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cauliflowercounty · 2 months

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Knives Dance (Part I)

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Reader

After years of writing *literally nothing,* I never expected bald Austin Butler to inspire me again :)

Life does wonderful things sometimes. Feyd Rautha is a fucking snack. And whoops it looks like I invented a planet and a culture :/

Summary: You're the daughter of the Duke of the House of Ronen, and your father and Vladimir Harkonnen have arranged a marriage between you and Feyd-Rautha to join your two houses. When the House of Harkonnen pays a visit to your planet, Feyd discovers something unforeseen within himself during an assassination attempt…

Reader: she/her pronouns

Warnings: innuendo/suggestive content, attempted assassination, blood, violence, multiple murders

Word Count: 4.2k

Part I | Part II | Part III

The hydraulics whirr as the black metal ramp of the Harkonnen vessel opens downward onto the stone landing pad on planet Youra and hits the ground with a low thunk. Feyd follows his uncle as he floats out of the vessel toward the doors of the Youran citadel, which is nestled in the center of a towering mountain covered in dense forest. Through the canopy, he sees the flickering lights from within the treehouses that adorn the forest cover.

The fortress itself is bathed in a warm, yellow glow from the round floating lanterns that surround it. As they hover, they seem to spiral upwards in a concentric spiral and extend their reach up into the night sky. A line of Youran soldiers flank the walkway, dressed in ceremonial garb of earthy, brown leathers with teal accents and intricate geometric patterns. As the Harkonnens pass, the soldiers bow their heads to them, allowing the carved silver helmets to shine in the evening light.

The environment here could not be further from that of Giedi Prime with its cold, industrial landscape devoid of color and the stench of sulfur and gas. The jungle air here is saccharine and floral on Feyd’s tongue. He feels the brush of the evening breeze flowing past him out toward the sea from the surrounding jungle. As he breathes in, he notices the richness of the air, imbued with the essence of all the flora that have made Youra a treasure trove for natural resources and experimental medicines, reminding him why he and his uncle have arrived on this planet.

The endeavor to secure spice on Arrakis had not gone as smoothly as the Harkonnens had hoped, especially with constant Fremen attacks sabotaging their forces and Rabban’s pitiful attempt at countermeasures. The current state of their operation and the number of soldiers they were losing daily called for acquiring a new tactical advantage. As much as they hated to admit it, they would have been foolish not to seek one out.

The advantage lay on Youra, the planet of island rainforests and the home of the minor House of Ronen, where an uncountable number of plant and animal species flourished, supplying the population with life-saving natural compounds the renowned scientists had been extracting from nature and developing for centuries. Through this arranged marriage, the wealth of chemical knowledge and access to the raw materials would become House Harkonnen’s. Feyd could begin to taste his ascension to power. This was simply the next step necessary to turn the tides of this conflict on Arrakis, which would inevitably end in him assuming the title of Baron if not Emperor.

With a low rumble, the double doors in front of Feyd open to reveal your father and yourself. Laying eyes on you for the first time, Feyd stops in place, his heavy black boots almost stuck on the ground. When the conversation of an arranged marriage came up with his uncle, he was beyond apathetic, knowing that this would be a political move in which he had no obligation to have any investment. The woman would become his wife only by title. To his astonishment, he is entranced by your beauty, to the point of speechlessness. He almost completely ignores your father’s greeting and speech about the union of your two houses. You are radiant with your skin that glows in the light, unlike that of the Harkonnen women he is used to seeing. You look into his eyes, and he feels almost locked in, the rest of the world fading until all he sees is you.

“Welcome to our home, na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen,” you say to him, not breaking eye contact from underneath your headdress. Your striking eyes bore deep into his soul. It’s almost as if they’re calling to him. What’s most interesting to Feyd is that they don’t seem to contain a hint of fear or apprehension. He is used to making those around him crumple under the weight of their own terror with his mere presence so he can exploit those emotions and manipulate them as his own personal playthings. In defiance of his reputation, you seem undeterred by him staring straight at you. As your eyes glimmer in the lamplight, he feels his breath almost catch as they taunt him, draw him. Snapping himself out of the trance, a smirk forms on his lips, remembering how his uncle taught him to behave. He forces himself to relish the thought of toying with your apparent resolve.

As he looks down, he eyes your lavish, floor-length regalia. The same deep brown and teal that your father and the soldiers wear decorates the patterns on your cloak. He notices lines of gold thread woven into your hair, an appropriate show of the natural resources of your planet.

Strange, he thinks. The cloak is rather large and heavy. Despite matching the designs of the other Youran garb, it seems out of place to be a traditional outfit for the aristocracy of a rainforest civilization where the warm and humid conditions should prove inhospitable for cloaks of this nature.

The delicate, meek flower he was expecting to relish picking apart with ease you are not. He’s figured out you're a woman with something you’re intent on hiding from him. You’ve put on this front either bravely or stupidly, and Feyd-Rautha will peel back every layer one calculated move at a time until you are finally entirely his.

He steps forward and reaches down to take your hand in his. “My betrothed…” he whispers to you, his voice low and gravelly. “We finally meet, Little One. I must say you look exquisite. I expected nothing less.” He brings your fingers up to his lips and brushes his lips across them before pressing firm a kiss on the back of your hand His uncle seems most disgusted by Feyd’s tenderness, but Feyd keeps his gaze on you through hooded eyes, knowing that the first move in any game is imperative to the success of his endeavor. He sees yours flicker for a moment as your body tenses listening to his praise. He’s got you right where he wants you.

–

Dinner is filled with monotonous diplomacy, tiresome pleasantries, and planning of the wedding to take place on Giedi Prime, but Feyd hasn’t let his attention break from you. It’s as if the kiss he planted on your hand was the catalyst for the first crack in the wall you’ve put up, and now he’s waiting for the perfect moment to make his next move.

All of dinner he’s watched as you attentively listened to his uncle and your father exchange words and eat your dinner. He hasn’t failed to notice how your eyes dart over to look at him through your lashes. With every gesture you make and every word you say, he feels unequivocally enraptured. As much as he’s tried to suppress his emotions and stay faithful to his uncle’s teachings, grounded in violence and viciousness, his mind starts to wander.

He wonders what must it be like to have your touch flutter across his chest when he watches you delicately grasp your water goblet. When you fold your lips around your cup to drink, he imagines what they must feel like on his skin if you were to drag them down his neck tantalizingly slow. What if you were close enough to him to have your breath fan out across his skin as your lips caressed his? What must it be like to hold your softness in his hands? The very idea makes his breath hitch.

Of the many thoughts he has as he watches you, many of them becoming increasingly lewd as dinner continues, one remains in his head: if he is this captured by just your face and gaze, basking in the light of what you’re concealing under your cloak, must be heaven adjacent.

His desire to use you and leverage your own will against you is being chipped away little by little. Feyd’s hardened persona that his uncle helped construct is withering with every second he spends in your presence. The notion is nearly frightening to Feyd, but with every single glance and gesture, his heart, which may have turned to stone long ago, is beginning to accept it.

Feyd rips his attention away from you as your father stands to thank the Harkonnens once again for coming. “I shall have my servants show you where you shall be staying,” your father announces as he rises from his seat. “I have arranged for our head researchers to show you what progress we have had in our synthetic undertakings as of late. I guarantee you will be very interested in what they have to offer.”

As you stand, he notices how your hands pull together the front seam of your cloak, preventing it from opening. Curious.

You bid him goodnight and turn away to head to your quarters as a Youran servant beckons him to the guest wing. That night, Feyd cannot rest as he lays awake in bed in the opulent guest suite, images of you running through his head, and he almost smiles thinking about when you say his name so sweetly.

“Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen.”

–

The next day, Feyd sees little of you. In the morning, he makes his way to your quarters only to be informed by a servant at your door that you have already departed for the day. When he asks where you have gone, the servant provides a murky response about your duties as Lady of the House and wedding preparations, which he as her betrothed would “surely understand.” Just as he decides he will find you himself, he is seized by his uncle as to meet the Youran ministers of culture, science, and development to learn about their acquisition.

Feyd cannot deny that your homeworld is impressive. It’s steeped in centuries of exploration and inquiry with unmatched record-keeping of not only science but tradition, too. The ceilings are vaulted and adorned with gold. The walls of the citadel are covered in elaborate murals painted on with vibrant colors or carved into the surfaces. Some depict traditional folktales, gods, and ceremonies while those opposite them describe the evolutionary lines of species, a true testament to Youra’s modernity and dedication to preserving your peoples’ history in living memory. If only he knew which mural decorates the wall concealing you.

As the picture of your world’s history becomes clearer, the air of mystery surrounding you only grows. Not once has he heard talk of you after his interaction with that servant, but throughout the day he has sensed hushed whispers that are almost certainly about him instead. As he passes soldiers, some of them almost seem to leer at his presence.

A few times, he thinks he can almost see the hem of your cape disappear around corners, but when he goes to investigate, there is nobody there. The anger he expected to have inside him due to your avoidance is nowhere to be seen, and only a burning intrigue remains.

“What a little enigma my wife is,” he thinks to himself when he enters the banquet hall for dinner as the last ray of sunlight fades from the windows as the sun dips below the horizon.

Almost on cue, the doors to the hall open again and to his gratification, it is you. He stands up from his seat and walks over to you. He cannot deny his own inclination when you smile at him softly, putting him at ease.

“Good evening, Na-Baron,” you greet as he stops in front of you. Your dulcet tones go straight to his heart, causing it to skip a beat. “I hope I’ve not kept you waiting long.”

“Not at all.” He takes your hands in his once again, running his thumb along the back of them and savoring the feeling of your soft skin. This time when his heart swells, he lets it happen, surrendering himself to your charm. “I would wait an eternity for you,” he says, realizing you enjoy it when he romances you.

“You don’t strike me as a man who likes to be kept waiting,” you reply, looking up into his eyes. “I am surprised you are not frustrated with me.”

“I make exceptions,” he replies, noticing how your lips curl into a small smile. “… for when it truly matters. Since you’ve been absent all day, tell me, Little One, what have you been doing while you were hiding from me all day?”

You let out a gentle exhale. “I assumed you might be curious about that,” you say to him, as you clasp his hands in yours, beginning to tug him backwards to the doors. “Would you join me outside before we eat, Na-Baron? I have something I want to show you that I’ve been working on in preparation for our marriage.”

Allowing you to lead him, he follows you as you pull him through the halls of the fortress. He senses the answers to the questions he’s been asking himself are within his grasp. You both head outdoors and descend a grand staircase toward a courtyard nestled in the center of the fortress that overlooks the ocean that is now a murky midnight blue.

The nighttime lanterns light the way once again, and you both continue into the courtyard which is unlike anything he’s ever seen before. The ground seems to be a single sheet of rust colored stone that is marbled with shards shimmery metals. The slab has massive circles cut into it spaced in a perfect grid. Inside the circle is a golden pool of luminescent water. Tall, half moon shaped walls cradle each pool with glyphs and carvings etched into them.

“What is this place?” he asks you, basking in the light emanating from all of the pools that surround the both of you as you continue down the center aisle.

“This is my favorite place in the castle,” you explain. “It’s where we keep one of every species our researchers are currently studying. The rock wall above the pools describes each evolutionary line and the discoveries about it we’ve made. There’s one I want to show you if you would allow me.”

He nods as you bring him to a pool whose accompanying slab remains blank. Looking down into the water, he spots a single indigo fish with long, delicate fins that trail behind it in the water. He watches as it circles the pool. It slows and shudders momentarily. A single incandescent scale breaks off and floats to the bottom of the pool. You kneel to gather the scale from the bottom, holding it so that he can see how the light flickers off its surface.

“Does it intrigue you?” he hears you ask, and he nods in return as something he thought he lost long ago begins to emerge inside of him: his sense of wonder.

“I have never seen such a creature. Would you tell me about it?”

“It would be my pleasure,” you grin. “This fish was discovered on an archipelago on the other side of the planet. I’ve been studying this fish with our most expert researchers. The pools it lives in almost disappear during the dry season, but we’ve found that they survive to the wet season because of their scales somehow. My father doesn’t know any of this. He still thinks we know nothing of this creature.”

“It’s marvelous,” he whispers to you, eyeing the small bubbles floating to the top of the water from the fish’s gills.

“I wanted to show you this fish because this is at the heart of our culture on Youra. Our people are on a constant mission to learn and discover, so we can help and care for those we hold dearest. With our marriage, the House of Harkonnen will be a part of that endeavor. I’m showing you this fish because when the fish shed their scales at the beginning of the wet season, they contain a high concentration of a novel compound that allows living things to retain water.”

He sees you fidget with your own hands as you explain. You’re nervous, he realizes.

“We have been able to extract it from the scales they drop,” you say with a slight waiver in your voice. Here you are bearing your hard work and dedication, your soul to him. Your vulnerability is evident. Before you were so confident with your gaze and now your eyes never stay on him for more than a fraction of a moment. If you were anyone else, he would have taken full advantage the opportunity to leverage your weakness, but he cannot bring himself to do so. “This knowledge is my gift to you na-Baron. I have been aware of your endeavors on Arrakis. I realize you may not be as invested in this arrangement as we are, but I wanted to give you this to mark the beginning of what is to come… I don’t expect you to do anything in return. Only wanted to communicate my intentions.”

His heart quivers as his mind darts back to the countless times his uncle has “gifted” things to him as rewards for doing his bidding. The concubines, armor, and weapons all fall to the wayside; now they’re all tainted in Feyd's mind by his uncle's conniving ways. They were never gifts in earnest, always being transactional or part of another of his uncle’s Machiavellian schemes. Never in his life had he been given something so thoughtful, something intended to truly protect him. The previous notions he had before of possessing you are bitter on his tongue. Now, he could never and the shame he feels for maybe the first time in years begins to burn into his psyche.

“Na-Baron,” you plead, bringing him out of his own thoughts. “Say something, please.”

“Thank you,” he finally says, taking your hands in his and giving them a squeeze. “I am grateful for your generosity, my little flower.”

Your eyes well up with tears and you let out a relieved sigh before your emotions bubble out of you. “You cannot fathom how happy I am to hear you say those words,” you say, bringing your hands to his again. “I was so worried about showing you this!”

Right when he opens his mouth to respond, his instincts as a warrior kick in as he hears the soft whistle of something flying through the air towards the both of you. In a flash, he’s grabbed you by your shoulder to force you to your knees as you let out a bewildered yelp. The sound lights his veins on fire and fills him with rage.

Against the blank stone slab of the fish’s pool he sees it: a green splatter of a sinister substance that drips down the stone in long tendrils. Below, the shattered remains of a poisoned dart sinking into the water. You’ve seen it, too. He swivels himself around in the direction the arrow came from. A hooded figure is emerging from behind another one of the stone walls, a serrated dagger in hand, poised to strike you down. Feyd reprimands himself for leaving his weapons behind in his room in the name of diplomacy, but he’s prepared to fight empty handed to protect you and punish your assailant.

Before he realizes, you’ve shed your cloak, allowing it to drop to the floor behind you and Feyd can finally see what you’ve been hiding. You’re wearing a sage green dress with a bodice plated in iron that’s been secured to in place with intricate leather straps and golden loops that wrap deliciously around your figure. The symmetric slits in your dress that extend almost to your hips reveal your garters where two silver daggers that curve into formidable hooks are secured to your outer thighs.

As soon as he realizes you’re armed, you’ve already grasped the leather wrapped handles of your weapons and drawn them from your thighs with a flourish, launching yourself at your attacker. The ground reverberates with your power, and your blades ring out as they clash with your opponent’s. The man grunts upon impact and with a vigorous push, you knock his weapon upwards and away from you as you swipe at his face with the other hand. When he stumbles backwards, his face covering is swept to the side.

“Ozran!” you growl as the man regains his composure. “What is the meaning of this? Traitor!”

“I could say the same for you, Lady Ronen, revealing our secrets to that Harkonnen!” Ozran snarls at you, his eyes wild as he begins swiping sloppily at your head, which you dodge with ease. Feyd knows the man is getting desperate. Ozran is quickly realizing running away would have been the best option after his poisoned arrow missed.

Ozran attempts to shake off his regret by hurling himself at you, trying to recover the situation now that he’s committed to one-on-one combat with you. “I will not stand by and have the rewards of our peoples’ work reaped by them. Without a daughter to marry off, our intelligence will remain ours, and I will protect it to the end, even if that means killing you.”

Feyd hears you tisk at his pitiful attempt at your life as your heel makes contact with his nose. Blood gushes from his nostrils and drips down his chin in thick droplets. He staggers back and loses his footing as you drive your blades into him, your footsteps smearing his blood on the floor as you move. Ozran’s hope drains from his eyes, and he coughs as you pull your knives back, his blood spilling onto the stone floor from the gaping hole in his body. He drops his weapon and it clatters on the ground beside him.

“Too bad you couldn’t get close enough to actually do any damage,” you say sweetly to him as he wheezes. “You were never a man worthy of battle. I’m surprised you even worked up the courage to merely attempt to kill me.”

“D-don’t worry, dear Lady,” he sneers as his knees hit the floor. “There are more of us who don’t appreciate our leaders betraying our ideals. They will avenge me, and you will join me in death.” With that, his body crumples in the pool of his own blood. Drawing his last breath, Feyd sees Ozran’s consciousness fade. From the shadows and behind the other stone walls, he senses more figures lurking.

“Na-Baron!” you call, as you throw Feyd your second knife, which he catches with a flick of his wrist as you pick up Ozran’s weapon. Your dagger is robust and extraordinarily crafted, truly a weapon worthy of your status Feyd thinks. With that, he joins you in battle when Ozran’s allies pounce, eager to avenge their fallen comrade. One by one, he cuts the treasonous soldiers down with you by his side, slashing their throats, stabbing them in their backs, hearing their bones break, and tendons tear. It’s exhilarating, fighting not just for you, but with you in perfect synchronization.

When the last one falls, their mangled bodies are piled around you. He looks at you with complete admiration in his eyes. Without a second thought, he pulls you close with desperation. Cradling your face in his free hand, he kisses you roughly and swipes his tongue across your bottom lip, tasting the familiar tang of iron. As you kiss him back with a fervor that makes his senses sing, he uses his other arm to pull you close, if he’s worried that you will join the souls of the dead around you and leave this world, something he can’t bear to think of now.

Reluctantly, you both break away from the kiss, resting your foreheads against one another. Your breaths are thick and heaving. You look down at his dominant hand, which still holds your second dagger.

“Are you going to kill me now, Na-Baron?” you ask as you look up at him, and he instinctively throws the knife away, letting it clatter on the floor. He shakes his head.

“I never anticipated my betrothed to have such prowess in battle,” he whispers lowly, returning his hand to your body. He drags his fingers across the places where the straps of your dress make indentations in your skin, making you shiver at his touch. His grip on your waist tightens when he palms your supple skin. You hum a sigh of satisfaction that is almost music to Feyd’s ears, and he could listen to it all day. “Watching you cut down each of them… What a lovely surprise it was… You are truly an unexpected paragon, my dear.”

“Unexpected…” you chuckle, blushing at his flattery. “May I ask another question of you?”

“Of course,” he replies, peering down at you with an ardent stare.

“Before coming here, were you aware there are many dangerous things in the rainforest, Na-Baron?” He nods. “Then why would you assume I am not one of them?”

“Clever girl,” he grins, pressing another kiss on your forehead.

“From now on, my blades will fight for you, Feyd-Rautha.”

“And mine for you, my love,” he replies as he dips his lips back down to yours. What a fool he was before, anticipating so little from his future wife. Now he knows better. He realizes who you really are, and he doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough.

Thank you for reading!

Knives Dance Part II OUT NOW!

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#dune 2 #dune part two #dune part 2 #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha #feyd x reader #feyd x you #x reader #austin butler

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sinkovia · 3 months

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Yes, Lieutenant: III

Simon Riley x Fem!Reader

Violence, angst, blood.

Yes, Lieutenant Masterlist

You sat alone in your dimly lit room, the harsh words Ghost said echoing through your mind like a relentless chant.

You're not my type.

You're always following me around like a lost puppy, always watching my every move, and it's annoying as hell.

His words crushed your heart.

Tears streamed down your cheeks, soaking into your pillow as you sobbed in silence. It felt like the walls were closing in on you, the weight of rejection pressing down with an unbearable force.

He was the one to make a move on you first. Yeah, you harbored feelings for him deep down, but you always told yourself you would never act upon them because it was unprofessional, and you were okay admiring him from afar.

How could he have been so cruel? You had let your feelings show, and it had only resulted in heartache.

As Ghost stood at your door, he couldn't help but notice the telltale signs of your sadness. Your eyes were puffy and red, your cheeks stained with tears that you had fought so hard to hide. It crushed his heart, seeing the pain he had caused you etched across your face.

Deep down, he felt a crushing weight of guilt. He knew he had hurt you, and it tore at his conscience. But he also knew he needed to push you away, to keep up the facade of a calm and cold demeanor. His own internal struggle was hidden behind a mask of detachment, a facade he had become a master at maintaining.

It was a battle within him, torn between his feelings for you and his desire to protect you from himself. The guilt coursed through his veins like poison, but he couldn't let it show.

"Price wants everyone in the debriefing room," he said, his voice carrying an undertone of regret.

You fail to catch it.

"Is that all you have to say?" You couldn't hide the bitterness in your voice.

Ghost hesitated for a moment, his gaze dropping to the floor before he quietly replied, "Yes." He turned away, leaving you to grapple with the pain he had caused, all the while carrying the heavy burden of his own remorse.

Leaving you alone with your shattered heart, the room once again enveloped in the heavy silence of your unspoken pain.

Price had debriefed us on a mission that Laswell was sending us on. It would take place in a couple of hours; we were going to breach a safe house not far from here. Laswell had received an intelligence report that the enemy was supposedly using the building to transport cargo underground.

You quickly changed into your tactical gear before heading down to the storage locker. As you walked in, you bumped into Ghost as he was walking out.

He didn't say a word, only shooting you a cold glare before walking away.

The moon hung low in the night sky, casting a silvery glow over the desolate street where the safehouse stood. The building, a nondescript two-story structure, was tucked away in a dimly lit alley.

Your team moved with calculated precision. The air was frigid, each exhale visible as a ghostly vapor. The mission had a sense of urgency, a feeling that time was of the essence. On the flight over, the team had received intel that a high-ranking operative was holed up in the safe house, and extracting valuable information from him was paramount.

The plan was simple, in theory. Breach the perimeter, gain entry without alerting the guards, and capture the operative before he had a chance to react. But in the world of covert operations, simple plans often took unforeseen turns.

As you approached the entrance, your heart pounded in your chest. The adrenaline coursing through your veins was a constant reminder of the danger that lay ahead. The silence of the night seemed to amplify every breath and rustle, heightening the tension.

With a subtle hand signal, Ghost gave the go-ahead. You moved like shadows, silently closing in on the safe house. The breach was executed flawlessly, the door swinging open with a well-timed kick, and the element of surprise on your side.

Inside, the safehouse was dimly lit, the air heavy with anticipation. As you cleared room after room, you could hear faint murmurs and hurried footsteps from the operatives inside. The tension escalated with each passing moment.

The sound of muffled voices ahead signaled that you were closing in on your target. As you pushed forward, you couldn't help but feel the weight of dread pressing down on you.

As you slowly opened the door, silently walking through, you pointed your suppressed pistol at the man standing next to your target. But in the rush of the moment, you failed to realize that there was another man waiting behind the door.

A strong hand clamped over your mouth, muffling your startled gasp. With a swift, calculated move, he managed to pin you down onto the floor. Your heart sank as he took both of your hands and zip tied them. You attempted to scream out, but he quickly taped your mouth shut, your cries stifled.

The target slowly walked over, laughing.

"What do we have here?" he sneered as he kneeled down next to you, harshly grabbing your face and scanning your features.

"You have such a pretty face." His words dripped with malice as he raised his fist and brought it down, striking you hard across the face. The force of the blow sent shockwaves of pain radiating through your body. Your vision blurred, and the room seemed to tilt dangerously. You attempted to scream for help, but all that escaped your lips were muffled groans.

Panic surged through your veins as the unbearable pain consumed you. You squeezed your eyes shut, struggling and flailing in desperation, attempting to get up from the floor. Adrenaline surged through your veins, but it was no match for the overwhelming force of your assailants.

They would just kick you down again...

And again...

And again.

Pain flared in your ribs and jaw, making it difficult to breathe or defend yourself.

Panic set in as oxygen became a rare commodity, and your vision darkened at the edges.

Desperation fueled your adrenaline. With one last surge of strength, you managed to land a solid strike with your foot, pushing back one of the men. But it was too little, too late. The damage had been done, and your body, battered and overwhelmed, finally gave in.

As consciousness slipped away, you felt a sense of helplessness, a silent plea for someone to intervene and save you from the relentless onslaught.

You felt the blood seeping from your nose...

You felt your blood seeping everywhere.

They continued to beat you as your eyes began to flutter close. Your consciousness slipping further and further away. Suddenly the pain had stopped all at once and you heard a voice.

They kept trying to tell you something, but your ears were ringing.

A sense of weightlessness overcame you. It was as though you were floating in a vast, featureless void. Unseen forces tugged at your consciousness, pulling you deeper into the abyss.

And then, like a beacon in the night, a presence emerged from the shadows. Strong arms enveloped you, cradling you with unwavering support. The warmth of another human being pressed against you, grounding you in the midst of your descent into the abyss.

You could sense the urgency in the touch, the desperation of the one who held you. Faint words and pleas reached your ears, but they were like distant whispers, struggling to penetrate the thick fog that enveloped your senses. Your vision remained shrouded in darkness, your ears ringing.

He gently cradled you, his heart pounding as he tried tried to wake you up. Your pulse was weak. Desperate words spilled from his lips, as he was running to the med evac.

You remained unresponsive, caught in a world between consciousness and oblivion.

"Y/n it's me please look at me" As Ghost gently, but firmly, holds you in his arms, he cups your face in his hands trying to get you to open your eyes. Your body was limp in his arms.

"Y/n open your eyes it's Simon, Please just look at me. Please just open your eyes." Despite his pleas, you were still unresponsive.

"Fuck."

In a few minutes you had landed being put on a stretcher as you were rushed into surgery.

Five hours of stitching you back together.

The night had turned into a battleground of emotions for Ghost, and as they transferred you into a room, Ghost dragged a chair next to your bed, carefully holding your hand in his. The only signs of life were the rhythmic beeping of machines and the steady rise and fall of your chest as you lay in a deep coma.

He scanned over your face, you had stitches going across your eyebrow into your hairline, you had stitches on your cheek and lip. Your shoulder had been dislocated and you were bleeding internally.

You were still unconscious , the doctor had told Ghost it might take awhile for you to wake up but that he should talk to you, to help your consciousness find its way back to your body.

With each passing second, he spoke to you. Talking about the missions you had went on, the nights spent in the rec room, the time Soap had rammed his head into a glass display at a bakery. Any fond memories that he could think of.

His voice, soft and laden with emotion, filled the room like a whispered secret, the words falling on your unconscious ears. His hand rested gently atop yours, a warm anchor in the cold, sterile room.

"Remember that mission in Prague?" Ghost began, his voice tinged with nostalgia. "It was pouring rain, and you slipped on that wet cobblestone, but you didn't let it slow you down. You just flashed that stubborn grin of yours and kept moving."

A brief pause followed, as if he were savoring the memory. "And those late nights in the rec room, when you'd talk about anything and everything until the sun came up. Those were some of the best moments I had with you. Just listening you talk about all the things you loved."

He shifted in his chair, his eyes never leaving your form. "I need you to wake up, Y/n," his voice trembling with vulnerability.

"I need you to hear me out. I said some awful things, things I regret more than anything. I... I didn't want to ruin you, to drag you into the darkness that clings to me like a shadow."

The weight of his confession hung heavily in the air. "But when I realized you felt the same way about me, I couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope, a ray of light in all this darkness. I want you to know that I love you… I have for a long time, more than I can ever put into words. And that's why I pushed you away, to protect you from me."

The room was filled with the unspoken words that lingered between you, the raw emotions that had finally found their voice. Ghost's gaze never wavered, his grip on your hand never loosened, as if he hoped his love and remorse could transcend the silent chasm that separated you.

He was praying that you would hear him, he prayed to a god he no longer believed in, prayed that you would open your eyes and be okay.

You heard every word. If you could smile you would.

Your heart swelled with warmth at his confession, an overwhelming desire to hold him close, to reassure him that you weren't afraid of the darkness he spoke of, that you were willing to run into it together.

As his words hung in the air, your inner voice echoed your silent response. You fought with all your might to wake up, to bring your consciousness back to your body, to reach out and tell Ghost that you were there, you wanted to tell him that you were willing to stand beside him, to face whatever darkness the world had to offer together.

But you couldn't speak or move, you could only feel. You felt the touch of his hand on yours. You felt the sincerity in his voice, the love that had remained hidden for too long.

With every word, you fought to regain control, to claw your way back from the abyss. Ghost's confession had breathed life into your soul, and you were determined to answer in kind.

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sunkissedchld · 6 months

Text

𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐀 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐃

𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒏𝒆𝒙𝒕 𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒏𝒆𝒓 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒔 𝒂𝒅𝒅𝒊𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖

the piles go from left to right. therefore, pile one is the photo with the love seat, pile two is the heart shaped-potions room without an entrance, and so on and so forth.

take your time to use your intuition to choose the pile that will best resonate with you. lastly, please don’t be afraid to say if the message resonated or not. it helps me in determining if my interpretations are correct or not, and i appreciate any sort of feedback - even if it’s “bad”.

good luck to you, reader 💘

photos courtesy of @poisonnightmares

WARNING: pile iii has a little 18+ mention, but it's nothing graphic nor is it explained in detail

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈

Shufflemancy:

"Dive Into You" by NCT Dream

"Last Night" by Dani Leigh

"TMT" by Stray Kids

Cards:

The Bachelor, The Rose Ceremony, Nine of Rings (Influencer), The Cocktail Party, Knight of Roses (Frontrunner)

Reading:

Your next romantic partner may like how structured and stable you are as a person. You could be a good leader or have heavy masculine energy; you might even embody the traits of "The Emperor" as a tarot card. They may feel as if you're good at making decisions and as if they can trust you with anything. You may have a way of gaining your next romantic partner's attention very easily - you may have Venusian qualities or placements in your chart. Your own beauty may cause your next romantic partner to feel very stunned; you might even leave them speechless often or make them feel as if they need to "step up their game" when being with you.

I also get the feeling your outlook on love or how you operate when you're in love gives your next romantic partner hope in terms of romance. They may have been apprehensive when approaching relationships beforehand, but being with you makes them think that love can exist or that healthy relationships aren't too far-fetched to ask for. You may be someone who is very into love - maybe you're a daydreamer in that sense or a hopeless romantic, and instead of only dreaming of the type of love you want - you make it happen. This might be something that makes your partner addicted to you because it could feel like an everlasting honeymoon phase or because it makes them open their heart in a way they're not used to.

In short, your next romantic partner may be addicted to you because of the authenticity and passion with which you approach love; you may spark in them an appreciation for romance and healthy relationship expectations.

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐈

Shufflemancy:

"Let Me Love You" by Mario

"I'm Ready" by Nakala

"Twinkle" by Girls' Generation

Cards:

Queen of Flutes (The Caregiver) [Rx], Seven of Mirrors (For the Wrong Reasons) [Rx], Six of Flutes (Butterflies), Ace of Flutes (First Kiss) [Rx], Four of Mirrors (Reassuring Rose)

Reading:

Those who chose this pile may be a little closed off when it comes to romance and love. You might be the type of person who plays hard to get and "doesn't really want to get into relationships", or you feel very jaded because of past relationships. I'm kind of getting the energy of you being a person in distress when it comes to romance. Your next romantic partner will actually like this energy about you! They'll like "the chase" so to speak. They're the type of person that likes engaging with people who are hurt because they like nurturing and healing others. They will find your wounded energy addicting because it makes it easy for them to be the nurturing person they are.

Obviously being aware, some people do like seeking out vulnerable individuals in order to have dominance over them and to create unsafe and unhealthy situations, but that won't be the case for most of you who choose this pile. This person does not have bad intentions; fulfilling this caregiver/healer role is something they just enjoy doing. Your next romantic partner will like being able to change your point of view and show you that a more innocent, maybe even fairytale-like view of love does exist. They're not trying to show you what it's like being in a relationship for the first time, but they are trying to show you what love and relationships can be like going forward - with or without them. They are all about easing your worries.

Overall, your next romantic partner will find your reluctance to love addicting. They will like the idea of having to work hard to make you open up your heart in order to feel more relief when it comes to dating. They find needing to work for your validation and happiness addicting.

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐈𝐈

Shufflemancy:

"Burn" by Andra Day

"You Can't Win" by Michael Jackson

"Too Loud" by G-Eazy (feat. Nef the Pharaoh)

Cards:

Knight of Roses (The Frontrunner), Two of Mirrors (Two on One) [Rx], The Bachelor, The Villain, Three of Mirrors (Red Flags), Eight of Mirrors (In Your Head)

Reading:

Some of the people who chose this pile might also be attracted to pile one; I feel like it'll be very few of you though. This pile feels like the first one in a different font and context. There's a lot of Mirrors energy, so there's a focus on communication and your way of thinking. Your next romantic partner may be addicted to you because you're a very passionate, go-getter who knows when to get confrontational. You could be someone who is a little detached from their emotions, or who knows how to use them to your advantage. You know how to get whatever it is you want - including your next romantic partner.

I'm kind of getting "bad bitch" energy. Your energy and way of living may naturally draw people to you, and your next partner may be someone who falls under your spell. The addicting part of you is very heavy in this reading - more so than the other piles. Your next romantic partner might even find how mean you are to them addicting. This could be in an 18+ way in that they like degradation or having you be dominant; it could also be this person likes how you're able to be mean to others. Going back to what was said before, you may be the type of person who knows when conflict is needed, and you could have no problem arguing with or even fighting people who you deem "deserve it". They really like your assertiveness!

For the most part, your next romantic partner will like your mean and/or abrasive personality. They'll like the way you stand up for yourself, and they could really enjoy it when you show off your dominance.

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐕

Shufflemancy:

"Are you That Somebody" by Aaliyah

"Waiting" by Woodz

"Good Girls" by 5 Seconds of Summer

Cards:

King of Roses (The Executive Producer) [Rx], Eight of Rings (Camera Guy), The Moon, Five of Flutes (I Fucked Up) [Rx]

Reading:

Your next romantic partner finds your cautionary attitude addicting. I'm intuitively reminded of the song, "Wait For It" from Hamilton the Musical. You may be the type of person who comes off a little mysterious; you could be the type of person who is always waiting for "the perfect timing" or find yourself holding back because you want to be sure you're doing everything right. You may like playing it safe and following the expectations that others place on you. I'm also reminded of "Good Girls" by Five Seconds of Summer, although this reading isn't gendered in any way! They like that you are predictable and reliable in a sense.

They may also like that you're always paying attention to your surroundings and people around you. You could be an empath or someone who is just great at picking up on other people's emotions and feelings, whether they show it blatantly or not; you could be very in tune with your intuition. They also adore how you're always able to move on from things and never hold grudges against others or towards yourself. I get the sense your next romantic partner might feel like people treat you like a doormat or a pushover, and they like your willingness to (almost) never get upset about that, but it also kind of irritates them. They could like how they feel they almost need to step up for you in a way. It could be that your next partner is very assertive and quick when doing things in their life, but you're the total opposite in that you can be a little passive and slow about what you do in your life; they like this opposite dynamic!

In general, your next romantic partner will like the "opposites attract" type of dynamic you two will have. They like that you're a little more apprehensive about the choices you make, and they adore your willingness to assume the best of people.

#tarot #oracle #pick a card #PAC #tarotblr #sunkissedchld

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sunkissedchldrecon · 9 months

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𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐀 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐃

the piles go from left to right. therefore, pile one is the photo with the love seat, pile two is the heart shaped-potions room without an entrance, and so on and so forth.

WARNING: pile iii has a little 18+ mention, but it's nothing graphic nor is it explained in detail

good luck to you, reader 💘

photos courtesy of @poisonnightmares

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈

Shufflemancy:

"Dive Into You" by NCT Dream

"Last Night" by Dani Leigh

"TMT" by Stray Kids

Cards:

The Bachelor, The Rose Ceremony, Nine of Rings (Influencer), The Cocktail Party, Knight of Roses (Frontrunner)

Reading:

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐈

Shufflemancy:

"Let Me Love You" by Mario

"I'm Ready" by Nakala

"Twinkle" by Girls' Generation

Cards:

Queen of Flutes (The Caregiver) [Rx], Seven of Mirrors (For the Wrong Reasons) [Rx], Six of Flutes (Butterflies), Ace of Flutes (First Kiss) [Rx], Four of Mirrors (Reassuring Rose)

Reading:

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐈𝐈

Shufflemancy:

"Burn" by Andra Day

"You Can't Win" by Michael Jackson

"Too Loud" by G-Eazy (feat. Nef the Pharaoh)

Cards:

Knight of Roses (The Frontrunner), Two of Mirrors (Two on One) [Rx], The Bachelor, The Villain, Three of Mirrors (Red Flags), Eight of Mirrors (In Your Head)

Reading:

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐕

Shufflemancy:

"Are you That Somebody" by Aaliyah

"Waiting" by Woodz

"Good Girls" by 5 Seconds of Summer

Cards:

King of Roses (The Executive Producer) [Rx], Eight of Rings (Camera Guy), The Moon, Five of Flutes (I Fucked Up) [Rx]

Reading:

#tarot #oracle #pick a card #PAC #Spotify #tarotblr

976 notes · View notes

blurredcolour · 2 months

Text

III. "Trust Me, He's In Good Hands."

"Trust" Series Masterlist

John "Bucky" Egan x WAC!Female Reader

As the calendar flips to September, so arrives Autumn, the season of change. And change will always come, whether it is welcome or not.

Warnings: Language, Grief, Minor Bucky Injury, Mention of Medical Treatments/Devices, Angst, Inevitable Historical and Military Inaccuracies, Mature/Explicit Themes [fingering, handjob, semi-public play] - 18+ ONLY.

Author’s Note: In case you missed it, there was a head cannon produced as a semi-interlude for just how Bucky 'took care of himself' after their moment on the bench. This is a work of fiction based off the portrayal by the actors in the Apple TV+ series. I hold nothing but respect for the real life individuals referenced within.

Word Count: 6486

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

“Think you took a wrong turn back there, Bucky…” You raised an eyebrow, glancing over your shoulder as he continued driving further and further away from your quarters, navigating the jeep, instead, towards the control tower.

After nearly a week of chauffeuring you and your rapidly healing leg around Thorpe Abbotts, you were more than confident that he knew his way from your quarters to the mess to the control tower and back. This was most certainly a detour from the normal route.

When your comment was met with silence, you turned to look at him curiously, only to see the profile of his mischievous grin as he worked a fresh stick of gum between his molars, a pair of aviator sunglasses concealing his eyes even in the rapidly darkening twilight.

A plethora of fresh cuts and abrasions adorned his face from that day’s mission to Stuttgart – nearly 1,300 miles round trip. Flying in the second group of the day, the Luftwaffe and ground forces had been more than ready for them. Resistance had been heavy, though their drop was still considered a success, the first group’s had been a disaster. Bucky had been putting on his usual good humor since his return to the Operations Room, though his kisses in the custodial closet had been a little more frenetic than usual. His hold on you a little tighter than after previous missions.

For your part, you had wound yourself around him as tightly as a vine of ivy, the loss of your brother still terribly fresh and barely scabbed over. A scab that you had to fight the urge to pick at in the darkest hours of the night while your hut mates slept the sleep of the ungrieved. It was easier to set your hurts aside in the daylight, or in Bucky’s presence, as the man himself might as well have been the sun personified. Yet there was something changed about him today.

“Bucky?” You prompted softly as he reached the control tower and hung a right to begin driving out along the runway.

“Wanna show you the stars, doll.” He murmured quietly, sliding his sunglasses to the top of his head, his cap tossed carelessly on the seat between you, as darkness finally conquered the sky.

“Alright.” You whispered, setting your hand on his knee slowly while he drove to the very end of the asphalt before veering off into the tall vegetation that brushed against the sides of the vehicle.

As he cut the engine, the silence of the field settled in around the pair of you, so far removed from the crews diligently working on planes parked on their hardstands – there was another mission tomorrow, they would do their very best to get as many as possible back into service by dawn. But this far out, it felt like it you were perhaps the only two people in the entire world just then. Tilting your head back to look up at the sky, you pulled your cap from your head to watch the stars begin to wink into light against the deep blue velvet night, a smile tugging at your lips.

“They are beautiful.” You breathed reverently, rolling your head to the side to look at him fondly.

“Yeah.” He murmured in agreement, though your heart clenched as you found his eyes focused squarely on you rather than the constellations above.

His hand settled over yours where it still rested on his leg, fingers threading between yours, squeezing tightly, and you leaned in with the intention of pressing your lips to his. Bucky met you halfway, tilting his head to the left to slot his lips against yours firmly. The taste of spearmint flooded your mouth and your tongue darted forward the pilfer the still-supple piece of gum from its hiding place against his cheek, tucking it against your own as his body shook with laughter. Your responding grin made it difficult for either of you to continue the kiss and so Bucky dropped his mouth to your neck, fingers abandoning yours to begin tugging at your necktie and the buttons of your collar to reveal more of your skin to his greedy lips.

“Bucky…” You sighed, sliding your liberated hands into his hair, wantonly holding him to your throat.

Your eyes fell shut as you shivered eagerly, each exhale shaking as it left your mouth in response to the damp, open-mouthed kisses he painted across your skin. The brush of his moustache provided a wicked contrast in sensations. He hummed approvingly against you, arms snaking around your hips as he shuffled the pair of you further onto the passenger’s side of the bench seat, farther away from the interference of the steering wheel.

Bucky’s fingers tugged at the buttons on your uniform jacket, parting the offending fabric so his broad hand could slide beneath to cup one of your breasts, kneading at the tender flesh over the thinner fabric of your shirt. Arching with a needy whimper, you pulled gently on his dark locks until he tipped his head back, lips kiss-stung as he looked up at you, eyes barely focused. Lunging forward, you kissed him thoroughly as he continued his sweet torment, making your hips undulate against the seat needily, desperate for any friction you might find.

You mewled in protest when his hand left your chest, pressing your face against his cheek as he tutted teasingly.

“Easy doll, I won’t leave you hanging.”

His hand slid to your left knee, fingers cupping the back of it as he gently guided your leg to hook over his right, spreading your legs open to the rush of cool night air. Instinctively, you rolled your right leg inward to close the gap, but his hand slid between your inner thighs, keeping them apart.

“Wait.” He whispered, stroking his slightly calloused fingers against the soft skin he had found there, knuckles rasping against the opposite thigh. “Let me make you feel good.”

Sinking your teeth into your lower lip, you shuddered slightly before relaxing your right leg, letting your knee fall against the frame of the jeep as you shuffled your hips forward consentingly.

Sweeping ever higher along your inner thigh in slow, smooth circles, you still jumped slightly as Bucky’s palm came to rest over your underwear, breath hitching in your throat to feel the heat of his skin seeping through the thin material.

“Damn, you’re so warm.” His breath fanned across your cheek as he spoke, heel of his palm applying just the right amount of pressure to the place that had you seeing constellations of your own behind your eyelids.

“Bu…cky…” You keened his name, pronunciation disjointed and clumsy as his fingers worked at tracing your folds across the rapidly dampening fabric.

“I know, I know.” He rasped, sounding almost pained as he shifted his hips.

Forcing your eyes open, you recognized the same need in his movements that had, just moments before, laced your own. You swallowed roughly to gather your courage before allowing your hand to drop to his lap. The gasp that escaped you at the sheer pressure of him against his fly was drowned out by his harsh, half-swallowed moan. Pressed temple-to-temple, you inhaled sharply as his eyes flicked to yours, boring into them at close range as you began to work your palm along the shape of him through his trousers, applying what you could only hope was the right amount of friction.

“Goddamn you’re not going to be satisfied unless I cum, are you?” He huffed and tilted his jaw forward to nip at your lower lip.

Your brow furrowed in thought as the verbiage of that sentence did not quite compute, though it very well could have been as a result of his diligent attentions between your thighs.

As if sensing your confusion, Bucky began throwing out alternative words like a thesaurus while he gradually began to ease your underwear to one side. “Finish, climax, release, orgasm…what you did so prettily all over my thigh and what I’m going to make you do again right–”

“Fuck…” You squeaked as his fingers found the bare skin of your folds, hips jerking both towards his touch and away from the intensity of it all at once.

“Here.” He finished his thought, temple pressing against yours once more, fingertips rapidly growing slick with your desire before they delved to find your sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Jesus Christ, Bucky!” You gasped out, bucking sharply and most definitely toward his hand this time.

“You talk to your Captain with that mouth, doll?” He teased with a broad grin, teeth flashing white in the darkness.

“Mmm fuck…” You whimpered, nearly incoherent as he expertly worked your body like he had known it longer than you.

“Spending far too much time around soldiers, doll.” He continued to tease you, making your nostrils flare stubbornly as you summoned the very last of your wits to attack his fly, wanting him to suffer equally under the exquisite torture of pleasure he was inflicting upon you. “Whoa there what a–” His words died on his lips as your persistent, delving hand worked its way into his trousers and then past the waistband of his boxers to wrap around the steely length of him.

A ragged groan cut through the night air before his mouth crashed into yours, a slight clacking of teeth before he recovered his usual finesse. There was a beguiling slickness gathered at the tip but otherwise the skin covering the swollen hardness of him was the softest you had ever felt. However, now that you had seized your prize, you were not entirely certain what to do with it. Bucky’s large left hand wrapped itself around yours, beginning to guide you through a pumping motion up and down the length of him that filled your mouth with his moans and sped the pace of his right hand against you.

Wrenching your lips back from his to gasp for breath, you pressed your forehead against his once more, your exhales becoming his inhales. Tugging the gusset of your underwear further from your body, he made more space for his hand, settling the heel of his palm against the apex of your pleasure as his index finger began to circle your entrance.

“Fuck you’re so wet…” He huffed, dipping the pad of his finger into your slick.

“Mnnph!” You vocalized nonsensically, swiping your thumb across the source of his own slickness, collecting fresh beads of moisture to ease the motion of your fist around him. “You, too.” You panted.

Hot breath cascading down the gaping collar of your shirt was his only response, and being a quick study, you were certain to repeat that motion at the top of each pull, despite how difficult it was becoming to think straight. Particularly as he sank his index finger into your eager body, the feeling foreign yet not unwelcome, especially when he began to thrust said finger at a pace that matched your own hand around him.

A fleeting concern passed through your mind, of what sort of vulgar display the pair of you were currently presenting to the very heavens that you had driven out here under the pretext to admire, but it could not compete for you attention as Bucky added a second finger to your wet heat. Your hips moved in time with his fingers, of their own volition, and you were so focused on driving the pair of you towards your own heaven that you were barely taking in enough oxygen.

“Doll I’m gonna…fuck…I’m gonna cum…” Bucky growled, though there was the distinct edge of a whine to it.

“Yes.” You exhaled enthusiastically as you fully understood the statement this time. “Yes, Bucky go on I want you to, please.” You babbled, no longer completely in control of your faculties.

His left hand quickly abandoned yours to yank his uniform jacket and shirt higher on his torso as his hips slammed into your fist several times before, with a hoarse shout, a tremendous amount of fluid was released across his lower abdomen, dripping onto your hand. You watched with a slack jaw, very much wishing you could see the intricacies of his pleasure more clearly than the dark of night would allow, but nevertheless mightily pleased to have brought it about.

As his right hand stilled inside your underwear, you mistakenly assumed he was utterly spent, would not have minded at all if that were the case, and began to straighten your uniform.

“Oh, hell no, I’m not finished with you.” His fingers lurched into motion, pace somehow doubled as they scissored and curled inside you.

Left hand, now freed, settled over your right breast as he turned fully to devour the noises his renewed attentions wrung from your trembling body. You could feel your walls beginning to clench around his fingers, your thighs pressing together as the tension within you rose to its crest before shattering in a rush of ecstasy that had you clawing at his uniform jacket as you writhed beneath him.

Pulling back only once you had stopped wailing down his throat, Bucky smirked a little as he licked his lips. “That’s better.” Settling back onto the seat beside you, he carefully pulled his fingers from your still-shaking body to lick them clean, closing his eyes slowly. “Next time, I’m going to eat you alive, doll…”

Slumping against his shoulder all you managed by way of reply was a weak, “Uh huh.”

Bucky pressed a tender kiss to the crown of your head before pulling a utilitarian handkerchief from his pocket, wiping your hand before roughly wiping himself clean. He brusquely restored order to his uniform before very tenderly doing the same with yours.

“Need a few more minutes?”

“Mmm we should get back.” You frowned, leaning in to peck his lips softly. “If my legs still aren’t working, I’ve got the crutches at least.”

A confident grin unfurled across his features as he slid back behind the wheel, arm wrapping around your waist to pull you snug into his side before he began the drive back to your quarters. Absent-mindedly, you retrieved the stolen piece of gum from the corner of your cheek and folded an air bubble into it before cracking it against your teeth, slowly feeling the capacity to control your limbs returning.

Pulling up in front of your hut, he turned to you with a smirk. “You stole my gum.”

You looked to him slowly before shooting him a wink. “Guess you’ll have to steal it back.” You would have kissed him goodnight, given him the chance to do so right then, if not for the crunch of footsteps on the gravel drive behind you. “Goodnight Major Egan.” You said as you straightened quickly, putting a great deal of distance between you as you slid to the other side of the jeep before climbing out.

Fetching your crutches from the back, you were slowly making your way inside when you heard him address the unknown individual.

“Captain Miller.”

“Major Egan, whatever has become of your cap, sir?” Her voice was cold and shrill as usual.

“Got it right here Ma’am.” You heard him reply, though her hum of disapproval, one that was all too familiar to the WACs, did not bode well for the state of it.

“It seems rather worse for wear, sir. Might want to try and remedy that before Colonel Harding gets a look at it. Goodnight.”

Risking a glance back over your shoulder you frowned to see how horribly crumpled the thing had become – surely a victim of your star-gazing trip gone astray. Bucky, for his part, only sent you a broad smile as Captain Miller continued on into the night and you waved to him before ducking inside to face the firing squad of your expectant-faced friends.

The early days of September continued to be busy with crews from the 100th flying the following morning, the 7th, and then receiving a day’s rest. There was no real rest for you on the 8th, however, as the field order for Operation Starkey, set for the 9th, arrived late in the day, sending the Operations Room into a frenzy. Bucky had appeared at the usual time to drive you to the mess for dinner and all you could spare was an apologetic look before he was snagged by Colonel Harding. Set to be the largest operation of the war to date, you were up quite late ensuring everything was in place, unsurprised that Harding had ordered Bucky to bed to rest up – that only meant one thing. He would be flying tomorrow.

The target was an airfield just outside Paris, mercifully not another foray deep into Germany, but the customary knot that settled into your stomach seemed to twist all the more acutely this time. Making your way down the stairs on your crutches, bearing a little more weight on your ankle now, on Doctor McLean’s instructions, you were surprised to find Captain Miller waiting for you at the door.

“Good evening, Lieutenant. I was hoping to catch you alone.”

“Ma’am.” You juggled your crutches awkwardly in order to salute her, doing your best to keep the confusion and concern from your voice.

She began the walk towards the barracks at a slow pace, allowing you make your way alongside her as she spoke. “I’ve received orders this afternoon from Pinetree that effective September 10th you will be transferring there as a member of their Operations staff.”

Your head whirled to look at her angular profile, her hair perfectly smooth beneath her cap, as she delivered this devastating news as though it had as much effect on your life as the fact that it might rain later. The bottom of your left crutch snagged into the gravel and dug awkwardly into your armpit, sending you stumbling forward. Somehow you managed not to fall flat upon your face, but all you could croak in response was a pathetic, “Ma’am?!”

Miller eyed you a moment, presumably ensuring your stability before she resumed both her speech and her progress towards your quarters. “Your work is impeccable, you should not be surprised that you have been given this opportunity, Lieutenant. I suggest you begin packing. I will see you to the station myself morning after next.”

Nodding, speechless, you continued to shuffle after her. Pinetree – code name for the Headquarters of the 8th Air Force, located in some village just north of London. Quite a ways away from Thorpe Abbotts. Away from Vi and Mary and Ruth – your constant companions through your entire time with the WAC. Away from Bucky. Your throat clenched painfully as you desperately tried to swallow, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

‘Christ, please not in front of the dragon-lady…hold it together girl.’ You chastised yourself and straightened your back, clenched your jaw, willfully keeping an iron grip on yourself.

By the grace of everything holy she kept silent for the rest of the walk, pausing in front of your hut. “This is a good thing, Lieutenant. Now rest up, big day tomorrow.” Miller nodded firmly and you shared a salute before she continued on her way.

Taking a shaking breath, you crept inside, leg aching from the walk, throat aching from smothered emotion. The rest of the occupants were all sleeping, oblivious to your plight, and you miraculously managed to keep it that way, sliding into your cot at last to allow silent tears to roll down your cheeks. You should have used those four hours to rest before waking early, knowing Bucky would still insist on driving you to the mess and then the Control Tower before his flight, but sleep was about as friendly with you as Captain Miller that night.

As your alarm clock went off, and Vi hurled a pillow at you for the insult of vicariously waking her with it as well, you were quite convinced you had not managed a minute of sleep. Running through your morning routine like some kind of robot, you began to make your way toward the mess, smiling weakly even as your heart wrenched beneath your ribs to hear his jeep pull up beside you.

“Morning, doll.”

“Morning, Bucky.” You sighed, turning to him, afraid to meet his eyes. Afraid he might be able to see right through you, and not wanting to burden him with this impending separation right before he went up. “You go on ahead, I know you’re busy…”

“Doll, please don’t hit me, but what time did you get to bed last night? Get in the jeep.”

Despite yourself, despite the yawning dread in your gut, you still felt a laugh bubble up your throat. Perhaps not to the usual brightness he would have earned, but Bucky was still able to earn it.

“Late.” You sighed, surrendering your crutches to the back of the jeep, sliding in beside him. “But clearly, I need to put on a better face. ‘A WAC should never appear tired or distressed.’” You quoted one of your instructors from Fort Des Moines.

He huffed with a playful roll of his eyes as he put the vehicle into motion. “As far as I’m concerned doll, you’ve more than done your duty for this mission.”

You looked to him curiously, brain sluggish without any food to fuel it yet.

“‘Release a man for combat.’” He glanced at you with a wicked grin as he quoted the former WAC slogan, the one that had been in use before your superiors had truly understood the connotations of such a statement, and your jaw dropped as you felt heat paint its way down your neck.

“John Clarence Egan.” You hissed in half-hearted admonishment, shaking your head as a grin snuck its way onto your features in spite of it all. Sighing deeply as, after mere moments with him, you already found your mood much improved. “I’m gonna m–” Quickly slapping your hand over your mouth lest you admit to more than you were prepared to at this time of day, you feigned a yawn which made him chuckle under his breath as he pulled up in front of the mess.

“Maybe need a nap?” He finished mischievously and you just nodded, leveraging yourself out of the jeep, still feeling sore after your long walk to bed last night. “I’ll see you after briefing.”

“You don’t have to, Bucky I can make it just fine, you’re busy.”

“That wince you just failed to hide says otherwise, doll. I’ll see you in an hour or so.” He eyed you sternly and you gulped painfully, already feeling quite lost at the idea of being separated from him.

“I’m going to start walking if you’re late.” You tried a small smile on for size, preparing yourself to enter the mess with a pleasant look on your face.

“I’ll find you!” He threatened as he pulled away slowly, careful not to kick up any gravel in your direction and all you could do was shake your head fondly.

You were doomed.

Breakfast was a quiet affair, the few already up this early only present for the sake of fuelling their bodies and not really seeking conversation. Burying your nose in a book that you could not even manage to read one sentence of, you lasted all of forty-five minutes before your nerves got the better of you and insisted on action rather than wasting time while you waited for Bucky to be ready. Gritting your teeth against the protest in your joints, you began making your way down the road toward the Control Tower, needing very much to be useful else you might simply drown in the complexity of your emotions.

Regardless, you would need to get used to being independent once more. Pinetree, or High Wycombe as it was properly known on a map, would not have a private chauffer awaiting you. It remained to be seen how much distance you would need to cover in your daily duties and there was no time like the present to start practicing. You were almost halfway there when Bucky pulled up alongside, dressed in his flight suit, eyebrow raised impatiently.

“Someone definitely needs a nap.” He narrowed his eyes, gesturing at the open bench seat beside him.

Sighing deeply, you pulled the crutches from beneath your armpits to slide into the back before climbing into the jeep next to him. “I was falling asleep at the table.” You muttered as he pulled out. “I didn’t mean to insult you…”

His only reply was a gently squeezing of your knee, a quick motion between his steering of the vehicle, but you could tell he was not pleased. Combined with the quiet thoughtfulness that overcame him on his way to a mission, it made for a silent drive to the Control Tower. As he pulled up in front of the building, you turned to press a warm kiss to his cheek, feeling him tense in surprise at your rather visible display of affection.

“See you in a few hours.” You smiled to him tenderly and he offered you a lopsided grin in reply.

“You bet, doll. No sleeping on your desk, now.” He winked as you slid out and you offered him a laugh over your shoulder as you made your way inside.

Organized chaos awaited you in the Operations Room. Now officially billed as a practice run for the invasion of France, the entire base seemed to be alert and involved in this mission, many appearing just as tired as you. Situating yourself at your desk, you dove in headfirst, grateful for the all-consuming work before you. It did not allow for any ponderance of what tomorrow would bring, nor for you to feel the depth of your fatigue. The morning fairly flew by in a flurry of paper and typewriter ribbon, with one of the other women in the office taking over the duties of delivering wireless transmissions and teletype tape to the brass given your still-healing injury.

Upon reports of the safe return of all twenty-one of the planes that the 100th had contributed to the mission, you finally allowed yourself to surface for a break, making a trip to the washroom. On your slow return journey, you were startled when Colonel Harding stepped into your path, sliding his trademark cigar from his lips to speak.

“I’ve just been informed we’re losing you tomorrow, Lieutenant.”

So, it seemed the news was beginning to make its way around the base, then.

“Yes, sir, it is true.” You nodded, trying your best to keep your facial expression neutral.

“If I had known what a pain it would be, I would never have sung your praises so loudly to General Eaker.” He chuckled though you found it very difficult to focus on the words he was speaking as Major Cleven stepped into the Operations Room.

‘Why is Buck here? If all the planes made it back, why is Buck here?’

Your heart began to thrash frantically against the cage of your ribs as though it intended to break free in its panic. If Bucky were to assign anyone with the grim duty of breaking some horrible news to you, it would surely be his best friend. Nodding vaguely in reply to Harding, who was still speaking about something – possible Eaker’s personality, the level of dread within you only increased as Cleven’s eyes sought you out in the crowded room. Your stomach dropped further and further with each step he took in your direction.

Despite Harding’s apparent obliviousness to your terror, Cleven’s sky blue eyes traced over your face as he came to stand just behind the Colonel, casually crossing his arms before giving you a discreet thumbs up and slight nod of reassurance. It was subtle yet incredibly effective, almost instantly restoring your ability to breathe and easing the racing of your heart.

“Well, on to bigger and greater things, right Lieutenant?” Harding grinned at you, and you nodded quickly as the words once again registered in your brain, the dull roar of terror receding to the darker corners of your mind.

“That’s right sir, but I will miss everyone here.”

“But not little East Anglia I bet.” He laughed before sliding his cigar back into his mouth and dismissing you with a nod, making his way over to confer with Major Bowman who had just returned from interrogation.

“My apologies, Lieutenant. I did not mean to frighten you.” Cleven frowned as he stepped closer to address you directly. “Bucky is fine, just getting some stitches in his forearm – bit of flak, nothing to worry about.”

Exhaling slowly, you nodded gratefully. “Thank you very much for delivering the message, Major. I’m sorry I panicked.”

“Don’t worry, I don’t think the Colonel noticed.” A tiny smile tugged at the corner of his lips, and you pressed your own together to prevent yourself from laughing at Harding’s expense. “But, unless I’m mistaken, it sounds like you’re leaving us.” He tilted his head and your mouth immediately pulled down at the corners into a frown before you could stop it.

“I haven’t told anyone yet, I…I just found out last night and…” You tugged at your fingers nervously, a somewhat dramatic wringing of your hands.

“It sounds an awful lot like a promotion.” He prompted in that soft-spoken way of his and you nodded quickly.

“Supposedly a ‘good thing’ but it’s nowhere near here and I’m worried.”

“Worried about the job or…”

You gulped roughly and took a long hard look at Bucky’s best friend, the man he had sent to tell you he was all right, just a bit delayed in the hospital. The man he would have surely entrusted to tell you he was not all right, if it had come to that.

“Leaving Bucky.” You admitted, eyes quickly darting down to your brown, low-heeled dress shoes.

“Don’t you worry about that idiot. Trust me, he’s in good hands.” You could hear the smile in Cleven’s voice as he spoke, and you risked a glance upwards to confirm that he was in fact shooting you a soft smile of reassurance. “I’ve kept him alive this long, haven’t I?”

You scoffed a laugh as it really was hard to tell in moments like these who had the bigger ego, Bucky or Buck. All the same, you deeply appreciated his reassurances.

“Thank you, Major. I will tell him just as soon as I see him.” You assured him in kind, knowing he would be looking out for his friend’s best interests as well.

“Hopefully he doesn’t run into Harding first.” He smirked and shoved his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. “The Colonel is right though, we will miss you.”

“Thank you Major, the feeling is mutual.” You nodded, swallowing thickly as he nodded warmly in reply before turning to make his way out of the rapidly calming room, the level of activity waning now that the mission had been accomplished.

Bucky himself did not make his appearance until the end of your shift as you made your way out of the building, fit to fall asleep on your feet but facing an evening of packing and goodbyes instead. Leaning against the side of his jeep, he grinned to see you appear and you could not help but smile in return, crutching over to him as he met you halfway.

“Your own set of stitches hmmm?” You tilted your head curiously and he huffed.

“It barely needed it, but Buck insisted and then once Doc McLean got his hands on me…” He grumbled, pressing his lips to your temple in greeting. “Buck said he scared the hell out of you, sorry about that. We’ll work out a better signal next time.”

Taking a shaky breath, you turned to look at him, deciding there was no time like the present. “A…about that Bucky.” Despite your intentions, you still struggled to string the words together. “I’m being transferred.”

His steps lurched to a halt and a look of pure bewilderment came over him. “Transferred?”

Nodding slowly, you reached out to cup his cheek, despite the way it made you wildly unstable on your crutches. “Yeah. Promotion it seems. Doing too good of a job…” You felt tears welling in your eyes and blinked rapidly to try and stave them off.

“Hell, are they sending you to Division?” He croaked.

“Bucky, you know I can’t–”

“Headquarters then…damn doll, I’m proud of you.” The smile he bestowed upon you was brilliant, but the effort that it took him to summon was just as evident, and you could only shake your head sadly as those cursed tears slipped out of the corners of your eyes.

Bucky’s broad palms were quickly cupping your cheeks as his thumbs swiped them away as fast as your tear ducts could produce them. “Got my very own dame in Pinetree.” He grinned cockily and pressed his lips between your brows as you sniffled hopelessly. “Well done.”

“Gonna miss you, though.” You insisted weakly.

“Don’t you go getting all General crazy now. Don’t forget about your poor little Major back in little old East Anglia.” His tone was light, playful, though the sentiment did not fully reach his eyes which seemed somewhat hollow, resembling the endless depths of the ocean more than ever just then.

“Never.” You replied vehemently, gasping as his lips were suddenly on yours in broad daylight, surrounded by all manner of humanity, earning a few whistles and catcalls from his fellow airmen.

“Good.” Bucky replied firmly and pulled back slowly. “Suppose we gotta get you packed hmmm?”

“Yeah…” You breathed softly and relished the feeling of his hand on your lower back as you covered the last of the distance to the jeep, sitting as close as possible to him while he drove to your quarters. “I’ll write you.” You promised as he parked, and he grinned.

“I’ll write back.” Bucky tapped your nose fondly and you reached out, gently pushing his sleeve up, frowning as you found no bandage on that arm before grabbing his other hand to repeat the process.

When your eyes fell on the white gauze wrapped around his forearm you bent your head to press a soft kiss there. “Heal quickly.”

“What time do you leave tomorrow?” His question was barely above a whisper.

“0530, to catch the first train.”

“I’ll see you at 0515, then?”

Furrowing your brows, you spoke with the rational side of your brain only. “You should sleep in, there’s no mission tomorrow.”

Bucky snorted and tugged you closer by the hand still holding onto his. “And let you leave without kissing you one last time?” He raised an eyebrow and tilted his head to press his lips to yours as if to prove his point.

Melting against him with a sigh, you were sorely tempted to ask him to drive you to out to the end of the runway to look at the stars once more. To play fast and loose with more than just your need to pack. Unfortunately, Ruth’s warning cut through the swell of recklessness that was building within you.

“Miller alert. She’s less than two minutes out.” She said quickly as she passed by the jeep before darting into your quarters and you pulled back sharply.

“0515, then.” You conceded with a nod and peck his lips once more before sliding from the vehicle and following your friend into your hut to begin the process of breaking the news and filling your suitcases.

By the time you slid into bed, not much earlier than the night previous, you were convinced that the next person who offered you a bravely proud face would be met with your fist in their nose.

‘Why can they not be as devastated as I am?’ You wondered as you lay you head onto your pillow to begin another fruitless wrestling match with the elusive prize of sleep. ‘Or at least admit that they are, instead of putting on that mask of happiness on my behalf. I’m not happy.’

You alarm clock, shrill and earlier than everyone else’s, was not greeted with the usual affronted reactions, but groggy hugs before you forced your companions back into their cots, moving your pair of mismatched suitcases outside the door one-by-one once you were dressed and ready. Bucky was there, waiting against his jeep in the wan grey light, soft smile settling on his features as you appeared.

He rushed forward to grab your luggage, putting it into the back of his jeep automatically, making you laugh softly.

“Captain Miller is picking me up here shortly, we’re just waiting for her.”

He huffed and guided you to sit on the front seat of the jeep as you waited, taking the weight off your leg. “Don’t even get to drive you one last time.”

“Today. One last time, today.” You amended firmly, looking up to him as he leaned over you, braced against the frame of the vehicle.

“You’re right, not forever.”

“No. Just for now.” You swallowed as your throat clenched painfully.

“For now.” He echoed and bent his head to kiss you softly.

The sound of a jeep pulling up behind his, grinding on one of the gears before coming to an abrupt stop, signalled the arrival of Captain Miller.

“She’s early, doll.” Bucky griped against your lips, and you sighed.

“‘A punctual WAC is an effective WAC.’” You whispered and slid to your feet.

Bucky stepped back to grab your luggage, moving it into the rear of Miller’s vehicle as you crutched along behind him. Standing at the passenger’s side, you gave him a watery smile.

“See you soon, Bucky.”

“Take care near that big city, doll.” He rumbled back, hesitating a moment before lunging forward to slide his arms around your waist.

Hauling you close against him, your mouths collided in a thorough kiss as the brim of his cap clipped yours, sending it flying backward into the road.

“Major Egan!” Captain Miller barked shrilly, but neither of you paid her any mind, clinging to one another until only life-giving oxygen necessitated that you part.

“You…take care here Bucky.” Your eyes bore into his firmly and he nodded in understanding.

“Lieutenant, get in this vehicle at once.” Captain Miller barked again, and you tensed under the direct order, wheeling to obey.

Bucky retrieved your cap, dusting it off and exchanging it for your crutches which he stowed in the back beside your suitcases.

Your eyes never left him, even as Captain Miller ground her way through several gears, getting the jeep into motion. Mouthing a silent ‘bye,’ which he mimicked, you turned in your seat to watch him become smaller and smaller behind you until you could no longer distinguish him in the distance.

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

Read Part Four - "I Trust You Know What You're Doing?"

"Trust" Series Masterlist

Tag list: @gretagerwigsmuse, @precious-little-scoundrel, @rubyfruitjungle, @storysimp, @mads-weasley, @xxanaduwrites, @bcon24, @fxxiva, @slowsweetlove, @hockeyboysarehot

#john egan x reader #bucky egan x reader #john egan imagine #john egan fic #mota fanfic #masters of the air fanfiction

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iwishf1wasreal · 1 month

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F1 Driver NSFW Profile: ✴ Carlos Sainz ✴ smut ✴ 18+ readers only

I. Flirt.

He thinks of himself as a very classy guy. He has no desire to be the loudest in the crowd or draw too much attention to himself. He feels the same about flirting. He’d rather live up to his nickname, Smooth Operator, and subtly yet suavely get your attention. He's also decidedly somewhat against PDA with a few minor exceptions depending on the occasion. But when you’re alone, he’s all over you. He’s also very romantic, a man who doesn’t just buy you roses or light a few candles because he thinks that’s what he should do. He genuinely enjoys it and can riff off of the classic romantic gestures to make them perfectly tailored to you. But mostly because he’s private and quite protective, PDA is at a very discrete minimum.

II. Propositioning.

Again, he’ll lead with romance. A deep kiss that takes your breath away. Tender and lingering touches once you’re behind closed doors. He’ll lead you to the base of the bed, kissing your neck and hands running over the skin, bunching up the bottom of your top. Carlos is also pretty controlled. He tends to have a pretty good cap on whatever emotions are just bubbling underneath, so he’s not exactly ripping you out of the party to take out in the back alley. It’s much less saucy and provocative. But once you know him, know his mannerisms and expressions, he can still light a fire in the pit of your belly by simply making eye contact with you over the ring of his glass. The mask he wears is neutral, perfectly acceptable for the public occasion but you know what he’s thinking. You can practically see it spelled out on his forehead. You’ll do your best to convince him to head home early.

III. Libido.

He could go all day but finds that a waste of an entire day. He’s young and athletic, so he benefits from his strength and stamina. He definitely would not consider himself a sexual person though you would be first to argue that he certainly fucks like one. Sexuality would be so private for him, and he would need to feel comfortable as well, so one-night stands had been mostly infrequent before you.

IV. Turn-Ons: tame & nasty.

Tame: Red dresses. High heels. Red fingernail polish. Dangly earrings. Low-cut tops. When you touch his bicep when you laugh. Watching you dance. When his cooking makes you moan. Reaching out for him in the middle of the night. Watching you lean over to take a golf shot and you purposefully wiggle your bum because you know he’s watching. Short golf skirts and those little white socks with sneakers. Nails scratching against his scalp. Drinking beer. Hide behind him. Letting him feed you. Watching each other from across the room.

Nasty: When you open your mouth and stick out your tongue at him to show him you’ve swallowed all he gave you. You sprawled on the bed with your hair fanned out behind you, covered in a mist of sweat with a tied, satisfied smile. When he starts taking you harder from behind so you have to reach back and hold on to him. Desperate gasps of his name. Eye contact. When he hits just the right spot and you let out some sort of exclamation.

V. Self-stimulation.

Generally when he’s away, it's with his imagination. Maybe a sex video off the internet if he’s looking for the release to relieve stress more than sexual frustration. Would never and does not ask about nudes but happily accepts them if you’re willing to share. Facetime sex is also an option but he has to be wined and dined, so to speak. He doesn’t want you to just answer completely bare or in the shower. He wants you to make some sort of effort, maybe a lovely dress or one of his shirts and colour coordinated panties. Something that shows him you’ve been looking forward to the call as much as he has.

VI. Foreplay.

If you wanted, he’d happily go down on you and expect nothing in return. Sometimes, you’ll even offer or reach to thank him–still dazed from your orgasm and he’ll stop you. “If only we had all day, cariño.” he’ll smile softly before he kisses you deeply and gets out of bed. He’s easily convinced for another full round in the shower but he’ll start to get antsy if you keep him beyond that. Doing something whilst you’re winding down in the evening isn’t sworn off by any means and wine can make his hands wander. But he needs to at least feel like he’s done more with his day than just you.

VII. Rhythm.

Because he is so genuinely romantic, he prefers a tender and savouring rhythm. Relatively quiet during sex, not because he’s not feeling it or is embarrassed. He’s just always so much in his head and sex can be quite emotional for him. You can get him out of it with enough coaxing and making him feel so good he loses his inhibitions. Otherwise, he’s a lot of shallow breathing and gentle groans.

VIII. How He Likes It.

He’s a missionary guy with some variation: legs folded to your chest, held down so you're folded in half or propped up against his shoulders. Maybe with you sideways beneath him while he’s still poised on top of you. Mostly he’s focused on keeping your eye contact or watching you react to what he’s giving you. Though, he feels best in doggy but sometimes fully can’t concentrate on thrusting when you start circling your hips and throwing it back.

IX. Location, location, location.

Obviously, being so private, it’s in the comfort and safety of whatever bedroom you find yourselves staying in that week. Craziest place you’ve done it is a golf course. One of the very few times you’ve let him drag you to the course and he pretends like you aren’t half asleep ranting about groundwater pollution and the loss of habitat on the way there. But he likes seeing you in the little outfit and the way you cling to him since you’re so out of your element. It’s also one of the rare times he’s gone without his usual golf entourage which makes it feel like you simply must take advantage. He’s not really much for you topping so you considered it another reason for the special occasion when you come across hole number 11 that’s shaded in shrubs and trees. The golf cart squeaked the whole time and Carlos almost ruined his own orgasm thinking someone else’s cart was starting to crest over the hill but you did it. Slightly awkward and dazed after, you still got it done. It seemed to spark a frenzy in him though, he was behind you coaching you through every swing. When, normally, he likes to throw you into the deep end and gleefully watch you struggle. It’s one memory he and his imagination rely on heavily when he’s away.

X. Kinky.

Not particularly kinky, more about each individual experience than wanting to recreate or dedicate certain experiences every time. Solidifies the belief that “vanilla” doesn’t have to mean boring. He’s just a partner who values a connection that feels the same and based in emotions. Sex is an expression of love for him.

XI. Bedroom aids/Toys.

He’s down to use a vibrator during sex if that’s something you’re into. He’s not really that kind of devious where he’ll suggest it or just pull it out in the moment and evaluate your reaction. He’s rational enough not to see it as a competitor and he knows you rely on it when he’s gone. So he does his best to work in tandem though when things get to the nitty gritty, sometimes he can struggle to multitask so either you need to take over and put the vibrator to the spot that feels right or he’ll toss it across the bed and focus on one thing at a time.

XII. Cum.

Again, he can last a while especially if he uses the intense mind-over-matter mentality he’s perfected from racing. He’d prefer to use condoms simply because the clean-up can be easier…But isn’t opposed to going raw.

XIII. Pleasure reciprocation.

You give head fairly equally and he will try anything you ask him to. Degradation was particularly hard from him. He’d start out good, calling you names and taunting you with his dick but after a certain point he couldn’t hold up the act any more. “I can’t do it, amor. It feels wrong, I can’t do it. “ He panted heavily in your ear after his thrusts came to a halt. But ultimately, he’s good with head. Understands the need for varaction and strong suction. Also, once he observed just how, uh, /helpful/ his nose could be…he really stepped up his game in a whole new way.

IVX. Bonus.

Though he’s not particularly loud in the bedroom, he does indulge in dirty talk but in his native Spanish. If you’re not a fluent speaker, he tries to use it as motivation to get you to learn.

When you ask what he’d just purred so sultrily in your ear, he tuts disapprovingly. “Tienes que seguir estudiando, mi amor.”

He’ll stay in Spanish the entire time, sometimes even let his native tongue bleed into whatever you’re doing after. Even acts like Spanish just feels so much better on his tongue, he can’t help that he stays in it.

One time when you’re on your knees for him, he’s particularly talkative. A soft husky tone, just between the two of you despite his empty Milano flat. He’s got one hand in your hair, keeping it out of your face as you go down on him.

“Dios–Fuck, Oh my–” It was the first time he slips between the two languages but it’s only momentary. Once his eyes came fluttering open and you pulled off him for a moment to breathe, hands taking over for a moment. “Cariño, por favor.” He sounded desperate, his free hand clutching the arm of the chair he’s seated on, hand desperately grasping at the fabric. Trying to find some semblance of reality to hold on to.

So rarely do you have him in the palm of your hand. You were smirking to yourself, looking at him with big innocent eyes and his body started to trash. He said something else in Spanish, he had said it enough times that you knew it meant he was close. In this moment, it wasn’t lost on you that his repetition of perverted lessons in Spanish might actually be paying off.

You put your mouth back over him, starting slowly again–a contrast to the firm, strong pace of your hand. Focusing on the head, you let your tongue rub against it and his hips bucked involuntarily. He says more in Spanish but you can’t really hear him. You’ve taken him back down your throat. No warning just as far as you can fit him. He’s practically howling now, Spanish words blending together you’re not sure if he’s coherent.

He didn’t last much longer, whiny and whimpering when you kept sucking after he finished. When Carlos finally breaks free, he lets out a long string of curse words–jumbled between English and Spanish.

“You okay, baby?” You ask in an innocent tone, gentle hands still fondling him. He hisses as your hand caresses his tip again. He almost looks like he might cry.

“¡Ay, carino, por favor!” He hissed, snatching your hand off his dick and reaching for his shorts from around his ankle. “Suficiente. Estoy suficiente, por favor.” You couldn’t help but giggle. Carlos, always so composed and control, fucked out and overstimulated, practically ready to jump out of his skin if you even flinched to reach out for him again. “I need time to recover.” He huffed, looking at you with stern brown eyes.

“Si, señor.” you saluted him playfully and he sighed, side eyeing you like he was debating something. Before you can ask, Carlos peeled himself out of the chair and extended his hand to help you up. Once face to face, you kissed him. Letting him taste himself on your tongue before you both went your separate ways for the day.

“I think you could use some one on one tutoring,” he tutted, looking you up and down.

“Por que?” you asked back with mock insult.

Carlos didn’t answer. Just rolled his eyes and bent to swing you over his shoulder, dragging you up to your bedroom.

#i had to abandon the formattign to get it to post everyone boo tumblr #carlos sainz #carlos sainz jr #carlos sainz x reader #f1 smut #f1 x reader #f1blr #carlos sainz imagine

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yourfuckingmomdotcom · 9 months

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Yandere Butler x Autistic Reader

The autistic girlies, guys, or otherwise deserve yandere content tailored to ourselves, and I’m sick of pretending otherwise /hj.

The general idea is that this takes place in a time before an autism diagnosis even existed, like the Victorian Era, but arguably the DSM III added autism in 1980, so you could be in any of those times and still technically be timewise correct. But also you can just imagine him as a modern dude who doesn’t get what’s up.

Oh also, this is inspired a lot by @kiame-sama . Do I know what a Chrollo is? Nope. Did I love the fic she made? Fuck yea. (Accidentally tagged someone else at first, sorry you didn’t see this!) CW: Non-consentual cuddling, mild drugging, yandere, autistic reader, sensory overload mentions, general violence and murder stuff

🂡 Yandere Butler was brought on by your uncle after your parents unfortunate passing. You had been passed the helm of owning their small but thriving gunsmith operations, as well as the family house and assets. Being unwed and rather young, the butler was sent to manage the things that seriously stressed you out. He, as well as your other associates, assume you are just someone of a delicate constitution, and therefore he’s always fretting over you. Initially he didn’t get it, he did his very emotionally separated duties, but he noticed how much you struggled with specific things, and how you absolutely lit up at the things you love. He found it charming and enthralling, and he could no longer separate his duties and himself. 🂡 Yandere Butler will listen to you ramble for hours over your special interest. Now, how much he understands depends entirely on the content, but he will sit there regardless. As you excitedly go over every detail as best as you can trying to get him to understand what makes you so enthusiastic, he’ll ask leading questions and generally try and find ways to engage deeper in the things you enjoy. It’s the least he could do, since it seems to make you so happy.

🂡 Yandere Butler will overstep professional boundaries as long as you’re unaware of them. He appreciates what he sees as feign innocence and gullibleness that allows him to do things that wouldn’t be possible otherwise. With the low oversight of his position in the house, as well as the authority he holds, he uses this to sneak touches under the guise of fixing something with your garments or your posture. He’ll take what feels like decades to get you dresses in the morning as he slowly glides stockings or woolen socks over your legs, placing the garter so gently atop your thigh. The small ways you allow him to touch you are to him the highlight of his day, especially if you’re really touch adverse.

🂡 Though, Yandere Butler, does understand that your comfort comes first. He finds it somewhat enjoyable to find a middle ground between sensory-safe clothing, as well as clothes deemed acceptable by wider society. He makes sure that your tailor uses the specific fiber and weave to make sure you have an exceptionally predictable texture to fall back on with any garment. He also will find ways to get you the right silhouette while avoiding a lot of structure if that bothers you. If all else fails, he might resort to more homey garments.

🂡 Yandere Butler pays close attention to your nutrition as well, always making sure to get sensory safe foods as well as some you’ve never tried before to widen your horizons just a bit. If the maids and chefs cook something wrong, or in a way you find unpalatable, there will absolutely be hell to pay. Well, moreso just a very loud scolding after you’ve retired to bed for the night, but it still hurts their feelings... He keeps his more unpleasant reprimands for when you’ve fallen asleep because he understands that you feel bad for the workers in your home when he gets like this, so he just does it out of sight. If ever invited to a required formal event, god forbid, he’ll always bring a snack and a handkerchief in case you really didn’t like what was available.

🂡 Yandere Butler also manages your medications, vitamins, and any other substances you take throughout the day. Don’t even consider doing something elicit or uncouth such as smoking or drinking more than a flute of champagne, and if you do something more elicit you’ll probably give him a heart attack. But this unadulterated access to these things lets him do things that are very ungenteel. He requires you take a sleep aid, practically knocks you out, and he takes this time to cuddle you while in your sleep. He knows you’re usually not one for unprompted blunt affection, so he only does so when you’re sleeping. He finds your resting face adorable, and he prefers to hold you in the honeymoon hug position.

🂡 Yandere Butler, who due to your “delicate constitution” is usually helping you through sensory overloads. If you would grant him the honor, he’ll hold you tenderly in his arms as you ease back into comfort, slowly rocking both of you back and forth. Or, if you’re not ok with touching, he’ll prepare your chambers with dim lights, comforting sounds, and your bed all made and smelling of fragrances you find soothing. Despite not knowing the actual root of this behavior, he’s surprisingly accommodating and has gotten your sensory needs down to a science… which is sort of the problem.

🂡 The Yandere Butler figured out that going outside into town caused you mild to a great distress. So he made your life more simple, no more going out frivolously!... You were confused, and when you asked for more information he basically put a ban on any outside activity that wasn’t business or a disaster within the house. You got really sad about that, as you needed to go out and get things frequently for your hobbies. He ignored your short pleas to go out, initially only responding with something along the lines of, “Then go out to the gardens.”, but he knew he couldn’t keep you inside forever.

🂡 So, Yandere Butler scheduled every “unnecessary” outdoor event to be a sensory nightmare. He hates to see you so distressed, but it’s the only way you’ll learn apparently. This is only made worse by the fact he’s essentially made a sensory heaven inside of your manor, so when you go out it’s a lot worse since you’re so used to being catered to that the sensory discomfort becomes full of sensory pain. And you and him both know you can’t make a scene, lest you be ousted from high society and made a mockery of, so you’re hastily rushed back home to be coddled by him once again. It’s a very negative cycle you’ve got yourself caught up in, and it’s extremely difficult to get out of that cycle. Eventually, he hopes you’ll send a maid out to collect whatever you need instead of trying to leave him again, but until that time comes he’ll do this as much as you need until you get the memo.

🂡 Yandere Butler also manages many of your social and business connections. He’ll whisper in your ear how to deal with boring things like business decisions, stocks, and all the choices he doesn’t want you fretting about. But, he also will make sure to restrict any suitors or and non-business social events. He’ll throw out letters for frivolous parties, as he doesn’t want you tainted by others. He also will throw out suitor letters, which can make some interactions at formal business dinners a bit awkward for you when many suitors come up to you to ask about if anything got through, but the butler will whisk you away and explain that the mail must just be slow. 🂡 But one day, while a maid was cleaning the butler's room in the servants quarters, a maid finds the letters thrown out in his personal rubbish bin. She reads through them all rather confused, wondering why these wouldn’t be given directly to the master of the house. She wasn’t one to interfere with others' business, but something ticked her off. But as she’s about to walk off with an engagement letter, the butler walks in with 3 more in hand. There was a panic and a struggle from both of them, as the butler made sure she’d never be able to tell her tale.

🂡 That night, the Yandere Butler burnt the butchered maid, as well as all of the letters he’d previously thrown out to ash in the manors incinerator. He’d make sure not to make such a mistake again…

🂡 The next day, Yandere Butler makes you a special breakfast and brings it to your room. He coos, explaining that a particular maid stole from the wine cellar, and as she dropped and cracked the bottle, the red wine spilt across the floor. After that he let her go from her position, and he needed time to clean the mess himself, apologizing that your schedule was messed with and that you’re confined to the room for the day to protect your garments. Everytime you walk past the servant quarters door, you see a small red stain and remember the taste of red wine.

#tw autistic reader #x autistic reader #yandere oc #male yandere #yandere butler #yandere x reader #male yandere x reader #x gn reader #x reader #yandere drabble #yandere imagines

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perseephoneee · 14 days

Text

⭑ FIC RECS ⭑

↳ masterlist ↳ ship exchange ↳ taglist ↳ 1k celebration

last updated: 04/15/2024

↳ as a writer, i'm always consuming things about my favs, and i thought it was time to share some of my favorites. every story here has likely been reread by moi a million times. also-- my psyche can be easily viewed by how many stories are under one individuals *cries*

SUPERNATURAL

every headcanon from @via-l0ve

her boys @octoberclidan. (tfw)

dances with team free will @octoberclidan

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ DEAN WINCHESTER

cruel summer (18+) @waynes-multiverse

ladies with experience (18+) @hintsofhoney

dean reads you wrong @zepskies

she's my siren (18+) @fatecantstopme

smoke eater (series) @zepskies

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ SAM WINCHESTER

a taste of summer @impala-dreamer

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ CASTIEL

dreaming (18+) @impala-dreamer

beautiful to me @impala-dreamer

angel alpha (18+) @crashdevlin

i'll watch over you @octoberclidan

if you will have me, i'm yours (18+) @gilverrwrites

neckties @supernaturalfreewill

love, by any other name @zepskies

peculiar @supernaturalfreewill

because of books @supernaturalfreewill

last night on earth (18+) @hollybell51

don't bet on it (18+) @hollybell51

his charge (18+) @impala-dreamer

sharing is caring (III) @zepskies

TEEN WOLF

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ ISAAC LAHEY

sick reader @smellslikemultifandomimagines

aftercare @smellslikemultifandomimagines

hidden with isaac @scoopsahoy

mutual losing (18+) @smellslikemultifandomimagines

facesitting (18+) @smellslikemultifandomimagines

cruel summer @hotdogwillex

come back to me @hotdogwillex

cold feet, warm bodies (18+) @scoopsahoy

i'm gonna kiss you now @sourwulf

drunken confessions @teenwolffan-with-nolife

dream @rogershoe

fratboy!isaac (18+) (all time fav) @mermaidenisaacs

teaches you to kiss (18+) @mermaidenisaacs

prove me wrong (18+) @twjournals

VAMPIRE DIARIES

dating the mikaelsons @wholoveseggs

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ ELIJAH MIKAELSON

hold (18+) @wholoveseggs

extra-extraordinary (18+) @wholoveseggs

blood bath (18+) @wholoveseggs

warmth (18+) @wholoveseggs

the result of naps @fitzs-trained-monkey

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ KLAUS MIKAELSON

she knew better (18+) @klausysworld

distracted @theeoriginals

you bring me home @theeoriginals

sharp (18+) @theeoriginals

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ KOL MIKAELSON

christmas khaos @wholoveseggs

goodnight kisses @kmikaelsonimagines

frustrations (18+) @madhatterbri

thigh socks (18+) @geminioriginalsimagines

proposal @kmikaelsonimagines

Christmas in dixie @fitzs-trained-monkey

bruised and battered @fitzs-trained-monkey

shots @so-long-soldier-writes

little favors @fitzs-trained-monkey

of ice skates and sugar cookies @fitzs-trained-monkey

ten minute blood stain removal @fitzs-trained-monkey

like a box of chocolates @fitzs-trained-monkey

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ KAI PARKER

for my valentine (18+) @babeydollx

lace (18+) @geminioriginalsimagines

game on (18+) @socio-kai-path1972

kisses @socio-kai-path1972

why? @socio-kai-path1972

affinity romance (18+) @socio-kai-path1972

is it hot in here? (18+) @oneirataxiahiraeth

party crasher (18+) @oneirataxiahiraeth

sex tea (18+) @oneirataxiahiraeth

say it again (18+) @oneirataxiahiraeth

the red means (18+) @oneirataxiahiraeth

the price of hatred (18+) @oneirataxiahiraeth

spoiled (18+) @oneirataxiahiraeth

birthday girl (18+) @oneirataxiahiraeth

STAR TREK

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ JIM KIRK/BONES

a well documented debacle @mybullshitsensesaretingling

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ PAVEL CHEKOV

sweatpants @youre-on-a-starship

MARVEL

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ LOKI

reformed villain squad @give-me-a-moose

overtime (18+) @cleo-fox

loki's happy ending @gingerwritess

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ BUCKY BARNES

graveyard @wkemeup

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ STEVEN GRANT/MARC SPECTOR

red flags (18+) @astroboots

HUNGER GAMES

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ FINNICK O'DAIR

oral headcanon (18+) @lucilleslore

darling and the virgin (18+) @wife-of-all-dilfs

TED LASSO

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ JAMIE TARTT

chilly cheeks @veryberryjelly

about you @buckychristwrites

saved you a seat @benedictscanvas

operation: tartt's heart @theowritesstuff

DOCTOR WHO

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ TENTH DOCTOR

family christmas @writerlyhabits

gestures and evasion @doctenwho

before you go @doctorslove

falling in love again @doctorslove

CRIMINAL MINDS

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ SPENCER REID

virgin!spence (18+) @fortheloveofwonderland

i'd bottle the feelings you gave me @spencersfunkysocks

all the women he's loved before @fortheloveofwonderland

a helping hand (18+) @sinfulspencer

second date @samuel-de-champagne-problems

preciously pure (18+) @foxy-eva

STRANGER THINGS

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ BILLY HARGROVE

two ships passing in the night @hairringtonsteve

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dailycallofduty · 8 months

Text

Campaign Premiere | Call of Duty: Modern Warfare III

The Zordaya Prison Complex contains someone that can shift the tides of the coming conflict in Modern Warfare III. Alpha team makes entry from the water as Bravo and Charlie teams assist in an operation conducted in the Kastovian Sea. Take your first in-depth look at MW3 gameplay in the dark and clandestine mission Operation 627.

Aired first on gamescom Opening Night Live, watch the gameplay on YouTube.

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare 3 #modern warfare 3 #cod mw3 #news #modern warfare iii

369 notes · View notes

devilfic · 1 year

Text

❝right place, right time❞

III. the tower.

parts: previously / next plot: funny what a near-death experience can do for motivation. pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x gn!reader. cw: surgeon!reader, secret identities, slow burn, you are put in a Situation, batman is there to pick up the pieces, you’re not thinking clearly, stop suppressing your emotions goddamn it, hurt/comfort, gang violence, guns, blood and surface wounds, dealing with the effects of trauma. words: 4.7k.

It starts out simple enough.

It’s 11 at night. You’re working late. Way up here, your office is quiet—Gotham quiet. There’s still rain battering the windows and police sirens distant and close and distant again, but it’s quiet enough. It becomes the backdrop of your night, a familiar melody. Your meager little lamp is all the company you have as you scribble away at paperwork you’d left to the last minute, and there’s a nagging in the back of your head about missed dinner. You think, if you can finish this up quickly, that you might treat yourself to the 24-hour diner down the street before heading home.

Only a few minutes pass before the nagging is accompanied by a stomach growl. You decide to make paperwork tomorrow you’s problem.

You grab your things and lock up your office and you’re getting off on the first floor when something snaps in the air like a firecracker. You’re no stranger to the sound, but you can’t recall the last time you’d heard a gunshot this close.

Down the hall, through a spattering of ER nurses with their hands above their heads, is a man with a gun pointed at you.

They train you for things like this in medical school. How to identify tattoos, clothes, and demeanor. How to say the right things so that you don’t get caught in the crossfire. How to deescalate until security guards are in the room with you.

Every once in a while (because it’s Gotham, because it’s your chosen hellhole), a gang war breaks out and the ER floods with members of all affiliations. Bloodied and brawling, it trickles into the waiting rooms and operating rooms. No matter how much they all hated each other, they all bled the same.

You wonder how this one will end.

The man is frenzied. You can see through his tattered pants leg that he’d been slashed or maybe shot at, it’s hard to see from so far away, but he lets you get a closer look eventually. He’s limping as quickly as he can down the hall toward you, gun never wavering. Some nurses behind him turn and whisper about what to do. If you strain to hear over the ringing in your ears, you can make out more commotion coming from the ER still.

“Where the fuck is he?” The approaching man spits at you. He’s feet away now, and if it weren’t for his arm outstretched, he’d be right in your face. “Where the fuck is Ghost?”

He says the name like you ought to know this “Ghost”. You raise your hands carefully to show you mean no harm, shaking all the while. You consider what you can say that won’t anger him further, “I don’t know who Ghost is,” you stammer, “did he come through here?”

“Don’t fucking play with me. I know that motherfucker cut a deal. I’m not letting him outta this hospital alive.”

You’re careful not to look around lest it alert him, but you’re struggling to put together a response on the little context you have. Staring down the barrel of his gun is all you can think to do.

The longer you take, the more agitated he becomes. He steps forward and presses the gun against your temple and that’s when the words start jumping out of your mouth, “He was badly injured, right? Worse than you?” His eyes narrow, but he doesn’t correct you, “he’s probably in surgery if they took him somewhere. GCPD can’t interfere until he’s stabilized. He’s still in the building.”

Whatever you’ve said seems to be the right thing because the gun isn’t cutting into you anymore. You can pick up movement behind him in your peripheral, nurses corralling other gang members and keeping the hallway clear. Some calling for more guards, the police, anyone.

You share a few breaths with the man. He’s taller than you with an army buzz coated in droplets of rain. He’s soaked to the bone and still freshly bleeding from his thigh. He neither shivers nor buckles, driven by pure adrenaline. You watch his jaw clench and unclench as your words settle in. He must believe you, at the very least, because he’s not pulling the trigger.

You’re gonna have to remember this face later when the GCPD asks. You try to soak in each detail with the optimism that you will, that you’ll make it out of this alive. You try to be present and not with your stomach that’s grumbling or your brain short-circuiting on too little sleep and too much fear.

You think about what you’re gonna say to Em in two days time; not tomorrow, no, they’d probably tell you to take the day off. She’s going to hear about you being held at gunpoint just days after being offered a job at Wayne Enterprises and you’ll actually be able to laugh when she says “I told you so”. It would be funny, then. In two days time. You’d get to live to see that.

“Take me to him.”

Ghost, you gather, is a dead man. If not him, then you and everyone in the SICU.

You don’t dare speak without being spoken to, even as the elevator ride leaves nothing but labored breathing between you two. It’s a miracle he keeps his gun at his side the whole time, but with his back pressed against a corner, it would take him only a second to put a bullet through your skull if you tried to make a move.

You wonder if the police have arrived yet. What’s going on over the radios? Has all hell broken loose downstairs? What is your captor, Ghost’s executioner, going to bring down upon this hospital when he pulls the trigger? And you, the one who led him to his target... what would that mean for you? When it came to situations like this, you didn’t find people very forgiving.

“Fucking slow...” Your captor hisses near you, eyes glued to the steadily ascending floors to pass the time. “What floor is he on?”

You see the counter tick to 12. “18.”

You’d celebrated too soon. The gun is back, digging into the back of your head now, and one of his hands is gripping your upper arm tight, “When those doors open, you’re gonna walk me to where he’s at. If you try anything, I’m blowin’ your brains out.”

There’s a good chance that he will regardless, but you were being optimistic, remember?

The next six pass by at an excruciatingly slow pace. Your captor’s annoyance is tangible, coating the already bloody air with tension. Your heart hammers angrily. There’s a moment where you think that you might keel over and vomit up all the fear pooling in your belly, wrapping around your hunger and squeezing until there’s no room for food even if you could eat. But your jaw is locked. If it came up, you doubted you’d have the courage to open your mouth for fear your life would end much quicker.

At floor 18, the doors finally part.

You’ve never seen it like this. Half the lights are off, the other half flickering as if struggling to connect to the power. A floor usually bustling with life is completely dead. There are ominous beeps from comms left unattended and machines once in use, now abandoned. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think that everyone on this floor had vanished into thin air.

Your captor shoves you out into the eerie hall while you’re forced to stare forward. You step over scattered files, nearly roll your ankle on a pen that you missed.

“Where the fuck is everybody?” He snarls, as if you and every doctor in this hospital have some kind of hive mind to tap into.

You frantically search with the limited movement his gun at your head gives you, but come up empty. With each room you pass, doors are thrown open with no one inside. You pass by a window and make out a helicopter hovering over the building, flashing its light through. You can’t make out if it’s GCPD or the news.

You’re jolted back to reality when the gun digs painfully into your head again, “You said he was up here.”

“He’s supposed to be. The ER probably alerted them. They must’ve cleared out.”

“Where else would they take him? You said GCPD can’t book him ‘til he’s stable.”

“They might have moved somewhere we wouldn’t know to look,” it’s agony trying to rationalize with someone so keen on killing you while keeping a steady walk, “somewhere they can finish up before the police come looking for you.”

Your captor curses. You can tell he’s starting to feel cornered, and that didn’t spell anything good for you. He couldn’t finish off Ghost like he wanted, but he had a hostage now. You deigned to think of the demands he could make with your life on the line.

Maybe you’d get two days off.

The dark humor isn’t appreciated, even as your mind betrays you with it. Passing by a larger grouping of windows shows the utter chaos beginning to gather outside. There are more helicopters shaking the building, police cars lining the streets below.

Perhaps it’s the fear, but your mind subconsciously drifts. You can’t see much from up here but your eyes still scan for that darkly clad figure. You wonder if he’s gotten those stitches out by now, and if he’s somewhere in the building watching you on security cameras and planning the perfect way to get you out of here alive. You imagine, for your sanity, that he’s somewhere on this floor now. Watching you. Waiting for the moment to strike. You search the shadows for him but come up empty.

“Alright, change of plans.” Your captor announces. Before you can turn to look at him, he’s shoving you hard into a wall and pressing his gun up into the soft flesh of your chin. This close, you can see his eyes speckled with blue every time the light above you flickers on. Blue. You’re looking for him again. “You’re getting me out of here.”

“What about Ghost?”

“Don’t you fucking worry about it. I’ll take care of that later. If you’re good, I might even make it quick.” It being the gun nestled just so, perfect for a swift death.

Oh God, your mother might be watching the news. You’d dropped your phone downstairs after the gunshot. It was probably ringing like crazy. She must be so worried.

And Metropolis would have been so nice. Sure, the rent was higher but it was worth it. And who didn’t leave medical school drowning in student loans? And it was less humid there, more sunny days. You would have better things to worry about, like what you’d say to Superman if you ever got the chance to get his autograph. What would Bruce Wayne say when they found your dead body in a back alley just days after he’d last seen you? What would Em say? Your boss? Your mother?

You don’t understand why he looks so uncomfortable all of a sudden, not until you feel the tears rolling down your cheeks. Fuck. You were crying, too. The adrenaline was wearing off.

Your captor opens his mouth, grabs you by the neck of your scrubs, and is about to yank you back onto your feet when the gun is torn away. You don’t know what it is but there’s a commotion in the dark beside you, a fight with your captor, and you flinch away as bullets fly off all into the ceiling. You hear glass shatter, metal ricocheting. The lights flicker on and off, on and off.

Your body collapses to the floor without his weight supporting you. You’re breathing harder and faster and gulping in air that doesn’t smell so overwhelmingly of blood anymore. You can pick up on something else instead. A fresh wave of rainfall.

Through the tears and lights flashing on and off, on and off, you see him.

He’s fast and heavy. You realize that you’ve never actually seen Batman in action, just photos and blurry videos from afar that hardly did what he left behind justice. You’d seen the gaggles of gang members left hanging by their ankles on streetlights and wondered just how strong a man had to be to do that kind of damage.

Every punch is forceful, personal. It doesn’t take many after the gun is kicked away for him to put your captor to sleep. He falls into a nearby cart and the clatter of metal shakes you, makes you let out just the smallest whimper.

And Batman’s head snaps to you.

He’s crouching before you can register it, a hand on your shoulder. The air displaced around his sudden movement carries the scent of rain and the city. “Hey,” he calls, his voice an octave or so higher than it was on the fire escape, “are you hurt?”

Your arm is probably bruised. The back of your head too, now that you think about it. It doesn’t help that his hand on your shoulder rattles you when you take too long to reply.

Your mouth opens, trying to think of what to say. You croak around his name and cringe at how dry your throat has gotten. Crying and missing dinner would do that, you supposed.

One of your hands reaches out to him and lands on his chest, then weakly falls to his thigh, searching for something warm and human to hold onto. Something other than your scrubs slick with sweat. You can’t even ask for it.

But something clicks in his eyes when the light flickers on. He takes your hand and pulls you—practically dragging you—until your hand is wrapping around his back and buried in his cape. Your other hand follows suit and if you weren’t so panicked, you’d take the time to properly lose your mind when his hand cradles your head to his chest. With the way he’s crouched, you’re shielded from the hallway by the dark expanse of his shoulders.

Your captor’s body is out of sight, and so is the broken glass and the bullet shells and the gun. It’s just you and the Bat. His warm breath, the scent of him along his exposed jaw, the faint beat of his heart beneath his armor. You feel his thumb brush your cheek ever so slightly. He shushes you as you choke on a sob, “I’ve got you. You’re safe. He won’t hurt you again.”

Maybe when all this settles, you’ll believe him. But for now, you hide your face in his neck and he lets you.

You can’t remember the last time someone had carried you. You’re weightless, his arms hooked under your knees and around your back as he rises—slowly, as to not shake you—and begins the trek back to the elevator. His armor is difficult to grasp onto; you struggle as such to find something and seize the back of his neck, finally, fingers pressing into the soft give of his cowl. You feel his head shift above you, eyes weighing on your person, but you keep your head low and tucked.

Blood pounds in your ears. Batman’s hand flexes under your knee. Gravity lowers you 18 flights into the chaos of the ER.

It’s all so sudden. The noise of ten times the people from before forces you further into the calm of Batman’s body. You can pick up on police radio, a chorus of your savior’s name and yours the minute the doors open. Even as the warmth of other bodies begin to surround you, Batman keeps his steady pace well until your foot is bumping a stretcher.

“...hurt anywhere?” A voice distant to your ears asks, and then four more hands are helping you onto the cushion. It takes you a moment to figure out that the question isn’t directed at you.

“Shots were fired, none of them hit.” The deep rumble of Batman’s voice makes you cling to his neck further. When a latex hand takes hold of your wrist, you come to instantly.

The ER is just as crowded as you expected. GCPD and trauma nurses bloat the hallways, stumbling over each other to do their jobs. Two nurses are looking over you and Batman is hovering beside your stretcher, leaning with your hand still cupped around the back of his neck. He doesn’t ask you to let go, doesn’t pull away from you.

“Open wounds on your calf, seemed to have cut a vein. We need to get the glass out.” One nurse tells you.

“Where is he?” A cop appears by Batman’s side, frantic.

“18th floor. Unconscious and armed.” Batman answers.

“Stretch your leg this way, hon.” The other nurse commands, pressing wet cloth to burning skin. Batman moves it for you when you don’t react. The other nurse starts running in the other direction when a new wave of patients enter the room.

A shard catches on your torn flesh just as another cop appears, “We need you out there, Batman. It’s a bloodbath.”

“How many are there?”

“Too many. If they’re not in here and they’re not dead, they’re out there.”

Another shard removed has you flinching into him, drawing his attention away from the officer. “Almost done,” the nurse working at your leg is careful with the last few, “then I can give you something for the bruising on your arm.”

“Batman.” This time, his name is said with urgency. The cop is staring you down. You felt certain that if it wouldn’t be frowned upon, he’d have yanked Batman free of you by now.

Your rational brain was aware that you should let go. You were one person in the midst of tens of them, most worse off than you in every way. He was better off saving lives out there. You were fine. You were... you were physically fine.

And you’d be back to yourself in a few hours, right? You’d be fine.

You don’t realize the warmth of Batman’s hand leaves your knee until it’s curling around the side of your throat. His firm thumb props your chin up until you’re both face to face, until you’re swimming in that blue you’d been searching for. Your lips part; they were just as stunning as they were the first time you’d seen them up close.

The ER is quiet all of a sudden. You swore, even with the tugging in your leg, that you and him were utterly alone.

“I have to go.” He leaves no room for argument, but the openness of his expression shocks you. As if he was asking you. As if he’d stay if you denied him.

It keeps happening like this. Him leaving when he gets too close, you letting him go when it’s never what you want.

But your head nods on its own, assuring that you got the message. All too soon, he’s tugging your hand away and storming out of the ER and back into the streets. One second, his cape is catching in the wind. You watch, blinking for just a second. The next, he’s gone.

It’s enough to awaken you, get your left brain kicking again. You slip your fingers past the nurse’s working to slow the blood flow on your leg and press them into the gauze, stinging wound and all. She stares up at you, startled. You try your best at a smile, “They need you in there. Don’t worry, I’ve got it.”

She only pulls away from you when your hand steadies on the gauze. She starts to tell you how to wrap it, forgetting your position, then thinks better of it and leaves you there.

Besides your calf beginning to throb, it’s a minor cut. Worse than nicking yourself shaving but nothing to cry about. You wrap it like muscle memory. It’s not that bad. You can help while you’re here. No doubt the trauma team is swamped as it is.

But as you slide off the stretcher, the throb burns up your leg and you gasp, a new rush of tears following suit as you collapse back against the cushion. Try as you might, the tears refuse to stop.

It’s not that bad. It’s barely anything. It’s nothing.

It could have been worse. So, so much worse. Maybe that’s why this paralyzes you. You’re watching your colleagues rush by saving lives, there are countless others out in the streets right now giving theirs to stop a senseless war, and you’re standing here shaking because you thought that for just a moment, this is where it all ended for you. A little glass in your leg. A bruise on your arm. What could have been a bullet in your brain.

A pair of cops pass by dragging someone with them. Your captor, conscious and in cuffs, is stumbling between them sporting a black eye that blots up into his hairline and down into his lopsided nose. With the one eye that can open, he looks over at you, just as quickly flinching in the other direction as they bring him out into the rain. You doubted it was guilt that made him look away. Your tears didn’t do shit the first time, why would they now?

But when you cried the first time, he showed up. As if the sky had opened and delivered him to you. Right when you needed him.

You take a few more minutes to breathe through the pain.

You get your two days off.

It’s two days of sitting on the couch, two days of poking at your bruises to feel something other than boredom, two days of phone calls and texts about the bloodiest gang war in Gotham City since Falcone was kingpin. Your captor had been identified and put away in Arkham along with the famed Ghost. If vengeance couldn’t be had in Gotham General, it would be had in the prison yard.

You punctuate your feelings with the sharp flicks and loops of your pen on paper, just thankful the nap you’d gotten in had curbed your anger for the most part, “I said I’m fine.”

“Well, you don’t look fine.” Your mother is only one woman but she suffocates the room with her presence. Your father, on the other hand, has confined himself to the couch with his head in his hands. “Honestly, I don’t know where you get your bullheadedness from.”

You restrain your tongue behind your teeth in fear you might say something that’ll get her even angrier at you, “They checked me over. I’m fine.”

“Yeah, and you’re lucky for that. Did you know the man that held you hostage had a warrant out for his arrest? First-degree murder of a cop! He could’ve killed you too.”

Your mind flashes back to the memory of his gun digging into you. You squint to push it out.

You’re thankful for the silence after that, but only seconds pass before your mother is fussing again, pacing the room as if she might just explode. Your father’s head is now perched on his fist. He makes no move to defend you or her, just stares off into space with a glass-eyed look. “You know what? Pack your things. We’re moving you out of Gotham.”

“Mom, no.”

“Yes. I told you months ago to find a new place, do better for yourself, and then I hear you’re caught in the middle of a gang war—on TV no less—and- no, no. You’re coming to stay with us in Jersey until we can get you a job with our PCM.”

The house in New Jersey that your parents had moved to as soon as you’d graduated was perfect for them. They’d made their life there, had crafted their happy ending away from Gotham. They had expected you to follow, but that had been years ago. You’d hoped those expectations had died along with whatever version of you they’d been holding onto. Clearly not.

God help you. If you could go back in time to last night, you’d cave that fucker’s nose in just for giving your parents the perfect argument to make you go back home. To their home.

You continue signing off paperwork as if you hadn’t even heard her, a skill you’d perfected in your teens when you stayed out too late and courted the city in ways that “just weren’t safe” for a kid your age.

Except this time, you weren’t just being a kid. You had almost lost your life last night.

Your mom is complaining to your dad about you, you can just kind of hear it as you continue to tune them out. You’re just about to cut your vacation short and head to your office for quiet when someone knocks at your front door.

Your mother is the fastest, rushing to the door with all the fury of a woman scorned. She yanks the door open just a fraction and demands that your visitor leave you be. Before you can even think to admonish her, you notice her hand go slack on the doorknob.

The door opens. You see flower petals before you see a face, the vase of flowers in their hands standing tall and wide, so much so that it brushes the door frame on all sides on its journey to your coffee table. When it’s set down before you, finally, you’re greeted by the delivery person and an envelope dangling in your face, your name an uncertain question as they wait for you to accept.

You stare, dumbfounded. You’d already made all the calls, had reassured friends and distant family alike that you were fine and alive and that you’d appreciated the concern. No one had mentioned sending you anything.

You take the card gingerly, ignoring your mother’s curious “who’s it from?” in favor of admiring it. Your name is printed in fine, midnight black calligraphy. Just by turning it to the light, you can tell it was truly handwritten. You poke beneath the seal flap until it gives way. A neat card sits inside.

Some color to resemble sunshine, something we Gothamites don’t get enough of. Hopefully you’re not deathly allergic like me.

Take care.

Sincerely,

The office of...

“...Bruce Wayne.” Your mother finishes over your shoulder. The disbelief is clear in her tone. For once, she has nothing to say.

The delivery person, who you’d thought would have made a break for it already, hovers in your living room with a wobbly smile. You wonder if it’s their first delivery. You couldn’t imagine the pressure. Your turbulent expression must not help because they’re stumbling out of there the minute you make eye contact.

“What’s Bruce Wayne sending you flowers for?” For the first time, your father chimes in, examining the bouquet with a critical eye, as if he could tell the difference between a rose and a peony.

You stare down the card once more, touch delighting in the feel of the high-quality card stock and the smell of flowers clinging to it still. The bush of orange and yellow is refreshing with all the rain. You notice that the writing inside the card is handwritten too. Had... Bruce really written it himself?

You imagined Bruce Wayne, the Bruce whose ludicrous job offer you’d rejected days ago, personally writing you a get-well soon card... on top of a bouquet of the most wonderful smelling flowers you’ve ever seen.

You couldn’t imagine why for the life of you. Was it sincere? Was it mocking, poking at your brush with death days after claiming you would rather remain here than up in the safety of his tower? Had he even known it’d been sent, or had a personal assistant called it in? Why would he care? Why do you care? You’d almost died.

“Where are you going?” Your mother’s voice feels far away, underwater when you come to. You’re standing at the front door all of a sudden, bag slung over your shoulder and card gripped in hand. Your parents are staring at you like you’ve grown a second head. Or a third, more grotesque than the last.

You haven’t explained anything and right now, you really don’t care to, “Call me when you guys make it home. Love you.”

taglist: @yikes-buddy @alexxavicry @theclassicvinyldragon @moonlightreader649 @geekyfer @thescarletfang @navs-bhat @maryx0107 @vainillasmil157 @moony-toasts @sketchiethebear @trawberry-fire @hangmanscoming @agent-scorpio

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne scenarios #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne fic #bruce wayne angst #bruce wayne #batman x reader #batman scenarios #batman imagine #batman fic #batman angst #the batman #battinson x reader #battinson #dc #mjwrites

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imnotasuperhero · 1 year

Text

Look into my eyes (search your soul)

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: Your love for Wanda could make you go the distance and more, just to see her happy.

A/N: Here’s me with a brand new story. This is planned to be a multi chapter, and I know I should have everything written before posting but i need the validation, okay? Hope this is enough to hook you up and you enjoy this ride.

Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII, Part VIII, Part IX

Any and every word you were about to say flew your mind at the body at the other side of the door that just opened.Granted, your attraction to the redhead wasn't new. But just seeing her in that unique glow that pregnancy gives her was something that never failed to take your breath away.

"Hi," Wanda smiled something warm and your inside felt burning. "Didn't know you were coming."

"Neither did I." You smiled timidly. Truth is, you didn't even think about coming here when you left your client's house.

"Come on in," Wanda stepped aside as you entered the threshold. "How are you?"

Following her to the kitchen, you sat on the stool as Wanda umpromtedly filled the kettle with water, placing it on the stove. Eyes never looking away from her every little movement, as if a hypnotic spell was cast over you.

"I've been better," you smiled tiredly.

"At least tell me you got to sleep last night?" Wanda took your hand over the kitchen island.You felt your fingers burning as your thumb smoothed away the cute frown that formed between those green eyes.

"Don't worry, it's almost finished." You bit the inside of your cheek as your fingers ran the contour of her left side, caressing her warm cheek. "I did sleep," you sighed as your hand found its previous place.

"Good, I don't want you to get sick over work."

"Hey! I'm not that bad of a patient," you stuck your tongue out, earning a giggle from the woman in front of you.

"I never said you were," Wanda smiled as she turned around.

After both teas were ready, you moved to the couch in the living room, talking about everything and nothing, enjoying each other's company.

But said calmness was cut short when a guttural scream filled the room. Wanda's mug shattered as it collided against the wooden floor. Your senses woke up all at once as your mind ran a mile an hour.

Scrutinizing her over, your breath stopped at the wetness on Wanda's lap. "Wands,"The redhead looked down just to meet your eyes, after. Panic was written all over her face.

"It's too soon,"

"Shh, it's gonna be okay," you kissed her forehead before picking her up in your arms, walking fast toward your car.

"Y/N, please." Wanda grabbed your hands after you placed her on the co-pilot seat.

"It's gonna be okay," you smiled confidently, squeezing her hands. "Imma get the babies bag, okay? Just keep breathing, baby. You three will be just fine," you promised before hurrying back inside, running to the nursery.

The whole ride to the hospital had you multitasking as one hand was placed on the steering wheels, your right hand was clutched in Wanda's as she squeezed it to no end and your focus was divided between cooing Wanda, paying attention to the road and trying multiple times to reach Vision -thanks to technology for inventing the free hands. But the last one was to no avail.

"Are you the mom?" The gentle nurse smiled at you, freezing your mind.

"N-No," you frowned, seeing how the doctors hurried Wanda deeper into the building.

"Y/N, don't leave me," Wanda looked over her shoulder with pleading eyes, and you swore your heart did a somersault.

"I'm right here," you hurried yourself to her side, taking her hand in yours.

You tried one last time to get a hold of Vision, but the call was sent straight to voicemail. Switching through apps, you sent a quick message to Natasha, letting her know of the birthing of the twins and to tell the others, before you prepared yourself to get into the operating room.

Walking timidly to Wanda's side, your heart broke at the look of utter panic in those beautiful green orbs.

"You will be okay," you smiled warmly as you leaned down to kiss her sweaty head.The pause that settled between you sent shivers down your spine.

"If anything happens to me-"

"Nothing will happen, honey." You promised the redhead, trying to convey in those words all the love and trust you held for her. "You're gonna get out of here with your babies."

"I love you," Wanda groaned as another contraction took over her.

"I love you too," 'more than what a friend should.' You smiled. "Now let's get those babies."

Nothing had prepared you for what you witnessed that day. And you felt honored Wanda trusted you enough to let you see her. From now on, you'd never doubt her -not that you ever did- for your admiration for her grew exponentially at the work she's performed.

The tears finally ran down your cheek as your eyes landed on the bundle of joy being placed in Wanda's arms. Rosy cheeks and swollen face taking your breath away.

"Thank you," you looked at Wanda, seeing her too immersed in her baby to even pay attention to you. "He's beautiful."

Before you could get a response out, another contraction took over her, signaling she should birth her second child.

And the result was nothing different than the previous one.The warm feeling that settled inside you got you clutching onto Wanda's hand, not knowing if the reassurance was for you or her.

Once Wanda and the babies were moved to a private room, you looked up at the knock on the door. Adjusting Billy in your arms, you walked towards the door, smiling when you saw the woman behind the huge teddy bear on the other side.

“Oh, my. Look at him,” Natasha coed as she caressed the baby’s forehead with her index.

“There you are,” the redhead walked towards a tired Wanda, a lazy smile displayed on her lips.

“Hi, Nat.”

“They’re beautiful,” she repeated, looking at the sleeping baby by Wanda’s bed. “What are their names?”

“This one’s Tommy,” Wanda smiled brightly at the sight of her son. “And that one is Billy,” she introduced calmly, looking at you two. You felt your body on fire at the look on Wanda’s face. Granted, you couldn’t put your finger on what it meant, but you surely knew it was something you’d never seen before.

Placing Billy on the hospital crib beside his brother, you then moved to sit beside Wanda, squeezing her hand in a silent gesture.

“We decided I’d be the one coming to not overwhelm you,” Natasha spoke quietly, afraid the twins would fuss at any sound. “The big teddy is from all of us,” she explained, looking at the plushy animal sitting atop Wanda’s bag.

“It’s beautiful, thank you.” Wanda nodded smiling.

After a few more minutes of you three chatting - mostly you and Natasha, as Wanda tried too hard not to snooze off, Nat said her goodbyes and you walked her outside the room.

“He’s on his way,” Natasha frowned with pitiness.

“About time he picked up,” you sighed leaning against the wall.

“That’s not your family, Y/N,”

“You think I don’t know that?” you retorted, angriness showing in your voice. “I just…”

“I know,” Nat hugged you tightly.

“I’ll stay till he comes.”

“I’ll be home if you need anything. Yes?”

“Thank you,” you smiled her goodbye before taking a moment to just, breathe.The whole rollercoaster you endured drained you, even more so knowing Vision was on his way to his family, and you’d be sent to your lonely home. Daydreaming of Wanda and what it involved.

Once you calmed down, you entered the room just to find her with her heavy eyes, fighting the sleep she so much needed.

“You should rest,” you looked over the twins, smiling warmly before you sat in the chair.

“Lay with me?” Wanda pleaded. And you knew this was a dangerous game, but you couldn’t find it in you to deny her. So you complied, being careful not to hurt her.

“Better now?” You joked as you watched how she moved closer to you.

“Yes,” she looked up at your eyes. “Thank you,” she spoke truthfully.

“It’s nothing,” you kissed her forehead. “Now sleep. I’m here.” You just prayed Wanda couldn’t hear your erratic heartbeat, for every cell in your body vibrated at the close proximity of the body in your arms.

It was close to midnight when you heard someone enter the room, too busy to even be gentle with their movements.

“This is just great,” Vision growled as his eyes burned a hole in your head.

“Lower your volume,” you stirred awake, carefully getting up from the bed to not wake up a fast-asleep Wanda.

“Thanks for the help, but you can go now.” The blonde spit out venomously.And that just served to boil up your blood, waking up the courage inside you.

“I’ll go, but you should be more caring towards them,” you spoke quietly as you picked up your jacket. “Next time instead of getting drunk in a bar, pay attention to your phone.” You were stopped suddenly by a hard grip on your upper arm. Looking up, you sent daggers to the man holding you in place.

“Watch your words.”Freeing from his grip, you laughed something wicked.

“Watch your family,” you barked, trying your best not to cause a scene and wake up the sleeping redhead as you walked away.

As always, comments and reblogs are appreciated :)

Taglist: @summergeezburr @wandabear @xxxtwilightaxelxxx (if you want to be added, let me know!)

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff #my writing #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda x you #wanda maximoff x you #wanda x y/n

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komitomi · 1 year

Text

Fateful Encounter. // Prologue.

Neteyam × F!reader

based on this idea || chapter i || chapter ii || chapter iii || chapter iv || chapter v

Synopsis: You and few others humans were sent on a mission to find Jake sully and get his help, and possibly resolve the issues between navi and the humans, which were caused by the unethical procedures of the RDA. Will you be successful?

A/N: neteyam has won the poll so he will be chosen as the main lead, this will be a "x reader" fanfic, kinda follows avatar 1 plotline except it's reader and neteyam instead of jake and neytiri, RDA is obvs the villain, idk how many chapters this story will have but it's gonna be a ride for sure, so buckle up peeps!

After the first great war between the Na'vi and the Humans, conflicts rose back on Earth as the unethical procedures issued by RDA on Pandora got leaked to the public eye.

There were many protests, petitions signed to stop RDA's project, humans sympathizing with the Na'vi, they didn't want the same fate as Earth and Humans occur to Pandora and it's living beings.

This led to a new organization being formed, now competing with RDA, called Space and Earth Resources Organization, SERO for short, they had the same idea as RDA but much less violence and battle equipment involved.

Y/n was the daughter of the scientist who worked in SERO, her avatar body was in progress, as the organization decided she and few others will be sent out to Pandora, they all will be sent to separate locations to look for jake sully.

Ever since she was young she had always dreamt of being a scientist, her curiosity to learn and obtain knowledge was one of the main driving reasons, but on a unfortunate night, her mom was killed in a gang encounter, they were unable to defend themselves having no fighting skill or a gun, after that she started training, she wasn't officially a soldier but trained just like them, she had both decent battle skills and knowledge which is what made SERO become interested in her.

Obviously she isn't perfect since she was only 18, but she was able to stand out, showing mediocre but consistent results.

As technology further advanced back on Earth, SERO accidentally figured out a way to travel faster to Pandora, it used to take 5 years, but now it only takes 3, due to the flaws of RDA's operation in the past, when SERO first sent out the very first batch of scientists they implemented a information system, where any information can travel faster through a communication device, it takes 2 - 3 days, but that's still better than 3 years of delayed information.

Their main goal was to reestablish good relations between the Humans and the Na'vi, while also simultaneously contributing to Earth, SERO has managed to bring back few of the extinct flora and fauna from DNA cloning, which resulted in positive reactions from both the Humans and Government.

This all led to the moment now, you said your goodbyes to your family, your dad and your siblings, giving them a hug, “I'll miss you, child.” your dad says while giving you a headpat and you pout “Dad! I'm not a child anymore.” you say, he smiles at you before reaching for something in his bag.

He pulls out a medium size box before handing it to you, you open it and gasp, it was filled with few polaroid photos of your family and a necklace of your mom.

“I know you'll miss us too even if you don't say it, so we decided to send you a few things that will remind you of us.” he says and you smile, tears filling your eyes and your dad looks at you with a soft smile before pulling you in for a hug.

“Thank you dad.” you say while sniffing and crying onto his shoulders, your siblings also start crying and you all have a nice family hug before you had to say your final goodbye for now.

“Goodbye everyone, I'll keep you updated through the communication device.” you say the last part to your dad who nods at you.

You look back once again before boarding onto the spaceship, “miss, come this way” you heard a a voice say, you follow them, leading you into a room where you see bunch of other humans, you go up to them and introduce yourself, they do the same.

3 years later

you had finally arrived to pandora after 3 whole years, your spaceship landed in a beautiful spot, it was so vibrant and filled with various plants, SERO decided to build around the flora on pandora rather than destroying it, which led to this vibrant and peaceful looking place, you put on your oxygen mask before stepping down from the spaceship and taking in the beauty of the planet.

“yo! welcome.” you and your group were greeted by this friendly lady with a smile, she looked like she was in her 30s, you greet her back with a smile too.

“come ill take you guys to the scientist camp, its not far from here but it is quite the trek.” she says brightly and you guys nod before following her, you gasp as you notice creatures of pandora flying over the area, they were so mystical, “btw i never told you my name, its Aria, Aria stone.” the lady says and you smile at her “nice to meet you miss stone.” you tell her.

“the animals here seem comfortable with flying over this area.” you point out which makes Aria look over to you “you noticed huh? we tried our best to build around the flora and not destroy the homes of many creatures living here, it was difficult at first but we figured it out and the animals dont mind us existing here, rather, it seems they actually like us but we cant get too cocky now.” she says with a wink which makes you chuckle.

you guys finally reach the scientist camp, you guys go inside and remove your oxygen masks as the air inside is machine based and pumps oxygen needed for humans, as you guys go further inside you notice a bunch of avatars sleeping with masks as few humans scurry around them.

“those are your vessels.” Aria says noticing you studying them, you look at her and give her a nod “they we're originally stored in liquid to preserve their body but since you guys are here, we bought them out, soooo are you guys ready?” she asks and you all say yes in unison, “perfect, but let's go freshen up first” she says and you guys scurry off to freshen up and come back in a few minutes, bodies more relaxed than before and faces glowing brighter, she then leads you guys to the room full of link units.

“this is where you'll be connecting with your avatar, you'll be training a bit in your avatar body, learning to hunt and survive how the na'vi people do, but based on the locations you're sent to, things will vary, but these are the basics” Aria finishes and leads everyone to their respective link unit, you lay down, excited for what to come, she closes the top and you close your eyes.

Your mind goes blank as you enter into a different world, visions of tree roots and everything passing by before you open your eyes in your avatar.

“hello? can you hear me?” you are questioned as soon as they saw you open your eyes, and you nod, getting up slowly, moving your hands and legs, wiggling your fingers and toes. “Motor control looks perfect, can you stand up?” they ask and you nod before following what they said, as soon as you stand up you notice how tiny they are next to you, you take some time to balance yourself and adjust to your new body.

“are you able to walk?” they ask and you try doing so, it takes a couple of steps before you can get used to the body and start walking normally, “everything looks perfect miss stone.” they talk into the communication device.

You are examining your body, you noticed that your senses have heightened than your normal human body, you're able to see, feel and hear better, “alright miss, everything looks perfect, you can change before going outside.” they say and hand you over human like clothes that were made to fit the Na'vi body.

You quickly remove the patient typa gown before getting in your normal clothes making your way to the exit, you open the door and close it before stepping outside to a beautiful garden with crops and a volleyball court made from tree branches and roots.

You breathe in the fresh air on Pandora, feeling euphoric, oxygen on earth isn't that great, you can't go outside without a mask sometimes due to the heavy pollution but here, the air is so fresh.

You go further into the garden and run around, feeling excited, the rest of your avatar peers are in their own world too, taking in Pandora's air and beauty, wishing earth could be like this too.

“Alright everyone! gather up here.” you hear a familiar voice say and you turn the direction where it's coming from, it's Miss stone, in her avatar form, her avatar form is just as beautiful as her, you quickly join the crowd who are gathering up in front of her.

She clears are throat before proceeding.

“I think we're all aware of what mission we're here for, is to fix the relations between the Humans and the Na'vi, and coming to an agreement with them, we have already managed to convince few of the clans taking help from the humans who were allowed to stay here, who partnered with us to this cause, but the main issue at hand is RDA.”

“I'm sure everyone is aware that RDA doesn't have good intentions anymore, they used to, they are trying to find a man named jake sully through a seperate mission and god knows what will happen if they do but before they find him, we need to find him first and ask his help, RDA is continuously destroying the neutral stance other clans have of Humans and robbing this planet, our mission is to prevent that.” she continues on with a serious face.

“For that, we will need to train first, learn to hunt and live the Na'vi way, I'm sure you guys have learnt the language in the past 3 years, but if you didn't fully grasp it you can still do it now, and after that you will be sent out to find Jake sully, RDA still doesn't seem to have successfully found him, he apparently left the original clan, and we have to find him first and fast, our team have been trying their best to distract them from their mission and it's working, you will be training for 3 months before being sent out, individually or just 2 people.” she says, the last sentence makes the other gasps

“That's too dangerous! It's better to go in groups.” one of the people say and Aria sighs “I know it is, but sending in groups will cause panic and confusion, other clans do not know that we exist and might confuse us for RDA and attack us, which we don't want to happen, and we have to be as less threatening as possible, if we go in groups then it's like walking right into the fire.” she says while looking down, the avatars are still not okay with this but everyone can understand what Aria means.

Silence falls as everyone is looking down before y/n speaks out “i'm ready.” she says making everyone look at her in shock but after seeing her serious face, everyone suddenly gets the motivation and encouraged by the aura, they all look up to Aria and say “We are too.” with pride lacing in their voice.

Aria gives a bright smile before nodding her head in acknowledgement.

“Let the training commence.”

#avatar #x reader #avatar 2 #avatar: twow #neteyam sully #neteyam #neteyam x reader #neteyam x you #neteyam fluff #neteyam smut #avatar fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #prologue #more to come soon #avatar smut #avatar x you #avatar x reader

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eggluverz · 9 months

Text

— MASTERLIST

hi there and welcome to my blog!! i’m sof and here are my writings :> hope u enjoy ur stay !!

DAN HENG

i. operation: dog food

modern au. in which you are trying to save a stray dog and dan heng sees you lurking around front of his door.

ii. the interns

modern au. in which you view your internship as a competition and dan heng is simply attracted to all your hard work and determination.

iii. hot and cold

roommate au. in which dan heng runs hot and blasts the air conditioner to keep cool, and you feel like you’re living in the arctic.

iv. starry night bakery

bakery au. in which the cute baker down the street catches your eye and you decide to become a regular to keep seeing him.

v. blind dates & hidden feelings

march 7th sets you up on a blind date with gepard and dan heng finds himself feeling jealous when he sees the two of you on a date together.

vi. we really were timeless

dan heng does not want to remember his previous reincarnation, but there is one part he doesn't want to let go of forever— you.

vii. like me better?

you want to braid dan heng's hair and he wonders if you like him better in this form.

viii. something shiny this way comes

dan heng wants to face part of his past by walking around xianzhou luofu with you, but he freaks out when he notices you are no longer by his side.

ix. after all this time

you were the great imbibitor lunae's disciple. he trusted you with his life and you with his. but when the time came, you weren't able to save him. what happens when you run into his reincarnation years down the line?

x. no time to waste

school au. dan heng's a workaholic, you're the only one who can get him to look away from his work, and jing yuan thinks the two of you just need to get together.

xi. should've been there

you and dan heng are exploring the xianzhou luofu and you get surrounded by a group of assassins who want to hurt you to get to dan heng. you decide to teach them not to mess with your partner.

xii. stars fading but i linger on, dear

dan heng has been having dreams about you. they started off good—like a fairytale even. but soon he’s been getting the feeling something is wrong. you’re trapped and alone and can’t escape. dan heng wonders if his dreams are telling him something. and if they are…what is there for him to do?

xiii. dragons and daffodils

you impulsively walk into a tattoo shop, see a gorgeous man with blue eyes and a dragon tattoo along his arm, and immediately decide you need to get a tattoo from him now.

xiv. light in the darkness

dan heng has an extreme fear of the dark and the astral express experiences a power outage. thankfully, you are there to help him through this.

xv. gifts from the heart

dan heng sees a plushie of him at a vendor booth at belobog. he doesn’t understand that craze of “cute” things himself but perhaps you will like the gift.

BLADE

i. not a weirdo stalker [smau]

modern au. in which you are a college student trying to vibe and blade thinks you are crazy obsessed with him.

ii. everything i need

idol au. in which you’re feeling down about not seeing your boyfriend in a few months and blade takes time out of his busy tour schedule to surprise you.

JING YUAN

i. taste of the universe

in which jing yuan occasionally gets tired of being general and you are there to cheer him up.

ii. lady fu’s matchmaking service

fu xuan thinks the lonely general needs to go on a date, and you are just the person she wants to set him up with.

iii. the general needs a break… and a mooncake

the general is drowning in work, and the mid-autumn festival is the perfect excuse to take a break.

DAN FENG

i. a stare worth a thousand words

you and dan feng were just friends. close comrades who challenged each other. but you were starting to suspect that just friends don't stare at each other like this...

HEADCANONS

❀ dan heng x f!reader college au

❀ halloween with dan heng, jing yuan, and blade

— tags + info

❀ request guidelines

# ❣️ rambles: for when i like to blah blah blah

# 💌 asks: received in my ask box <3

# 📚 fic recs: works i’ve read and enjoyed!

member of @masked-fools 🫶

#masterlist #if u see this dan heng luvs u<3

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angie-likes-to-art · 6 months

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Fic Recs (Stranger Things Edition III)

I wanted to share my favorite series/ one shots while I work on my own, please show some love to these amazing writers! All fics are fem!reader can you tell I'm procrastinating homework?

Marvel Fic Recs One Two Three Harry Potter Fic Recs One Two Three Stranger Things Fic Recs One Two Specific Characters Tangerine Masterlist

Burn, Baby, Burn by @billysbabyy (18+ Only)

Pairing: Asshole King!Steve Harrington x Reader Summary: “Show him that you might be something different. Something exciting.”

The Top of My List by @herstarburststories

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader Summary: “As senior year comes to an end, Steve Harrington has a list of what he wants to accomplish before graduating. Those things include you.”

Heat of the Moment by @jomgiiu

Pairing: King!Steve Harrington x Reader Summary: “The king of Hawkins high, Steve Harrington asks you out on a date but not for the reason you think. After that night, you learn who the real Steve Harrington is.. or so you thought.

Dial-a-Thrill by @bimbobaggins69 (18+ Only)

Pairing: Phone sex operator!Eddie Munson x Reader Summary: “you and your ex broke up more than five months ago and you’ve refused to start dating again, even the thought of a one night stand puts a bad taste in your mouth but on a lonely night something you thought you’d never be desperate enough to do, becomes as tempting as ever.”

Single Thread by @headkiss

Pairing: Spider-Man!Steve Harrington x Reader Summary: “steve has a big secret and convinces himself he needs to stay away from you to keep you safe. that’s tough to do when you’re his neighbour.”

Rude Boy by @loveshotzz (18+ Only)

Pairing: fboy!Eddie Munson x Reader Summary: “Alone in a basement at Reefer Rick’s party, you finally catch Eddie’s attention.”

Bad Idea by @lunarzstarz (18+ Only)

Pairing: fuckboy!Eddie Munson x Virgin!Reader Summary: “Not wanting to leave for college with your virginity still intact, you turn to your last resort that you know can only end terribly…”

Eyes Up Here by @sammy-is-not-smiley

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader Summary: “Eddie notices you struggle to look him in the eyes... and works to fix that.”

Invisible String by @supernovafics

Pairing: College!Steve Harrington x Reader Summary: “in which a plethora of coincidences keep pushing you and steve toward each other and you kind of hate it”

Are You Leaving? by @fluffansmut-old

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader Summary: “After your first night with Eddie, he thinks that he’s supposed to leave unnoticed, but you change his mind. ”

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cazzam · 1 year

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THE NEW AND IMPROVED CASSANDRA CAIN READING GUIDE

Cassandra Cain is the daughter of assassins David Cain and Sandra Wu-San (better known as Lady Shiva), and was raised by Cain. She is an expert hand-to-hand combatant, and able to read body language to the point of interpreting complex thoughts, but learning to communicate better through speech and text. She has operated as a vigilante under the names of Batgirl, Kasumi, Black Bat, and Orphan, and is currently sharing the title of Batgirl with Stephanie Brown and Barbara Gordon.

Basic Reading

Batgirl (2000)

Batman: Gates of Gotham (2011)

Detective Comics (2016) #934-987

Batman and the Outsiders (2019)

Batgirls (2021)

Spirit World (2023)

Birds of Prey (2023)

Cassandra's major appearances are listed in chronological order (mostly) under the cut. My favorites are bolded.

No Man's Land

All issues collected in Batman: No Man's Land (2011) vol. 2-4. I recommend reading the entire event.

Batman (1940) #567 [first appearance]

Detective Comics (1937) #734

Batman: Legends of the Dark Knight #120 [Cassandra takes up Batgirl mantle]

Azrael: Agent of the Bat #56-57

Batman (1940) #569

The Batman Chronicles #18

Azrael: Agent of the Bat #60-61

Robin (1993) #73

As Batgirl

Issues that are part of events may be confusing out of context.

Batman: Gotham Knights #2, 5

Batman: Gotham City Secret Files and Origins [first story]

Batgirl (2000) #1-2

Young Justice (1998) #21

Batgirl (2000) #3-11, 12 [Officer Down start]

Birds of Prey (1999) #27

Catwoman (1993) #90 [Officer Down end]

Batgirl (2000) Annual #1, #13-19

Harley Quinn (2000) #10

Robin (1993) #88 [first meeting with Stephanie Brown]

Batgirl (2000) #20, 21 [Joker: Last Laugh start]

Joker: Last Laugh #3

Supergirl (1996) #63 [transphobia cw, Joker: Last Laugh end]

DC First: Batgirl/Joker

Batgirl (2000) #22-23, 24 [Bruce Wayne: Murderer? / Fugitive start]

Robin (1993) #98

Batgirl (2000) #25-29

Batman (1940) #605 [Bruce Wayne: Murderer? / Fugitive end]

Batgirl: Secret Files and Origins

Batgirl (2000) #30-32

Batman: Gotham Knights #33, 35

Batgirl (2000) #33-38

Batman: Family #7

Detective Comics (1937) #782 [backup], 790

Nightwing (1996) #81

Superboy (1994) #85 [first meeting with Kon-El/Conner Kent]

Batgirl (2000) #39-44

Batman: Gotham Knights #42, 45-46, 48-49

Robin (1993) #119

Batgirl (2000) #45-47

Superman/Batman #5

Batgirl (2000) #48-50

Birds of Prey (1999) #61, 63

Batgirl (2000) #51-53

Solo #10 [third story]

Detective Comics (1937) #796 [backup]

Robin (1993) #127-128

Batgirl (2000) #54

War Games

All issues collected in Batman: War Games (2015). I don't recommend reading the entire event.

Detective Comics (1937) #797

Batman: Legends of the Dark Knight #182

Nightwing (1996) #96

Batgirl (2000) #55

Batman (1940) #631

Batgirl (2000) #56

Nightwing (1996) #98

Batgirl (2000) #57

Batgirl in Bludhaven

Robin (1993) #132 [Fresh Blood start]

Batgirl (2000) #58

Robin (1993) #133

Batgirl (2000) #59 [Fresh Blood end]

Batman Allies: Secret Files and Origins 2005 [third story]

Batgirl (2000) #60-73

With the League of Assassins and Deathstroke

I don't recommend reading anything in this section except Batgirl (2008) #6.

Robin (1993) #148-151, 161-162

Supergirl (2005) #14

World War III #2

Teen Titans (2003) #43-46

Batman and the Outsiders (2007)

Batgirl (2008) [recap of this era. Bruce adopts Cassandra]

As Black Bat

Battle for the Cowl: The Network

Batgirl (2009) #1 [Cassandra gives Batgirl mantle to Stephanie]

Red Robin #17

Batman Incorporated (2011) #6

Red Robin #25

Batman: Gates of Gotham

As Orphan

The New 52 reboot changed Cassandra’s origins, personality, and relationships with other characters. Rebirth was a soft reboot that kept New 52 canon but brought back elements from the previous continuity.

Batman and Robin Eternal #1-9, 11-14, 17-26 [New 52]

Detective Comics (2016) #934-940 [Rebirth]

Batman (2016) #7 [Night of the Monster Men start]

Nightwing (2016) #5

Detective Comics (2016) #941

Batman (2016) #8

Nightwing (2016) #6

Detective Comics (2016) #942 [Night of the Monster Men end], 943-962

Red Hood and the Outlaws (2016) #15

Detective Comics (2016) #963-964

Batgirl and the Birds of Prey #15-17

Detective Comics (2016) #965-981, 983-987

Batman and the Outsiders (2019)

DC: The Doomed and the Damned [seventh story]

Batman: The Joker War Zone [second story]

Batman (2016) #104

Return of Batgirl

The Infinite Frontier reboot considers all past continuities canon.

Infinite Frontier #0

Batman Secret Files: The Signal

Batman: Urban Legends #3, 5, 7, 8, 10, 14

The Joker (2021) #3-4, 7, 11-12, 15

Detective Comics (2016) #1038 [backup], 1049, 1052, 1057

Batman (2016) #112 [main], 115-116 [backups]

Nightwing (2016) #85-86

Batman (2016) #117 [backup]

Batgirls #1-6

Task Force Z #8

DC Pride: Tim Drake Special

Robin (2021) #15

Detective Comics (2016) #1061

Batgirls #7

Catwoman (2018) #45

Batgirls #8-12

Batman One Bad Day: Two-Face

Tim Drake: Robin #4

Batgirls Annual 2022, #13-19

Lazarus Planet: Dark Fate [fourth story]

Spirit World (2023)

Birds of Prey (2023) #1- [ongoing]

Detective Comics (2016) #1084 [backup]

Other Appearances

Ghost/Batgirl [Dark Horse Comics crossover]

Batman: Outlaws #2

Batman: City of Light [not recommended]

Justice League Elite [as Kasumi]

Wonder Woman (2006) #600 [second story]

Batgirl (2016) #50 [third story]

DC Festival of Heroes [first story]

Truth & Justice #6 [#16-18 digital first]

Alternate Universes

Tiny Titans #33, 39, 43, 45

Batgirl: Futures End

Convergence: Batgirl

Harley Quinn and the Birds of Prey (2020)

DCeased: Unkillables / Dead Planet #5 / War of the Undead Gods

Shadow of the Batgirl [YA graphic novel]

Dark Knights: Death Metal Robin King [backup]

Future State: The Next Batman #2, 4 [second stories]

Batman: Wayne Family Adventures [webtoon]

DC vs. Vampires

Dark Knights of Steel #9

Thanks for reading! If you have any questions, feel free to ask.

Last updated: April 23, 2024

#dcedit #comicedit #cassandra cain #batgirl #batgirls #wayne family adventures #batgirl 2000 #black bat #orphan #reading guide #reading list #reading order #batman

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goodwhump-temp · 10 months

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Jake Peralta Whump | Brooklyn 99

1x01 Pilot - Manhandled, thrown, held at gunpoint 1x02 The Tagger - Career in jeopardy/threatened 1x03 The Slump - Really bad day, "cursed" 1x04 M.E. Time - Squeamish 1x05 The Vulture - Angry, spanked twice 1x06 Halloween - Falls from the ceiling, concussion, falls into Terrys arms, handcuffed, painfully slams onto table 1x07 48 Hours - Exhausted 1x08 Old School - Very hungover, aches/pain, reprimanded 1x09 Sals Pizza - Punched, manhandled, talks about childhood trauma 1x10 Thanksgiving - Talks about sad childhood x2, manhandled, choked 1x11 Christmas - Santa fight, held at gunpoint 1x12 Pontiac Bandit - Exhausted 1x14 Ebony Falcon - Chest bumped to the ground, worried, punched multiple times, numb arms 1x15 Operation Broken Feather - Denial, feels betrayed 1x17 Full Boyle - Pepper sprayed 1x18 The Apartment - Daddy issues, feels doomed from eventual homelessness 1x19 Tactical Village - Jealous, heartbroken 1x21 Unsolvable - Very sleep deprived, depressed/heartbroken, drunk 1x22 Charges and Specs - Very drunk, reprimanded, fired

2x01 Undercover - Picked up/arrested, punched, balls knee'd, cuts burn/pain, held at gunpoint, bummed 2x02 Chocolate Milk - Head manhandled, back issues from Terrys 'body slam,' exhausted x2, feelings hurt, tortured (forced to eat carrots) 2x03 The JimmyJab Games - Attacked by fire hydrants, still heartbroken 2x04 Halloween II - Robbed by bears, falls, hurt by barbedwire, arrested 2x05 The Mole - Feels betrayed, exhausted, slapped 2x06 Jake and Sophia - Hurts his hand 2x07 Lockdown - Passes out (flashback) 2x09 The Road Trip - Slapped 2x10 The Pontiac Bandit Returns - Daddy issues, gut punched 2x11 Stakeout - Punched 2x13 Payback - Exhausted, collapse, numb, sad 2x14 The Defense Rests - Heartbroken/depressed 2x15 Windbreaker City - Heartbroken/depressed, obsessive 2x17 The Boyle-Linetti Wedding - Finger pain, hearbroken 2x18 Captain Peralta - Major daddy issues, major denial, abandoned, feels hurt, confrontation 2x19 Sabotage - Suspended, feels betrayed, almost hit by a truck, held at gunpoint, kidnapped, restrained, gagged, life threatened, trust rooted daddy issues 2x20 AC_DC - Painful fall, limping the whole episode, cracked ribs/broken toes/thumb fractured, hit by box, extreme pain, addicted to work, hit by a car, hospitalized 2x21 Det. Dave Majors - Drinks really strong drink, annoyed, nervous, hurts his fingers, goat jumpscare

3x01 New Captain - Punched x3, briefly sad 3x05 Halloween III - Witch jumpscare, exhausted, throws up x2 3x06 Into The Woods - Falls, surrounded by poison ivy 3x09 The Swedes - Annoyed the whole episode, disgusted, briefly held at gunpoint 3x10 Yippie Kayak - Diehard situation, punched unconscious, hostage/restrained, headache, held at gunpoint, checked out by EMTs 3x11 Hostage Situation - Handcuffed/betrayed, daddy issues !??! 3x12 9 Days - Has Mumps, constant pain, drunk from cold medicine, delerious, mump painfully poked multiple times 3x14 Karen Peralta - Slams into multiple things, falls, major daddy issues, angry 3x15 The 9-8 - (Making Boyle jealous), uncomfortable between friends, punched, nards kicked, pain, tackled 3x16 House Mouses - Flattened by Scully, knocked unconscious, restrained 3x17 Adrian Pimento - Knife to throat/restrained, jumpscared, daddy issues, talks about therapy, held at gunpoint 3x19 Terry Kittens - Daddy issues, screaming scared, sleep deprived 3x21 Maximum Security - Worried, beaten up 3x22 The Bureau - Exhausted (1 pullup) 3x23 Greg and Larry - In danger, life threatened

4x01 Coral Palms, Pt.1 - Depressed, Holt jumpscare, hit by gokart, weird wrist, scared of snakes, tackled, reprimanded (redepressed) 4x02 Coral Palms, Pt.2 - Punched multiple times, headlocked 4x03 Coral Palms, Pt.3 - Falls over fence, calf scratched, queasy/gagging, (+great Holt bonding), throat punched, held at gunpoint, shot 4x04 The Night Shift - Crutches, hair intervention, picked up by Terry, limping, pain, falls over fence 4x05 Halloween IV - Terry jumpscare overreaction, betrayed 4x06 Monster in the Closet - Falls through roof 4x08 Skyfire Cycle - Relived trauma pantsing people 4x09 The Overmining - Angry 4x10 Captain Latvia - Cut palm (bleeding), thrown against a wall, unconscious 4x12 The Fugitive, Pt.2 - Betrayed, held at gunpoint 4x14 Serve & Protect - Feelings hurt 4x15 The Last Ride - Bruised thigh, crying 4x16 Moo Moo - Talks about depressing childhood 4x17 Cop-Con - Hungover, chest pain, literally on fire, gag/dizzy 4x18 Chasing Amy - Scared, worried, slams into bars 4x19 Your Honor - Claustrophobic, daddy issues 4x20 The Slaughterhouse - Water & milk drugged, extremely jittery 4x21 The Bank Job - Hungover, held at gunpoint, framed, arrested 4x22 Crime & Punishment - Hardcore framed

5x01 The Big House Pt.1 - Life threatened multiple times, jumpscared, aggressively beaten up x3 (limping/cuts), scared 5x02 The Big House Pt.2 - Solitary confinement, daddy issues/panic, blackmailed, life threatened multiple times, on meth, very jittery 5x03 Kicks - Daddy issues, nightmare, prison trauma, confession/suspends himself, sad 5x04 HalloVeen - Jumpscare x2, prison trauma, restrained, betrayed 5x06 The Venue - Daddy issues 5x07 Two Turkeys - Sad childhood + daddy issues 5x08 Return to Skyfire - Tired, painfully thrown to the wall 5x09 99 - Daddy issues 5x10 Game Night Pt.1 - Emotional 5x11 The Favor Pt.2 - Emotional/daddy issues 5x12 Safe House - Stir crazy, throat punched, tear off mustache pain, held at gunpoint, daddy issues 5x13 The Negotiation - Held at gunpoint, hostage, sad childhood, brokenheart 5x14 The Box - Embarrassed, relationship tested, angry outburst, hit by a chair, bloody nose 5x15 The Puzzle Master - Hand twisted, jealous, hand cramp 5x17 Dfw - Very nervous, shared daddy issues 5x18 Gray Star Matual - Intimidated 5x19 Bachelor/ette Party - Sickly drunk, guilt, heartbroken 5x20 Show Me Going - Daddy issues, worried, scared 5x21 White Whale - Stressed, 5x22 Jake & Amy - Life threatened, jealous, emotional

6x01 Honeymoon - Stressed 6x02 Hitchcock & Scully - Trapped 6x03 The Tattler - Annoyed, angry outburst, therapy denial, betrayed, angry 6x04 Four Movements - Body slammed, beaten up and sobbed offscreen, pain 6x05 A Tale of Two Bandits - Emotional 6x06 The Crime Scene - Bad childhood, sleep deprived, losing sanity, looks horrible, guilt 6x09 The Golden Child - Choking, heimliched, probably broken rib, punched unconscious, kidnapped 6x10 Gintars - Nervous, guilt 6x11 The Therapist - Massively in denial, hates therapists, held at gunpoint/captured, confesses, emotional 6x12 Casecation - Daddy issues/bad childhood, scared, life threatened (bomb) 6x13 The Bimbo - Emotional x2, bad childhood, height insecurity 6x14 Ticking Clocks - Arm punched x2 6x15 Return of the King - Feelings hurt, angry 6x16 Cinco de Mayo - Tazed x2, betrayed, emotions manipulated 6x17 Sicko - Career threatened x2, almost bit, insulted 6x18 The Suicide Squad - Punched, betrayed, imprisoned, depressed

7x01 Manhunter - Undermined 7x02 Captain Kim - Stepdaddy issues/trust issues x2 7x03 Pimemento - Scared of heights 7x04 The Jimmy Jab Games II - Falls from the ceiling, pain, trips, ceiling falls on him, extreme pain 7x05 Debbie - Knocked unconscious, restrained 7x06 Trying - Hungover, sad 7x07 Ding Dong - Daddy issues, uncomfortable the whole episode, emotional 7x08 The Takeback - Angry, feels betrayed, smushed, threatened 7x09 Dillman - Sad, framed 7x10 Admiral Peralta - Punched 7x11 Valloweaster - Trips, therapy 7x12 Ransom - Held at gunpoint, kidnapped, restrained/threatened

#whump #emotional whump #whump list #whumplist #brooklyn 99 #brooklyn nine nine #jake peralta #andy samberg #b99 #b99 whump #andy samberg whump #jake peralta whump

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