N doesn’t bring up the fact she did try to call, “I need to be able to do this myself, Harry. M’a stay at home mum, taking care of Sash is literally my only job and I can’t even do that.”

Harry’s face hardens but he tries to not take it personally, knowing his wife is just upset with herself, “That’s not fair to me, dove. M’her daddy, she’s half mine too. She’s just as much of my responsibility as yours, no matter what my job is.”

“I don’t want to stress you out more than necessary,” Y/N mutters into his skin.

“Me coming home to my wife in tears and my baby in the pool at midnight is more stressful than you ringin’ me to come home,” Harry tells her, smearing a few kisses to the top of her hair.

“I’m sorry for worrying you. I’m just tired.”

Harry pulls her back so he can look her in the eyes, “Never apologize for somethin’ like that. Go get a bath and let me put the bub to sleep, okay? I love y’mumma.”

Harry calls his mum the next morning while Y/N is out getting a manicure with Glenne. He’d called her favorite salon earlier in the day, coercing them into opening a spot for her with a monetary bribe.

Y/N had hesitated at the door as Sasha threw a fit at her mother leaving the house. She clung onto her calf until Harry had to physically pull her off and hold her tightly in his arms.

Currently, Sasha was playing with a set of dolls on the floor of her bedroom as Harry sat next to her. She’d originally been happy with the presence of her father until he told her he needed to make a phone call.

Harry had to be stern with her when she went to grab at the phone pressed to his ear, gently gripping her wrist and frowning, “We don’t do that, s’not nice.”

Sasha had attempted to grab at it again and managed to tangle Harry’s long locks into his fist, tugging at them. Harry unraveled the small fingers before telling his daughter, “If you do that one more time, y’going on the step for two minutes.”

The threat had her pouting harshly but turning back to her toys to occupy herself, sighing when his mum finally answered the phone, “Hi darling.”

“Hi mum, you alright?” Harry asks, relaxing at the sound of his mother’s melodic voice.

“I’m perfect, you don’t sound okay, dear,” Anne replies with a concerned twinge.

Harry didn’t call much to complain, didn’t like worrying her and most of the time Y/N was able to provide the support he needed or Jeff.

“Y/N’s really overwhelmed,” Harry tells her before choking up a bit, “And I don’t know what to do mum, I feel like m’bein’ a bad husband. Came home to her crying last night and she feels like she’s a bad mum.”

When Sasha hears her father’s voice crack, she looks up at him curiously before recognizing that he’s upset. She crawls into his lap, fitting herself against his chest before playing with a doll there. Comforting him.

Harry wraps his free arm around her, pulling her as close as possible. His precious little baby. A little blessing as sweet as her mother.

“Oh honey, that happens. Mums, good mums especially are so critical when they don’t need to be. Baby’s are overwhelming, plus I know she’s been alone a lot with her. But you’re not a bad husband, dear.”

“It feels like it,” Harry sniffles, burying his face in his daughter’s lavender-scented curls from her bath earlier.

“If you were, you wouldn’t be calling,” Anne chuckles at her son, “Now how can we make this situation better?”

The phone call helped Harry not feel so hopeless in helping his wife. He’d come up with the plan to fly to England with Sasha so that Anne could see her but Y/N could have some alone time for a long weekend.

When Y/N enters the front door after her appointment, she’s met by a very excited little human who rushes to her mother and demands to be picked up. Of course, Y/N obliges, looking a bit more refreshed and awake as she tucks the baby against her hip.

Harry had ordered their favorite salads from a shop in the city and had it ready for her, “Oh, looks delicious. Thank you, H,” She smiles at him, leaning to give his stubbly cheek a kiss.

As they dig in, Y/N feeding bits of chicken and veggies to her daughter as they eat, Harry clears his throat, “I’m taking Sash to Holmes Chapel for the long weekend to see my mum.”

Y/N smiles, “That sounds great!”

Harry gives her a perplexed look, he’d thought she’d put up a fight. She despised being away from Sasha - couldn’t go a day without seeing her daughter.

“Really?” Her husband asks, putting down his fork.

“Mhm, I just have to pack a bag for Sash and I. When are we leaving?” Y/N replies eagerly, ready to go back home and get away from California for a bit.

Harry’s stomach clenches, “Erm, I meant just me and the baba? I thought you could stay here and relax for a weekend. Sleep, hang out, shop.”

Y/N’s face falls and is replaced with a devastated look, “You don’t think I’m being a good mum.”

Harry backpedals, realizing he shouldn’t have approached it in the lax way he did.

“No, no, of course not, baby. I think you’re such a good mum that you need a break. You never get breaks, m’the one who always does. S’not fair to you. I just need you to have some time to take care of yourself,” Harry explains, his heart shattering a bit at the tears brimming again.

“I don’t want a break, don’t leave me here,” Y/N begs, tucking a piece of tomato in her daughter’s expectant mouth before Sasha chews and smiles at her mother.

“Mummy, more please?” Sasha chirps, her mood a little bit brighter than it had been the last few days.

“Thank you for using your manners, here baby,” Her mother responds, popping another into her mouth after she sliced it in half.

“Did you book a commercial flight?” She asks her husband with an angry tone.

“No, private but we have to catch it at LAX,” Harry explains, the private airport they usually fly out of was filled to capacity at the moment.

“Either I’m coming or you’re going alone. You’re not taking Sasha without me,” Y/N replies firmly. She stands up and shuffles Sasha into his lap before leaving the room without another word.

Harry didn’t expect that. He should have thought it through more. If Y/N wanted to come, of course she could, but he’d never meant to offend her or act like he was taking Sasha away from her.

Harry had attempted to reason his way out of going to the studio with Jeff today. However, with the final cuts and adjustments were being made - he was quickly turned down and demanded in the studio.

When he’d trailed into the quiet house that night, relieved to find his baby in her crib instead of the pool, he went to his bedroom where the lights were still on.

The closet doors were open and Y/N was on the ground folding and sorting Sasha’s clothes before placing them in her suitcase. ***

Y/N’s suitcase already laying zipped and ready to go by the entrance of the closet. Her toiletry bag was placed neatly on top of it. Then his heart pings a bit when he sees that she’s already packed up his suitcase as well.

Harry pads over to his wife, plopping down behind her and tugging her back into him - long arms wrapping around her upper chest.

“Missed you, mumma.”

She hums, “I missed you too. Miss you always.”

“Y’the love of my life, y’know that?” Harry asks, kissing the back of her neck.

“I better be or you married the wrong person,” Y/N laughs softly, her tone still off but lighter than before.

“Married the right person, knocked up the right person.”

Y/N barks out a laugh, rolling her eyes, “How romantic.”

“Baby, y’know what I’m getting at. You’re the best mum and wife. I just wanted you to have a few days to yourself. To lower your stress level and let you do some self-care,” Harry murmurs, pushing the baby clothes out of her hands.

“But your mum can watch her for a bit while we’re there, right? I don’t want alone time, I need the exact opposite. I need company,” She tells him, twisting herself until she’s seated in his lap - straddling him.

“Mmm, can definitely have some alone time,” Harry agrees instantly, his mouth finding her throat - beginning to lay a path of wet, hot kisses down the column down to her collarbones.

“H, I have t’pack, we’re leaving tomorrow morning,” Y/N weakly argues but can’t help but bear down against her husband when she feels him harden in his loose pants quickly.

“S’just a quickie? Yeah, pet? Lemme fuck you,” Harry’s hands dragging the shirt she’s wearing up and over her head. Eyes lighting up boyishly when he realizes she didn’t have a bra on.

She can’t argue as he darts down to wrap his lips around her pert bud, sucking between long swipes of his tongue - just how she liked it. “Missed y’body so much,” Harry states against her heated skin.

“Just had me two days ago,” Y/N laughs but it cuts off into a moan when his hand slides into her pajama shorts and finds her clit over her thin underwear.

“Never enough,” Harry replies easily, “Remember the song I wrote f’you?”

Y/N snarkily asks, “Which one? Nearly all your songs are about me.”

And well...Harry can’t even argue how true her statement is. “The one titled ‘Never Enough’, pet? Remember?”

Before she can speak, he lowly croons out the chorus of the song he wrote for One Direction years ago, “Lips so good I forget my name. I swear I would give you everything. It’s never enough, never enough.”

Harry knows his sweet as syrup singing gets her immensely turned on and so he’s not surprised when she whimpers against his lips, “Fuck me, c’mon.”

He’s delighted at his wife’s pleas and quickly moves them, leaning forward with her until she’s on her back on the ground of their walk-in closet. He accidentally kicks over a pile of Sasha’s dresses but neither even notice.

There is no time wasted as Harry removed every single article from Y/N’s body quickly as well as his own. He’s leaning forward to suck a few more kisses to her chest as his fingers slip down to crook right up into her hot center.

“No teasing,” Y/N complains, wrapping hands around his biceps and bringing him on top of her more fully. She’s squeezing around his two fingers with need, it has him groaning when he brings them up and sucks them between his pouty lips.

Then she’s not waiting any longer, reaching down and grabbing a hold of his thick length. Harry lets out rumble from his chest at the contact before she’s guiding him into her without any further ado.

“Baby,” Harry chastises as soon as she starts goading him into thrusts with her feet against him bum, pushing him into her harder than he’d usually start, “Y’squeezin’ me s’tight, you missed me too?”

Y/N nods, whining every time he pushes against her spot and sends a zip of arousal through her body. His trimmed hair around his base brushing against her clit causing delicious friction for her.

“No, y’need to tell me,” Harry huffs, hand gripping her jaw harsher than he would if they were having slow, intimate sex. He knew she loved it by the way her eyes twinkle with stubbornness.

“No,” She replies coyly, heels of her feet pressing hard against him to the point it itches with a slight pain. Harry loved his wife so much it was looney.

“It’s fine, don’t need y’to come for me to get off, dove,” Harry replies simply, speeding up his thrusts with his hand holding her jaw for him to press bruising kisses against. His teeth are coming to pull her bottom lip in between.

Something switches in her demeanor though without warning, her voice softer and pliant, “Tell me you love me.”

It has Harry slowing down his hips until he’s rocking deeper into her, going down on his elbows so their noses are bumping. He releases the grip of her chin and instead moves to her bum to encourage her to meet him halfway.

“I love you, s’much it hurts most days,” Harry replies obediently, knowing what his wife needed at that moment. Reassurance. “Most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes on, then you made us a perfect little baby.”

She’s looking up at him with loving, grateful eyes, landing a gentle peck to his upper lip and letting her head fall back onto the floor. This is what she needed right now from her husband and he was so good at providing.

“Breaks my heart when y’don’t think your a good mum or wife. ‘Cause you’re everythin’ I ever wanted. Why’d you think I write every song about you, lovie? S’cause you’re my soulmate.”

“H,” She whimpers, emotion thick in her throat as she meets his eyes, “I love you so much. You’re the best husband and dad ever.”

“Baby,” Harry murmurs into her cheek, picking up speed as she starts to clench around him in a warning of her oncoming orgasm. He slips his hand down to press a few light rubs to her clit before she’s arching her back and moaning with pleasure.

“You look s’good, coming ‘round my cock,” Harry tells her, helping her ride through it before hitching her hips up even further and thrusting harshly until his hips stutter and he’s coming as well.

“Harry,” Y/N sighs, her breathing coming back to normal as she roams a hand down his shoulders and back - scratching lightly.

“Hmm, dove? Y’want my cock again? Need a few,” He replies into her neck, ever the teenage boy.

She giggles, “No, we have to catch a flight at eight in the morning and it’s currently four-thirty.”

Harry grunts before pulling out and sitting up, “Y’better have packed my favorite pajama pants or I’m goin’ to be cross with you.”

Y/N now regrets the second round of fun as soon as their alarm goes off. Her body sore from the position he’d twisted her into against the shower wall after they packed the rest of Sasha necessities.

They were nearly at the airport with Sasha nodding back off in the carseat. She was excited to see her Nana and Aunt Gemma once again.

Their daughter was in the cutest, comfiest jumpsuit with comic hearts all over it *** and adorable little sock sneakers*** that slide right on and off her feet.

Harry had chucked on black sunglasses, a black jumper with green lettering, black joggers, and blue checkered van with white socks. He was attempting to fly under the radar as much as possible because he knew paparazzi just sit outside the entrances to spot celebrities. ***

It was annoying but he could deal with it when he was mobbed at the airport when he was by himself. But when it was with his wife and baby - he couldn’t stomach it. It’s part of the reason they fly private from a private port.

When they pull up to the curb, a staff member is waiting for them and helps Harry as well as the driver put his luggage on a cart to be brought to the awaiting jet.

Y/N unbuckles the baby who is awake now but bleary-eyed as she’s sitting on the curve of her mother’s hip.

And well - that’s when the madness begins. A pap spots them within seconds of exiting the car and is pulling up his camera for the first shots, the other photographers sitting around follow suit.

As soon as one of them screams, “Harry Styles - look this way!” The jam packed area looks towards them, seeming fans of his start murmuring before following behind the paparazzi pulling their phones out.

Y/N is used to the crowds by now - but just like Harry, not with Sasha around. They tried to avoid situations like this as much as possible. The lights and loud noises were scary to the little girl.

“Mummy,” Sasha whines, picking her head up from her mother’s shoulder to stare wide-eyed at the gathering in front of them.

Harry started to feel anxiety because this was becoming a massive crowd - scratch that, it wasn’t a crowd it was a fucking mob of people. They were all too close, blinding the family with their flashes despite security attempting to push them back.

Fans were shoving and thrusting their phones in Harry’s face, shoving random things for him to sign in front of him. Paparazzi were screaming questions and taking thousands of pictures in a minute’s time.

Harry grabs onto Y/N’s hand tightly, their diaper bag on Harry’s shoulder, and begins to attempt to guide them through the swarm. It was like trying to move through cement, the crowd not budging despite security’s screams.

Sasha is full blown crying at this point into her mother’s neck. Y/N’s hand cupping the back of her head to keep her head down and out of the photographs - holding her as tightly as possible.

Y/N can hear Harry began to curse - signaling that he’s becoming stressed out because he would usually never be rude to the public despite their actions. But he couldn’t give a fuck when it came to his family.

“Move out of the way.”

“D’you not see I have a fuckin’ baby?”

“Get those fuckin’ cameras out of their faces.”

“Back the fuck away from my wife and baby.”

Then Y/N is being shoved by a teenage girl who trips when she thrusts her arm towards Harry. She tumbles into Y/N with her full weight and Y/N’s loses her footing, falling forward - letting go of Harry’s hand.

When she falls, she manages to catch herself with the arm that’s not holding her daughter. But she feels pain in her knees and Sasha emits a sharp wail that alerts Y/N her daughter is hurt.

“Sash, fuck,” Y/N gasps, her motherly instincts automatically kicking in and she’s cradling her daughter as tightly to her chest as she can, shielding her from the swarm who had quieted only a bit.

It must take Harry a second to realize that something had happened, he turns around - eyes frantic as he absolutely roars, “Back the fuck up! I’ll fuckin’ break each and everyone of your cameras! Fucking leeches.”

With that, he’s helping to pull you up and grasping at the two, “Are you okay? Wha’s hurt?”

Y/N just shakes her head, having a panic attack as she shuffles the crying baby into his arms. “Please, just...Sasha. I think she hurt her arm when I fell.”

“Daddy, ouch,” Sasha shrieks loudly into his sweatshirt as he hikes her up onto his chest, her little legs wrapped around his midsection.

“Ssh, y’okay,” Harry tries to reassure her, matching his wife’s panic.

The crowd seems to give way now, the parents rushing their daughter into the airport.

Employees guide them to the medical office on-site where it’s now silent and calm but the family feels anything but.

Sasha’s sobs have turned into moans and whimpers at this point - but come back with a vengeance when Harry has to set her on the exam table and wrestle her out of her clothes until she’s just sat in her diaper.

The nurse was so amazing and kind. She checked Sasha thoroughly for any signs of trauma or broken bones but luckily, it was just a nasty scrape on her forearm that was hurting her. It wasn’t anything serious.

The parents had such concern for their daughter that Y/N didn’t even realize she had bled through her white joggers at the knees ***. The nurse frowns, “Honey, you’re still bleeding.”

“I’m fine,” She insisted even though her knees were aching.

“I’d like to examine your legs, dear,” The nurse tells her sternly, signaling that Harry can dress Sasha again.

He’s digging into the diaper bag for a spare out that they were always ready with. She was calming even more when Harry dressed her in a comfy pink set of clothes with little deer on them. ***

“Love, please let her,” Harry asks softly, pulling Sasha back onto his chest. Her thumb tucked into her mouth and her father hands her a plushie that Y/N had shoved in the bag last minute.

Y/N obliges with the pressure, wiggling the loose fabric down her legs until she’s just in her underwear and shirt - sits up on the table with her knees off to the side for her to examine.

Harry grimaces when he sees the multiple cuts and scrapes tainting her skin. A few slow trickles of blood still oozing from the gashes. The skin is already slowly covering purple and blue with bruises.

The nurse cleans her up, Y/N wincing when the alcohol brushes the cuts but Sasha is smiling again like nothing ever happened and cooing at her mum. It makes them both feel a lot better.

When they’re finally on the private jet, up high into the clouds away from the crowds and paparazzi - it feels like relief. ***

They had tucked their daughter onto the couch with her favorite fuzzy blanket and she’s asleep nearly as soon as her head hits the pillow.

They trail back into the other part of the cabin so that they don’t disturb her, cuddling up on the couch together.

“M’so sorry, I’m such a bad fa-”

Y/N cuts him off before he begins, “If I’m not allowed to be a bad mum - you’re not allowed to be a bad father. It wasn’t y’fault that happened - it’s those careless, crazed people who have nothing better to do.”

Y/N was always the voice of reason in Harry’s head when he started to spiral.

Spiral because his fame was so overwhelming and got his family into difficult situations sometimes. She brought him back to reality.

“Hey, we’re both okay. Just a few scrapes. It was just a lesson, Harry. We just need to be safer and plan better, alright?” Y/N assures him softly, kissing under his chin before resting back - ready to sleep.

“Y’the best. Best mum, best wife,” Harry tells her, encompassing her in his loving hold.

let me know your thoughts bub

come talk to me <3

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fairfowl · 3 years

Text

Lie There and Breathe pt 4: Awake

A horde clone oc story (part one here, part two here, part three here)

tw: gore, ableism, eye trauma, pneumonia, suicidal implications, mentioned disordered eating, horde typical cult mentality (it's only a little sad I'm just being cautious)

Time seemed to stretch out like the empty space between stars. The chaos of the healing tent continued to ebb and flow but the clone did not move from his cot.

While he was much more comfortable now that his head was no longer swathed in gore-soaked bandages, he was still more drained than he could ever remember being. He felt dizzy and tired, and his covered left eye throbbed unceasingly. Sometimes it hurt so much that the clone found himself wishing that it had been simply ripped out rather than left in it's socket to ache.

In the long hours he saw other patients come and go, wheeled in and out on gurneys by teal robed apprentices. The sickest and most injured were removed, while patients with grisly hastily-treated wounds were brought in. The clone assumed that the new ones were being pulled straight off of the battlefield or from emergency camps. It must have been some time since the battle had ended but the clone knew that all cleanups took time.

He was relieved to find that clones and Etherians were both being brought in, and that his brothers seemed to be treated fairly so far.

The clone wondered what his brothers were doing, spread throughout Etheria, cut off from the hivemind. He wondered how many thousands were now wandering the planet, maybe they were seeking each other out in the same way that he had sought The Breather.

Far into space ships filled with countless brothers must have been traveling without direction, lost and purposeless. The clone hoped that they were responding to the crisis better than he was, he hoped that they were able to communicate effectively even without the comforting network of the hivemind, that they felt a similar need to survive and preserve the lives of their brothers.

He hoped that if they felt the same will to live as him they were less helpless to act upon it.

The clone rolled over with a sigh, facing towards the canvas wall of the tent when he could no longer bear to look upon the injured and their healers.

Everything had become overwhelming.

The voices of the injured, the sound of the wind on the walls of the tent, even the continuous rasping of The Breather seemed cacophonous and the noises rang sharply inside his aching head. His left eye throbbed in its socket and the ever looming tide of panic once more rose within him.

Since the fall of Prime the clone had been hanging onto his composure as though it were a lifeline, knowing that if he gave in to fear then he risked losing what little control that he had over his own fate, but now the truth set in. He had no control. He was stuck, too weak to even sit up from the cot where he lay.

He had no way of knowing how long it had been since he’d awoken in the tent, but the clone did know that aside from the water earlier he’d had no sustenance. Oral ingestion was not the clones’ usual method of sustaining themselves, but it was utilized on ground campaigns with some frequency and the clone had eaten before although he was not fond of the sensation. Now as his body felt as though it were crying out he wondered if he could even tolerate solid food if it was offered.

For all that Prime had gifted them with sharp canines and strong molars their systems needed time to acclimate to solids, and even on ground campaigns it was standard practice to process food before consumption. Very few of them had ever ingested anything that they would have needed to chew.

Maybe he, The Breather, and all of their brothers were going to starve to death here on Etheria.

Maybe that's what Prime would have wanted.

The clone tried to curl in on himself but his limbs would not cooperate. He was dimly aware of his breaths growing shorter and his shoulders starting to shake, but it was if the sensations belonged to someone else. It was as if he was feeling an echo through the hivemind.

But the hivemind was dead.

All of them were dead.

He was crying again, short choked sobs rocked his frame as tears once again wet the bandages on his face. This time he could see, and the tears were not of relief.

The clone could see carnage and pain and chaos, he could see his brothers torn apart, but he could not feel them. He was weak and disfigured and alone, and he could hardly breathe from crying.

The clone did not wail, he did not scream or curse, but he wept. He wept and could not stop.

~~~

He did not know how long he lay there, lost within himself, a slave to his own fear, but by the time that a hand met his back and jostled the clone out of his misery it seemed that it had been an eternity. The clone stilled.

His tears had dried up but he felt yet more exhausted than before. The clone found that he was furious with himself. He had given in. He had lost control. Something soured deep within his chest at the thought that he had curled up and cried, and in his negligence failed to keep watch over his friend beside him. His self-appointed task was the one thing that he had been able to do since his injury and now his attention had lapsed. How could he be so selfish?

He ignored the hand on his shoulder for a moment longer to listen for The Breather. He listened and listened, but the steady rasp failed to make itself known.

The space beside him yielded only silence.

As quickly as he could the clone rolled himself over, the ensuing pain from his sudden movement lost in a spike of terror that overrode all else.

As he turned the clone was met by the concerned face of The Breather; awake and reaching towards the clone across the void. The familiar face was drawn but alert, his green eyes open as he propped himself up on his elbow.

"Oh!" The clone half choked as he tried to speak. He felt his heart stutter along with his voice as terror turned to shock. The Breather said nothing but his eyes were wide, surprised by the clone's sudden movement. They both held their breath as they took each other in.

"You're awake."

His friend nodded, continuing to stare silently at the clone from his own cot.

"Yes," The Breather eventually croaked, his eyes never leaving the other clone's. "Was I unconscious for long?"

The clone sniffed and quickly wiped his face, wincing as his clumsy hand made contact with the pulverized flesh beneath his bandages. He took a long breath and tried not to look pathetic.

"I don't know." The clone answered honestly. As he pulled himself together he felt once again like a dutiful agent of Horde Prime; one who was communicating pertinent mission details to a fellow soldier. The feeling was comforting but fleeting.

His friend was wheezing again.

"I have been awake intermittently for at least a day and a half" He continued, not letting his eye leave The Breather's face. "In that time you have slept beside me without waking."

For a moment The Breather seemed to draw into himself, his eyes grew distant. The clone waited, his friend had been silent for so long that it seemed no struggle to wait now. Even if he never spoke again the clone felt that he would be content to know that The Breather was alive and awake.

Eventually the other clone bowed his head, before pulling himself into a curled position on the cot. He was still in the propped half-sitting position but he lay facing the clone, he looked as drained as the clone felt.

"The hivemind is gone." He said eventually, a dull finality to his tone. "If we are cut off from the hivemind, why are we still alive?"

"I don't know." The clone answered honestly.

"It's so quiet!" His friend whispered, looking anguished as his hands rubbed roughly against his ears. The clone felt his own twitch in response and found himself pushing aside a shock of pain as his cut left ear pulled against its stitches.

“It is, it is.” The clone agreed. He kept his tone even, afraid to startle his friend. “But we are alive.”

“Why are we alive?”

“I don’t know.” It was strange to listen to his friend after he had been silent for so long, and stranger still to hear his own thoughts reflected back to him. Those thoughts did not hum through the hivemind, but were carried by the rasping voice of his new friend. “But we are. We are alive and if we want to remain so then we must be calm and not alarm the Etherians.”

“The Etherians!” His friend scoffed. “Why should we care what the Etherians think? Why should we care if they kill us, if Prime is not here why should we remain?”

A wave of frustration overtook the clone as he watched his companion lose his composure. He did not know if the fury stemmed from the behavior of his friend or his own thoughts and he didn’t find that he cared enough to dwell on it. If this emotional outburst continued it would surely draw attention to both of them, and after worrying so much about keeping The Breather alive it was unthinkable to imagine him throwing both of their lives away for nothing.

Prime was dead.

Why should he care what Prime wanted? Prime couldn’t control him from beyond the grave, couldn’t help or guide him. Horde Prime was useless to him now.

“We are still here.” The clone said gravely, feeling his brow crease sternly although the expression was obscured by the white bandages that bound his head. “Even if Prime is gone we are still here. I have decided to keep myself alive, and if I can I’d like to keep you alive as well.”

“Why?”

“Because I want to.” And it was as simple as that.

His friend looked as though he was going to continue to argue but as he inhaled the breath seemed to get stuck in his throat, pulling the other clone into a fit of sharp forceful coughs. His shoulders shook as he wrapped his arms around his bandaged chest clutching at some unseen wound.

Startled, the clone reached out, running his fingers across his companion’s heaving shoulder. He hadn't expected this. This intensity of emotion.

Really he hadn't expected anything. He'd been living moment to moment when not wallowing in despair, and the idea of what would happen once The Breather awoke had barely crossed his mind. He'd wondered if his companion would be disgusted by him, but he hadn't stopped to consider anything else. Now his new friend was before him, awake, upset, and in the midst of a coughing fit that seemed as though it was going to go on forever, and the clone had no idea what to do.

It hurt—the not knowing, the helplessness—in a way that he had never felt before. The sharp ache in his chest was entirely new. His whole life had always followed a set path, he had always followed orders and obeyed the word of Horde Prime, and where had it gotten him?

His companion's coughing eventually weakened, quieting to painful sounding gasps. The clone watched on, unable to do more than stroke his arm in long slow movements. He hoped that it was calming. He hoped that it meant something.

A moment of inspiration struck him as the gasps turned to wheezing. The clone reached for the half-full cup of water that he had abandoned on the small folding table that Dawn had left behind after re-wrapping his bandages. He didn't give himself time to hesitate before grabbing the cup and offering it to his companion. He pressed the cool ceramic against his shoulder and waited until his friend’s attention turned.

"Wet your throat." The clone said, when his friend finally looked at him. "Slowly. It will help.”

He was still dizzy, still exhausted, but the clone needed to comfort the other however he could. Although he could not feel the echoes of his companion’s terror through the hivemind he could see it on his face and hear it in his voice, and like a phantom pain it hurt to watch.

With slow hesitant movements his friend reached for the cup, and he guided it into his hands, mindful of the bandaged fingers. Reaching his arm as far as he could stretch the clone supported the vessel, providing stability to his companion’s shaky hands. And his friend drank, slowly.

As he sipped on the water his breathing slowed. While his breaths were still short and pained, the terror in his eyes cleared bit by bit. The clone watched as his friend took in their surroundings, his bright green eyes flitting from palace to place, from the patients on their cots to the healers in their white and teal robes. His gaze lingered on the sunlight glittering through the curtained door of the healing tent, and the clone glanced after him, only looking away as his head throbbed from the light. His bad eye was pulsing with his heartbeat and though the clone did his best to ignore it the ever constant discomfort followed him.

Eventually his friend lowered the cup and looked at him gravely.

“You said that you wanted to keep me alive. Why?”

“Because you were here.” The clone said.

It had all seemed so simple before, but now his clumsy words could not give justice to his motives. The feelings were so bright and pure, his desire to survive hummed through his core the way that the Words of Horde Prime should have. It was like distilled light, like hunger. Simple and organic and so suddenly obvious, despite the fact that mere days ago he would have gladly sacrificed himself for Prime and watched his brothers die in droves.

“I couldn’t be alone, and you were here.”

His friend’s hands tightened on the ceramic cup, and he looked down. He didn’t understand.The clone felt his heart sink.

But then something in his friend’s posture shifted. He seemed softer, somehow.

“Thank you.” He said. While his friend still wouldn’t look at him, the clone felt his heart lighten at his friend’s words. He hadn’t done anything for acknowledgement—praise was more alien to him than the Etherian Healers that surrounded them—but it was a relief to hear something positive.

His arm was getting sore, stretched out to support the cup, and he nudged it upwards, encouraging his companion to take another sip. His friend obliged, carefully. The clone suspected that the ease with which he took the water was due to the fact that he had eaten and drank orally before, he wondered if the other clone was a ground soldier like he was.

Earlier—While he lay blind on the cot— he had heard the sounds of other brothers choking and coughing, likely a response to their need for hydration and nutrients coming in conflict with a lack of amniotic fluid within the healers’ tent. The clone supposed that it was lucky that he and his friend were more practiced at swallowing than some. His first few times had taken some perseverance.

His friend finished the water, and passed the cup back to him, and the clone pondered over what they would need to do next.

So far his strategy had been to lay as quietly as possible and not draw attention to themselves, but that plan could only be viable for so long. The clone could tell already that he needed nutrients, as well as further medical care. From what he had observed from Dawn and Mendus the bandages that stretched across his face covered carnage that was far from healed.

At some point while he had been unconscious someone had tended to his friend, but the clone had no idea what kind of injuries hid beneath The Breather’s bandages. Something was hurt inside of him, that much the clone could tell. His breaths wheezed with each inhale and they were short as though the very act of breathing pained his friend. There were also bandages wrapped around the other clone’s foot and hand.

He placed the cup back onto Dawn’s table.

Dawn.

She and Mendus had been kind to him despite the fact that he was their captive, they had changed his bandages and treated his wounds. If he wanted to have his injuries seen to, and to ensure the health of his friend, then they would be helpful allies. He was hopeful that they would at least.

Laying back he let out a long breath. His arm dangled over the side of the cot as he closed his eye and let his head rest against the cot. He would need to make contact with Dawn again, she would be their best chance at moving forward. If he managed to get more information about their fates from her then the clone would be able to plan properly. He wondered what they were going to do now.

He had always been a soldier, maybe he would conquer in the name of Etheria. While the clone had no loyalty to them if it meant his continued survival he thought he could do it. The very thought felt like a sin, as though he were being disloyal to Horde Prime, but Horde Prime was dead. If he planned on being loyal to the dead then he might as well have died along with him.

Maybe he would be afforded some leniency if he volunteered his service. The clone was not sure how useful he would be now—his left eye was almost certainly permanently damaged if not entirely ruined—but once he regained his strength his limbs would be as strong as ever. If the clone proved that he was useful he might be able to protect his companion in some way. Perhaps they would receive better nutrition or shelter than those who resisted.

“I wish I could tell what you were thinking.” His friend murmured. “Without the hivemind I might as well try to feel the mind of a stone.”

“I was just… just wondering.” The clone replied, unsure of how to voice his thoughts.

“Wondering?”

“Wondering how to keep us safe.” It felt silly. Just days ago he would have been understood entirely. Silently. It was the sort of thing that they had known about one another intuitively; and they had all been so similar, so devoted to Horde Prime, that they were as many extensions of one person. One Little Brother.

Now he was one. Himself. The clone wasn’t sure if he liked that, but he decided that now wasn’t the time to be upset about such things. It wasn’t as though any of them had any choice. Now if he was to make himself understood then he would have to explain his thoughts.

A hand reached over to brush against his fingers, instinctively he caught it and held.

For a moment they lay in silence their hands clasped together in the voice between their cots, contemplative but trapped within their own minds.

“I am going to keep us safe.” He vowed, his one good eye staring intently at the canvas ceiling of the tent. “I don’t know how yet, but I will. We will find a way to survive this.”

“Okay.”

*****

I cry when I'm hungry too lol

“companion’s” etymology breaks down into “one with whom you break bread” I like that a lot

I’m adding the “disordered eating” tag because the way that the clones have learned to consume nutrients is inherently disordered. They had no choices and have only experienced eating as we know it (orally) due to necessity, although I do believe that sipping water was practiced amongst the Horde if only due to its practicality. This story is not about Hordak, but I do headcanon that in his case this cultural disorder segued into a more traditional eating disorder

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hqrbinger · 3 years

Note

Immortality can be a curse. Xiao knows it all too well, has always been too aware of the downsides of it, but never has he truly felt it like this.

Centuries had passed since he’s met you, since he’s lost you to the flow of time and the ebb of mortality. He still recalls how he had held your cold body and cried shamelessly for all the heavens to hear, for all the gods to bear witness. But although such pain still lingers even after so many centuries, Xiao still somehow holds onto hope. He has searched for you, every second of every day for the last thousand years, hoping to find you again. To hold you in his arms and give you the happy ending that you both deserved.

So he searches, and he waits. Ever patient, with his love and his hope never wavering. He watches the towns and villages turn to cities, and watches the cities themselves grow taller and bigger and more modern. He watches the other adepti leave for Jueyun Karst, but rejects their invitations to join them. All this time, he remains steadfast. You two will reunite, and he will give you the happiness he could not before. He will protect you from all harm and make you smile, and hear you laugh and he will hold you close and tell you that he’s missed you so much.

And it’s on a random day in the city that used to be Liyue Harbor when Xiao feels the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. His ears all but perk up like a dog’s when he hears the familiar sound of your voice amidst the hustle and bustle of humanity and he freezes, just for a second, a fleeting thought of, ‘Curse?’ racing through his mind before he himself is practically sprinting down the roads, heart beating so frantically, so excitedly because Archons, you’re here.

It doesn’t take him long to find you at all, and his heart melts when he sees that you are as breathtaking as he remembers and as radiant as the day he lost you. He can feel a pressure behind his eyes and against his steel will, his hands begin to tremble. From fear? Excitement? He doesn’t know, but with you so close, with you all his eyes can focus on, he’s so willing to find out.

“Curse,” Xiao says, breathless, eyes wide as he takes a gentle hold of your arm, halting your walk. He almost chokes on his relief when you turn your gaze to him, and he feels like he could cry. It really is you.

“Yes?” You ask, politely, “Do I know you?”

“I’m—“ Xiao starts, something like happiness bubbling in his chest for the first time in much too long, when he spares a glance behind you and sees your company. He sees the way you hold onto him, the way you’re both connected and how your hands are intertwined. How you seem to shy away from Xiao and towards the other male. How there is love in your eyes, but not for Xiao. Not anymore.

Is he—

“No, sorry,” Xiao gets out, though the words sting his throat like knives. He buries his hand in his pockets, forcing himself to school the disappointment and utter distraught behind a wall of indifference. “Wrong person.”

Before you can say anything else, he walks away from you, not looking back. Though he hears how you call the other person ‘sweetheart,’ he hears how your voice lilts how it does when you’re happy and in love— sounding like how it used to when you spoke with him. He can’t forget the way you glanced at the person with as much affection in your eyes as you had once held for Xiao.

Was he… did he make you happy, this new person? Xiao wonders as he walks away, swallowing heavily. He’s cold and it feels like his karmic debt had just increased tenfold. He feels like ’s suffocating. The excitement he once had has become a rock in the pit of his stomach. He doesn’t know where his feet are taking him, he just knows that he is walking away from you, like you are from him. The distance grows with each step.

Has he… has he really lost his happy ending with you?

Yes, he has.

haha.... thank u so much for the angst brainrot catte..... haha.... idk this character but..... haha............ u write so well........ it totally does not feel like there are a million knives stabbing me in the heart rn !!!! definitely not !!!

#i am hanging on by a THREAD.#➶—͙curse screams in agony #ˋ₊˚. curse ebg #IM GONNA SCREAM #my love for dain from the rooftops....#THIS HURTS ME SO MF MUCH #how much i love dain lol #TEARS. ACTUAL TEARS RIGHT NOW #over my one true love the bough keeper... haha....

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ad1thi · 3 years

Text

the memories bring back (you)

part of the 1000 lives ‘verse, aka my: Bucky and Tony are soulmates and Tony gets captured by HYDRA and they fall in love but then after TWS Bucky escapes but Tony doesn’t and now Bucky is desperately trying to find Tony and save his soulmate - verse.

this is a timestamp of Tony and Bucky’s time at HYDRA. reading the first fic in the series is recommended but not necessarily required to understand this fic. you can always read this one first and then read the first fic later on

13 kills (1991)

The boy appears to be attempting to escape, as he presses his feet against the wall and tugs at his chains over and over, even though it must be hurting him to do so. Briefly, the Asset wonders if it should explain to the boy that escape is not possible, that HYDRA does not allow for such things, but it has not been told to speak to the boy, so it says nothing.

“You could help, you know,” the boy spits out, and it takes a couple of seconds for the Asset to realise that the boy is addressing it. “Bet that metal arm of yours would come in real handy right about now. My father isn’t going to pay my ransom, he never does, so you might as well KILL ME!” The boy tilts his head back and shouts the last two words, talking to people who aren’t in the room.

“What does this kind of job pay anyway?” the boy asks. “Is it really worth it? Stealing teenagers from their dorm rooms? You must really be important to them if they fitted you with a prosthesis like that.” The boy eyes its metal arm, but unlike when the Scientist used to eye the arm, there is no shudder down the Asset’s spine. It doesn’t feel the urge to flinch or cower away because there’s no spite in the boy’s look - for all the vitriol he’s spitting - only curiosity.

“I would love to get my hands on that thing,” the boy says, more to himself than anyone else, before giving the Asset a slow once-over, “I’d like to get my hands on all of you, if you weren’t some sort of creepy kidnapper. Rhodey’s gonna lose his mind when he finds out I have a hard-on for my kidnapper. This is some Stockholm Syndrome type shit.”

The boy looks like he’s about to say more, but he’s interrupted by another presence in the room. The Asset looks away from the boy, and it’s back instantly stiffens when it recognises the Handler. It jumps to its feet, sticking a foot out to still the rattling metal bed-frame, and instantly assumes parade-rest.

“At ease, soldier, ” the Handler says in an amused tone, a half smile on his lips. He doesn’t, however, make any motion for the Asset to sit, or any indication that his words are any more than just that, words, so the Asset remains standing, hands clasped behind its back.

“Anthony Stark,” the Handler says, crouching down on his knees, and reaching out to grip the boy’s jaw firmly. To his credit, the boy stares defiantly back at the Handler, and the Asset thinks that if it weren’t for the hand pressing into his cheeks, the boy might actually attempt to spit on the Handler.

“Pierce,” the boy musters out, in between gritted teeth, “If you wanted to talk, you could’ve just called ahead. There was no need for all this.” The boy waves his hands around, as best he can since they’re being weighed down by chains, “I would’ve scheduled you in.”

“Now we both know that isn’t true,” the Handler says, almost fondly, “What was it you said when I sent Fury looking for you last month? That you’d keep us on hold just to watch the line blink. That’s highly unprofessional Tony, surely your father taught you better than that.”

The boy, Tony, attempts to smile. “He did. Never did put much stock into the old man’s lessons. Bit too old fashioned for my taste.”

The Handler tsks, clicking his tongue to the roof of his mouth, “I wouldn’t be so quick to dismiss him, my boy. It’s a shame, because he’s no longer around to drop those pearls of wisdom on you. I would really start cherishing those memories. What is that saying, ‘you don’t know what you have until it’s gone’?’”

The Handler drops his grip on Tony’s jaw, and pushes himself off the floor, dusting his knees. Some of the dirt falls on Tony’s face, and Tony shakes his head vigorously, closing and opening his eyes rapidly. He’s shaking, much like he was when the Asset first entered, but this time, the Asset thinks it’s from anger.

“Asset!” The Handler barks, and it stiffens. “Mission Report. December 16, 1991.”

“Mission: Extraction and Execution. Primary Target: Super-soldier serum,” the Asset intones, “Secondary Target: Howard Stark. Collateral: Maria Stark.”

Tony inhales a sharp breath, exhaling in a splutter like he’s being choked, but the Handler pays him no mind, so the Asset continues.

“Serum extracted at 0200 hours. Secondary target neutralised. Collateral neutralised. Return to base at 0500 hours. Mission successful.”

The Handler nods, once at the Asset, and another time, more firmly, at Tony.

“Like I said,” the Handler says to Tony, “you never know what you have until it’s gone.” Tony doesn’t seem to be paying the Handler any mind, instead glaring at the Asset, and doesn’t even notice when the Handler leaves the room. There’s an outwardly calm that’s overtaken Tony that it is stark contrast to the way he was shivering with anger, and yet, the Asset does not think he is actually calm, not in the slightest.

“You killed my mother, you son of a bitch,” Tony finally murmurs, “I’m gonna rip your heart out and feed it to you.”

15 kills (1992)

It is unusual for the Handler to oversee the defrosting process. Normally, when the Asset is brought out of cryo, it is only the Scientist that is waiting for him, flanked by two agents. Occasionally, the Doctor will make an appearance too, if it has been particularly long since the Asset has been wiped.

The Chair means that the Asset does not remember much of anything, but it has come to recognise the tug in it’s gut, that informs it that something is amiss. It should probably inform the Doctor of this malfunction, but it is a feeling that has served the Asset well on previous Missions, so it does not say anything.

It opens its eyes despite the cold, blinking away the remnants of ice that have collected on it’s eyelashes, and waits until it is ordered to sit up. It is when the Asset sits up that it notices the Handler, and the boy standing beside the Handler - arms handcuffed behind him and an old cloth shoved into his mouth.

There is something vaguely familiar about the boy, but the Asset does not know what.

When the Handler realises that he has the Asset’s attention, he raises the hand not resting on the boy’s shoulder, wiggling his fingers. The Handler is smiling, and muttering something to the boy that is causing a complicated amount of emotions on his face, and even makes the boy shuffle forward as if to approach the Asset - before the Handler pulls him back.

“Dr. Barnett, would you mind so kind as to prep the Asset for the Chair?” the Handler asks, even though his tone suggests that it isn’t a request. “I do believe our newest guest requires a demonstration on the repercussions of non-compliance.”

The Asset stiffens ever so slightly at the mention of the Chair but otherwise makes no indication that it is aware of what is happening.

It has been defrosted in the Recalibration Room, so it is simply a matter of stepping out of the cryo chamber, and walking across the room to the Chair. Without instruction, the Asset spreads out its hands and allows itself to be strapped down, relaxing its jaw and clenching down on the plastic bit that is fitted between its teeth.

The Chair rocks back ever so slightly, just as the harness comes down and attaches itself to both of the Asset’s temples, and the Asset involuntarily closes its eyes as electricity courses through its body, forcing it to arch it’s back and lift it’s head up in a silent scream.

“You see, my boy?” it dimly hears the Handler, almost inaudible over the sound of blood rushing through its ears, “Zola wanted us to Wipe you, turn you into an automaton just like Barnes. But I knew better, I knew that there were easier ways to gain your allegiance.”

The pain ebbs and flows, as the Scientist modulates the dials. The Asset is granted a small reprieve, no longer than a breath, before the electricity is ramped up again.

“Stop! Can’t you see you’re hurting him? Stop please! I’ll do whatever you want!”

Just as quick as the electricity is increased, it is abruptly stopped, and the Asset sags against the Chair, taking big, heaving breaths through the bit in its mouth.

“So we have a deal then?” the Handler asks, and a voice that the Asset cannot place replies, “Yes. You stop, you stop torturing him like this, and I’ll do whatever you want. No more fights.”

The Handler is looming over the Asset’s line of sight, presumably having moved closer while the Asset was being Wiped, and he’s smiling.

“Brilliant,” the Handler is looking at the Asset, but the words are meant for someone else. “First order of business - you’re going to upgrade the Asset’s arm. I don’t think it’s been worked on since the 1950s, and that’s an awfully long time, don’t you think?”

“Soldier,” the Handler says, and now the Handler is talking to the Asset, “It’s time you met your new partner in crime. Anthony Edward Stark, Designation: Assistant.”

The Asset spits out the bit, because its hands are still strapped down, and repeats, “Anthony Edward Stark, Designation: Assistant.”

Next to the Handler, the boy, the Assistant, attempts to smile, but it comes out as a grimace.

continue reading on ao3!!

#my writing #buckytony #winteriron #ironwinter #bucky/tony #bucky x tony #bucky barnes/tony stark #bucky barnes x tony stark #soulmates AU #1000 lives (for you) au #the memories bring back (you)#HYDRA tony stark #HYDRA bucky barnes #this is almost at 1k hits on ao3!!#so i thought i'd bring it to tumblr #so that more people know it exists!!!

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ohnojustimagine · 4 years

Text

Heated

The Shield/Reader, with a focus on Roman/Reader; 3500 words, smut smut smut

This is A/B/O, but kind of... just the bits of A/B/O I enjoy. So like, heats and lots of come but no knotting.

(And theoretically there is supposed to be a part 2 to this, but yeah, given my record on that, who knows.)

It's always embarrassed you, how irregular your heat cycle is. Other omegas seem to be able to predict the timing of their heats down to the day, marked safely on the calendar so they can plan ahead, but your own seem to ebb and flow, as if your cycle has a mind of its own.

And the worst of it is that your heats come on hard and fast, so fast that you've often ended up in awkward, sometimes even dangerous situations, unprotected by an alpha when in full heat, unable to isolate yourself.

Most of the alphas you've been with have hated it, dumping you when they can no longer handle the rollercoaster that is your cycle; always putting the blame squarely on you, too prideful to admit they're not up to the task of dealing with it.

But Roman, Seth and Dean are different. They seem to take it all in stride, always managing to somehow get you through your heat even if the timing isn't ideal, finding ways to work around any awkwardness. And the care and understanding they show has meant you've bonded with all three of them on a level that's deeper than you would have ever imagined you're capable of.

Tonight you're in the Shield's private locker room as they gear up ready for a six man tag match, and you haven't felt quite right all day, but you've been so busy that you haven't paid much attention, vaguely assuming it's simply exhaustion.

But then suddenly you start to feel dizzy, faint enough that you have to sit down, your skin tingling hot, a light buzzing sound in your ears, as if the air of the room is vibrating around you.

"Oh, god," you say, closing your eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath, trying not to start crying, because the timing couldn't be worse, and you hate this about yourself, that you can't control it in any way.

"What's wrong, baby?" Roman asks you, frowning. He takes a step towards you, and you hear him breathe in, the change in your scent already obvious. "Ohhh," he says. "Another heat."

"Again?" Seth says, incredulous, and though he doesn't exactly sound displeased Roman still shoots him a sharp look, shushing him.

"It's okay," he tells you, sitting down next to you, wrapping one big arm around you, kissing the top of your head.

"But it's nearly time for your match," you say, utterly miserable.

"I know," Roman replies, rubbing your arm. "But it'll be okay, I promise."

"We got time to fuck her before we go out?" Dean asks, sounding eager.

"No." Roman shakes his head. "We'll need all our energy for the match." He strokes your hair, looking down at your affectionately. "You know you always drain us, baby, with how bad you need it."

"I'm so sorry, I..." You breathe in, because you're already struggling to concentrate, the ache inside you growing into an acutely insistent throb of need, wetness gathering between your legs. "I don't think I can be by myself. Not here." WWE is a hotbed of the most alpha of alphas, and you know that once anyone catches your scent, they'll be after you, unable to resist the lure of your heat.

"We'll lock the door," says Roman.

"You know we always make sure we have a secure room, just in case," Seth chimes in.

"You promise?" you ask anxiously.

"We promise, baby," Roman tells you.

"Wouldn't hurt to have a little extra insurance policy, though?" Dean suggests, and Roman nods, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze as he rises to his feet. He rummages through his bag, pulling out the chastity belt they'll often use on you when you're in heat. There's a small dildo attachment on the crotch of it, and you stand up, breathing in as you look at it.

Your clothes feel too hot and constricting on your body, like they're choking you, and you pull them off impatiently, not caring how you look, your t-shirt nearly getting stuck over your head, ignoring the sound of the zipper on your skirt ripping open, tossing it aside and stepping out of your panties.

You move your feet wider, biting down on the moan rising up in your throat as Roman walks around you, bending lower to guide the dildo inside you, getting it as deep as possible. And though it feels good, it's nowhere near big enough, you think, fretting a little as he fastens the belt into place, adjusting the straps, making sure you're comfortable. You exhale as the padlock on the front clicks into place, and Roman tugs on it, just to be sure.

The key is on a string that he loops around his neck, tucking it under his vest, out of sight.

"All safely locked away," he tells you, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, and you whine as he pulls away, trying to hold onto him, but he peels you off him with a kindly smile.

"You good to go?" he asks Seth and Dean, who both nod.

"We're gonna be thinking about you," Seth tells you. "The whole time. Gonna be real hot to fuck you by the time we get back."

Dean inhales a deep breath, staring at you, lust in his eyes. "You sure we don't have time?" he asks, again. "Just a quickie to tide us over?"

"No," Roman replies firmly. "Got to do it right for her, you know that."

Dean shrugs, like he doesn't agree, but he doesn't say anything further, and Roman looks at you. "We'll be back as soon as we can," he assures you. "You just sit tight."

You nod, unable to even speak by now, watching them leave, closing the door behind them.

You note that Roman has locked it from both sides, and you know it's not that they don't trust you, it's just to make sure, but it's still humiliating, that you have to be contained like this, even if it is for your own good.

You throw yourself down on the couch, hand over your eyes, trying to breathe through it, need building inside you until you feel like you might explode, and you don't know how you're going to hold on.

You find a cloth, running it under the cold tap at the sink in the corner of the room and then folding it in half, pressing it to your forehead, dabbing it on your throat, your skin so hot it's almost burning, the coolness barely registering. You sigh, tossing the cloth aside, and pace up and down the room for a while, back and forth, counting your steps, but that only makes it worse, the dildo shifting inside you with every step. Your pussy is dripping wet, slick seeping out the sides of the belt, and you feel yourself clench involuntarily around the dildo, spasming helplessly. It's too small, you think, barely enough to fill you, and it's no good, anyway, because what you're craving inside you is come, alpha come, the only thing that can bring you even the slightest relief when you're in heat.

Your breasts are already starting to swell, firm when you touch them, your nipples taut and hard, and you lick your fingers, teasing the tight peaks, pinching them. You moan, too loud, you know, but you don't care, straddling the arm of the couch, rubbing yourself on it almost mindlessly, but you can't feel anything, the metal of the belt thick enough not to allow you any sensation. You groan in frustration, anger flaring inside you, childish resentment at the fact that your alphas aren't here to take care of you, and the logical part of your brain might know that's unreasonable, but your heat is taking over, and you can't think.

But then, out of nowhere, there's a sharp knock on the door and you jump up, guilty. Your heart races as you stand there, silent, watching as the door handle rattles, but the lock holds.

"Pretty baby," someone croons from outside in a sing-song voice. "I can smell you in there, sweet little omega all alone." You hear them suck in a deep breath, then exhale. "That's a nice heat you got going there, why don't you open the door for me, little one, and I'll give you what you need."

You stay frozen in place, barely daring to breathe, and the handle again rattles, this time with more force. You flinch as the surface of the door resounds with a violent kick, pressing your hand tight over your mouth so you don't gasp aloud, trembling with fear.

There's silence for a minute, and you dare to creep closer to the door, tiptoeing across the carpet, holding your breath. And you can hear something, rhythmic, small wet noises, and then there's a grunt, the sound of something spattering onto the door.

It drips down onto the floor, and you can smell it, and though it's not the same, not from your alphas, you're desperate enough that you let out a broken whine.

A laugh echoes from outside, and then the voice says, "Enjoy that, omega, and if you ever want a real alpha you can come find me anytime."

Footsteps echo away, and you back up into the furthest corner of the room, sinking down onto the floor, bending your knees up to your chest, tears running hot down your cheeks. You sob, quietly, and you don't know how much time passes, lost in your own private misery, but finally the door opens, and you look up, vision still blurred by tears.

Dean, Seth and Roman are standing there, staring at the door. "Gross," Dean comments.

"Seems like someone had themselves some fun," Seth says, shaking his head.

"Doesn't matter," Roman states. "As long as they stayed out." He walks towards you, asking, "You okay?" And you shake your head, hiccuping out one last sob. "Oh, baby," Roman says, giving you a concerned smile. "You're really not okay, are you?" He takes your hand, pulling you up to your feet.

"C'mon, man," Dean says, grabbing his crotch, rubbing at it. "Get that fucking belt off of her and I'll make her feel better than okay."

"Patience," Roman tells him, pulling the key out from under his vest.

"Yeah, fuck patience," Dean snaps back. "And just so you know, I'm going first."

"Why does he get to go first?" Seth complains.

"It doesn't matter who goes first," Roman says, calmly. "As long as we give her what she needs."

He carefully unlocks the belt, unfastening the straps, lifting it away from your body. You mewl at the feet of the dildo slipping out of your pussy, the thick scent of your heat suddenly filling the room, potent and undeniable. And all three of your alphas practically growl in desire, their spines straightening, standing tall and dominant, predatory instincts awakened, eyes flashing dark, but it's Dean that moves first, as promised, grabbing you. He drags you over to the table at the side of the room, shoving you down onto it face first, his hand tight on the back of your neck, your hips jammed up against the edge, digging into you. You feel him fumble with his pants, barely able to wait, wailing in relief as his cock sinks into you, fucking you, pumping hard.

"Oh, fuck," he mutters. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

You moan, trying to push your hips back into him, pussy tightening rhythmically around him, keeping time with his thrusts, the need of your heat as if trying to pull his orgasm out of him, hungry for his come.

And it doesn't take long for him to finish, letting out a guttural, bitten-off moan as he comes, shooting thick and hot inside you, spurt after spurt, and it feels so good, but it's not enough, barely beginning to slake the thirst of your heat.

He pulls out of you, and Seth's right there, roughly flipping you over onto your back. He lifts up your legs, your ankles resting on his shoulders as he plows his cock into you, deep and hard and fast, holding on to your legs, his teeth gritted, face twisted up in desire.

His hips piston, thrusting with enough violence that you have to hold on to the edges of the table, your head rolling back, chest arching up towards him, your body begging for what you need.

And you see him close his eyes, tensing as his orgasm hits him, his cock releasing inside you, alpha come filling you yet again, but it only seems to make you want more.

His cock slips out of you, and you slide down onto the floor, legs so weak you doubt they could hold you, but Roman's sitting on the couch, waiting, and he beckons to you. "Come here, my sweet girl," he says, and you crawl over to him, letting him help you up into his lap, facing him, sitting astride his thighs. His hands are on your waist, pulling you up onto your knees, closer to him so your breasts are right in his face, and he nuzzles at them, humming in delight.

They're even more swollen now, taut and tender as he kisses your skin, licking, sucking on the hard peaks of your nipples, so sensitive it's almost unbearable.

It forever astonishes you that he can take his time with you like this when you're in heat, because the man has self-control like no alpha you've ever known, but Roman's special, always worth the wait even if right now you're too impatient to think about anything but his cock.

He gets one hand between your legs, pushing his palm firm up against the fullness of your clit, and you rut yourself on it, your hips working, feeling Seth and Dean's come leaking slowly out of you, gasping as Roman's teeth sink into the flesh of your breast, biting down hard enough to mark you.

You whine as he removes his hand, your hips still moving helplessly even though all that's there now is now empty air, and he kisses your mouth, tongue teasing frustratingly light over your lips.

"Yeah, you want Daddy's cock, don't you?" he murmurs. "Need more of that alpha come."

You nod at him, wide-eyed and desperate, and he smiles at you, hauling you up off his lap.

He sets you down on the floor, on your knees, turning you around so you're facing the couch, arms braced on the edge of the seat in front of you, and you arch your spine, your knees apart, pussy wet and hungry for him.

You pant, barely able to control your breathing you're so dizzy with anticipation, but then Roman slides into you, cock thick and slow, filling you up until you feel like you can't take anymore, and when he's as deep as he'll go, bottomed out inside you, he stops, not moving.

You're whining with every exhale, shaking all over, but Roman can't be rushed.

"Yeah," he says, softly. "So tight, aren't you?" He shifts himself slightly, and you moan at the feel of it. "Never had an omega like you, baby girl, full in heat but so hot and tight on my cock." He lets out a breathless, careless laugh, and you feel tears burning hot in your eyes, your whole being consumed with nothing but want. "Fuck you all night and that sweet pussy will still try and milk me for more."

You squirm, trying to move yourself on him, but he's ruthlessly unyielding, a solid wall behind you.

"You need to let go," he orders, gently yet firmly, "and let me take care of you." He rests one hand in the curve of your back, just above your ass, and you focus on your breath, inhaling and then exhaling, knowing that you have to stop fighting it, that you need to surrender, give yourself and your heat over to him, submit to the will of a true alpha.

You feel your body start to relax, trusting him, and it's only then that he starts to fuck you, slowly at first, but building in intensity and speed until he's pounding into you, holding onto your hips, your pussy so wet with slick that the noise of it seems to fill the room like something obscene.

Roman leans forward, hands either side of yours on the edge of the couch, his body over yours, broad chest pressed to your back. You feel as if you're being consumed by him, fucked until you're split wide open, nothing but a vessel for this need and when he finally comes it's like a rush, ecstasy and relief all at once, because this is what you've been craving, and you don't want it to ever stop, his cock pumping into you until you're so high you're not sure you'll ever come down from it.

But then at last he's done, pulling out of you, and you slump down, sitting on your heels on the floor, swaying slightly, the room feeling as if it's moving slowly around you. And Dean's already hard again, right there with his cock in your face. He gets one hand on your jaw, forcing your mouth open, pushing himself in past your lips, thrusting. And you're way too far gone to do anything but let him take what he needs, your heat meaning your throat is just as open as your pussy, and he goes deep, over and over until he's coming so hard that you struggle to keep up. You swallow as much as you can, lapping up the taste, the rest dripping warm down your chin.

He backs off, and you lean against the couch, exhausted, barely able to stay upright. And you can't even imagine the sight you must make, breathing hard, sweating, come and spit all over your face but Roman, Seth and Dean only gaze at you like you're the most beautiful thing they've ever seen.

"You want her again?" Roman asks Seth, who shakes his head.

"Nah, I'll wait," he says. "We should get on the road."

"Yeah, it's getting late," Dean agrees, and they begin to pack up their bags.

You sit quietly, watching, only standing up when Roman brings one of his hoodies over to you, helping you put it on. He knows it's uncomfortable for you to wear too many clothes when you're in heat, but you need to be covered, and the hoodie is soft, comfortingly imbued with his scent, big enough that it reaches mid-thigh on your smaller frame.

But Seth looks at you, frowning. "Should we clean her up a little first?" he asks. "Can we get her out of here like this?"

"She's fine," Roman replies, no trace of doubt in his voice.

"Everyone's gonna to be able to smell her," says Dean, sounding unsure. "I mean, every alpha in the place will be after her."

Seth smirks, laughing. "Might be fun to stir up some trouble with the opposition, boys."

"They know their place," Roman says. "She's ours." But then he frowns to himself. "Still," he adds, "better put this back on her." He picks up the chastity belt, taking off the dildo attachment, and then he seems to think for a moment before going through one of his bags, producing a small, remote-controlled vibe.

And you whimper in discomforted anticipation, because you know how that's going to feel inside you, your pussy already so overstimulated that it will be way too much for you to deal with.

"Just for on the ride, baby girl," Roman tells you. "Got to keep you nice and hot for us."

You shake your head no, pouting in distress.

"Hey," Roman says, firmly. "You need to trust us." He cradles your face in one hand, his thumb stroking tender across your cheek. "Don't we always take care of you?"

And you nod, biting your lip, knowing you need to accept his authority.

"Hold her," he directs Seth, who stands behind you, wrapping his arms around you. You squirm a little, whining in protest, but Roman pays no attention, pushing the vibe into your pussy. It slips in easily with how wet you are, nestling up against your walls, and you bite down on your bottom lip, breathing out, because even the presence of it inside you is reigniting the intensity of your heat, urges beginning to return in full force.

"Don't worry," Roman says with a smile, clearly observing your reaction, "we won't turn it on yet."

You shift restlessly as he and Seth help you into the chastity belt, fastening it, locking it tightly, securing you for no one's use but theirs, under their protection.

You breathe out as Roman drops a brief kiss on your lips before draping one arm protectively over your shoulders.

"Ready, boys?" he asks.

"Ready," Seth agrees.

"Always," Dean says.

"Then let's go," says Roman, and he opens the door.

#ohnojustwrites #wwe imagine #roman reigns #the shield #roman reigns imagine #the shield imagine #dean ambrose imagine #seth rollins imagine

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mintchocohip · 4 years

Text

sub!bts as pillow princesses [headcanons]

╺ requested | the ot7 as pillow princesses!

pillow princess ~ somebody who prefers to receive.

╺ note | sub!bts x domme!reader. see each member for any other kinks and warnings.

👑 TAEHYUNG | other kinks: spanking, princess endearment | ↬

Squeezed, cuddled, kissed onto the nearest flat surface, adored from head to toe; breathlessly hoping you’ll slide your hand back around his throat next time your lips move along the crest of his ear—Taehyung needs to feel loved. Happiness compounds until his mind is spinning so hard he can’t reciprocate. He’s too dreamy not to act bratty over complex instructions, but Taehyung can follow simple commands to arch his back, put his arms over his head, or roll over.

Eventually, your generosity emboldens Taehyung. On lazy sun-streaked afternoons spent in bed he curls up against the pillow and whimpers when you tell him to get on top. "Demanding princess,” you sigh out the frustration. Taehyung stops whimpering instantly. Hearing that word dazzles him. Thankfully, you sense how much he likes it. Your typical clicks of “naughty boys only learn from spankings,” become “this spoiled princess needs to be taught a lesson”—and Taehyung finally has a title that makes him blush.

👑 YOONGI | other kinks: mommy kink, biting | ↬

！ warning: body image

There are several positions Yoongi prefers in life. Sitting is comfortable. Laying flat on his back is serene. Yoongi smiles faintly when you tell him you want to do the work. Still, he understands the value of luxurious treatment. It’s exhausting. Yoongi doesn’t slip. He’s your angel, and it’s his duty to be cute for you every day. Pious grooming that unholsters the tweezers, coffee scrubs that make him soft, exercise, a dab of makeup, a hint of your favorite cologne between his pecs, and pretty selfies on-demand are efforts to tempt somebody who already adores him. Nonetheless. Yoongi earns it. He needs to. It embarrasses him to think you wouldn’t be able to keep your hands off even if he didn't look like your dream boy.

“I’m amazed,” you smile up at Yoongi, “that my little slut can keep his hands to himself. I look pretty down here, don’t I? You know Mommy likes using her toy without interruption,” a kiss on his cock punctuates the admiration, “smart boy.” Yoongi presses his fingertips into his collarbones politely. He doesn’t necessarily enjoy how lazily you suck his cock when he’s forbidden to squirm, stroke your hair, and beg for more. Yoongi does love the praise. He’s just glad his nervous giggles aren’t on the list of bite-worthy transgressions.

👑 JUNGKOOK | other kinks: collaring, pegging | ↬

In public Jungkook kisses your hair and slips his hand into your jeans pocket with an easy confidence. Everything changes when bedroom doors close. During the early, uncollared days of the relationship you wondered if Jungkook was shy—awkward; or just inexperienced. Now, the collar hugging his throat tells Jungkook it’s okay to shut out every confused instinct. He’s yours. That’s all he needs to be.

Jungkook lurks in lifestyle group chats. He never thought much about his obsession with pegging before reading grievances about entitled subs neglecting the person behind their favorite toys made him put down his phone, stare at the wall, and question everything. He struggles to talk about it. “When I want something I take it,” you comfort Jungkook by digging a fist into his hair after he stutters through another reminder that he’ll do something different if you prefer, “and I want this.” Jungkook smiles and chokes on a faint sound of understanding. He’s breathing into the mattress and the strap buried in his ass, but he needed to check before he lets go completely.

👑 HOSEOK | other kinks: objectification, marathon sex, toys | ↬

Cleaning your home, shopping for you, and wearing more of the outfits you like are ways to please you that Hoseok understands. Sacrificing his naked body is equally sensible. He knows he has a handsome face, lithe curves, and a generous cock to provide. Calling this an act of service for the moments when you need to burn off frustration or relieve excess hyper joy helps him curtail the embarrassing reality that he gets off on being used. How you exploit this passivity isn’t too important. You make Hoseok feel good by enjoying him however you need.

"My chewy-oowie gingerbread cookie,” the affliction of Hoseok’s post-orgasm uselessness keeps you by his side after the silence clears from his ears and his fucked-out world of blurry darkness becomes light, “why are you so sweet? So soft,” you trace circles on his tummy, “very squishable.” Hydration, 3 A.M. homemade pancakes with steaming hot coffee, massage, and baby-talk fill the long, long gaps when Hoseok’s senses are returning. Spoiling such a good boy with the Hitachi and your hand feels correct to you. Whether or not he feels spoiled after his orgasms have turned dry and birds are singing outside doesn’t negate that you’re doing this is out of love.

👑 JIMIN | other kinks: bondage, gags | ↬

！ warning: topdrop

Jimin knows exactly what he needs. If it feels like you spend more time sitting on the living room floor talking to your boyfriend about sex than actually fucking him—you aren’t wrong. If he’s going to trust you to tie him up and make him feel good, though, Jimin needs you to understand everything. Finding that balance between your fantasies, his fantasies, and folding them together is the confidence that allows him to surrender. When you're sitting at your desk tomorrow evening trying to get some work done while Jimin’s crawling all over you and kissing your neck for attention—all you need to do is remember his vivid confessions, roll up your sleeves, and let intuition fill in the blanks.

Flow state settles into quiet numbness while Jimin cozies up to your side and nestles like a kitten. Feeling a little empty when you've given so much is inevitable. “I’m glad I have you,” Jimin sounds extra sweet after ribbons of used bondage tape are kicked off the bed and his gagged voice has reappeared in a crystalline sigh, “you’re amazing. You make me feel… transcendent. Tell me how it felt for you. Please.” You sip the coconut water Jimin just offered you, sigh, and think. You dedicated every ounce of energy in the air to showing Jimin exactly how you feel. Loving him is instinct. This is reflection—and Jimin is an amazing listener.

👑 NAMJOON | other kinks: general roughness, edging, somnophilia | ↬

All Namjoon can give you is instant surrender. Attempts to pretend he won’t tremble the moment you put a little pressure on him are endearingly futile. There are simple things that dig under his skin. Having his wrists pinned is nice. Mostly, Namjoon is just flattered that, apparently, you really like it when he turns his head to the side and closes his eyes like that’ll protect him. You’re bullying him with pleasure, of course. Namjoon is still learning lessons in denial. Until he masters that art, you can tease him with unpredictable ebbs of gentle touch and say evil things to unlock the cute helplessness that only motivates you to handle him rougher.

“Why are you leaving?” Namjoon’s stomach sinks when he wakes up to feel you slide off the bed. “You fell asleep. It’s okay to prioritize sleep.” Weekly edging sessions can stretch for hours. Tonight, you were only touching him for a few seconds before Namjoon’s sleep-deprived brain convinced him it was safe to relax. “Sorry. I don’t want you to feel insulted.” “I’m not insulted. Would you be insulted if I didn’t stop after you fell asleep?” “No.” A few clothed, fully awake talks make it clear. You can smack his thighs to keep him awake during the pre-determined time he gives to you. On nights when he’s swimming through pleasant dreams while you’re needy and bored because he fell asleep before you there’s no reason to wander out of bed and watch porn on the couch. You’ll try your best not to wake him up. Namjoon is more than happy to be available 24/7.

👑 SEOKJIN | other kinks: toys, lingerie, elements of cfnm | ↬

Before you met Seokjin dumping a pile of expensive silicone and cheap clothespins on a partner who barely reacted was a recipe for disappointment. Seokjin appreciates novelty. He won’t complain if you want to experiment on his body for hours. Laser-focus in your gaze tracking every audible shiver that starts at his eyebrows and ends in his curling toes makes him want to hide inside himself; yet, he can’t truly feel shy when he only feels grateful to entertain you.

“Couples should match.” Seokjin states it with a twinge of irony. Wearing matching shoes in public gives him butterflies. Your suggestion of matching lingerie underneath sweatshirts and jeans gives him so many butterflies it hurts. Being the center of attention isn’t painless. Following protocol after you arrive home from a date doesn’t make it easier. Undressing while his girlfriend watches and waits fully-clothed makes his ears burn. When he’s finally down to bare necessities the kisses of crimson lipstick you cross up his skin mapping your favorite places around his pantyline and skimming close to the trim of the bralette disappear in red-on-red. His whole body is glowing hot. If he defended his pride by undressing you and kissing you back his hand might be less shaky when you hold it. Telling Seokjin to lay down on the floor and focus on nothing more than the beautiful view while you undress to do your work is absolution. He did enough. Right now, he just needs to relax.

#sub!bts #domme!reader #member x reader #ot7 post #sub!taehyung #sub!yoongi #sub!jungkook #sub!hoseok #sub!jimin #sub!namjoon #sub!seokjin #mch #headcanon

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notgonnarememberthis · 3 years

Text

Pillars

Surprise!!! I didn't have intention of publishing a oneshot but this popped into my mind a couple of hours ago and it was just too good to ignore. I don't write Ainsley much so it was a lovely change to have her voice in my mind for a change and it was really fun to explore a more vulnerable aspect of her. Especially since her weakness appears to be her family being in danger. It was really fun to write and I hope y'all enjoy this as much as I did

Ainsley wakes up to the sound of a scream. It’s so loud it pierces through the walls. She startles, feeling her heart pounding in her ears. It takes her a few seconds to realize it wasn’t from her dream. The scream is very much real. She’s never heard anything like it, so full of pain and terror. Then she realizes it sounds very familiar.

“Mom.”

The rate at which she’s on her feet and running is dizzying. She almost rips her phone from the wall it’s plugged into with her urgency to move. Her bare feet echo on the floors as she races down the hall. She curses her urgency for privacy from when she moved in almost a year ago, insisting that she’ll need her own space since she’s been used to living alone for so long.

Her mother’s scream still echoing in her head makes her hate every step that she was too far from helping.

Her fingers shake too much as she tries to work her phone. Dialing the number almost absentmindedly from memory as tears stream down her face, panicked breaths too short to fill her lungs.

She should call 911, there could be an intruder or a fire or. She should call 911.

“Malcolm Bright, leave your name and number and I’ll call you back.”

His voicemail taunts her as she tries to school her panic. She can’t call anyone but him. She needs Malcolm. He’d know what to do. He’d know how to save her. He’d get there faster than any cop would.

Except maybe Gil.

Finally she’s in front of her mother’s door. She doesn’t even bother knocking, instead reaching for and twisting the golden handle. Yet, it doesn’t budge in her grip. She tries again, then once more before the horror truly sets in. Her door is locked and Ainsley can’t hear anything coming from the inside.

Not that she can hear much over her own heartbeat.

“Mom!” She pounds on the door, tears flowing freely imagining everything horrific her mind has to offer. Her mother choking on blood, stabbed in the stomach collapsing just out of reach of the door, a gun trained on her temple if she tries to scream. Ainsley throws her weight against the door but it’s no use, the wood is expensive and she just bounces painfully off it. She ignores the flare of pain resorting to pounding again with her good arm when the door swings open.

She freezes when a very tired and very concerned looking Gil answers. She thought he’d come fast but this is ridiculous.

Her rational mind comes to as her panic ebbs momentarily. Gil had dinner with them last night, she retired for the night before he left. He had a few drinks, there was no way her mother would let him drive and insist that he stay.

“Ainsley? Is everything ok?” She glances over his shoulder not seeing her mother anywhere behind him. She must have slipped into the closet, probably sitting at the vanity.

“I heard-” She thinks for a moment. Was it all a dream? She could have sworn… It sounded so real. “I heard a scream.”

His shoulders drop, a soft look of understanding passes over the man’s features. “A nightmare.” He assures her.

“No. I know what I heard. I heard-”

“No, Ainsley.” He stops her with a had up. “Your mother had a nightmare.”

She tenses, confusion knotting her brows. She’s no stranger to someone waking up screaming in the night. Hell, she grew up familiar with the sound of Malcolm’s night terrors. A scream, the sound of running, a struggle, and then her mother’s gentle voice coaxing him awake again.

It was always Malcolm though. Never her.

“I don’t understand.”

“She just had a nightmare. I’ve got her, kid. Don’t worry.”

She almost scoffs at his words. Don’t worry? Not even when she was faced against a literal serial killer did she hear her mother make more than a yell. A challenge against her opponent. She always fought back. Always. How the hell would she be able to stop hearing that scream? She sounded so… helpless.

She’s never known her mother to be helpless.

“I can’t.”

“Ains.” She stops, only Malcolm calls her that but it’s enough to disrupt her thoughts. “She’s safe.”

Her face sinks with realization. “The pills.” Gil’s expression only confirms it. The sad almost guilt that passes over him, and she knows. Her mother had talked to her and Malcolm about it before. How she planned to get clean. No more relying on pills and booze to survive. She didn’t want to miss another moment. Those were her words.

Ainsley has had only a small peek at the bottles before when her mother was sulking over Malcolm’s treatment of her. Ones she expected, having seen from Malcolm were there. Valium, Ativan, Marplan. Yet the one bottle screams in her memory now.

The sleeping pills.

“She never…” Guilt clenches in her chest. “I didn’t know.”

“You couldn’t.” He assures her gently with a sad smile. “She would never have let you or Malcolm know.”

“Is she…”

“At the vanity.” He nods, understanding her question. Sitting at the vanity is almost never good. After moving in Ainsley often found her there, so locked in her own thoughts she didn’t hear or see her come in. She understands why, in a way. It gives her space to think, where the walls never feel too much like him. The closet was always her space. Ainsley remembers it almost looking the exact same as when she’d run in to play makeup with her.

She wonders if the familiarity is a comfort or a punishment.

“You want to see her?” Ainsley chews on her lip, thinking. Would her mother want her to see her like this? Probably not. Yet she had to have heard them talking. She doesn’t hear her protesting either. She would not be shy to request her time alone. She nods. “Come on.” Gil guides her into the room, softly knocking on the door before opening it just a little. “Jess, sweetheart. Someone wants to see you.”

No protest again. Ainsley shuffles forwards, suddenly feeling very much like the shy five year old who came to check on her older brother after he had a nightmare. She always had her favorite stuffed rabbit ready to share to keep away the bad dreams. She wishes she had the bunny right now. To wordlessly pass to her mother without needing the explanation. Without having to say what they both already know.

Her mother turns to her, eyes dark from lack of sleep. Ainsley wonders how long it took her to work up the courage to close her eyes. How long it took for them to fly back open in terror. They’re red rimmed too, from tears, she recognizes. She’s never seen her mother cry. The thought terrifies her.

Yet when her mother sees her, the expression changes. A soft look of guilt and understanding. “Oh baby,” She reaches out a hand and Ainsley goes to her. More tears she didn’t know she had left spilling down her cheeks. She rises from her seat meeting Ainsley in the embrace. She wraps her arms as tight as she can around her mother, her face burying into her shoulder. All the fear and sadness she felt melts out of her at once. The slow stream of tears turning into full body sobbing in the comforting touch. Fingers comb at her tangled blonde curls, separating the knots from her own restless sleep. “I’m so sorry I scared you sweetheart.” She whispers in her ear.

She shakes her head trying to reject the apology. Yet the crashing realization that her mother isn’t this pillar of strength and bravery weighs heavily on her. She wonders if Malcolm even knows.

Oh god, she’s going to have to explain her crying voicemail to Malcolm.

“Are you ok?” She finally asks when she has the strength to talk.

“Oh my sweet girl.” She breathes, pulling away just to trace her jaw. “I’ve got you right here, I’m more than ok.” She places a kiss on her hairline enveloping her in a hug again. “It was just a nightmare. I’m ok.” Ainsley bites her tongue at the thought of what her nightmares could possibly look like. Malcolm’s were terrifying to hear about and he has suppressed memories.

Her mother knows every face, every name. Every single image.

Gil’s knock interrupted her second wave of panic. “I talked to Malcolm. Figured he might see Ainsley called and panicked when he woke up.” She feels her mother nod in understanding.

“He’s not coming, is he?”

“No. I managed to convince him everything was ok.”

“Good.” She pulls away from the hug, though her fingers still linger on his arms. “Do you want to sleep with me tonight?” Ainsley looks between her and Gil. A selfish part of her wants to nod, curl up next to her mother and keep her safe from the nightmares just like she did for her after the memories of Endicott started resurfacing.

“It’s ok kid. I’ll sleep in a guest room tonight.”

“Nonsense.” She scoffs. “The bed could easily fit all three of us plus Malcolm. That is, if you’re ok with it.” Ainsley realizes she’s talking to her and nods. Gil had always felt like a father to her, even when his focus was on Malcolm. He always asked if she’d like to tag along to a baseball game or a trip to the planetarium. Anything to make them feel like normal kids.

She still has the stuffed astronaut he bought her.

“Is that ok with you?” Ainsley asks Gil and he smiles, wide and warm. Nothing like Martin’s.

“I’d like that.”

They fit comfortably back in the bed. With Ainsley hugging her mother close to her. She’s more than used to the octopus grip and settles in, manicured fingers scratching her back in smooth lulling patterns. Gil takes place behind her mother, safely cushioning her between the two of them. This way she’s protected from both sides. Ainsley smiles at the image but it does calm her when she sees him offer his arm to lay on to her mother.

They both fall asleep before she does. Neither stir while she listens to the soft noises of the quiet slumber. She hopes, against everything that has happened, that they get to keep this soft moment. After everything that’s happened her mother deserves to be happy. She thinks with him, she could be.

Maybe they all could be.

25 notes · View notes

mooswords · 3 years

Text

It’s all coming back

Pairing: semi eita x reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Tags: war au, minor character death (mentioned), angst

Ramblings: i think ive peaked with this fic. i also cried multiple times writing this but like... thats nothing new sklajsdbk. thank you to lyra for beta-ing and yelling about this with me every step of the way <3

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The summer breeze sweeps through the valley, warm air bringing little relief from the afternoon sun. You can feel the sweat dripping in familiar discomfort down your back as you pull at the weeds invading your struggling potato crop. It’s mind-numbing work, but it has to be done. Anyway, you’re almost-

Your name is yelled, loud and panicked. Tsutomu’s stumbling form is running towards you.

“There’s a man,” he pants. “There’s a man coming up the hill.”

“Is it Tadashi?”

“I don’t think it’s him. He-” Tsutomu throws a look over his shoulder, like he can see through the house and fences to remind himself what this man looks like. “He’s got a sword I think.”

“A soldier?” you breathe, the stone in your stomach dropping lower. Your shoulder aches. It’s still healing, a lingering reminder that soldiers are nothing but bad news. It’s been nearly a year since the war ended, but they like to ignore that fact.

Through the summer haze, you can see a blurry figure trudging up the road winding up to the house. Even at this distance, you can tell it’s definitely not Tadashi.

“Kei and Hikota are further out," you tell him, eyes still set on the figure. "Go find them and stay in the barn together until I come and get you, OK?”

“But-”

“Tsutomu. Go.”

The mystery figure is nearly at the house by the time you make it out the front door, shotgun in hand. Now you're closer you can see the ash-grey hair, the sword swinging at his hip. At this distance, you can also see the nervous smile on his face. Reluctantly, you lean the shotgun against the door jam.

He stops a few respectful paces away, and you let your eyes flit over him scornfully. “You’ve got guts, showing up here again.”

Semi winces. He knew not to expect a warm welcome, especially with how he left, but he hadn’t expected this. You don’t look the same as he remembers - more worn, more beaten down by the ebb and flow of life than he had hoped. There is a new assertiveness that you wear, still a few sizes too big for you to fill out properly but nonetheless folding strong and confident across your shoulders. It speaks to many years alone, being forced to grow up too quickly.

He supposes that’s partially his fault though.

“What do you want?” you ask, chin tilted up. Defiant as always. He’s glad that hasn’t changed.

“I’m… the war’s over. I came home.”

“Home?” You sound incredulous, a mocking edge to your voice.

“Yes,” Semi says, uncertainty beginning to cloud his words. “To you.”

You scoff. It seems the years have gifted you with a certain bitterness; he can not fault you for it, but it still grates at his rose-tinted memories. You were never a particularly joyful child - joy wasn’t a luxury people like you and he could afford - but there was a hope he remembered, a desperate spark that you’d imbue into the stories you’d tell the younger kids. The woman in front of him today deals only in blunt, unsavoury realities.

“Home to me,” you repeat, nodding slowly. Your tone is less than impressed. “Tell me-” you cock your head, contempt in every move, “since when do you leave your home without even a goodbye?”

You can see the confusion in the furrow of his brow. How could he not know?

“I’m sorry, I-” he shifts, looking less like a war-hardened soldier and more like the lanky 17-year-old you knew all those years ago. “I wasn't brave enough.”

“And yet you were brave enough to go fight in a war that's stretched on for years.” You bite your tongue, frustration welling up because you want to hug him forever but you also can’t let yourself slip up. He’s a soldier. He left. You have the younger kids to think about too, and you aren’t going to let him come in and destroy this family you have fought tooth and nail for.

“You seem like you’re doing OK now.”

“Yeah, now,” you bite back. “I’m doing OK now because I survived long enough to get out of the city walls. Barely. You can’t just waltz back in here like you never left.”

“I had to go, they needed me.”

“They needed you?! What about Tsutomu?”

He looks sheepish at that. Maybe you're finally getting through to him.

“He had you?” he tries.

Then again, how could he know? He may have seen horrors fighting for six long years, but Semi left before the city really began to fall apart. You have survived your own nightmares. Humanity is capable of more atrocities than just war.

“Of course he had me, I wasn't going to abandon him after his own brother did.” It's a low blow, but you can't find it in yourself to care. “But that doesn’t erase the fact I was one girl! I was struggling to feed my own siblings let alone yours! Do you think young girls can find work in the city? Do you think I could protect all of the kids?”

You’re shaking now, animated in your fury, and the words are pouring out faster and more uncontrolled than you had imagined. You have had six years to think of what you would say to Semi if he ever came home, but right now you can't remember a word of the carefully scathing speeches you had drafted in those long nights. This is far less elegant, nothing more than the messy sum of repressed emotions and long-forgotten promises.

“You left! When I needed you! You left me alone, just to-” you angrily smear your tears, jaw clenching, “-to go fight in some stupid war they already had thousands of men to fight.”

“You had the others, and I couldn’t just-”

The door behind you creaks.

“Go back to your siblings, Kei,” you say, not turning.

Semi’s eyes are pulled to the proud arch of a young boy’s head. For someone with dirt smeared across his cheek and a sun-bleached shirt, the kid holds himself with something akin to royal grace. Semi would be impressed if he didn’t recognise the faux bravado as the carefully cultivated shield it is. He used to wear the same brand of armour.

“You sure?” the boy asks, a well-worn aloofness in his tone that that shouldn’t belong to someone still so young. If life hasn’t been kind to you, it has been rougher for this kid.

“I’m sure.” You turn, finally, and Semi catches the edge of your smile. He wonders if it still pulls higher on one side like it used to. He wonders if you still remember that secret handshake you made him learn all those years ago, if you still love the sunflowers that used to grow in the upper circles of the city, if you still get that faraway look in your eye when you get lost in the labyrinth of your own mind.

It’s jarring, Semi thinks as he watches the final nasty look thrown his way before the boy disappears back into the doorway. The image these memories paint is so out of sync with the woman he sees before him now, and no amount of reminiscing will bring them back together.

“So… who’s he?”

Impassiveness slides back over your face, the momentary softness slipping out of sight. “His family has also been torn away by this war. We stick together because we have no one else. Not that it’s any of your business.”

“Come on, please,” Semi starts. This is not how he expected this reunion to go. He takes a tentative step forward. “I know you’re angry, but I truly never meant to hurt you. I just wanted to keep you and the kids safe.”

You don’t shake off his careful hand on your shoulder; you’re not sure you could. The fight is draining from your body, and as the anger recedes, you start to see him come into focus. The dusty bandage wrapped around his hand, the lines running deep around his eyes. Maybe you had survived your own nightmares, but you were a fool to think that made his any lighter.

“I’m sorry,” he says, pressing closer. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen to you, but I’d do it again. I’m sorry I had to leave you and the kids, but I don’t regret going to fight.”

“And I don’t hate you for wanting to fight,” you relent, finally meeting his eyes. They’re sadder now, yet he can’t help feel relieved that the animosity has drained away.

You shrug, pained smile stuck awkwardly on your face. “But you still left us.”

Somehow, the lack of anger makes your words cut deeper. They have lost their accusing edge, replaced with a blunt resignation that makes his heartache. There’s resentment rallying in his stomach against your disappointment, and it mixes unpleasantly with the hope he had walked up to you with.

“I said I’m sorry, didn’t I?” He can hear the annoyance leaking through, and from the line of tension that returns to your shoulders, so do you.

There’s a long moment, full of memories and chances long lost to history, where all you can feel is the inevitable beginnings of a new battle. The lamentable reality is that you were never taught how to back down from a challenge; to do so would just send you reeling back down to the bottom of the hard-won steps you had already taken. But haven’t you fought enough? Haven’t you fought your past enough, must you now fight him too?

“You can say sorry all you like, it doesn’t change the past.” Your voice comes out more resigned, less annoyed than you had wanted.

“Why are you so set on the past?” he demands, frustration tearing through the thin blanket of peace that had settled. “I’m here now, trying to make amends and you-”

“I don’t care what’s happening now, I want answers for what happened back then! Why didn’t you trust me?”

“Of course I trusted you, I- I just…” he throws his hands up, pacing a few steps away. “It was something I needed to do. Talking to you wasn’t going to change that.”

“Oh, so I didn’t matter then?” you say, lips pressed together painfully. It’s a wet anger; blurry eyes and choked voice. You had stared down more fearsome men than Semi Eita without a tremble, but his long-forgotten familiarity somehow makes this so much harder. “My opinion didn’t matter, my life didn’t-”

“Don’t be stupid, of course you mattered! Why do you think I left, huh? You and Tsutomu matter more than anything else-”

“Well that’s not what it seemed like to me and Tsutomu!” you yell back, sick to your stomach. “One day you were here, and the next you were gone! No warning, no nothing! Tsutomu was ten, Semi. TEN.”

He hadn’t been there to see the pieces of your life shatter apart, to see Tsutomu look so confused, to hear him ask, so quiet and ashamed, if it was his fault his brother left. He hadn’t been there to see you patch your family back together with tape you couldn’t even afford and promises you literally bled to uphold.

“I was fighting to protect you-”

“You left us for dead.”

“You would be dead if they had reached the city! What was I supposed to do? Sit back and let others die for me while I did nothing?”

You huff, dragging a hand over your eyes. Your shoulder aches. “So you thought the military needed one extra person? One extra body, that’s all it took to win the war?”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” he groans.

“Do I?” you fire back, leaning forward into his personal space. “Do I know? Because I was of the understanding we were a team, and then you left without a word!”

He can tell from your face you are just as frustrated at this conversation going in circles as he is. And he knows you have a point - he did leave without saying anything, and it’s a guilt that still weighs on him. But in his core, he knows he is right too. Why shouldn’t he want to defend his home? Why shouldn’t he have gone?

“I did what I had to protect you and the kids.” His voice drops into a low anger that holds more fury than any scream could. “I’m not going to apologise for wanting to protect what I love, no matter if you appreciate it or not.”

Your eyes dart between his, narrowed and searching. There’s definitely more underlying those words, years of unspoken almosts that had to be forgotten. Even just saying that much dredges up old memories he thought long gone, lost to time and unfortunate circumstance.

“I’d appreciate not being left alone to feed-”

“Stop being dramatic, you weren’t alone. The kids are smart, and W-”

“They were literally kids!" you flare, tongue cutting with scorn sharper than any blade he's faced. "What, you wanted me to let Yachi go work in the factories? Let Tsutomu go fight in the pits? We both know that would have been a death sentence.”

“You had Wakatoshi, and-”

“Wakatoshi died!”

Semi has been stabbed before. It’s a strange sensation; if there’s enough adrenalin flooding your veins, it almost feels like nothing more than a poke. But slowly, a creeping realization will set in as the wetness of your shirt becomes too much to ignore and your eyes are drawn irrevocably down. It’s only then the pain will hit you.

This doesn’t feel like that. This is immediate pain, your words splattering sharp and bright across his chest. He stutters back a step, breaths coming in short and shallow bursts.

“What… who...”

Your lips are pressed together, face turned away from him. The breath you pull in is shaky, and when you meet his eyes, they’re apologetic and guilty.

“The… the town guard caught Tsutomu trying to pocket medicine for me, and they were going to take him but Wakatoshi stepped in and it all happened so fast I…” a breathy sigh escapes you, right on the cusp of a sob. “I’m so sorry Eita, I didn’t mean to tell you like that.”

“It’s-”

It’s not OK. Wakatoshi has been a reliable fixture in Semi’s life for years, unshakable through everything. His certainty was something Semi had always admired. And despite his severity, there was a gentleness to his composure - lifting the kids up onto his shoulders during the rare parades or quietly teaching them how to play knucklebones. It’s unthinkable, for Semi to have survived this war but Wakatoshi to not.

“I’m OK,” he says.

The quiet hand you lay on his arm doesn’t help, only serving to remind him that you lost Wakatoshi too. And maybe he lost you a long time ago too. Just one more thing to add to the never-ending list of all he’s lost to this war.

Semi can only laugh, a bitter, broken sound that echoes in his own ears. It’s an ugly thing; to fight and bleed and sacrifice for a country that has never done anything for you, only to come home and be slapped with everything else that’s slipped away in the process. Of course his selflessness would be repaid in frayed relationships and lost friends.

“I’m OK,” he repeats, because he needs it to be true this time.

“Are you?” you ask, concern slipping in under the blunt question. He wants to laugh again. You always have asked the hard questions.

Your hand slides up to cup his cheek, palm rough but touch gentle against his skin, and he leans into it rather than answer. With his eyes closed, for just this moment, he can almost believe reality isn’t quite as bleak as it actually is.

When he opens them your head is tilted, looking up at him with exhausted but understanding eyes. Sighing, your head falls forward to knock against his chest. You shoulders slump, and he slowly reaches around to grasp the back of your shirt. It’s still messy between you, and he knows this is only the beginning of a long road back to the trust you shared before.

Yet as your arms come up to wrap around him too, he thinks maybe there’s hope for him.

“I missed you,” you whisper into his shirt.

Maybe even hope for you and him. It might not ever be the same, but that is a battle to be faced later.

For now, he finally lets the tears come. For Wakatoshi. For everything he went through, for everything he put you and Tsutomu through. For the simple relief of not having to fight anymore.

He feels your arms tighten around his waist.

“It’s OK,” you tell him, and he thinks, someday, he might just believe you.

#semi x reader #semi eita x reader #haikyuu x reader #this is so sad #and so longggggggggggg #and for WHAT

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emsvegetables · 4 years

Text

“Sorry, I'm not sure how this works (it's my first time) but maybe a combi of 20 and 36 with Kuroo? With a happy ending! 🧡 If it's not alright, you don't have to write it”

hi @dorkyhaikyu this is for you!!! ofc it’s okay :-)!!! i hope you’re okay with it!!! i decided to write a quick drabble bc Kuroo makes me do things like that ;)!!

you were angry at Kuroo.

he left you all alone.

he brought you to his family reunion, and left you all alone with his aunts when they decided to ask you questions about your relationship with him.

“is he a good kisser?”

“what made you choose him?”

“what’s you’re favourite thing about him?”

“did he mention us?”

the barrage of questions his aunts shot at you left you struggling to answer them, and even when you did, they had already moved on to the next question.

that’s when the even horrid questions start to sink into you.

“why do you think Kuroo chose you? i mean, your face isn’t the most attractive, is it?”

“are your studies good? how much did you get for math and science?”

“do you think you’re pretty enough for Kuroo?”

that’s when you decided things were enough. you politely excused yourself from the middle-aged ladies who didn’t hesitate to sink their claws into you the moment Kuroo left the room, and Kuroo let it happen.

so you stormed into the nearest bathroom, and let out an angry huff as you look at yourself in the mirror.

were you really not pretty enough for him?

that’s when you hear a knock on the bathroom door.

“i’m sorry, there’s someone inside!” you try to keep your voice steady as you yell out to whoever was waiting outside the bathroom.

then you hear a chuckle, and you hear his voice,” i wouldn’t mind being inside of you.”

there he was. the man that left you to fend for yourself!

you angrily wrench open the door, and yank him into the bathroom and lock it quickly.

“why did you leave me alone with your aunts? you left me all alone when i needed you the most!” you snarl, and he frowns when he sees the tears ebb at your eyes.

“are you alright?” he’s whispering concernedly and he’s pulling you into a hug when the tears start to flow down your cheek.

“what’s wrong, (Y/N)?” he’s saying, as he wraps his arms tighter against you even as you hit him on his chest angrily,” what did they say to you?”

you pull away from him after a while, and you sniff and glare up at him.

“am i pretty to you, Tetsu?”

Kuroo’s eyes widen when you whisper out the words, and he feels his heart break into a million pieces when he sees the tears well up in your eyes again.

“of course you are, you’re bloody beautiful,” he’s saying, and bending down to press a kiss onto your lips.

when he pulls away, he’s staring at you, and when you look down at the floor and ask,” are you really serious?” he’s instantly feeling his heart break even more.

“of course, (Y/N),” he’s saying, and wrapping those arms of his around you once more,” don’t even doubt my love for you, alright, love?”

he looks down at you, and his eyes are warm and soft as they stare into yours.

“alright, love?” he’s repeating, with this reassuring smile on his face,” smile for me?”

when you finally choke out a small giggle and smile up at him, he kisses your forehead down at you and smirks at you,” that’s my girl. my gorgeous, fucking wonderful, girl.”

hope you liked it, love!!! tbh i cannot write angst for the life of me bc I ALWAYS CRY WHENEVER I READ ANGST!!!!!!!!!!! i literally only can work with fluff hahahahaha BUT I HOPED YOU LIKED IT <3

#kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo tetsurou x reader #haikyuu hcs #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu hc #haikyuu headcanon #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu kuroo x reader

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rai-wick · 3 years

Text

Gally x Reader Chapter 33: Goodbye

Y/N'S POV

"Okay we need to get outta here now"Gally grabbed the bag which he had loaded with serum vials and shut the vault door"You stay close to me and _______. Stick together" He handed the bag to the oldest looking kid he saw"You guard this with your life. You understand?"He nodded quickly.

"Let's go"I nodded, slipping on my mask and we opened the door, standing ready for soldiers. We made our way to the parking lot, sticking to the shadows and ducking as we saw soldiers running by"Stay low!"I urged as Gally pulled out his radio.

"Brenda, where are you? We're here"He said before a bus screeched in front of us. We loaded the kids onto the bus, keeping an eye out for the enemy.

"Wait, where's Thomas?"Brenda asked as the kids got on.

Gally and I looked at each other with concern then back at her"We were hoping he was with you"She began to get down but Gally stopped her"Wait! You and ______ stay here with the kids. I'll find him. Just wait for us"

"I'm coming with you"I replied. He sighed and put on his mask.

"We're not going anywhere"Brenda assured us as we ran off. We ran for the top floor lab when all of a sudden Gally pulled me into a pillar. We saw 3 soldiers running for the outer fountain, one of them yelling that the suspects had the test subject. Looking at one another, we realised they were probably talking about Minho, Thomas and Newt. We ran behind them, blending in.

"Don't even think about it"They yelled as Thomas reached for his gun"Get on your knees with your hands in the air"We turned and shot at the soldiers before they could make a move. They lay twitching as we ran towards the guys, pulling off our masks and making Minho gasp.

"Gally?"

"Minho"Gally nodded, looking back at the window they had just crashed through"You guys are nuts"

"We'll explain later"I grinned as we ran. We ducked, almost squatting as we ran to avoid the spotlights, finally hiding behind some bushels and trees.

"Well, they're definitely pissed"Gally panted as we caught our breath.

"How far are the tunnels?"Thomas asked.

"Uh, maybe 12 blocks from here"Gally guessed. I felt Newt wheezing beside me before breaking out into a violent cough"We can make it"

"Newt, how are you feeling?"Minho asked.

"Terrible"Newt groaned"It's good to see you though"He weakly smiled, patting Minho's shoulder.

"Here, take this off. It should lighten the load on your chest"I pulled off the vest, avoiding looking at the paling Newt. Minho met my eyes and I gestured for him to talk to Thomas as I tried to distract Newt.

"I don't think this is quite the place for this behavior, _______"Newt chuckled before coughing. I shook my head at him, blushing as he tried to grinned through his pain.

"Come on, we've just got to reach Brenda"Thomas came and helped me lift him up. Newt stumbled, grunting as we kept him steady. I saw Minho look back at Gally with suspicion.

"Why are you helping us, Gally?"He asked"I put a spear through your chest"

"Yeah"He looked at me as he answered Minho"Nobody's perfect"Just then a huge explosion went off in the distance making us turn and stare as debris exploded"We're supposed to take down WICKD, not the whole damn city"

"Gally, come on"I pulled his arm, forcing him to look away and run. Thomas and I helped Newt along as Gally and Minho kept check in front of us.

"Shit! Stay low"We hid behind a plant display, away from the view of the police barricade.

"What are they waiting for?"Minho whispered just as an explosion boomed behind us causing a rush of an angry crowd. We took advantage of the chaos and ran to hide in an abandoned shop.

"Brenda, are you there?"Thomas shouted into his radio.

"Thomas, I'm here"Came the crackled reply. There was another explosion, blowing me into Newt who grunted.

"Shit! You okay?"I frantically got off him.

"Relax, I'm fine love"He gasped, rubbing his arm.

"Gally, how much further?"I turned to him, my eyes stinging.

"Not far but we have to keep moving"He replied as I took Newt's arm again. We continued our journey, hiding behind trucks and buildings as fighting ensued"Alright.Newt, we're almost there"He encouraged, looking back at us.

"Just leave me"Newt muttered as we hobbled along.

"Never"I said through gritted teeth. We ducked down as an exploding car flew past us followed by an angry crowd and helicopters.

"Shit! It's them, we gotta go"Thomas turned back to Newt.

"Go without me"He spluttered, blood leaking out of his mouth"You should just-"He launched into a coughing fit, wheezing as I wiped the blood.

"Minho"Thomas said"You gotta run ahead, grab the serum and get back to us as soon as you can"Minho looked at him, worriedly"Minho go"

"He's right. I can cover"Gally added.

"_______, go-go with him"Newt wheezed.

"I'm not leaving you Newt"I told him fiercely.

"Forever the stubborn one"He gasped before clenching Minho's arm"Thank you Minho"

"Hey, you just hang on"Minho patted his shoulder before running off. Thomas watched them run through while I turned back to Newt. He was breathing heavily, black veins covering his face and his eyes were constantly dilating before constricting.

"Newt! Newt!"I shook him to get his attention.

"Hey! Hey Newt!"Thomas shouted"We're gonna try this, okay?"

"No! No!"Newt struggled ripping open his jacket. He tore off the tubular pendant he wore, holding it up to my face"Look, you gotta take this"

"We gotta get you up now"I tried to lift him.

"No just take it!"He screamed at me. I stopped and placed my hand around his"Please"He breathed harshly"Please, _______ (nickname) please. I need you both to have this"He took Thomas' hand and placed it with mine. I nodded then Newt dropped his hands, his breaths ragged as I put the pendant in the chest pocket of my shirt.

"Newt, you need to give everything you've got okay? We can make this"Newt nodded as Thomas gestured for me to grab his other arm. Grunting with effort, we dragged Newt to tunnels as bombs and bullets flew past us. We entered the broken doors of the station"We're almost there, Newt. Just stay with me, come on!"Thomas panted.

"Newt, no no. Hey!"I gasped as Newt gagged and fell onto the ground. His breathing was rapid but Thomas and I grabbed his arms and legs, trying to pull him along. We didn't make it far before we collapsed.

"Thomas?"Teresa's voice came on the PA system"Can you hear me? I need you to listen to me. I know you have no reason to trust me but I need you to come back. Thomas, you can save Newt"I looked at Thomas in shock as we both slowly stood up.

"There's still time for him. There's a reason Brenda isn't sick anymore. It's your blood. Do you understand? She isn't sick because you cured her"I felt my blood run cold at Teresa's words"She doesn't have to be the only one. All you have to do is come back and this will all finally be over. Please. Just come back to me. I know you'll do the right thing"

The lights turned off all around us with just two of the high beams faced our way. I looked back to see Newt standing up, only it wasn't Newt. He turned towards us, his face a mess of black veins, his eyes dilated and a stream of black liquid poured out of his mouth.

"Newt?"I whispered before Newt growled and tackled me"Newt? Newt, it's us. It's Thomas and _______!"I pushed him backwards, making him heave.

"Kill me!"He panted, his eyes constricting as he fought the flare within him.

"Newt I'm here"Thomas reached for him and Newt crawled on top of him, choking him"Newt please"He relaxed before reaching for Thomas' gun. He held it up to his head before I smacked it out of his hand, making him howl in anger. He pulled out his knife and we fought as he tried to stab us with it. Thomas punched him in the face and he turned to lunge at me. I quickly grabbed his arm and shoved the knife into his chest as he pulled me close.

"I'm sorry Newt"I whispered as we fell to the ground in an embrace. I held him in my arms as he lay gasping.

"Thank you _______"He stroked my cheek with a bloodied hand as I felt tears pouring down my face. I watched the life ebb away from his now blackened eyes while Thomas fell to his knees beside me. I heard the pattering of feet but I ignored them as I held Newt in my arms.

Wiping away the blood from his face, I softly kissed Newt's forehead as I felt Thomas pick up something then leave. I closed his eyes with my hand then laid him carefully back on the ground. I finally looked up to Minho, Brenda, Frypan and.....Gally. I ran towards Gally with a sprint, almost knocking him over as I wrapped my arms around his chest, my tears flowing. His arms tightened around me, stroking my hair. We stayed there for a few moments, before I heard a bomb explode just outside.

"Guys, we have to go"Gally shouted over the explosion. He lifted my head and wiped my tears with his thumb"_______ we need to get back to chopper, okay?"I nodded and he gestured for the others to follow. We started making our way back when we ran into some rioters.

"There's the Immunes"One of them yelled before aiming his gun at Gally and firing a shot.

"NO!"I screamed and jumped in front of him, feeling my body ripple as the bullet landed in my lower abdomen. I felt myself fall into Gally's arms looking up at him while the others fired back.

"SHIT! No! No!"Gally frantically pressed his hands on my wound. "______ stay with me. We can fix you up"He shouted over the bullets. I lifted a hand and pressed it against his warm cheek, holding his face. Perhaps it was due to the life leaving my body or maybe I was just delirious but I smiled up at him"Please _______, I can't lose you again"He begged, placing a bloodied hand over mine.

"My captain Gally"I whispered before my world went black.

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

#the maze runner #gally imagine #gally x reader #gally imagines #maze runner gally #gally masterlist #newt maze runner #thomas maze runner #maze runner minho

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sector-i-closed · 4 years

Text

Coming to Terms

Vampire!Seonghwa x vampire pet!reader

Warning: Smut, choking, impact play, blood drinking, reader being a little bit of a brat, edging, degradation, he's a little bit of a sadist oop, but still fluffy moments in here

Peacefulness had settled in the darkness of your room after Seonghwa had left you sitting in the floor while you were still being quite miffed at him.

Yearning filled the depths of your heart and you still felt conflicted because you really felt angry at him but you were starting to see where he was coming from with his feelings in spite of you resenting being a vampire.

Memories of how you had grown to love your master swirled in your mind, reminding you of the times that you wanted his love and perceived that you were only a pet to him that he owned.

Suddenly you recalled the time that he cared for you while you were ill and was vomiting over everything including Seonghwa, the times that he did his best to try to comfort you despite the tumultuous times of your own paranoia and his own misunderstanding of your feelings.

The way that he made you feel loved even though he was cold and stiff towards you at the beginning made you love him more as well as the natural attachment that you had gained to him.

You shifted your position from where you sat, remembering the time that he took your virginity, albeit you wanted him to and you thought you felt yourself grow warmer despite the absence of the circulation of your blood in flowing through your veins.

A soft mewl left your lips as you recalled the way he pounded into your lith body when you were human and the way that you felt about him, the feelings of love for him made you feel happy and complete, though now you wondered what happened to those feelings now.

'Maybe I've became a cold, heartless monster' You sighed softly, feeling hunger and need ebb within yourself.

Your body's needs led you to stand up, the functions of your system urging you that regardless of how angry you were at Seonghwa there was still a need to take care of your own needs before you went completely feral or possibly rogue.

Reluctantly you made your way down the hallway, searching for Seonghwa throughout the dark, dated and eerie mansion.

You thought that he would have been in his office but it was empty and as lonely as you felt. Suddenly you wondered how he had been feeling while you were isolating yourself, having been accompanied by your own painful thoughts but you had forgotten about his feelings.

Which made you feel guilty for forgetting about how he may have been feeling during this time. You turned and made your way to Seonghwa's room while wondering to yourself why your heightened senses weren't helping you at the present moment, forcing you to guess where the vampire was in the residence.

A lump formed in your throat when you reached his bedroom door, mostly because you didn't want to face him but you knew you needed to.

Hesitantly you knocked at his door and waited, feeling a sense of anxiety wash over you by habit and you resented the anxiousness.

After a few beats he opened the door, gazing at you expectantly and his face was surprisingly serious in contrast to earlier in the evening.

"Did you come here because you're needy now, pet?" Seonghwa asked in a monotone voice, not revealing any emotion to you and ramping up the residual anxiety that you most definitely knew you would be feeling if you were human.

The answer came with hesitation as you thought it over, leading you to come to a different conclusion when you saw Seonghwa's face.

You shook your head in response, "It's not the entire reason... I wanted to see you also." Without realizing what you were doing you collapsed into his arms, clinging to him tightly as tears trickled from your eyes from the pent up emotions.

Seonghwa's eyes widened in surprise of your answer as he embraced your shaking form, finding himself pleased that you seemed to be starting to come to terms with your present form.

"I'm s-sorry..." You sobbed into his chest, sensing his fingers threading through your locks tenderly as you gripped his shirt.

"You're with me now is what matters the most. My bride is right here in my arms and I couldn't ask for more." Seonghwa fingered the silver collar that was still locked around your neck.

The only way that it could be taken off of you was for it to be unlocked by Seonghwa and he still continued to find pride in you wearing it, even if you were no longer a human.

"I don't want to ever live a day without you in my life." The vampire declared softly, his cold hands stroking down your spine in movements that brought lustful yet loving feelings out of you somehow.

"The only reason that I hesitated to turn you was because I didn't want to lose my innocent pet. But I was willing to let that go because having you with me for the rest of eternity is more than I could ever ask for." Seonghwa whispered softly, sensing you shiver beneath his touch, prompting a demonic smile to play on his features as he pulled back to stare into your reddening eyes.

"I wanted to give you time to adapt to this. I have always been here if you ever chose to reach out to me and I am thoroughly pleased that you have decided to now." He continued in a softer tone then you were accustomed to, his fingers trailing your lower lip with delicate butterfly like touches.

"It doesn't mean that I like myself as I am." You frowned at him, eyes fixed directly on him.

"Being what you are is what I need." Seonghwa turned and took your hand, leading you to his bed to for you to sit down.

"You can talk about it with me if you are ready." He added softly, feeling that the attitude that he had had changed during the time that you were comatose.

You shook your head, the heat of the desire in your body was at the forefront of your mind and you boldly moved your body into a position to straddle him.

"I don't want to think of anything but you right now, master." You mumbled out of habit while grasping onto his shoulders.

"You're not technically a pet anymore, but you still enjoy the thought of being my pet." Seonghwa smirks confidently, almost maddening you.

"It's just a habit." You growled, wrapping both of your hands around his throat. "Oof!" You squealed out embarrassingly loud, finding yourself suddenly flipped onto your back.

"Choking me isn't a habit of yours." Seonghwa's eyes were as red as hot coals, burning through your own gaze and penetrating your mind and seemingly even deeper within you then that.

"I'm sorry. You get on my nerves sometimes and being a little stronger is liberating." You replied innocently, doe eyes peering up at him with an angelic energy that made the vampire groan out loud.

"Liberating? I can chain you down right now and change that, pet." His smirk dripped with wicked intentions as he eyed you with hunger.

You gulped down the fear that surged directly to your throat, a pitiful look radiating through your eyes.

"You're as cute as always." Seonghwa laughs softly, a mirthful tone that made you feel even lighter in your head.

"Seonghwa, can you kiss me? Please?" You ask in a small voice, reaching out with your small hands to touch his face with loving caresses.

"If it's what my beautiful bride wants, how can I deny her? Especially when she's asking so nicely." He replies lowly, bringing his lips to yours and capturing your mouth in a sweet, tantalizing kiss that melted the residual feelings of your humanity.

Instinctively your hands tangled in his soft hair, pulling needily and aiding in bringing another smirk to the vampire's face as he continued to meld his lips to yours in a manner that showed that he still owned you completely.

Your lips parted for him, a soft whine escaping them that indicated that you were becoming worked up for him and he loved to hear it.

"Whining for me like a needy whore?" Seonghwa asks in a faux stern tone against your lips before taking over your mouth completely with his tongue, taking your breath away at the depth that he explored your mouth and you couldn't resist nicking your tongue against one of his razor sharp fangs, releasing an irresistible burst of sweetness lingering on his tongue.

He growled and pulled away from you, eyeing you with a breathtaking predatory gaze that made you squirm with want.

"Tempting me, little one?" Seonghwa taunts, moving away from you to see your reaction. You cried out and grabbed for him desperately while shaking your head vigorously.

"N-no I wasn't tempting you!" You trembled, lying to him even though really you wanted to make him want you just as much as you wanted him.

"You're just as bad at lying as always, pet." The vampire laughed in amusement, his hand cupping your throat and enticing you to want him even more with the suggestive display of his power over you.

"Not lying!" You whined, earning a rough, loud spank against your outer thigh with his hand that wasn't around your throat.

"You did it again, pet." Seonghwa glared at you, sending a familiar rush through you that reminded you of the times before when you were human.

"I'm s-sorry... master..." You moaned softly as he soothed the spanked area of your thigh with his hand. "You're actually getting off on this like the times I would spank you for misbehaving."

"Please I want to... I- I want to feel you inside of me again." You whimpered desperately, feeling yourself become wet with slick while he prevented you from raising up because of the firm hold that he had on your neck, continuing to glare at you with a sadistic smirk curving across his lips.

"My pet doesn't deserve it. Not yet anyway." Seonghwa ran his hand along your curves, increasing the intense frustration that you felt as the smug expression grew even more intense as his eyes bore through yours.

"P-please I need you!" You whined shamelessly with glazed over eyes filled with lust. He loved seeing you like this and he decided to slip his hand into your underwear, pinching your clit harshly and bringing out sweet cries from your pretty lips that made pride well up inside of him at knowing you were only his.

"You need master in what way? I want you to use your words and tell me." Seonghwa withdrew his fingers from your wet clit and wiped your slick on your exposed stomach.

"I w-want you inside of me like the first time!" You shivered in spite of the absence of chilliness.

"P-please I want you to make me f-feel like that again-" Your words were lodged in your throat, cut short by the sudden shredding rip of your clothing, Seonghwa exposing you completely to him and that alone made you writhe beneath him with several pitiful cries.

"Let me see how beautiful you are, love. Mine." He growled as he touched you freely, drinking in the perfection of your skin as he caressed your curves.

Without thinking your legs spread wide for him, revealing your soaked heat which increased his intense sense of pride.

"All of this belongs to me." The vampire growled possessively, his nails lightly raking down your bare skin.

"I've been waiting f-for this so long... P-please I want your cock inside of me..." You mewled out a soft sound of humiliation as you lied down exposed to him. Your eyes were filled with hunger and moved something within Seonghwa to finally stand and disrobe.

Tension made you completely rigid as you locked eyes with him while his naked form hovered above you, his erect cock brushing against your inner thigh and you involuntarily clenched like a vise around air.

A pathetic moan of anticipation leaked from your lips and you felt entranced completely by the wild look of hunger that showed in his eyes as he closed in on your petite form.

"Who makes you this needy?" Seonghwa asks sternly, rubbing his tip at your greedy entrance.

"I-..." You moaned out loud and pressed your needy, dripping hole against his tip to try to get him inside of you.

"You're so eager... You can't even answer a question properly. I still need to punish you even now." Seonghwa hissed, removing himself from you and landing a sharp spank between your legs right on your wet, exposed clit.

"Ah~!" You cried out, feeling a strange sense of pleasure from the impact of his hand spanking your heat.

"M-master I'm sorry!" You yelped out, even though you wouldn't have minded to have felt him spank you between your legs but the need for him made you dizzy.

"Are you really sorry, pet? You haven't even attempted to address the question of who makes you this needy." Seonghwa taunted with a look of irritation shining in his reddened orbs.

He tugs at one of your lips slightly while keeping his eyes fixed on your face, pulling at your skin to expose your vulnerable clit and prompting you to feel another sense of pleasure at the way that he was handling your body.

"I'm sorry master! Only you make me feel this needy!" You cried out vulnerably.

"The only answer there is, pet." He growled, lining himself up with your entrance and pushing forward with a single thrust.

You squealed out in pleasure as you grappled for his back, your glass like nails grappling for him and digging into his back as he pulled himself back and almost pulled out of you entirely before thrusting back forward and filling your heat completely with his hard length.

"Perfect and tight for master." Seonghwa stared down at you with red filling his vision, loving the way your mouth already hung open with incoherent words leaving your throat and moans of enjoyment from the roughness that he handled you with.

"Ah~ oh! C-couldn't resist m-me could you~?" You stuttered and clenched around his length, crying out particularly loudly when he purposely jabbed your pleasure spot with the head of his cock.

"The only things you're allowed to say is how good master is making you feel." The vampire warned without the slightest trace of amusement.

"But you c-couldn't resist feeling how g-good and tight my pussy feels around your co-" Your antagonizing words were cut short by Seonghwa wrapping his fingers around your throat again, preventing you from saying more as his thrusts intensified in pace.

"Try saying that now you talkative brat!" A sadistic grin crossed his face, a choked moan leaving you as you felt even smaller beneath him as the beginnings of your euphoric high began to tingle deep inside of your core.

"A-ah~!" You squirmed beneath him as you almost orgasmed on his length.

"Not yet, little pet." Seonghwa slowed his pace, his sharp nails almost digging into your neck as you whined out and arched your back.

A sob shook your entire body, intense pleasurable sensations coarsed through you at a magnitude that you had never experienced before. His thrusts accelerated dramatically, your eyes rolling back in your head as you didn't want the feeling to stop.

Your mouth fell open at the approach of your climax, and you scrabbled violently at his back, forcing a low groan to rumble in his throat as his pace slowed again to purposely rip the ecstasy from you.

"A pretty pet taking everything that I'm doing to her so well." Seonghwa chuckled, continuing to prevent you from voicing any words as he fucked into you roughly.

You didn't have a need for breathing since you were now a vampire but still being choked by him was enough to make you high on lust.

"P-please... n-need to... ah~!" You gasped out, feeling Seonghwa remove his hand from your throat and in a svelte movement bring his head to your ear.

"Does my beautiful bride deserve to cum?" He asked lowly near your ear, the violent hammering of his hips against your body resulted in the bed to shake beneath you violently.

"Please master I n-need to cum..." A choked pitiful cry left you as tears streamed down your face from the building pleasure that had been denied twice before.

"Cum for me, pet." Seonghwa growled, sinking his fangs into your neck to help you go over the edge.

Your walls fluttered around his cock, spasms growing stronger as you screamed out his name. The pleasure that you experienced was easy for him to taste on his tongue as he drank from you, helping him to chase his own climax and paint your insides with his release.

"Ah~" You moaned out in pleasure of the mixed sensation of Seonghwa savoring the blood from your veins and filling your heat with his release. He smirked against your neck, sealing over the wound with his tongue and soothing your rapidly healing skin.

The reason for his amusement were the thoughts that danced in your head as bliss settled throughout your body.

"You did well, baby. Catching the intimate glimpses into your mind is always an experience that I'm grateful for. I'm thankful that you are still in my life and are coming to the realization that this is the best for both you and me." He kisses your lips softly before pulling away to stare into your eyes.

"You're more beautiful then anything else I've seen during the time that I have been existing." He manages a soft smile and pulls out of you, lifting your body into his arms and carrying you to the bathroom so that he could clean you up with care.

"I love you, Seonghwa." You mewled, nipping at his neck and drawing a small amount of his blood while doing so. He stiffened slightly at the sensation of your tongue licking at the wound tenderly.

"I love you more, Y/N."

#ateez smut #kpop smut #ateez seonghwa #kpop scenarios #ateez scenarios

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haughtshotgun · 3 years

Note

Hi! I’m enjoying these prompt fills!

Could you try prompt 63 please?

Thanks, Anon!

63. “You didn’t tell me you’re friends was cute! Now what am I going to do?”

Waverly sat at the bar with her sister, the older Earp was already a whiskey into the night. The smaller of the brunettes looked around the bar, apparently Wynonna’s friend was meeting them, but the woman was almost 20 minutes late.

“Are you sure she’s coming, Wy?” Waverly asked slightly annoyed and took a sip of her Chardonnay.

Wynonna waved her sister off and said, “Nicole is a lot of things, baby girl. She is bossy, can be uptight, and cares for rules too much for my liking, but late without reason is not part of her makeup. I bet her cat got out or something.” Waverly eyed her sister quizzically and sighed. She toyed absentmindedly with a coast, running her fingers along the edges when a slap to her arm startled her.

Waverly rubbed the spot her sister had just hit and whined, “Ow.”

Wynonna rolled her eyes and pointed at the doors, “Nicole’s here.” Waverly noted the genuine excitement on Wynonna’s face and it made her smile, knowing that the loner had a friend. The petite brunette looked up and felt the bar around her fade, all but Nicole. Her mouth dried like a desert and she found herself reaching for in wine in a desperate attempt to easy her thirst. The woman was tall, easily four or five inches taller than herself, with a lean yet sturdy build. She was wearing dark wash skinny jeans, a blue and white flannel, and navy beanie over her long, auburn mane.

“You didn’t tell me your friend was cute, Wynonna!” Waverly scream-whispered in her sister’s ear as Nicole spotted them at the bar. The ginger’s honey eyes lingered on Waverly for what felt like an eternity before her booted feet walked down the stairs and towards them. Next to her, Wynonna stiffened and turned, eyes wide and mouth agape. “Now what am I going to do?” Waverly asked, only half teasing.

Wynonna scolded, “You will do nothing, She will do nothing. You both will do fucking nothing. You hear me?” The older Earp scowled and took a sip of her whiskey but Waverly had no intentions of following Wynonna’s rules. Her eyes tracked Nicole as she ordered a whiskey before walking over to them. Next to her, Wynonna was muttering under her breath but Waverly was far too preoccupied, her gaze never leaving the ginger.

“Hey, Wynonna!” Nicole greeted her sister cheerfully before settling on the only empty barstool next to Waverly. The smaller brunette became hyper aware of how close Nicole’s leg was to her own and she took a sip of her wine to distract from the heat she felt. “Sorry I’m late… Calamity Jane, that minx, snuck out when I was trying to leave. Chased her around the damn neighborhood like a fool until I could corale her back in,” the ginger explained with a sigh then took a sip of whiskey. Waverly watched how plump, pink lips pressed against the glass and she wondered how they would feel pressed against her own.

Wynonna got into Waverly’s face and laughed, “Ha! Told you her damn cat escaped. My baby sister here was ready to write you off as a no-show.” Waverly felt her cheeks flush and turned to face Nicole, ready to explain herself to the stranger.

Nicole gasped dramatically and put her hand over her heart. “Well, Miss Earp, I hope we didn’t get started on the wrong foot now.” The ginger held out her hand and smirked at Waverly, like she knew what she was doing to her with that grin, and introduced herself, “Nicole, Nicole Haught.”

Waverly raised an eyebrow and took the ivory hand into her own. When their skin brushed together there was instant heat and Waverly noted the way Nicole’s mouth opened slightly at the touch. “Waverly Earp,” Waverly smiled and slowly pulled her hand back, wishing for an excuse to keep them attached. Something about her sister’s friend drew her in, like there was a magnet deep in her gut pulling her closer and closer to Nicole.

Wynonna looked between the two of them, her eyes jumping back and forth wildly, and she downed her second whiskey. “I am too fucking sober for this,” she hissed and stood up from her spot. They watched as she walked over to the other side of the bartop, right in front of the bartender, and sat down facing the man. “Keep ‘em coming. Pretty sure my sister and best friend are gonna fuck later, so WyWy needs her whiskey,” the older brunette announced loud enough for Waverly and Nicole to hear, as well as many patrons sitting at the bar.

An instant heat licked at her cheeks and Waverly looked down for a moment. When she looked up Wynonna’s piercing, icy eyes were locked on Nicole, mouthing what she imagined were threats. With a deep sigh she took Nicole’s hand and gave it a soft squeeze. “Hey, she invited us here to meet each other right? So… why should we let her ruin our night?” Waverly asked with a small, coy smile and Nicole turned her attention away from Wynonna and to her. Her eyes were a dark, golden brown like wildflower honey and she gave Waverly’s hand a squeeze back.

“You’re right, she did. Do you want to move to a booth for privacy? If she decides to join then good… if not,” Nicole trailed and bit her lip, “then great.” A Cheshire Cat grin crawled along Nicole’s lips and Waverly wanted to grab her by the cheeks and kiss it off.

She took a deep breath in and nodded. Waverly turned to look at Wynonna, to see if she was still steaming, but instead of finding an angry older sister, she was met with the sight of Mercedes sitting on the taller brunette’s lap. “Yeah, I don’t think she’ll be following us,” Waverly chuckled and tilted her head in the direction of the older Earp. Nicole followed the movement and Waverly laughed when her eyebrows shot up in surprise. Waverly shrugged and said, “Lead the way,” signaling to Nicole that she was ready for a little distraction.

“Right!” Nicole said and smiled, standing up with their hands still interlocked.

Once they made it to an empty booth, conversation began to flow easily between them. Waverly watched in wonder as Nicole talked about all of the places she had traveled to and explored. Nicole held her hand as she explained how hard it was when Wynonna went away. They shared laughs, more drinks, and by the third one, their hands toyed with each other on the table top and their feet occasionally knocked each other underneath. Waverly felt like she knew Nicole in her bones. Her laugh was a melody she knew the tune of. Her smile was a work of art she’d study before. Her touch was a comfort she felt at home with. There was something powerful and unexplainable about Nicole. All Waverly knew was her desire to learn more, explore more, and feel more of the ginger.

Nicole cleared her throat and ran her hand up Waverly’s forearm, goosebumps blooming in her wake. “So is Wynonna right?” Nicole asked and Waverly tilted her head to the side in confusion. She searched her brain for what Nicole could be referencing but found it empty as ivory fingers skated along the length of her arm. It was embarrassing how quickly the sexy and confident woman in front of her turned her useless. “Are her little sister and best friend going to fuck tonight? Because I would sure love to introduce you to my pussy,” Nicole deadpanned and smirked like a devil when Waverly choked down her sip of wine. The ginger leaned in, her honey eyes dark with want, and chuckled, “Cat that is. I’d love to introduce you to my pussy cat.”

Waverly put down her wine and looked at Nicole. The rest of the bar faded around them as only one thing echoed in her mind, Nicole. Waverly leaned the whole top half of her body over the top of the table and grabbed the ginger by the collar of her flannel. She pulled Nicole in for a kiss, firm and stagnant at first, both women afraid to make another move. But Waverly felt a flickering of a fire, like a match was lit inside of her. In an instant, she moved her mouth against Nicole’s with need. The ginger followed suit and soon they were in an ebb and flow, forgetting completely that they were making out in a crowded bar. When they pulled away their breathing was uneven and Waverly dropped her hands to Nicole’s shoulders. She massaged the built muscle there and chuckled, smiling like a fool. Soon, Nicole was laughing too and Waverly pulled her in for a quick peck before pushing her away playfully.

“Go pay the tab,” Waverly ordered, feeling a sense of accomplishment when Nicole’s eyes lit up in gleeful understanding. The ginger sweetly pecked her cheek before slipping out of the booth. Waverly hummed at the touch and stared at Nicole's well-defined ass as she sauntered over to the bar. Wynonna accosted the ginger as she tried to pay her tab, Mercedes played with the older Earp’s hair and whispered in her ear in an attempt to calm her down. Waverly scooted out of the booth and waited for Nicole at the front door. She waved at Wynonna when she looked her way but the older brunette only gave her a halfhearted gesture, her eyes distracted by her phone.

Nicole all but sprinited up the stairs, making Waverly giggle, and said, “Ready, Waves?” The brunette broke out in a big grin, it being the first time Nicole used the nickname, and held out her hand.

“Ready,” she confirmed with a nod and laced their fingers together. Nicole set the pace for their walk, both of them enjoying the easy silence until Waverly felt her phone vibrate and heard Nicole’s go off. While they walked they checked their phones, both of them stopping in their place as they read the message.

Wynonna Earp created a new group chat: Break Her Heart and I’ll Break Your Face 🥊

Wynonna: Did the two of you really think I didn’t see this coming? I’m stupid but I’m smart. You dummies just got set up! Haught, read the group name, read it again. This is your first warning. Tomorrow we have the full shovel talk. Baby girl, go easy on her okay. She just had a rock climbing accident like eight months ago. Anyway, have fun, use a condom, bye!

The women turned and looked at each other, mouths agape in shock. Wynonna set them up. She wanted them to like each other. Nicole broke first, howling in laughter as she doubled over. Waverly followed, shaking her head at the ridiculousness of it all. Once they collected themselves, they continued their walk to Nicole’s apartment. She rested her head on the ginger’s shoulder and felt at ease. They took in each other’s energy, enjoying the night, until Nicole’s curiosity bested her.

“So, what should our safe word be?”

#wayhaught #wearp #writing prompt #wayhaught dialogue #this thing is almost 2k #the next two will be even more #i think one is gonna end up being 5k #this is why i shouldn’t do prompt fills #shut up lex #asked and answered #anonymous #wyncedes #wynhaught

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nonbinarybrainstorm · 4 years

Note

if you don't mind, cyberverse perceptor/dead end in master/pet play respectively? dead end getting having a degradation kink? (I didn't see cyberverse on your request rules list so feel free to ignore this although I saw you recently completed a cyberverse request?)

Yeah, I answered that one a while back even though it wasn’t on the page because I’d gotten around to watching it and I was like eh might as well. I’ve updated it now so ye.

~pet time~

Additional content: vibrator, fingering, oral, facial

Perceptor can tell he’s nervous from the way Dead End’s optics are looking down and away from him as he kneels on the ground, flicking up briefly to Perceptor when he approaches him. Walking slowly towards Dead End, Perceptor leans down and fastens a black collar with silver studs around Dead End’s neck, slipping one digit under it and gliding it around to the front to make sure it’s not too tight. Dead End bites his lip and tentatively reaches up to feel the collar around his neck.

Perceptor cups Dead End’s cheek to get him to look up at him, “You’re sure you want to try this?”

Dead End nods and replies quietly, “Yeah… Yes, please.”

“Very well,” Perceptor leans back up and saunters over to the berth, “Then let’s begin.”

He waits for a moment, watching Dead End shift and toss his head side to side in a way that’s just too adorable, especially with how it’s just from nerves.

“Come here,” Perceptor orders firmly, pointing to the spot in front of him.

Dead End starts to stand up but Perceptor stops him with a sharp, “No, on your hands and knees.”

Faltering for a moment, Dead End gets fully on his hands and knees then crawls over to Perceptor and sits at his feet. The dark coloration of Dead End’s faceplates brings a light smile to Perceptor’s face as he pets the top of Dead End’s helm.

“What a sweet pet you make,” Perceptor chuckles as Dead End’s face grows darker.

“Per-” Dead End begins but Perceptor cuts him off with a gentle finger to his lips.

“Ah, pets don’t speak,” Perceptor moves his hand away and rests it on Dead End’s helm, “Try again.”

Dead End works his jaw for a moment before letting out a soft sound reminiscent of a cybercat and Perceptor pets his head as a reward.

“Good, now come up onto the berth so I can give my cute pet some attention.”

Dead End eagerly pushes up and settles into Perceptor’s lap so he’s straddling Perceptor which only gets him a sigh and a gentle tap on his nose.

“That’s strike three, I’m afraid,” Perceptor admonishes him as he gently moves Dead End off his lap and stands up, “You’re being a rather ill-behaved pet. Do you know what happens to naughty pets?”

Dead End shivers as Perceptor leans in close with his hand cupping Dead End’s chin as his voice dips low. He tenses his shoulders and pushes his face into Perceptor’s touch as he responds with a soft, curious mew.

Perceptor grins and answers with a wicked lilt to his voice, “Naughty pets get put into time out.”

Pulling away, Perceptor puts his hand behind Dead End’s helm and gently leads him over to a padded area big enough for Dead End to kneel in, a pet bed really. Dead End waits there as Perceptor goes away for a moment then comes back with a toy in his hand. He kneels in front of Dead End who can now see that Perceptor is holding their remote control vibrator. Without being told to do so, Dead End spreads his legs and lets Perceptor strap the vibrator to his valve cover.

“Now, like a good a pet, you’re going to stay here until I tell you that you can leave this spot,” Perceptor explains while casually twirling the remote in one hand as he stands back up, “I’ll just be over there catching up on some reading so I won’t be out of sight, okay?”

Dead End responds with soft mew and Perceptor leans down to give the top of Dead End’s helm a kiss.

“Then behave, my sweet.”

Just as he said, Perceptor walks off to sit down and pull out a datapad to look over, crossing his legs as he does so. With barely a glance, Perceptor turns on the vibrator to a low setting that has Dead End shifting his legs at the insistent vibration going straight to his valve. Even with such little stimulation, he’s already rocking into it, knowing that Perceptor has complete control over him and the blissful torture centered on his valve. The setting is turned up, the vibration now having Dead End bury his face in the soft pad beneath him and keening, the sensations are strong enough to keep him on the edge with enough to stimulate but not enough to get him to overload. Suddenly, the vibrations ebb, making him unconsciously push his aft into the sensation despite knowing that won’t help before it’s brought back up, forcing him to flip onto his back in his desperation to chase the feeling in his valve to overload.

He’s shifting wildly with his hands digging into the pet bed, keening and moaning nonsensically. Looking over, he can see Perceptor smiling like he’s about to laugh, laugh at how desperate Dead End is getting. That look goes straight to Dead End’s valve as he fights back the urge to touch himself or to go to Perceptor so he’ll touch him, bring him to overload. Instead, knowing the name of the game, he mewls while looking Perceptor right in the optic, and once he starts he lets his vocalizer run free, mewing and crying out softly as he squirms against the vibrator. Dead End can feel lubricant leaking past his panel and onto the pet bed below but he can’t find it in himself to care. Then the vibrator stops cold getting Dead End to make a sharp sound of protest. Perceptor is chuckling softly now as he kneels next to Dead End to remove the vibrator, the soft brush of his fingers against Dead End’s panel being enough to get him to keen.

“You’ve been very patient,” Perceptor praises as he runs a hand up the expanse of Dead End’s chest, “I think my adorable pet deserves some attention.”

Perceptor walks back over to the berth and sits down then pats the spot next to him. Eagerly, Dead End crawls over to the berth then gets on it first with his arms then swings his legs up so he can rest his head in Perceptor’s lap. He pushes his face into Perceptor’s thigh as Perceptor gently pets his helm, gently trailing his hand from Dead End’s helm to his back then all over again.

“Get you desperate enough and you become such an obedient pet,” Perceptor chuckles as he pets Dead End.

Dead End shifts onto his back, his head still in Perceptor’s lap, bringing his hand up in approximation to paws and mews up at his master.

Perceptor rolls his optics with a bright smile still plastered on his face, “Yes, yes, my pet. You’ll get your treat now.”

Dead End shivers as Perceptor delicately trails his hand down Dead End’s chest to rest on his wet panels that part at Perceptor’s touch. As Perceptor’s fingers curl into Dead End’s entrance, he arches at the touch mews softly.

“You’ve made such a mess,” Perceptor scolds softly, running his free hand over Dead End’s cheek, “Such a naughty pet I have.”

Dead End nuzzles into Perceptor’s hand as the fingers inside him brush against sensitive nodes, lubricant pushing past them and onto the berth. He pushes against the digits filling him, needing more and mewling forlornly when they slip out only to rub against his anterior node, making him jump and squirm. Keens, soft cries, and mews are pulled from his intake as Perceptor rubs his node until the charge building in his array suddenly crashes over and he’s crying out in overload, his hips twitching and his node pulsing with heat and charge against Perceptor’s fingers. As he calms down, Perceptor’s hand brushes his face gently, easing Dead End back into Perceptor’s lap.

“My, it seems I overworked my pet, you overloaded so quickly on my fingers,” Perceptor tuts over Dead End, bringing his lubricant fingers up to his mouth to lick off the lubricant coating them.

Dead End resists the urge to hide his face and slips off the berth to kneel at Perceptor’s pedes.

Perceptor spreads his legs and reaches down to cup Dead End’s chin, “I think it’s time for my pet to serve his master.”

Dead End leans forward and presses his glossa against Perceptor’s spike cover, the hot, wet mesh sending a jolt through Perceptor’s systems. He laps at the panel hungrily until Perceptor’s spike pressurizes rapidly against his glossa. Running his glossa along the biolights of Perceptor’s spike, Dead End trails his glossa up to the head then takes it into his mouth and sucks gently on it only to let it fall from his mouth. He licks and mouths at Perceptor’s spike, never taking it fully into his mouth, hearing how Perceptor sucks in a vent with every slow lick. When he looks up, Dead End sees Perceptor’s optics locked on him, his mouth slightly open as he watches him. Perceptor pets Dead End’s helm then guides him back to the head of his spike and Dead End gets the hint, taking it into his mouth and running his glossa along the slit. Dead End shuts his optics as he lazily sucks on the head of Perceptor’s spike, making soft sounds at how it throbs against his lips. Feeling how close Perceptor is, Dead End looks up at him and lets his mouth fall open in heavy pants with Perceptor’s spike resting on his glossa. With a choked off grunt, Perceptor overloads with his transfluid flowing into Dead End’s mouth and onto part of his face leaving him a complete mess.

Even as he’s trying to cool down, Perceptor tugs up Dead End so he stands up and settles in Perceptor’s lap where Perceptor pulls out a cloth from his subspace and cleans up Dead End as best as he can. Dead End falls easily into Perceptor’s embrace as Perceptor wraps his arms around him and pulls him close, pressing his face into Dead End’s shoulder, venting hard.

“How are you feeling?” Perceptor asks, pulling away enough to be face to face with Dead End.

Dead End rubs the back of his helm, looking a little away, “A little embarrassed but… nice.”

Perceptor smiles sleepily up at him and drawls, “Good.”

Then, he pulls Dead End down to kiss him softly and sweetly while pulling him fully into berth so he can fully entangle himself with Dead End. Perceptor’s kisses are lazy and undemanding, just a quiet show of affection that Dead End melts into easily but freezes as Perceptor’s hand rests on the collar. Dead End grabs Perceptor’s wrist before he can think about what he’s doing and Perceptor stills completely.

“Dead End?” Perceptor reaches out quietly.

“Um,” Dead End laughs nervously, trying to shrug it off as nothing, “Can it stay on? Just a little longer?”

Perceptor shifts his hand to rest against Dead End’s cheek and nods, “Whatever you want, it’s yours. You’re too good to me you know.”

Dead End gives a goofy smile at that and laughs genuinely, “And here I thought I was the spoiled one.”

“Hm,” Perceptor hums affectionately, shutting his optics as he snuggles in close to Dead End, “Spoiling each other… I suppose there are worse things.”

“Yeah.”

“I love you, Dead End,” Perceptor whispers, clearly already falling into recharge.

“Yeah,” Dead End sighs contentedly, “love you too.”

#valveplug #perceptor #dead end #deadceptor #nubbs writes #queuebbs #Anonymous

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