#of still not being able to stand the sight of broken glass

[twola]

i know arthur is a giver but sometimes i think he’d like being cruel. i have this image of him leaned back in a chair taking a drag out of his cigarette with reader writhing on his lap with tears in her eyes practically begging for him to do anything to her while he watches with feign indifference

Hooo boy. Okay, this is my first shot at a true low honor Arthur.

Lookin' for Trouble

Arthur Morgan x F!Reader Smut (18+), MDNI

➵ Fic Masterlist ➵ AO3 Link

The afternoon light was more than enough for you to finally get to reading after getting Grimshaw’s list of chores done. Finally, you’d be able to crack open this book that Hosea lent you all those weeks ago.

All of a sudden, the light is obscured over the pages of your book, and when you look up, you place a hand over your eyes to see the mountain of a man before you, peering down at you with a cigarette hanging off his lips.

“Oh, Arthur, I didn’t realize you’d be back so quick.” You smile up to him, closing the book and moving to your knees to stand up.

An outstretched hand juts into your view, “Ain’t nothin’ interesting in that backwater town.”

You take it and allow him to pull you up, but you frown up at him and don’t let go, turning both of your hands so that his knuckles face the two of you. The skin is broken and oozing a small amount of blood.

“Oh dear, let me clean that up for you in your tent.”

You drop his hand and he follows, smoking that cigarette without a reply. On its head, it must be a funny sight, the grizzled outlaw following your small frame back to his tent so dutifully. 

He pulls the canvas down after the two of you enter the tent, tall enough being built off his wagon. The perks of being the enforcer of the group. You make yourself busy looking in the chest at the foot of his cot for some alcohol as you pull a handkerchief from the pocket of your skirt.

Arthur sits down on the edge of the cot, taking that old black hat from his head and dropping it atop the pillow that had seen better days.

“Here we go,” you dab your handkerchief with a bottle of god-knows-what and move back toward where Arthur sits.

He places the still-lit cigarette in the little glass tray at his bedside, the end of it continuing to smolder as he blows smoke toward the top of the tent, away from you.

You frown, twisting your head to change your view of his outstretched knuckles. “It’s an awkward angle, I-”

He cuts you off by making you yelp as his free hand shoots around your hip and pulls you down, your rear colliding with his firm thigh, his hand on your hip balancing you as you regain your composure.

“Oh… thanks…” you blush slightly, having been caught off guard. You return to dabbing at the broken skin of his knuckles, his large hand outstretched and dwarfing yours, as you perch upon his thigh, your back flush to his barrel chest.

“How did this happen?” You ask softly as you pick at the dirt in his inflamed, broken skin. 

“Y’know, a bit of this, bit of that.”

You sigh, “I really hope you ain't out pickin’ fights, Arthur.”

Arthur hums dismissively in response, jostling you slightly on his thigh. He props the cigarette between his teeth and his free hand moves forward and begins bunching your skirts up, the hem of your dress being pulled higher and higher.

“Arthur-” You go to scold, but his searching hand gravitates right over where he’s looking for, pressing against your cunt through your bloomers. You give another yelp as his finger digs at the cotton, prodding and stroking and petting.

“A-Arthur, I’m tryin’ to-”

As you go to grip his forearm with both hands, his injured hand darts downward, grasping both of your wrists and holding them away from your body, essentially binding you and leaving you unable to stop his ministrations.

A low, satisfied noise rumbles out through his chest as you pant, his fingers edging the leg of your bloomers open and touching your bare skin. Just barely touching, teasing, as you squirm in his lap, his hold on your wrists as strong as iron. 

You honest-to-god whine, tears welling behind your eyes as you squirm in his lap, trying to break free of his hold on your hands, trying to jut your hips into his hand more.

“A-Arthur- god, please-” you gasp aloud, squeezing your eyes shut tightly as you beg. He removes his hand entirely and you nearly sob at the loss.

Cracking your eyes open, you see him pull the cigarette from his mouth and place it in that glass tray, mashing the butt into the ash as he puts it out. He bounces his thigh as his hand returns to your cunt, chuckling darkly as you continue to squirm.

“Ain’t you just the prettiest little thing when you’re all needy like this?”

A fresh set of tears burst from your eyes as his hand snakes into your bloomers again to rub at you.

“P-please-”

“Please what, what d’ya need darlin’?”

He cups your cunt fully and helps you roll your hips over his thigh bone, and it’s all you can do not to sob loudly at the frustration.

“Use your words, sweetheart.”

“Arthur please, please god, please touch me.”

“I am touchin’ ya’.” He responds, pleased with himself as you struggle against his grip, iron-like in its strength.

“In-inside-” you pant, continuing to squirm against him.

“Hmm, like this?”

You are able to bite back the scream you nearly let out as Arthur slides his trigger finger into your dripping cunt. He curls it with a practiced precision, and you buck in his lap, throwing your head back against the curve of his shoulder. Your temple brushes against his days-old beard before he leans in against you.

“There’s my girl,” he nips at your earlobe with haughty pride, fully taking satisfaction with the way you writhe atop him, “Makin’ them noises like a whore.”

There’s no snapping back at him, no retort back at his dry, teasing humor. You are able to do nothing but give a breathy sigh, almost agreeing with his statement.

Arthur grabs your hips and hoists you up to stand, quickly following and pushing you two stumbling steps to the table where a few of his guns are spread out. One sweep of his arm and the guns clatter into the grass before you're abruptly bent at the waist and spread out on the table.

“Arthur-”

One of his large hands splays across your lower back as he fiddles with the buttons of his pants. Essentially keeping you pinned down on the table, you have no option but to lay there and take whatever he is going to give you.

Arthur pulls your skirts up, tossing them over your hips before yanking your bloomers down and over the swell of your ass. His hand is between your legs quicker than you can sputter in indignation, and you bite your lip to keep from moaning as he strokes his thick fingers in and out of your wetness. Your eyes tightly shut as you breathe out your nose, and for a moment, you’re empty as he pulls away.

The hot, blunt head of his cock prods your entrance before he pushes himself inside you, in one strong thrust. Your fingers clamp on the edge of the table as you clench your teeth at the intrusion, fluttering on the edge of pain as his thick cock stretches you. It’s always like this, he’s not much of a gentle man. 

“Tha’s it, what a good girl you are, takin’ everything I give ya.” Arthur drawls as he begins to buck his hips forward into yours, unflinchingly setting a rough, fast pace.

You’re unable to last after all the stimulation before, and it’s not long into the slamming of him into you that you begin to get that feeling that your release was imminent.

“A-Arthur-” you gasp out as you reel toward completion, the table squealing beneath you as he rocks his hips into yours faster, harder - punishing - all six foot of him hunches over you as he fucks you into a wet, messy orgasm, you pressing your forehead into the table as you clench around him.

He grunts, jerking his hips backward as his hands clamp harshly around your hips, squeezing so hard you’re sure there will be bruises in the morning. You feel the hot splatter of his spend on your rear as he lets out a long breath through his nose, trying himself to be quiet within the confines of the tent.

You pant, still bent over the small table, your skirts flipped over your hips as your knees shake. You hear Arthur fiddle with his pants before returning to you, his hands grasping at your thighs greedily before pulling at your skirts to right them.

He swats, albeit gently, at your rear before your skin disappears under your skirts. 

“You gonna let me finish cleaning you up?” You ask, leaning over slightly to pick up your discarded bloomers from the ground, tucking them into your pocket.

Arthur sits back on his cot, his pants still unbuttoned and open unapologetically, as a sly smile creeps across his face.

“If yer really gonna clean me up, I think there’s a lot less clothing involved.”

#arthur morgan #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #red dead redemption #red dead fanfic #twolafic #arthur morgan smut #rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x reader #red dead smut #twola1k #prompt request

[curvykittyyssmutfics]

My fare kitty, I would love to request where Steve Rogers and his teammate, reader had suffered a sex pollen. The only solution is sex 🤭

My fair kitty.. I just love that! Totally moved your request to the front. Made me smile waaaay too much. 🙂

FILE 999V

Steve and you root around the abandoned lab in comfortable silence for the file you were tasked with collecting. The room was dirty and dim, and broken glass scattered the dusty floor. Boards block the windows, except the one you and Steve entered through due to the door being blocked with cement blocks and debri. The whole building looked like it was in the verge of collaspe, this room especially. You were just glad you both had enough light to search through the drawers, cabinets and rubble around the room.

Intel reported it had be stashed before the previous employees deserted. So far no luck. You were hoping that this wasnt some needless mission. You guys needed a win and what was inside this file was supposed to be it.

You kick the filing drawer closed with your hefty ass black combat boot, standing and stretching, missing the way your partners eyes roam over you. Steve secretly takes in every inch of you, licking his lips at the sight of your snug ass fit huggin your curves. He's has to mentally scold himself to get back to the task at hand.

When you turn around, you observe an odd sight in the corner of the room. Glancing at Steve who's a few feet away, head first into a metal bin, searching its contents attentively. You don't wanna disturb his concentration so you quietly make your way over to it.

It's.. A very alien looking plant shimmering in the dingy light of the room. Its on the smaller side, still, you can't believe you over looked it. The stem and leaves are almost translucent and pull you in closer as you study it. The blooming petals were an angry red; thin tendrils extended from the middle of the flower, surrounding it protectively. There's something so damn familiar about. Had you seen it before somewhere else?

You reach up to gently stroke it as Steve stands and turns to see if you've made any progress.

"Y/n, Don't touch, get away-" Steve starts from behind you, hand outstretched to grab the back your uniform but its too late.

Your hand snatches back from stroking the leaf of the unique looking plant. The root of it, growing from a crack in the floor, gives a small wiggle as a bulge quickly forms at the base. Whatever it was quickly swims up the stem and explodes out the center of the plant in a glittery sunset colored dust.

It's almost like smoke the way it spreads in the air across the entire room. It's pretty, almost mesmerizing but it chokes you and makes it hard to breathe. Stumbling backwards, you and Steve try to avoid sucking it in but it's pointless.

And it's effects are instantaneous. Your body temperature rises, skin hot to the touch. Its hard to contain the whimper in your throat from your nipples stiffening and rubbing against your bra. The air in room feels electrified, like static swirling in the air, and you feel the dampness in your panties. Not realizing your breathing has accelerated a bit, you feel goosebumps across your skin in waves. What. The. Fuck.

With dilated eyes, you turn to Steve. He's already looking at you, his own eyes set with a piercing gaze and a clenched jaw. You observe the flush on his cheeks and the way his adam apple bobs nervously on a hard swallow as he backs away. You can't understand why but you mourn as he puts space between the two of you. He turns his back without a single word, able to readjust his hardening dick without you noticing before speaking into his comm.

"R-requesting evac. NOW." His tone low but demanding has your pussy clenching rapidly.

He waits only moment, before responding.

"That won't work, we need it immediately. We've been doused with.. Something.. And we need Stark." Steve's becoming frustrated, his hand coming up to yank at the tips of his soft blonde hair.

"Fine. You have our location. Hurry up." His tense dismissal has you reluctant to speak. But it's clear he knows what the hell that damn plant is.

"Rogers, what's going on? Why are we evacuating?" You ask like you're not rubbing your thighs together for any kind of small pressure on your throbbing center.

"We need Tony to analyze us, see if he can make an antidote." He explains turning back to me. His nostrils expand like he smells something and you pretend to not notice the hungry ass look in his eye.

"Yeah, but why? What the fuck was that?" You're pointing to the corner of the room, frowning at the source of this debacle.

"Language, woman." Steve says curtly.

He's quiet for a moment, tense shoulders flexing. His silence makes you apprehensive. What the fuck is going on here??

"You remember file 999v?" He finally asks with a raised brow.

You have to think.. You've read alotta fucking files and have to scower your brain for what he's talking about. Your not exactly a straight A soldier and don't read every brief before a mission.

"Uh... yeah.. I think. Sex poll-" you stop dead in you tracks.

Seriously?? You can't believe your luck! The findings and report of the plant being an aphrodisiac run through your mind in a loop. What are the fuckin odds you would get doused with this shit while accompanied by the only man you ever wanted to fuck you till you dropped. The look in your wide eyes is nothing short of panic. What the hells gonna happen if you guys don't comply?! You were really starting to wish you read that file more thoroughly.

"Listen, y/n, the teams on their way. Only an hour and a half out."

"How the hell are we supposed to wait that long?" You hope you don't sound hysterical but Steves always been perceptive. He hears the panic in your voice.

Walking over on long toned legs that carry him over in just a few steps, he tries to comfort you. Strong hands come up cup your cheeks, fingertips caressing, and his voice loses all hardness as he speaks.

"Honey, you can't get riled like this. The symptoms only get worse with time, please calm down. I don't want you accelerating the negative effects."

Fuuuck his touch was intoxicating. You barely hear his words as you lean into his hand. Warmth sparks from his touch, traveling all over your body in sparks. The smell of Steve made you want taste him, run your tongue on every inch of his body. Hear all the pretty sounds he'd make as you'd get to his dick. Shit, why were you sweating so much?

Through all the arousal, your stomach suddenly lurches with nausea and your knees go weak. You almost crash to the floor as Steve catches you with super human reflexes. He's talking but you don't hear him as you blink dizzily.

Steve shakes you a bit but your becoming unresponsive, conscious but unable to sort out his words. Your burning hot to the palms of his hands, your arms wrap around his neck as he tries get you to comprehend. You're beyond coherence in an instant. All you can do is let out a small pained while you press your hips forward, your clothed mound humping at the bulge in his pants as he holds you up.

Steve groans lowly at the pressure you're putting on his dick, hips unconsciously lifting towards yours to give the access you need. He knows your running outta time, realizes the team won't get here fast enough. Doesn't know why everything's happening so fast. You were getting worse by the second. He was gonna have to decide: Fuck you or let the plant's effects kill you.

Looking down at the wet spot forming on his dark gray tactical pants from your desperate movements, he tries to concentrate. Steve doesn't think you've ever been prettier, y/e/c eyes dazed as shit, looking so fucked out as you try to find your release. Your mumbling and moaning incoherently, hips working frantically against his as your fever spikes. The skin of your arms and his neck are so hot together it almost felt like you both could burn up everything around you. Decision made. He wouldn't let you suffer a moment longer.

Laying you on the ground with more haste than he meant to, Steve tries to explain the plant to you again. He stresses you on what your signing up for, needs you to know this ends with that hidden little gem of yours filled to the brim with his cum, but Steve's words fall on deaf ears. Jumbled, broken sentences fall from your lips as you feebly paw at his zipper.

Fuck he knew he shouldn't be so eager but couldn't help it. His dick is constantly perking up when your around, no matter where you two are. Your uniform generously hugs your curves enticingly. He's never met woman as pretty or witty as you. Plus that fuckin mouth.. Half the nasty ass shit that comes outta it always has him turning away, hopelessly pressing his dick down to calm it.

Steves gets both his and your bottoms and shoes off in record time. Pulling his comm from his ear and setting it next to his clothes, he doesn't realize his shoes tip over onto the small disc shaped object as he leans over you. You still look like you're in stupor but your legs upon wide for him as you lift your hips.

Thanks to that damn plant, your pussy drips to the filthy floor, a small wet puddle forming underneath you as Steve stares unashamed. He fist his dickly slowly as he wonder what you taste like. With a swipe of his finger he finds out and his animalistic groan fills the room. He can't stall anymore. His semen the only thing to alleviate the effects you're experiencing, he really didn't wanna bust before he got inside you.

Steve lines up with your fluttering core and pushes the tip of his fat cock in swiftly with a stuttering huff. You arch upwards harshly, nails scratching down his back, his strength thankfully keeping from bucking him off you as you let out a high pitched keen. He grits his teeth against your reaction, having to avert his gaze to keep from nuttin in you right away.

The super soldier stares intently at the cracked, crumbling wall in front of him, breathing harshly through his nose, as he pulls back and strokes inside you halfway this time. Your legs cage and squeeze his hips as your body shakes wildly underneath him. The motion makes your breast flop up and down uncontrollably under your shirt. Your pussy tries to strangle his cock, grippin Steve so fuckin snuggly.

When he pulls back and pushes in the third time, it's to the hilt and you fucking lose it. Your hands reach up to grab onto something, anything, as your gushing pussy releases a strong jet against the dick sittin your guts. You feel Steve's blonde silky strands against your fingertips and unconsciously grab a handful in each palm as you pull HARD, his head yanking back vigorously. He's moans like a whore at your rough treatmeant but you dont hear. The puddle under you grows as you squirt again, streams of your cream weeping out around his twitchin dick. Your soaking wet little puss can't stop trying to milk him for all he's worth.

"Steeeeeeeve, uhh uhh hhh, St- aaaah!" His name is the only word he's able to make out through your gasping sobs.

Steve Roger's might be super human but he was still a man. Between your unexpected orgasm, coupled with the way you were shuddering and wailing, all bets were off. He no longer avoids looking at your beautiful body. Steve grabs your wrists and pins them above your head. He wordlessly pulls his dick out to inspect your release before serving you deep, rapid, jerky strokes. Your head thrashes side to side as he pipes you down. You're gasping in gleeful gratification, as his cock stick and stirs you thoroughly. SMACK SMACK, SMACK SMACK, SMACK SMACK. The sounds of your intense fucking and heavy breathing are loud in Steve's ears.

His pelvis smashes into your juicy ass, forcing you quivering body to accept penetrating thrusts. The nut he's about to release is as sudden as yours, barreling through him like a freight train. He snatches your wrist together in one big hand while the other firmly grasps your chin, leaning down to connect your lips in a feral wet kiss. Your mind is so cloudy but you try with all your might to return the kiss.

"Oh Sh-.. Daaammit! Hah! Ahhhhh, fuh-.. S-such a good giiirrll." Steve moans into your mouth as his cum surges into you in an outpour.

Hot liquid cascades against your delicate little pusses quivering walls, immediately helping to clear the fog in your head just a bit. With each thrust inside, his throbbing girth splashes your inside and fills you up. Steve's head lowers, mouth near your ear, as he huffs out low groans and cums so fuckin much that it begins to spill from your insides like a river. Even after the 5th pump of cum, his fat cock keeps draining itself into you.

You can finally think a little as your head falls to the side limply. Your chest rises up and down rapidly as you try catch your breath, the smell of sex in the air. Steves head is buried in your neck as he does the same when your eyes fall on Steve's pants and shoes. Your eyes wide as saucers at the un-fuckin-believable sight right in front of you.

"Roger's, your boot is pressing on the dam comm!!"

#steve rogers #steve rodgers x reader #smut #sex pollen #dubious consent

[yandere-genji]

Do you plan on writing for Ramattra cause I have a lot of thoughts

my first full ramattra piece, i hope you enjoy!!

nsfw

TW: dubcon, yandere

contains: kidnapping, blood, injuries, fingering, human pet, mentions of reading being young and pretty, mention of doomfist/reader

reader is gender neutral

Drones whirled above your head, obliterating everything in sight. You kept yourself hidden amongst the rubble and searched for any sort of sanctuary. Most structures in the town square had been dusted by now, mounds of debris and glass in their stead. Running behind whatever cover you could find, you were fortunate enough to find a storefront still standing. The hum of lasers harmonized with the cries of warriors and civilians alike and you sprinted through the street. As noise began to taper off in the opposite direction of the little building, you could feel your heart pounding with you feet as you ran to safety.  

Once inside, your hands shook frantically and you tried to force your nerves to calm. It was no use, nothing could relieve you from the horrors you had just witnessed. Without thought, you wrap your arms around yourself and collapse to your knees. At any moment, omnic forces could come barging through the broken glass windows of the store front and wipe away your very life. But you couldn’t fight, couldn’t do anything but sink into yourself and try to process the carnage you had just witnessed. 

You shuffled yourself behind the cashier’s counter. that. Coins still littered the counter top. What had happened to the people in this shop once the omnic forces fell upon the city? Were they just far enough from the locus of the attack that they were able to escape? Or were they shot down by the drones that you witnessed kill so many others? 

You remember how quickly tensions rose in the city once Null Sector declared they would incite their war on cities like yours. Next to Kings Row, yours was among the highest rated in anti-omnic attitudes. You had seen it, too, especially before the attack. People openly mocked the threats from the Null Sector. Omnics, they can only follow orders, how would they be able to win any fight against humans? You heard from a far away discussion amongst your coworkers. Omnics would never be able to gain the upper hand, that was the general opinion. Whatever empty threats Null Sector was spewing was all bark and no bite. Omnics were far too passive to make a move. 

You were raised alongside omnics your whole life and had received nothing but kindness from them. Really, you had seen no difference from them to yourself and never quite understood the stigmatization. In fact, most were more sensible than the humans you knew. Sure, your family had tried to explain to you that omnics can’t really be compared to humans, and they were nothing but a liability - rogue computer programs. But you didn’t feel that way. The only thing their rhetoric had done was open your eyes to how desperate humans were to claim superiority over others. 

A part of you thought maybe you were getting what was coming to you. For being complacent in a society that profits from the suffering of others. You were always too scared to interfere when insults or fists were thrown to those poor omnics who would cross the line in any way, dare to question societal norms. You were no better as a bystander than the bullies you admonished in your mind but were too cowardly to confront. 

“What a pitiful little city,” your thoughts were interrupted by a metallic voice, “It brings me great pleasure to bring them to their knees.”

They were inside. To your right. Blocking the door. 

“And with Talon by your side, you will be able to dust much more impressive cities than this,” another metallic male voice responds, “This is just a taste.”

You were surprised the pounding of your heart didn’t give away your position to the omnics just behind the counter. Metal scrapped against the linoleum floor as they walked past you, farther into the shop. 

“I have grown so tired of waiting, brother,” the first omnic spoke, voice a bit deeper than the other, “To see these plans come into action…it moves me.”

He seemed to be droning into some monologue that dissipated as they continued into the shop, the opposite direction of the very exit you were scanning for. Carefully, you shuffled onto the floor trying to be as quiet as possible. Thankfully, their footsteps echoed louder than the fabric of your clothes against the floor. The door was right there, right in front of you.

But maybe you were too eager and grew louder the closer you were to freedom. Or perhaps you were just unlucky, and the omnics decided to turn around at the worst time. But you were caught, cold hands clawed into your skin as you were pulled up into the air by your ankles. You yelped, weeped, and writhed under his hand. 

“Ha! And what have we here! Another bug to squash. Look at how you wiggle like a worm,” he was enjoying this, you were going to die at the hands of a killer.

Though you wanted to plead your case, your words were choked by your sobs. It seemed to amuse him even more, his laughter was like nails on a chalkboard with the way it pierced your ears. Fresh, warm blood tickled your legs as it streamed down from the hands gripping you. You heard the male omnic beside him scoff in disgust. 

���Please, Ramattra, I prefer to keep out of the dirty work,” you look over to him and he seemed like just the type. Dressed to the nines in all black that matched the glossy black metal of his hair. 

“Another obstacle in our path to freedom, brother,” he lifted you higher in the air and your eyesight lined up with his wide chest, “what shall we do with a pest like you?”

“Let the damn thing go,” the other omnic spoke, “It’s just a human, and a young one at that. We have more important matters to attend to.”

“No,” Ramattra spoke, his tone dark with intent, “This human would show us no such mercy if they were in our position. No matter how innocent or young they may seem, I know their cruelty. They’re nothing short of beasts with insatiable appetites.”

“Please,” you managed to whimper, “Please…I wouldn’t hurt you, ever. I just want to go home…”

Your pleas hiccuped back into sobs. You must’ve looked a mess, tears running down your forehead onto tiled floor. Your face as red as the blood that trailed down your leg. Whoever Ramattra was, he was not going to be your saving grace. The other omnic, however, might be the one to let you free. Even if only because of the fact he didn’t want to get himself dirty with your blood.  

“Ugh, pathetic little thing. A pleasant appearance, though. I can always use an extra pet for Akande. He’s always looking for another toy to play with, it seems,” he was eyeing you, now. You didn’t like the way his eyes roamed your body like he was inspecting you. 

“He would treat it too well,” Ramattra began, “A human from this degenerate city should be treated just as harshly as they would treat an omnic.”

“Trust me, it is not pleasant what Akande does to his concubines,” he chuckled to himself and your eyes widen in fear. Whatever fate you were going to get out of this encounter would be nothing short of agonizing. These omnics were treating you worse than a dog, debating whether or not you were worth keeping alive. 

“I want it sedated. Then we will decide what to do with it,” Ramattra demanded as he dropped you to the ground, “If you obey, I may spare your life.”

You froze, leg pulsing and burning with pain around your newly freed ankle. The wound was open and blood pooled around you. Your mind went dizzy, everything was fuzzy. You felt drunk, your pulse quickened. This was it, you tried to focus on anything around you, tried to get a vision of the world around you before you bleed out. Nothing could come into view, but you could hear the omnics discuss something among themselves. You heard the hum of their voices, growing fainter and fainter as the world went black. 

———

When you regained consciousness, you eyes seemed to be sealed shut. But the stinging in your ankle kept you awake, you wouldn’t be able to go to sleep with the  pulsating pain from your calves to the rest of your body. It was dark, wherever you were, and smelled like rust. Computer monitors and holo-images illuminated the room in a dim glow. You could heard the familiar sound of metal against metal behind you. 

“Awake, are we?” Ramattra’s voice startled you and you jumped, “You may consider yourself lucky, human. But let me assure you, you’re anything but.”

Before you could react, his face met yours, his cold metal grazing over your warm flesh, fog forming on his forehead where you met. He looked like the visage of death himself, white as a skull with beads of glowing red. You stared into the dark slits of his eyes, mouth agape and mind running with ideas of how to escape the situation you’ve just found yourself in. 

“Nothing to say?” you could feel his hatred through his gaze, like he wanted you to burst into flames. 

You lips shutter when you spoke, “I’m sorry.”

You didn’t know what for, but it was all you could think to say. You felt more sorry for yourself in that moment than anything else. Sorry that you had been born and raised in the wrong place at the wrong time, sorry you didn’t die with the city you left behind, sorry you got yourself into this mess. 

Ramattra growled in response, “You will be.” 

Hands like steel gripped your throat, slammed you down onto the floor. Your cheek hit the ground and you could feel a crack in your nose before it began to bleed. Again, he threw you against the floor as if for good measure and you coughed out a groan. 

“Your people have tormented mine for far too long,” he dragged you by the neck and pinned you against the wall, legs dangling in the air, “I’ll make sure you get your comeuppance.”

You coughed, blood spraying from your nose and onto the rags around his neck, “I’m sorry.”

He slammed you against the wall again and you felt the back of your head ring in pain, “You think that will save you? Begging for forgiveness?”

He freed you from his grip and you fell to the floor, hands reaching up the feel the mark across your throat. You could feel the skin already swelling. It was going to leave a nasty bruise. For a moment, you were able to catch your breath, but it didn’t last long before a swift kick to your stomach had you gasping for air. 

“Go on then. Beg.”

“Wha-?” the moment you hesitate, you’re met with a fist to the face that knocks you back down, “Please, please, I’m so sorry.”

“Louder,” he almost sings when he speaks, lifting a clawed foot over your torso and threatening to put weight on it.

“I’m sorry!” you’re shouting now, as much as you can muster through the blood, saliva, and tears, “Please, I don’t want to hurt anyone. I never meant to hurt any-“

He pulls you up by the collar and onto your knees while looking down at you, staring at the mess you’ve become, “You humans are all the same. You spin the same tale, always the innocent victims of the world around you, right? Oh, you poor thing. How mistreated you are.”

You fall to the floor, unable to lift yourself up when Ramattra lets go of you. You’re tired, what little fight you had at the beginning of this encounter was completely drained. But it seemed like Ramattra still had a lesson to teach you as he dragged your limp body across the room, onto what looked like some sort of examination table. 

It’s the softest thing you’ve felt since you woke up, a welcome sensation as you lean against the firm cushion. You lift a hand over your injured side, right where Ramattra had struck you. You couldn’t tell if you had been sweating profusely or bleeding again. All of the pain was beginning to overwhelm you. 

“If I could, I would’ve stopped it,” you began, thinking out loud, “I don’t know why they do it, I never understood why but I couldn’t stop it.”

“What on Earth are you talking about?” Ramattra scoffed, hand firmly holding your calf just above the injured ankle, “Speaking as if you’re the victim in all of this. You’re only in pain because of the pain you’ve caused.”

“You’re right,” you concede, wincing when your ankle stung alive again, “I’m no better than anyone else. I should’ve stopped them. No one deserves that…”

You believed what you were saying, it was a deep insecurity that lived inside of you for a long time. Your cross to bare, the guilt of watching it all happen and doing nothing. But in this moment, that internal struggle was manifesting itself. The justice that those suffered omnics so rightfully deserved was now your burden. 

“My brothers that were bound by the ways of your city - your people - have now been freed. They celebrate now in the rubble of what you once called home. All shattered to pieces to be rebuilt in the name of our liberation,” he spoke to you with great pride in his voice, spoke more to himself than anyone else, “The world as you know it will cease to exist, I will see to that myself. As for you…”

He looked down at you. Really looked down at you. Like when you look to wipe gum off the bottom of your shoe. Something to rid oneself of, that’s what you were in his eyes. If you had made it this far, maybe he had some sort of plan for you. 

“I hope you’re right,” you say just above a whisper, fearful to misspeak, “Where I’m from…that’s not the way it should be. And I’m just a coward that was too scared to say anything about it.”

“That much is certain,” his voice soften, “You still are a coward. Letting me do to you as I please without an ounce of protest. Most would try to fight or flee, yet you don’t. There must not be a single thought in that pretty head of yours.”

Pretty? You’re confused, heat rose on your cheeks as you registered what he said. Though it was an insult thrown to you by your captor, the word itself wasn’t one you were used to hearing. You couldn’t help but feel flattered, however inappropriate at the time. 

“I’m sorry,” feels like you were always going to be sorry as long as you were here, “There must be some way I can reconcile with all the pain that I’ve caused besides…this…”

You gesture to your injured body and you could see the way Ramattra obliged you. His eyes trailing over your injuries, observing the marks he had made. He was slow and silent, deliberating over your words, hopefully thinking of some way to honor your request. 

“What a hopeless soul you are. Need me to tell you how to repent, need me to make you realize the wrong that you’ve done, to knock some sense into you. Still, you have the nerve to ask me my command,” his words were harsh but his voice was almost jovial, “I see you’re the type of human to be kept as a pet.”

He seemed to be enjoying this, judging by the tone of his voice. Just as he enjoyed digging his fingers into your ankle when he had first caught you. Something about seeing you hopeless appealed to him. If that’s the case, you might as well try to lean into it. 

“A pet? What do you mean?” you play along, furrow your eyebrows and put on a breathy voice. 

“Curious, are you?” his voice lowers, silky smooth yet metallic, “Yes, plenty of talon members have their own human pets. Nipping at their heels endlessly, at the beck and call of those who own them. I suppose it’s a fitting punishment for someone like you.”

It seemed to be working, but the direction of this conversation was anything but in your favor. Though it was probably a marginally better punishment than death by Ramattra’s beatings. And Talon…it sounded familiar but you honestly had no clue what he was talking about. Some sort of Null Sector faction or something? 

“What sort of work is involved as a…” you pause for a moment, it was difficult to formulate the words the more real the discussion was becoming, “human pet?”

He chuckled lowly in response, takes a moment to think before answering, “One might think to say comfort, but the word sounds far too optimistic. I imagine stress relief would be a more suitable term.”

“I’m not sure I understand…” but you do, just don’t want to admit it.

“Good lord, you really are dull,” he brought a hand to your side, “Do you need me to demonstrate it for you?”

It’s not a question and you’re given no time to respond when he pulled himself onto the examination table. His body loomed over you, his shadow casting everything in darkness. You swallowed, thickly and muscles tensed. He hooked his fingers onto the waistband of your pants, pulling them off. The cold air left goosebumps on your exposed thighs and you began to panic. There was that fight in you he was talking about. But before you could wiggle your way out from under him, another arm - massive, purple - pinned you down by the throat. Then another just like that one pinned your right wrist, then your left. 

He makes quick work in removing your underwear and pulling them with your pants down to your ankles. You were completely exposed, body shaking and breathing becoming increasingly more difficult. He hums, warm and curious, like he had never seen something quite like what he was seeing now. You feel a glossy, slick finger rubbing the inside of your thigh. It’s cold and you flinch at the touch and you hear a small oh. It seemed like he was experimenting with you, observing the limits of the human body. 

That same glossy finger stretched the entrance of your hole, you can’t help the whimper that escaped your lips. It burned, fire building higher and higher the deeper he pushed inside of you. It was worse when he pulled back, the emptiness making you need something to fill it but wanting anything but to feel that burning sensation. He brought another finger inside, and it felt impossibly tight. If he were human, the pressure might’ve suffocated his skin. But the tightness wasn’t an issue as he kept pumping in and out of you. 

The sensation started as painful as the burning soreness on your throat, but the more adjusted your body had become, the less painful it was. Your whimpers began to die down, becoming breathy sighs. It seems that wasn’t enough for Ramattra because he curled his fingers up into you and elicited a scream, both in pleasure and in pain. It felt good, he hit somewhere deep inside of you that you hadn’t reached before. 

“Like that, did you?” his tone was different than ever before. It was playful, like speaking to a dog. A pet. 

You breath comes out in a stutter, trying to recover from that sudden feeling. It hits you again, making your eyelids flutter. He curled into you deeper, and then began to scissor his fingers into you. You could feel a knot forming in your core and shamefully your hips followed the motion of his fingers. The last place in the world you wanted to be fingered until you were a drooling mess would be in some omnic’s lair, but fuck did it feel good having Ramattra’s cool, slick metal fingers pumping in and out of you. 

“Please,” you whine, “I’m so close…”

“Are you?” he spreads his fingers inside of you again, stretching you and you pray for something to fill the emptiness, “Good.”

He stops, pulls out of you and the air feels so much colder. Your hips roll instinctually, searching for some sort of friction to get you off, but you don’t find any. Left high and dry, desperate. Ramattra’s large, purple hands keep you in place but he lifts his body off of the table. But your body craves for him, for the release that only he can give you. 

“Please!” you almost scream it, and your cheeks become red with shame. You didn’t even recognize your voice. But Ramattra wasn’t impressed, even his larger hands left your body. 

“That’s enough satisfaction for you today,” he pulled you by the wrist off of the table, clothes still pooled around your ankles, ��You haven’t earned the right, understand?”

Your mind was so pliable in that instance, you would say anything that might get his fingers back into you, “Yes.”

“Yes, master.”

“Yes, master.”

“Good,” he walks toward you and for a moment you think your plan must’ve worked, “Now, put your clothes back on, pet.”

You do as you’re told, disappointed at the command. Your mind sobers up a bit and you’re starting to realize what’s really happening. This image that Ramattra had for you to be his comfort slave. Then you remember the sensation you had felt just moments ago. A part of you was eager to enter into this arrangement but the other part of you that could still feel the stinging in your ankle, the dried blood on your skin, was not. 

“Does that gives you a further understanding of what your purpose is?” his voice interrupts your thoughts. 

“Yes, master.”

“That’s right,” his hand cups your face, squeezes your cheeks, “You are a toy and I will use you as I please.”

You didn’t even know where you were. Your home was destroyed, presumably with everyone that you knew. Could you be considered a prisoner or war? As far as anyone knew, you were dead with the rest of them. There was nowhere for you to go. No one was going to save you. The only option you had now was to pray for the mercy of your captor and buy yourself enough time to escape in one piece. 

“Yes, master.”

#yandere #male yandere #yandere x y/n #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x darling #yandere overwatch #dark overwatch #overwatch au #ramattra #yandere ramattra #ramattra x reader #dark ramattra

[flordeamatista]

Hold My Heart

pairing: boyfriend!andy barber x reader

concept: Sometimes a smile is all he needs. 

word count: 800

warnings: soft Andy, poetic fluff with the sweetest kisses, your love for him, nickname── (Butterfly)

a/n: a sweet soft Andy daydream

Masterlist

What I treasure most in life is the love you give me

Andy stands at the doorway looking at you with admiration.

You look beautiful in your sundress with a ray of sunshine streaming through the kitchen window and shadows dancing around you. 

You've given him something he's always wanted, and his azure eyes sparkles with love. 

I feel your soul whispering to mine, always protect me and love me

The darkest shadows of Andy's life have rained down upon him since the loss of his first marriage and family, but he met you in a miracle when he was in need of some light.

You made him believe in love again and showed him that he could still have a life full of light and joy.

He knew then that you were the one, and he wanted to thank you for being there for him when he needed it most. The only thing he wants to do when he comes home after a stressful day in court is to spend every minute here with you, his Butterfly.

He remembers the day you became his.

While lying on a blanket in the middle of nowhere, a sunny day shone down on you both. You felt the sun's warmth on your skin and the gentle breeze rustling through the grass. You both looked up at the blue sky on this perfect first date. 

As Andy watched a butterfly dance around your nose, he saw life in its fullest sense.

Sometimes a smile is all he needs. 

Butterflies are creatures of the air, able to float on gentle breezes. 

They symbolize freedom, beauty, and hope.

In the light of your laughter, you sang to his broken heart, healing it.

You dance around the kitchen counter, sipping your wine glass, which makes him smile even wider. This is home for him. 

When you turn around, you catch sight of him and smile flirtatiously at him, "Hello, Mr. Barber."

You wrap yourself around him.

“How’s my man? Your lips softly kiss those of his. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you close. You can feel his heart beating against yours. 

You both kiss deeply as he picks you up and sits you on the counter and stands between your legs as he inhales out his love for you, "Good to see you, Butterfly." His hands move to your face and he looks into your eyes. 

The world seems to stand still as you two pause, a connection that transcends beyond words. 

His desire looking into his soul.

Your body warms as he presses his forehead against yours and whispers, "I need you," he whispers, "I want you all," he says going in for another kiss, leaving you gasping for air.

Your fingers teased his neck and hair as you kissed the corner of his mouth. "I am yours" You kissed his jaw, "I will always be here." Another kiss, this time closer to his ear. A finger trailed along his jawline as you said, "Andy, I love you, I want you today and for the future."

"The future?" When he hears your words, his heart screams out for more. "All of me with my secret demons"

Your head tilted forward as you nodded and smile. "I can send every demon away with my love, because you are my future"

Your kisses promise your future to him.

You grabbed him by the tie and bit his lower lip. "Let's bite away the demons and make our own with our desire and lust for one another." You started fiddling with his hair and massaging his scalp, and his hands began to move down your body.

He moaned in pleasure and pulled you closer to him. 

Getting a feel of your skin on his fingertips.  To touch all of you was his desire, and you gave him everything he wanted.

He wanted more of your skin against him, his breath was hot.

When the kiss ends, he carries you down the hall and back to the bedroom as you cling to him.

His lips drop to your neck as he bites, while he smiles between the bites.

At the end, it's him who clings to you

His future is promised to you with his kisses.

 At that moment, Andy knew you were the butterfly he needed to transform his life into one filled with love and life. 

Bringing all the light into his air and wind.

Every time our lips touch, I feel like I'm in a dream and I just want to stay there forever.

#andy barber x reader #andy barber x woc!reader #andy barber #andy barber x f!reader #boyfriend!andy barber x reader #andy barber fanfiction #andy barber fic #andy barber x female reader #andy barber x latina!reader #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans characters #andy barber x you #andy barber au #defending jacob #andy barber x y/n #chris evans x reader #chris evans character fanfiction #bf!andy barber

[inlovewithquestionablecharacters]

Matt Murdock X Reader: Safe and Sound

Summary: Matt loses his hearing and you come to the rescue.

Warning: None(i think) this is just fluff

Matt Murdock did not easily get despaired. Being a lawyer meant he needed to keep his mind in a state of constant stability in order to do his job the best he could. His night job also required a steady mind because any slip up could cause the loss of a life. Despite all of this Matt couldn't manage to calm himself when his hearing stopped working. He had already lost his sight years ago which meant the only thing he could rely on to survive was the rest of his senses, his hearing being one of the most important ones. So it's safe to say that when he stopped being able to hear the noise of Hellfire's kitchen and the clinking of glass crashing onto the floor he panicked. Out of a sudden Matt's world had gone completely dark. The silence suffocated him and no matter how loud he screamed he couldn't seem to make it stop. 

He was all alone. 

Alone and vulnerable.

You strolled down the streets a shopping bag in one hand and the keys to Matt's apartment grasped in the other. You walked up the stairs calmly, stopping to give Matt's neighbours a cheery good morning as you went. Completely unaware of what was happening to your favorite brunette. You’d made it to Matt's apartment without any issues, your hands fiddled with the keys as you tried to find the correct one to open the door. Then you heard the most blood curdling scream coming from inside the apartment. Your head snapped up at the sound, the hand holding the grocery bag instinctively releasing the item as you desperately tried to pry the door open. You knew about Matt's double life so you shouldn’t be worried about a scream. What made the hairs on your arms stand up was the fact that Matt was the one screaming. 

Desperately screaming. 

And if there was one thing you knew Matt Murdock never was was desperate.

You managed to get the door open, your shoes clanged loudly against the wood flooring as you raced into the living room. Your eyes searched the room quickly, trying to find some intruder or any sense of a break in but everything seemed to be in the right place, except for the pieces of glass that littered the floor near the kitchen. You moved towards the broken cup, kneeling down to get a better look at the contents. It is possible Matt had been poisoned? You were just about to reach out to grab a piece off the floor when another scream broke out through the silent room. Your eyes snapped to the place where the noise had come from, your gaze falling on Matt's frame. You rushed over to him, your hands reaching out to touch his body.

“Matt, what's wrong? Why are you-”

The moment your hand touched his arm Matt snapped into action, his hand wrapped around your throat with a strength you often forgot he had. Your own hands made their way to Matt's forearm trying with all your might to stop him from choking you.

“Matt…”

Your voice barely came out, not that it mattered anyway Matt couldnt hear you. You looked around, searching for something to get him to realize that he wasn't in danger. Your eyes fell onto Matt's other hand, the one that had remained at his side. You used your little amount of strength, the lack of air was making you lightheaded, to grab his other arm and drag his hand towards your face. For some reason Matt didn't resist, he let you guide his hand to your cheek. The moment his hand made contact with your features his eyes lit up in recognition. He immediately let go of your throat causing you to gasp for air. Your hands went to the floor, trying to steady yourself as you breathed in some much needed oxygen. Matt's hands went to try and grab onto you but you flinched away, the survival instinct still kicked into your system. And he felt it. Matt felt the way your muscles contracted away from him. He couldn't see or hear you but an image of your face formed inside his brain, your eyes wide with fear as you looked at him. Like he was some sort of rabid animal. In a way he believed he was. 

You stared at the floor trying to get your bearings together. Matt called out your name, making you look at him. Your eyes found his brown ones, watching as his eyebrows furrowed with worry. He called out your name again a little louder this time and you realized that he couldn't hear anything at all. You crawled towards him. Matt felt the floorboards creak underneath him as you moved. Your hand went to his face but this time instead of snapping at you Matt closed his eyes, nuzzling into your palm. You felt Matt's tears on your palm as you caressed him.

“I’m sorry.”

He sounded so broken. 

You moved your body in between his legs, your arms wrapping around his neck to pull him into your embrace. Matt nuzzled into your neck, the smell of your perfume invading his nose and making him feel safe. Your body was warm around him, a big contrast to the coolness of the wall behind him. He couldn’t hear but he wasn't scared anymore because he wasn't alone now. Now he had you and you would never let anything happen to him. Ever. Just like he would never let anyone hurt you.

You managed to guide Matt to the couch so that way he could be comfortable as you tried to figure out what to do about his hearing. You would have to take him to a doctor. That was the only thing you could think of. But how the hell were you supposed to guide him through the streets of new york without either of you getting put into risk. You reached into one of the kitchen drawers searching for the kettle you knew would be there. Tea would help you think and maybe it would calm Matt down enough to get him to sleep. Perhaps once he had gotten the rest he needed his hearing would come back to him. 

Matts lay on the couch, his hands pulling at the blanket you’d placed on top of him. He wondered what you were doing. He knew you hadn’t left because he could still smell you. He wondered how he hadn't noticed the scent when you had walked in but then again he was in such a panicked state he hadn’t been paying enough attention to things. A new scent filled his nose. It was a slightly citric smell but not strong enough to be some kind of juice. Matt moved his head in the direction of the smell. Tea. You were making him orange tea. If it had been another time he would have laughed but it seemed silly to laugh given the circumstances. 

A low melody entered Matt's ears. At first he thought he had imagined it but then he heard a clink of metal and the sound of shoes on the wood floor. You were humming as you walked around the kitchen and Matt could hear you. 

He could hear you.

You were about to take the mugs filled with tea over to the couch when two arms grabbed you and turned you around. You looked up at Matt, your heart beating quickly. When had he gotten up from the couch? You hadn't even heard the floor creak behind you but then again that was kind of Matt's thing. Being quiet was a must when you fought bad guys in the night.

“Matt can you-”

“I’m so sorry. I would never hurt you on purpose.”

Matt pulled you into his chest, his body molding itself around your fame. You froze for a moment before wrapping your arms around his neck.

“It’s okay Matty. You were scared and you reacted. I know you’d never hurt me intentionally.”

Matt let out a small sob as he held you.

“Everything was dark. I couldn't… i didn't know what-”

“Shhh, It's alright you’re okay. I'm here now.”

Your hands wrapped themselves in Matt's hair as the two of you hugged.

“If you hadn’t done something… if i had…i’d never forgive myself.”

“Matthew, stop it. It was a mistake and I'm okay. You would have noticed. I know you would have.”

It was futile to argue with you. Matt knew you would never believe he could harm you. And that's what worried him because when his hands had been around your throat he wasn't thinking of anything else. He wondered if you were right, perhaps he would have noticed in time and stopped. But a small part of him thought that he only would know when it was too late. Tears welled in his eyes for the second time that day. His body slacked in your arms the emotions he’s held in for so long taking a toll on him. You sunk to the floor due to Matt's weight, one of your hands grabbing onto the counter for support. Once you two were sitting on the floor Matt buried his head into your chest, his strong arms gripping onto you for dear life. You felt Matt's tears soak through your shirt, causing some to well up in your own eyes. You hated seeing him this way but you were glad he trusted you enough to show this side of himself. You stayed like this for a while. Matt clinging onto you as he cried, you caressing him as he did so. Then Matt's head snapped up from its position, his face facing yours. One of his hands found their way to your cheek, his fingers tracing your features slowly. His thumb found your lips and he heard your heartbeat fasten slightly at the action. You had closed your eyes the moment he had placed his hand on your face, the thought of looking at him making you nervous. Matt called out your name. It came out as a whisper. So low that maybe if he hadn't been so close you wouldn’t have heard him.

“Yes?”

There was silence for a moment as Matt contemplated if this was a good moment. Every thought of doubt left his mind when he remembered the feeling that had invaded his chest when he realized you’d come to help him. The immediate peace that had consumed him when you pulled him into your body. Matt placed his hand underneath your chin, guiding you to look up at him. He could hear your heart berating, he could feel you breathe on his lip and he could smell your perfume, a scent he was sure he would never tire of.

“Matt?”

God he loved the way his name sounded on your lips.

“You alright?”

That's when he kissed you. Your hands tensed before reaching up to hold Matt's cheeks. He pulled you onto his lap, his arms wrapping around you once again. You wondered if this was all just a really realistic dream. It seemed almost impossible that after all these years you were in Matt's kitchen kissing him with everything you had. The years of bottled feelings had come to an end. Your heart felt as light as a feather and even though you didn't know it Matt had never felt happier. Matt placed his forehead against yours as he tried to catch his breath.

“I am now.”

You let out a laugh making him smirk.

“You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn't want to hurt you.”

“You could never hurt me Matt.”

“Yeah but my life isn't exactly safe. The people I love end up getting hurt. I didn't want to put a target on your back.”

“Hey, I think I should be the one who decides whether I want to be a target or not. Plus I'm in this. I have been in it since that day I stitched you up. So if anyone put a target on my back it was me. Not you.”

“You’re one tough cookie.”

“Yeah I know. It’s why you love me.”

Your eyes widened at your words realizing what you had said. You worried you had assumed too much, after all Matt had never officially said he loved you.

“You bet it is.”

With that Matt pulled you into another kiss. You melted into his body, feeling like the happiest person alive. The floor was cold and the position was starting to hurt Matt's back so you both got up. You went to look at the tea you had placed on the counter.

“Teas gone cold.”

“Leave it.”

You listened to Matt, letting him guide you to the couch. You watched as he climbed onto the sofa before opening his arms to you. You understood the message climbing onto the couch and laying on his chest. Matt's hands went to your hair, massaging your scalp tenderly. You let out a hum of approval as you snuggled more into his frame.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being here. For sticking around, even though it’s dangerous.”

“Well, we do all kinds of crazy things for people we love.”

Matt smiled at your words. Love had always been something he had wanted. At the same time he always feared for those he loved. However right now he couldn’t care less. You loved him, he loved you and neither of you would let anyone get in the way of that. Matt listened to the sound of your breathing as you began to fall asleep. For the first time in a long time the world around him seemed to go quiet. He drifted into sleep, your warmth luring him into peaceful slumber. For once Matt wasn’t plagued with nightmares instead his dreams were filled with images of you. He was safe. Completely safe because he had you and nothing was going to change that. Not if he had anything to say about it.

#matt murdock #matthew murdock #daredevil #daredevil fanfiction #matt #matt murdock x gender neutral reader #daredevil x you #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock one shot #matt murdock fanfic #marvel fanfiction #charlie cox #mcu daredevil #charlie cox daredevil #charlie cox x reader

[pedropascalsx]

Potent - Dieter Bravo x F! Reader

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Sex Pollen, Swearing, P in V sex, Oral (Both m&f) receiving, voyeurism, Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Dieter Bravo being Dieter Bravo.

Word Count: 5.2k Words.

A/N: This is my FIRST attempt at Sex Pollen. I tried. Also I tried to make Dieter as Dieter as possible but yeah. I really hope you like it. I wasn’t sure whether to post it but thought, whats the worst that could happen? Enoy!!

Unable to miss the steady stream of Taxis, Ubers and Lyfts passing your car as you’d pulled on to the street that housed your boss’s mega mansion you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. You’d attempted to call him to inform him you were on your way over to discuss his schedule for the following week, but his phone was going straight to voicemail; and it wasn’t too difficult to guess why.

The gates were wide open and a few stragglers from the party he’d thrown the night before waited impatiently for their rides to turn up as you parked your shitty car next to his brand-new range rover; the one that you’re pretty sure he still hadn’t even gotten inside of yet, let alone driven.

You said a quiet good morning to the small group of party goers watching your every move, and they grunted the same back before you slipped in through the slightly ajar doors.

Empty cups, broken glasses, discarded liquor bottles and a plethora of drug paraphernalia littered every surface of his gorgeous home. The brand new, marble coffee table that he had spent an absolute fortune on was covered in a dusty white residue and you felt crestfallen at the sight – he had begged you to get it for him as it was one of a kind – and the non-stop bidding war for it took place over three days.

You climbed the stairs and made your way to the master bedroom; the door was pushed wide open, and two women were leaning over a sleeping Dieter Bravo and snapping pictures of him, completely nude and standing to attention as so to speak. Over their loud whispering and high-pitched giggles, they didn’t hear you enter. Slamming the door to give them a fright; their attention was immediately turned to you, “Ladies. You have a choice here; you can pass me your phones and I can delete the photos myself or I can contact Mr Bravos lawyers and have them meet us here and discuss the consequences or taking illicit photos of someone without consent. And I promise you the legal team this man has on his staff is a million times better than anyone you’d be able to find off of google. So, what’s it going to be? Do you want to get arrested this fine July morning?”

You watch closely as they look at each other and back over at a still sleeping Dieter and then back down to their phones, and after a few more glances back and forth they hand over their phones. You make sure to delete all evidence of the party – clearing the recently deleted folder and removing Instagram and snapchat stories just to be safe, “I’d highly recommend staying clear of any future parties thrown at this residence” you snide as they shuffle out of the room clutching their phones and making a beeline towards the door.

Bending down you pick up a large soft throw and drape it over Dieter, trying to avoid making eye contact with his admittedly impressive morning wood as you did so.

“Dieter” you say whilst gently shaking his shoulder, “Wake up” you shake his shoulder a little harder the next time, “Wake up, Dieter, come on” and he lightly groans underneath you, eyes still widely sealed shut, “DIETER WAKE UP” you yell.

“Fuck” he grumbles out from underneath you, “Where’s the urgency baby?”.

“Dieter, you almost ended up on TMZ with your cock being the whole bloody story” you choke out with a sigh.

“Say cock again” he says with a cheeky smile, opening his eyes for the first time since you got there.

“Dieter, it’s not funny. They were taking photos of you completely naked, if I got here just a few minutes later; they’d be all over Instagram and twitter by now.”

“Good thing you got here then” he says whilst scratching the patchy spots of his ragged beard, you watch him for a few moments, noticing the darker patches beneath his eyes and the way his hair is sticking up wildly. He is beautiful, undeniably so and your heart aches a little as you stare down at him. You’d started working for him a few weeks after his breakup with Anika – a beautiful young girl, who worked at the hotel he was quarantining in whilst filming an instalment of Cliff Beasts. He’d ended the relationship after catching her in bed with one of his co-stars from the next movie he signed on for. He didn’t really speak about the situation much, but it was clear that she had broken his heart and it sent him on a bit of a spiral and his drug use had gotten out of control.

A mutual friend had approached you about the job and you’d reluctantly agreed and now a year and a half later; his career is continuing to bloom but his personal life is in tatters. You worked endlessly to ensure that every scandal or comprising situation he had got himself into didn’t make it to the press, and it was exhausting.

You gave him a small smile before walking over to his walk-in closet and pulling out some sweatpants and his favourite green robe, “Get dressed and come down. I’ll start tidying up. Do NOT go back to sleep or so help me Dieter, I’ll… yeah, get dressed” you say with a stern look on your face as you hand him his clothing.

“I’m up, baby” he counters back.

“Yeah, so I’ve seen” you mutter as you exit his room.

“Did you like what you saw, sweet girl?” he shouts to you, and you laugh loudly at his lack of decorum.

How many people were in his house last night? You think to yourself as you bag up the seemingly endless amounts of trash and load up his dishwasher, feeling grateful that they’d had the sense to move on to plastic cups before using every piece of glass-wear in his cabinets.

You filled four trash-bags by the time he had made it downstairs. You watch him from the corner of you eye as he immediately goes to his refrigerator and gulps down a gallon of orange juice straight from the container, “I ordered breakfast” he announces between sips.

“It’s technically lunchtime” you inform him whilst placing a bunch of liquor bottles in the recycling box underneath his sink.

“Brunch then” he says with a smirk, “So how was your evening? As eventful as mine?”

You can’t help the way your lips twist in annoyance at his question, you’d spent the evening before curled up on your sofa eating leftover Chinese food and attempting to reason with a woman that Dieter had fucked a few weeks previously, trying to convince her not to sell the video of Dieter eating her pussy to a company that distributes celebrity sex tapes to every porn site known to man.

You’d managed to get her to agree, offering her $12,000 more than the company after the video. You immediately had his legal team go to her home and have her sign the NDA and a contract confirming that she wouldn’t distribute any copies herself and another to legally say that all copies had been deleted after they stood behind her and watched her do it. Not quite as exciting as spending the evening drinking with Dieter, his Hollywood buddies and a bunch of desperate wannabes trying to latch on him and his friends for a bit of fame.

“$47,000” you replied sharply, and he raised his eyebrow, “That’s the amount you had to pay Crystal so she wouldn’t sell the video. That’s how my evening was… Spent trying to convince her not to fuck up your career.”

“She came like 4 times… Hardly wo-“

“Dieter, it’s not a joke. The franchise you’ve just signed with would have dropped you in an instant if they caught wind of it. It’s a huge fucking movie deal. Fuck, even cliff beasts doesn’t even rival this shit.”

You watch as he winces at those two words, the memories of the shit that went down mixed with the heartbreak of Anika, making that whole movie a sore spot for him.

“I’m sorry” you say as you realise your mistake, “Just I know how bad you wanted this role. You told me it was the first book you read in English, and you’ve come so far, Diets. I don’t want anyone to fuck this up for you… including yourself.”

He clearly marvels at your words before the doorbell rings and then he bounces off towards the door to collect the food delivery he had ordered, whilst you continue to work through the mountains of mess.

“Do I not pay people to do that?” he says as he watches you scrub the counters with bleach, dropping the bags of food next to you.

“Clara isn’t working today, and she’s not employed to clear up after your parties. God knows, you’re not paying her enough to be doing this shit. You’re certainly not paying me enough.” He lets out one of his signature raspy laughs and you throw the rubber gloves you’d been adorning into his sink and wash your hands before pulling a breakfast burrito from the paper bag.

You eat in a comfortable silence, with the occasional giggle slipping from your mouth as he gets his food all down his front.

You never seem to notice the affect your laugh has on him, especially the giggling, the way he immediately smiles so largely that his dimple makes an appearance or the way his shoulders get a little tense as a warmth spreads through his whole body. You never ever notice.

“Why do you never come to my parties?” he asks and his lip twists as he awaits your answers.

“Working for you is a 24/7 job, Diets. Also, you never ask me to come. I don’t think you’ve ever once invited me to a party” you admit with a shrug as you eat the last few fries at the bottom of the bag.

“I don’t invite anyone… people just come. Sometimes, I don’t even know why they came. They bang the door and before I know it – there’s a party!” he says voice void of any emotion.

“You can say no, Dieter, send them away.”

“Yeah, but by the time they come… you’ve gone home and I’m alo-“and before he can finish, he’s cut off by the doorbell ringing for a second time and he’s out of the kitchen rushing to open it.

The voice that quietly rings through the hall and down into the kitchen, is a voice you know very well. Auggie. The delivery boy of Dieter’s dealer. They engage in general chit-chat and act as if though they’re not doing extremely illegal dealings in the middle of the day; at Dieter’s front door before he wishes him a good rest of the day and is skipping back into the kitchen; robe pockets filled with little baggies of white powder.

“Dieter” you say with a disappointing groan, knowing your words will go in one ear and out the other, so you elect to not say anything else.

He presses a quick kiss to your scalp before grabbing a bottle of water for you both from his refrigerator, “Come to my next party”.

“No” you reply bluntly whilst taking the bottle from him, “I see all the shit that goes down at them from the videos that I’m trying to contain… I don’t need to see you get sucked off in person” your voice is accidentally laced with an obvious pang of jealousy, and you gage the look on his face for a few seconds trying to work out whether he picked up on it.

“Mhmm. Well, we can have our own little party right here. Right now,” he suggests with a wink, “It’ll be fun, we can have a few drinks, take a dip in the jacuzzi-…”

“Multiple had sex in your jacuzzi last night and the pool boy is having to drain it. There is something clogging the filter” you interject with a slight poke to his chest, “Dieter, we need to talk about next week… It’s going to be busy. You’re expected in five cities over two days AND you’ve got a cover shoot, as well as all-”

“Baby” he says whilst pushing his finger to your lips in a shushing motion, “When was the last time you let your hair down?”

A long sigh escapes your lips, and you step back from him and run your hands across your face, “Dieter, this isn’t a joke AND no” you shout as he attempts to cut in, “don’t you dare interrupt me, Bravo. Sure, would it be nice to spend an evening away from my couch? Yes. But I can’t. Some of us need to be on the ball all the time, Dieter, I have to be on high alert all the time and it’s fine… I love it. I love y-… I love working for you. And yes, I’m fully aware that I have zero social life, I don’t remember the last time I had sex… Heck, I don’t remember the last time, I had time to pull on my vibrator and fuck myself and I can just feel everything slipping away from me… shit” you exclaim, replaying back the outburst that you had not expected to fly out of your mouth. Shit. You look over at him and he’s stood with a shocked expression etched across his handsome face, fuck, “I’m sorry, I don’t know where that came from.”

He nods his head and gives you a small pitiful smile, before walking back to the fridge and pulling out a bottle of wine and a beer, “No party? Just two friends, sitting down and having a comfortable drink instead?” And he pulls a wine glass from the cupboard.

You nod and he points you towards his sofa, and you shake your head, “Living room is still filthy.”

“Bedroom it is” he announces as he pushes you towards the stairs and you climb them in front of him. His bedroom had become the place where you spent most of your time at his house, sat cross legged at the end of his bed whilst he nurses a hangover or just lays there too lazy to get up and go downstairs, so you don’t mind the suggestion.  You climb down on to your usual spot, and he snuggles back down to where he had been laying less than an hour earlier.

He pours you a large glass of wine and you draw small circles with your fingertips on his ankle that he dropped into your lap, “You’d have a good time, you know?”

A small hum leaves your mouth and smile up at him, “I’ve heard the stories about your legendary shindigs, Dieter, cleaned up the aftermath of many of them… I know I’d have fun.”

“But you won’t come?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. Let’s get Croatia out of the way and the first movie filmed and we will discuss it then” you answer with a shrug.

“Holding you to that” he mumbles before fiddling around with his robe, pulling out a small bag of white powder and setting it up on a tray next to his bed, “One moment.”

This is something you’d witnessed multiple times before; it wasn’t the first and it certainly wouldn’t be the last time he had snorted cocaine in front of you. The very first time being the first day you had met. He makes a loud grunt as he snorts the powder and his face contorts for a few moments… “Jesus, that’s different” he utters aloud.

“Are you okay?” you reply instantaneously, and he replies with a smile and a wink… “What does it feel like?” you ask quietly.

“You’ve never done cocaine? Ever?” he asks sounding a little more shocked than you had expected, “It’s fucking dope.” He starts to wriggle, and his posture starts to change and the next few words that come flying out of your mouth manage to shock you both.

“Can I try?” you gulp loudly.

“I mean… if you’re sure… are you sure?” he asks still wriggling around uncontrollably.

“Yes, but just once” and you watch as he separates a tiny line of white powder on the tray just for you before tentatively passing it over to you.

“Just the small line, snort quickly. But only if you’re sure, baby” he says as he pulls the same throw from earlier across his lap.

You snort it quickly and he watches the entire time, keeping an eye on you, whilst attempting to relieve some of the pressure building up between his legs.

What the fuck is happening? He thinks to himself. Watching you snort a line of cocaine, whilst sat in the spot he loves you most. From your sudden need for corruption, and his cock suddenly getting hard in his pants he’s not sure what’s going on. He had taken care of his morning wood before joining you, and honestly, he fisted his cock with you in mind the entire time. But this was different. A slight high from the drug had started to rip through him but it was quickly replaced with an insatiable thirst. His whole body burning with desperate need as he watched you sit sweetly at the end of his bed. What the fuck is happening?

You’re not really sure what to expect, you grimaced at the sharp pain that flooded your nostril after snorting the powder but nothing else seemed to be happening. You look over at Dieter who’s running his hands back and through his hair as he watches you intently, never for a second taking his gaze off of you and then it happens.

A sharp pain shoots straight through you and to your core, an intense pressure building and the need for relief unbearable. You squirm uncontrollably as you press your thighs tightly together as your body begins to writhe around, “What the fuck, Dieter?” you gasp out as you fight the urge to pull up your dress and shove two fingers inside of yourself.

“Fuck” he grits out as he realises that you’re having the same reaction, “I don’t know what’s happening, baby. Need some fucking relief.” He chokes out as he begins to palm himself through his sweatpants.

You squeeze your legs together even tighter, desperate to feel a little friction on your clit and begin to rip the sundress and underwear your wearing clean off your body. Your hands instantly squeezing at your tender breasts, and pinching at your nipples, completely uncaring of the fact your boss is a few feet away from you watching your every move.

“Fuck, baby, fuck” he grunts as he rips the throw off of his legs and frees his cock from his sweatpants, pumping it furiously as he watches you writhe around at the bottom of his bed, “fuck I need to fuck you, sweet thing” he grits out as one of your hands finds its way to your clit and you start to choke out broken moans as you desperately rub circles in your bundle of nerves, providing just an ounce of the relief your body is screaming for.

“Tell me how good it feels?” Dieter demands and you head swings over in his distraction and you practically salivate at the sight of his stroking his cock relentlessly, “Tell me.”

“So good! Fuck, your cock is so fucking thick, Dieter… shit. What the fuck is that stuff?” you mumble as the desire raging through your veins grows stronger and stronger.

“It’s just fucking coke” he mutters, “I think… that’s what I fucking asked for… fuck they must have cut it with something new.”

You focus all of your attention on bringing forward the orgasm that you’re craving, needing, and finally it tears through you, you throw your head back and continuing to slowly play with your pussy as you pass through your orgasm.

“What the fuck, Dieter?” you ask, basking in the short afterglow for a few moments before a thought comes steamrolling into your mind, “Did you… did you fucking plan this?”

He’s still furiously pumping his cock, eyes flickering up and down the length of your body as he does so, unable to talk or stop himself until hot ropes of cum start to shoot out of the swollen tip of his cock.

He moans your name throughout his high, and you feel a slight burning begin to flood back to your core. Your pussy dripping with arousal and before you have time to register it happening the desperate need consumes your whole body and your desperately pawing at yourself.

“I didn’t plan this, I don’t fucking know what’s happening, baby” you hear him repeat over and over, and you watch as he resumes stroking himself with fury… the previous orgasm doing nothing to soften his rock hard dick.

You begin pumping two fingers in and out of your heat, trying to reach that spot up inside you that’ll satiate some of the need coursing throughout you. Your eyes glued to Dieter and his throbbing length, wanting so desperately to be split open by him, “Fuck me” you choke out, “Fuck me, Dieter, please… Fuck me” you beg over and over, as he grinds his teeth, trying to hold himself back from thrusting himself into you.

“Can’t… don’t want you to think -fuck-, I planned this… Can’t having you thinking I’d do that to you, baby” every word is met with a groan between it, and the sight of you aggressively fingering your dripping wet pussy comes to much and he cums a second time, his pleasure spurting across the bedsheets.

“Won’t fuck you,” he mutters, “But I’ll help you, baby… if you want” and you nod keenly as he moves himself closer to you.

“Fuck” he murmurs, looking down at your glistening pussy as he spreads your legs for him. He rips away your frantically moving hand and you sob out from the loss, but before you can argue or push it back he bends over and licks a wide strip through your pussy, before sucking on your clit and pushing two of his deliciously thick fingers inside of you, pumping in and out, searching for that spot inside of you until you gasp his name out in pleasure. You lose count of the amount of times he makes you cum with his mouth, sucking and licking through your folds as he keeps his fingers in your heat. His head resting on your thighs between orgasms, and immediately diving back in when you’re ready for him.

The sheets beneath you saturated and sopping wet with a combination of both of your come, his hand free aggressively pumping his shaft to provide him some relief from the unrelenting burning inside of you both.

You had both began to notice the longer periods of relief after every orgasm, but the fire wasn’t ready to flame out yet and you needed him inside of you. Desperately. And honestly, you’d needed him for a lot longer than today… “Dieter,” you whisper, “I know you didn’t plan this, baby, I know. I’m sorry for assuming the worst in you” you moan aloud as his tongue starts to flick over your clit again, “baby, please, please fuck me. I need you inside of me… really fucking want you, really, really need you.”

He reluctantly pulls his face away from your pussy, but not before sucking your clit a few more times and moving up your body. His knees placed either side of your hips, he looks down at you, your chest heaving up and down and face as sweet as he’d ever seen it, murmuring his name as he took you in.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, baby” he says with the most sincerity you think you’ve ever heard him speak with, “Have not been able to stop thinking of this gorgeous face since I first saw you.”

And then his hand gently cups the side of your face and he’s pulling you in for a kiss. And it’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced. It’s soft but giving and the way his tongue dances against yours makes you moan into his mouth. Every stroke of his tongue, every gentle nibble on your lips is like paradise, the scruff of his beard scratching the soft skin of your face makes you mewl. You kiss for as long as you can, until the unrelenting need starts to hurt, and then he situates himself and sheathes inside of you in a single thrust.

You’re still dripping with arousal and the countless orgasms had made you slick enough for him to easily push inside of you. The stretch of him makes you wince, and he immediately stills, ignoring his need for relief and studying your face with an intensity, “Are you okay, baby?”

“Yeah, good, really good. You’re just fucking big, Dieter” you gasp out place a hand of his ass and give it a slight slap in encouragement, “I need you to move.”

“Fuck, okay, baby” he mutters, and he starts gently rocking his hips, barely pulling out of you until and you start to plead and beg for him to go faster, and the look on his face tells you there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for you.

The pace and precision this man fucks with is outstanding, every movement is perfectly calculated, and he grinds into that spot inside of you without missing every time, “How’s it feel baby?”

“So, fucking good, Dieter, so fucking good.”

“Rub your clit for me” he orders, and you mewl at his sharp raspy drawl; your hand snaking between your bodies to obey his demand.

The filthy noises he makes as he pounds in and out of you, between praising your body and talking about how sweet and perfect your cunt is, goes straight to your core, and the adding element of your fingers rubbing your clit so perfectly makes your orgasm tear through you. Your walls gripping onto his length as you clench around him like a vice makes him wince, the tightness of your cunt milking him of his cum at dragging his climax free and the same time you reach your own. The feeling of his seed painting your walls provides you with the most relief you’d felt from any orgasm.

He drops down on top of you, making sure his arms take the brunt of his weight and he nuzzles his face into your neck before licking up to your mouth and pulling you in for another kiss.

Breaking free of the kiss you both agree he needs to contact his dealer and find out exactly what was still coursing through both of your bloodstreams. He rolls off of you and you groan at the loss of his hard cock inside of you. He reaches over to the nightstand to grab his phone and dials his dealers’ number, and you listen to the conversation… The delivery driver had two drop offs – first to Dieter and then another. The drugs had somehow gotten mixed up and instead of the usual cocaine delivery, Dieter had received a drug intended for a sex party, the powder being made of a potent chemical that enhances your sex drives tenfold. Side effects including intense pain and severe loss of inhibitions. The drug in small quantities can last for 6-12 hours but consumed in larger can last for days.

You’re not entirely sure of how long it had been since you had taken the drugs, but you were sure you both had at least a few more hours before it was out of your systems.

By the time the call had ended, your mouth had wrapped around Dieter’s cock, and you were hollowing your cheeks as you attempted to take as much of him in your mouth as you possibly could. He didn’t even say goodbye when hanging up the phone, just ending the call so he could let out the strangled moan he had been keeping lodged at the back of his throat.

“Fuck, baby” he grunts as he started to fuck himself up into your mouth, rocking his hips from underneath you and groaning in approval every time you gagged around him. The burning desire was making you squirm and squeeze your thighs together, but you were determined to make him fill the back of your throat before you seek out your own pleasure. Thankfully, it doesn’t take long, and he’s shaft in pumping the back of your throat and coating your tongue in his salty goodness. You swallow as much of him as you can, but you feel his come and a mixture of your saliva drip down your chin with every thrust.

You release him with a loud pop, and lick lazily across his swollen tip a few times before straddling him and slowly lowering yourself down onto him, wincing once again at the stretch.

“Fuck” you mumble as you rock slowly back and forth, “Can’t tell you the amount of times I thought about you like this… Rubbing my clit to the thought of your beard scraping against my thighs.”

“Yeah? You think about me when playing with that pretty little pussy, baby?” he asks and you take in the sex drunk expression on his face, he looks utterly wrecked and you feel a pang of pride at doing this to the Dieter Bravo.

“Every single time I make myself cum.”

You increase the pace in which your grinding into him and he grips your hips and encourages you to bounce up and down, fucking up into you as you do, “Look at my good girl” he grits out between his teeth, “MY good girl… No one else gets to fucking touch her again.”

The unexpected and sudden possessiveness he begins to display makes your pussy clench around him, hearing him refer to you as his girl driving you insane.

“Nobody but you” you purr back at him and his eyes flash with a new kind of hunger, a softer but more powerful kind than the one that had pulled you together.

“You’re coming to the next party, and everyone after that” he tells you, hand cupping your face and making you look into his eyes as you continue bouncing up and down on his cock, “I need to show my beautiful girl off to everyone.”

“Yeah?” you ask softly, “You could just be saying this because we’re under the influence of a sex drug, baby?”

“Nope. I meant it when I said you’re all I think about… Just never imagined someone like you could want someone like me” he says with a slightly sad smile, “I guess you could say I’ve been under the influence of something stronger than any drug… since the day I met you… I’ve been under the influence of love.”

“Dieter FUCKING Bravo, did you just quote that shitty cash grab romcom you were in, to me?”

“…Yes.”

You roll your eyes and pull him in for another kiss. Unsure of how many more times you fucked that day until the drug had eventually left your system, having to pull him in to a spare room to sleep on a bed that wasn’t completely drenched in you both.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #dieter bravo #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x female reader #dieter bravo x f!reader #the bubble #the bubble fanfiction #my fanfiction #my fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction

[slutforavatar]

“Thank Eywa”

Neteyam x Human!Reader

Warnings: fluff, Neteyam being a sweet bby 😌

Y/n is human meaning she needs a mask to breathe on Pandora, or so everyone thought.

“Come on tayem” i groan as I grab his arm and i try to pull him up off the ground “‘m’to tired” he groans I scoff “you’ve had enough beauty sleep now get up I wanna go on for a ride” he pulls his arm out of my hand and opens his eyes “fine” he rolls his eyes then sits up slowly. I smile in victory as we walk towards his Ikran “I own you, your my little pet now” I laugh referring to how he listened to me about going for a ride “oh shut it you skxawng” he rolls his eyes then jumps on his Ikrans back while my feet are still flat on the ground “a little help please” he chuckles then jumps off his Ikran “what would you do without me y/n” he places his hands on my waist then lifts me up effortlessly so I can get on Ikrans back then he jumps back on.

I close my eyes as I feel the wind blowing through my hair, what I would do to feel the Pandorian air blowing on my face, to feel free but no I was stuck in my little human body with this mask stuck on my face, I sigh and I slump my body down and it’s like Neteyam read my mind “whats wrong y/n?” he slows down the Ikran “nothing” I perk back up, not wanting to ruin the day. I lean back on his chest as we speed up again, I sigh once again, I’ll never be able to smell his scent, breathe the air of Pandora and Neteyam cant even touch my face. Neteyam and I have been friends since forever, I was found hiding under a broken tree branch outside of the forbidden shack just as a child and the Sully family immediately took me in. Me being a few months younger then Neteyam made us click instantly we’ve been bestfriends since the moment we met, but lately I’ve been wanting to be more then friends I want to be his number one girl, his mate, his partner but because of my stupid demon blood we’ll never be compatible and I hate myself for it.

“Y/n we’re here, grab your stuff and follow me” Im bought out of my thoughts by Neteyams soft voice “yup” I mumble quietly as I grab my testing kit. “Woah look at this” my voice echos through the dark cave thats dimly lighten by neteyams noen bodys glow, I walk over to the clay paintings on the walls “these must be hundreds maybe even thousands of years old” I stare at the paintings in awe, I run my fingers over the smooth paintings as I take them in, its a painting of an Omaticayan family, 4 kids and 2 parents I smile “y/n quickly look!” I hear neteyams voice echo and I walk towards him, hes looking up at the roof of the cave and I follow his gaze. “Oh my” my jaw drops as my eyes meet the sight of illuminating purple crystals “its…it’s beautiful” I laugh softly, I reach over into my bag to grab a small tester tub to take back to the lab, I reach up to grab a piece of the crystal and to my luck a piece breaks off in my hand, a wide smile spreads across my face “teyam look” i reach my hand out to show him the crystal in my hand. But then pieces of crystal starts falling from the cave roof, one hits the glass mask i am wearing shit. It crackled the glass, I look over at neteyam as worry spreads across my face, he rushes over to me “shit shit y/n we need to get you back to the lab and get you a new mask, take small breaths okay” he grabs my hand and drags me towards the Ikran, I take a deep breath and i feel fine? I take another and another and I’m still fine? “Neteyam..” he turns to me, worry written all over his face “what is it” he quickly pulls me close to him and inspects my face “I can breathe fine” I take another deep breath, he raises an eyebrow “what do you mean?” I feel his big hand placed on my bare back and my face flushes “i dont need my mask, i can breathe finw” i giggle loudly “w-what i dont understand” he stands back and looks at me confused, I move my hands to the mask then I rip it off my face “i dont know how I can survive without it but i dont need it” i smile widely. I look up and I see the 8ft blue boy approaching me, his tail swinging side to side like crazy and he grabs my face and pulls me closer to him then crashes his lips on mine, i stand in shook, my eyes wide open and my body frozen. My bestfriend is kissing me. He is kissing me. I then close my eyes then I kiss back, our lips molding together, his soft lips connecting with mine ignites a fire inside me. He runs his tongue across my lips and my heart skips a beat but then he pulls away, I look up at him confused “Thank Eywa now I can kiss you all I like and theres no mask stopping me” He smiles widly then crashes his lips back on mine.

Part 2??

Very short one but I am tired its 5am and I haven’t slept sorry 🥲

#neteyam imagine #avatar way of water

[lis-likes-fics]

Pre-Symbiotic

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Symbiote!Reader Warnings: Threats, lesbian symbiote, mentions of sex... I mean, someone gets deepthroated by a giant tongue.... A/N: I really liked writing for this character, so Havoc may end up being a reoccurring character for any of my stories (although, she’s more likely to tether closer to Natasha). Also, this is basically a prequel to my other oneshot ‘Symbiotic’ (hence the name). Enjoy. Thank you! :)

"Y/L/N, can you hear me?"

The scratchy sound of the intercoms were faint in your ear, fading in and out as the voices of the team tried to reach you.

Cold concrete pressed against your skin, dirt and sweat and grime covered your body as you lay there still. There was a high pitched squeal in your ear that was dulling with each passing second. Your body felt both numb and overly sensitive to everything around you all at the same time as you slowly came to.

You opened your eyes first, heavy lids blinking as you looked around you. The air felt wavery, a combination of ice cold and increasingly getting hot. You looked around, your eyes moving slowly than you would have thought was possible as you caught sight of the small, but growing, fires scattered around the room.

You focused on your body, slowly coming back to full consciousness as you wiggled your fingertips, then your toes. You managed to adjust your wrists, waving it to bring feeling to your body. Goosebumps rose along your skin, your body aware of something that your mind was not. Soon, you were able to move your arms and legs enough to try to stand to your feet.

Your mind still followed behind everything else, your body moving on autopilot as its first instinct to figure out where you were and examine the things in the room. You were unaware of the intercom that had fallen from your ear, leaving behind the voices trying to each you.

You looked around, your hands patting you down in search of wounds to see how much healing it needed to do. Despite the chaos around you, you were without a single scratch. Your eyes scanned the room and found a large tank that looked like it was supposed to house some sort of animal, although it was barren, a sterile box of now-broken glass and reflections of light.

Ad you stepped closer, you glided your thumb along the glass to feel a slime-like substance on the surface. You scrunched your nose and wiped the substance on your pant-leg. As you looked down, you realized you were suited up. It helped to catch your mind up with your body, helped you remember where you were and why you were here.

There had been a strange report about some experiments regarding less-than-savory creatures from other planets. The experiments were being performed by people of... less-than-savory intentions and the Avengers were alerted. You were on a mission with the team to retrieve the creature and the experiments surrounding it when everything had gone wrong. You were directly in charge of retrieving the creature when an explosion in your area had disrupted everything.

With the sudden recounting of events, you realized the main problem here. Not that you were now lost and probably trapped on that room, but that the creature was now missing. You looked around the room frantically, muttering a string of 'oh shit's under your breath.

"Y/N."

You let out a shout at the sudden intrusion in your head. A voice in your head, distorted and deep, sounded in your mind. It was loud and almost gargling, like some creature in a horror film. You stood still as you looked around for a source of the voice, speaking barely about a whisper, "What was that?"

"Not what. Who," the voice replied, making you jumped in surprise.

"No. No, absolutely not. Please don't tell me I'm insane now," you said, moving to sit on the ground as you cradled your head on your knees.

"You are not insane, Y/N," the voice replied. "You are evolved."

"What kind of cheesy movie line is that? What do you want and what are you?" you spoke, massaging your temples.

"You need to get up and leave the room. The building is falling and your friends are looking for you," she said.

"What are you?" you replied in a tired voice.

Suddenly, a tar-like substance began to seep out of your skin, coating you in this dark violet thing. The substance slid over you and moved to gather on your back. Your eyes widened as you felt a weight suddenly grow at your back as whatever it was in your head turned into an inky creature that now stared at you. Its face was curled in a large, toothy grin (that were really just fangs), its eyes were pale and stretched along its face with another curl at the end.

"We are Havoc, Y/N," she smiled.

You were about ready to pass out, even falling backwards as your head spun. The creature only sat you back up, not allowing you to have your way. "Freak out later. I need you to live."

It disappeared back into your body, and you let out a very uncomfortable groan. "Oh, my god. I have a parasite."

"Parasite!" the creature yelled, suddenly taking hold of your body and pushing you to your feet. It then rushed you forward, running you into a table fallen on its side. You groaned at the contact it made with your stomach, bending over as you wheezed. "Apologize!"

You shook your head as you coughed, "You're not helping your case."

"If it were not for me, you would be dead," she told you venomously.

You sighed and shook your head, "Great, now I'm being gaslit by the alien stealing my body."

"We must go, or you will die," she said again. You sighed and looked around the room for your intercom, bending down and wiping it off as you put it back in your ear.

"Hello?" you asked through it to see if anyone was listening.

A flurry of voices came to your ear as the team's relief flooded through the line. "Y/N, where are you? Are you hurt?" Natasha's voice spoke up, catching your attention more than the others.

"I'm in the containment room where the creature was held."

"Havoc," she corrected you.

You rolled your eyes, "I think I'm trapped in. I need help." Just then, a loud rumble was heard as the ground shook. The creature, Havoc, was right. The building was collapsing.

"Stark, go her way. We're heading to the jet to be ready for takeoff," Steve commanded.

"Copy that," Tony replied before cutting out. It was not long before you heard Tony's voice cut in again for your specific com. "Move to a corner."

You did as told as you ducked under something. You shielded yourself as the ceiling was blown away by Tony's weapons, creating a gaping whole for him to descend into. He opened his helmet and motioned for you. "C'mon, unless you want to be a pancake."

You rolled your eyes and he picked you up bridal style before carrying you away just as the building began to fall. He flew you to the jet, setting you on your feet when you were both safely placed. Natasha came running to you, inspecting you for injuries and taking your face in her hands. "Are you alright? Why didn't you respond?"

You gave her a reassuring smile, taking her wrists in your hands and moving to kiss her forehead. "I'm fine. I'm okay, are you?"

She nodded and sighed before punching your shoulder. You held it tightly, giving her an annoyed look, "Ow! What was that for?"

She gave you an angry look before marching off to sit down, "You scared me, you bitch."

You rolled your eyes and gave another smile, going to sit next to her as you apologized. "I'm sorry. I... had an issue, but I'm fine."

She looked at you, her brows still furrowed in anger but calmer now that she knew you were okay... for the most part.

Your thoughts were interrupted as Havoc's voice cut through. "She's hot."

You whisper-shouted to her through your teeth, "Shut up!"

"What?" Natasha questioned, giving a confused look. "I didn't say anything."

You shook your head, "No, not you. I'm sorry, talking to myself."

The rest of the ride home was filled with you trying to ignore Havoc's constant questioning so you did not repeat the same apologies to everyone about why you were talking to yourself.

When you got home, you made an excuse to lock yourself in your room and stood there, your hands raised as you pointed in any general direction. "Okay... Am I dying?"

Havoc suddenly sprouted from your back again, rounding to look at you, "No. But now you have me." You almost jumped, momentarily scared about the sudden monster in your face.

You pinched the bridge of your nose and wiped a hand down your face. "Why are you here? And why did you choose me?"

"You were alive, and I was separated from everyone else," she said.

"Hold on, there's more of you?"

"Yes, but I am looking for Venom."

"Okay, so all of your names are just related to chaos?" you questioned. She just nodded instead of responding verbally. "Who is Venom?"

"My brother of sorts."

"Oh, so you have family. That's so cute. Go find him and leave me alone!" you whisper-yelled to her.

"I cannot. I need a host. You are stuck with me now," she told you. "We shall find him together."

"No... No, no, no, no," you shook your head. "I am not dealing with more of you!"

She groaned, "If you do not want to find Venom, you could at least feed me."

You collapsed on your bed, putting a hand on your forehead as you huffed, "Don't tell me you eat, like... brains or something." You chuckled lightly, shaking your head.

She did not respond, her face just staring back at yours. Your face fell and you clenched your jaw, "Don't tell me you eat brains or something."

She looked away from you for a moment before turning her gaze back to your face. "I eat brains or something."

You both sat in silence before you stood up, "I'm going to jump out of the window." She caught a hold of your body and sat you back down. "Is there a specific reason why you need brains? I'm not having brains for dinner!"

Your frustration was evident in the way you spoke to her and she nodded. You sighed to calm yourself, at least there was a reason, since nothing else had a reason.

"I need phenethylamine," she said. "It is found in brains."

You shook your head and grabbed your phone to dial Tony's number. He picked up, answering slowly, "I'm right down the hall. Why are you calling me?"

"Don't worry about it. Do you know what phena... phelan...

"Phenethylamine," Havoc told you.

You sighed, "Phelenthymanine is?" Havoc just shook her head at you.

"Phenethylamine? It's a chemical found in brains and chocolate. Why?" he questioned.

"Do you have, like... supplements or something lying around?"

"Why?"

"Don't worry about it. Do you?"

"Yeah."

"Great, bring me a shit ton of that and chocolate," you told him, hanging up before he could protest.

She sunk back into your body and you shuddered. "I hate that."

"It is not as good when it is not fresh." Her voice was louder in your head now and you could feel her curling up, like she was ready to take a nap. "So we are good?" she asked.

"No, we are very not good," you told her, standing to your feet. "Look. I'm an Avenger, by now I would be a fool to think this would be a temporary solution or would end well if I tried to get rid of you by force. So we're going to laugh down ground rules to ensure that whatever this is doesn't escalate into something that could put myself or Natasha in danger. Or the rest of the team and civilians for that matter."

"I am listening..." she said expectantly.

You sighed, "First, no eating people. We aren't food, don't eat them. I got you your stupid drugs, so you have tk behave. Second, this stays between us. No one needs to know that I'm housing an alien that wants to eat them."

"I do not want to eat Natasha. She is hot," Havoc replied, her voice almost sassy.

You pointed in a general direction as you whisper-shouted, "And third, do not hit on my girlfriend! She's mine, not yours."

She scoffed, "The way I see it, I am you and you are me. We are one, and that means she is our girlfriend."

"Mine."

"Ours."

"If you cause any trouble for me or the rest of the team, we are learning your weaknesses through this Venom guy, and I am going to kill you," you told her, your voice definite as she sighed dramatically in your head.

"Fine. I will behave," she resigned, settling down.

There was a knock on the door and you pulled it open to find Natasha standing on the other side with a pill bottle in her hand. She was swayed to one side, her head tilted as she raised a brow. "Are you alright? You haven't kissed me since before the mission, and quite frankly I'm in need of some lovin'."

You found some of your stress leaving your body as you looked at her, her eyes still scanning over you. You realized you had not replied when her brow somehow raised higher and nodded, "I'm okay, I just needed to get my head cleared up is all." You held your hand out for the pills and she hesitated before handing them over to you.

"What do you even need these for? Tony said you're being weird again," she said, pushing past you to walk into the room. You turned to face her and shrugged, "It's nothing to worry about. Everything's under control."

"Liar," Havoc scolded.

She looked over her shoulder at you and gave a suspicious look. You walked over to her, tossing the pills to the side and setting your hands on her hips to bring her over. "I'm fine, baby," you told her. "It's not important." You pressed a kiss to her lips, a short one that made her sigh in annoyance. It was a sweet kiss, but she was obviously wanting a needy one.

You chuckled at her childishness, and she rolled her eyes and pushed you back. You smiled at her, earning a smile from her in return before she was suddenly pulling her shirt over her head. Havoc hummed and you fought the urge to yell at her.

Natasha tossed her shirt on a chair in the room and walked over to you, her arms sliding around your waist to pull you over. "You didn't think you'd be getting away that easily, did you?"

You could not resist her as you simply pulled her in to kiss her. You could hear Havoc in the back of your head, feel her writhing inside of you excitedly. You pulled away from Natasha's lips and gave her an apologetic smile, "Give me one second?"

You pulled away from her as her confused eyes followed you. You opened the bathroom door and locked it behind you, staring in the mirror and whispering to her again, "I'm going to need you to stay as far away as possible, alright? She is not an exception to the rule. Just because you now get to watch like some perverted thing, does not mean she is your girlfriend. Got it?"

She chuckled and hummed, "Mmm, say it again."

You paused and stared at yourself, shaking your head, "I'm going to jump out of the window." She probably found some sick corner of your mind where she could access your likes and dislikes (kinks included) and decided to be a little bitch and use it as some sort of joke.

She just scoffed, "Fine. I will stay away."

"Thank you," you said, before taking off your shirt and opening the door. You walked in stride over to Natasha waiting on the edge of your bed with a pout on her lips. You bent down, picked her up, and kissed her.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

You nodded, "I'm great."

~

It had been a few days since the mission. Everything was running smoothly. You had the supplements, the chocolates, and she was not as insistent on eating people anymore. You told her that if she behaved and you went on missions with particularly heinous people, you would let her have them, and she agreed.

No one questioned you on anything, although you talking to yourself sometimes was not unsuspicious activity. Natasha was the one who asked you the most about your well-being—but you did not expect anything less.

It was when a Friday rolled up and you were all having a team night together that the shit hit the fan.

Havoc had grown possessive of Natasha—much to your frustration at having to share your girlfriend—but you would just have to learn to live with it. It was at least good to know that she had protection from someone who could literally just bite off the heads of those who meant to harm her.

It was not useful when she was constantly trying to kill Bruce Banner for his attempts on your girlfriend. It was nice to have someone else who was as on board with the idea of hating him as you. Okay, maybe you did not have him, but you sure as hell did not like him.

He was overall respectful of the boundaries that were in place by both you and Natasha, but sometimes it seemed like he was wanted to get his ass beat. This was one of those times.

You had gone to the kitchen to grab a refill of popcorn and come back to see Bruce leaning over in Natasha's ear to tell her something. One look at her could see the tension in her shoulders, how they were squared off and almost moving to guard her neck as a vulnerable place in her body. She was turned slightly to the side to face him, her chin ducked in slightly.

"What? What is he doing? We should bite his head off! That should teach him," Havoc yelled, the rage and venom leaking from her voice.

You whispered, your jaw tight, "That would kill him."

"Like you would not mind," she accused, poison lacing her tone.

You rolled your eyes as you went to go save your girlfriend. You came around the couch and squished in between the two with a tight smile, setting the popcorn roughly in Bruce's lap and moving your arm to wrap around Natasha's shoulders.

"Hey," you leaned into her ear, whispering gently. "Are you alright?"

She nodded gently at you in reply, moving to kiss your lips. "My hero," she chuckled lightly. You smiled and closed the difference, giving her a quick kiss.

Bruce shuffled uncomfortably at how close you were sitting next to him and shifted away. You turned to him with an innocent look, as innocent as you could manage, "Oh, hey. Didn't see you there."

"Punch him."

"Shut up," you whispered back.

"I didn't say anything," Bruce muttered.

You shook your head, "Don't worry about it." You patted his shoulder a little too hard and then turned to talk to your girlfriend. She came out a little more until she was back to her normal self: sassy, cocky, and more than happy to flirt.

Havoc calmed, but you could feel her constantly trying to keep an eye on Bruce.

"What is he doing?"

She forced your head so you were looking at him as he walked away. You turned back to the others, "I don't know, and I don't care." You took a piece of chocolate from the bowl and plopped it in your mouth. "Behave."

When Bruce came back, you turned around when he tapped on Natasha's shoulder with a glass in his hand. He handed her the glass and she gave an awkward thanks to him. You grabbed the other glass and raised it to him, "You're a doll."

"He is doing this on purpose! If I cannot eat him, I should be able to throw him out of the window!" she yelled.

"No."

"Yes!"

"No."

"Just one time!"

"Behave and stop yelling at me."

"I am not yelling at you! I am yelling at him."

"He can't hear you."

"Well tell him that I am going to–" She began a very long and very graphic recounting of a line of violent events she wished to inflict on him. They were enough to draw actual faces from you as you reacted to them. You shuddered at one of the visuals she gave you that involved the removal of eyes.

"Oh my god, stop!" you told her, a little too loud as some of the team looked over at you. There was silence settling in the room as eyes were glued to you. You looked at them and said, "Stop making me laugh, Nat, or my face is going to start hurting." You started chuckling nervously before turning to Natasha. She gave you a confused look, looking you up and down before turning to look at Bruce again.

"You look like an idiot."

"It's your fault. Stop talking to me."

"Not until I can hit him really hard on the face."

"No, Havoc. Stop it."

She grumbled but kept arguing, and you missed the way Tony sidled next to Steve. "What's going on with her?" Steve asked, his eyes still on her with a raised brow.

Tony shrugged, "Dunno. She's been acting weird since the mission. We can look into it tomorrow. Maybe she just needs a nap."

Steve looked at him and scoffed, "She'll need one helluva a nap."

"Maybe she should take pointers from you," Tony joked before slapping a hand against his back and moving away. Both their eyes stayed on you, though.

Your argument with Havoc was interrupted when you looked over at Natasha and saw Bruce's head dipped down next to her face. He had announced how he was going to go to bed early, and you expected him to just leave. Instead, he had bent over and kissed Natasha's cheek.

Havoc grabbed a hold of your body before you could protest or encourage, your fist balling tightly and raising to your side. Natasha was quicker, her own fist forming as he punched Bruce across the face. He grunted, a hand coming to his cheek. Havoc did not leave it at that, swinging your own fist to hit him square across the jaw.

Natasha's had not even been as hard as she could have been, the hard punch only a warning for now. Havoc seemed like she was trying to remove his jaw from his face before you heard a tiny crunch, followed by continuous groans of pain.

"Y/N, I got it," Natasha told you, although not angrily. It was more like she was gently scolding a child, but against something she was not totally against.

Bruce's body was trembling, like he was fighting off the Hulk's transformation. His face was twisted in anger as he forced his jaw back into place. Everyone had stood up by now in defensive stances, panic crossing their faces.

"I know," you chuckled nervously. "Don't know what happened there." You turned to the side and whisper-shouted again. "Havoc, stop it! You got your hit, now go away."

"I think it is time to teach a lesson to Banner," she cackled creepily. Your eyes widened as the dark purple tar that was Havoc's skin slid onto your skin was like warm tar. You shuddered, wincing at the strange feeling as she took over your body. Milky white eyes followed a grotesque smile filled with giant, sharp fangs.

You felt like you were being lifted off the ground as her form grew, towering over everyone around you. 'Holy shit's of all kinds scattered around the room. Some of the team had stumbled back, some were looking for exits to get to their weapons. Natasha merely crouched down and grabbed at her gun, but did not draw it.

Bruce was no longer fighting off the Hulk. He was now just fallen back on the ground, fear crossing his face at the creature standing before him.

Havoc's slimy tongue curled over her face and a croaking sound came from her chest. "What the hell are you doing?" you yelled.

"Hush, my friend. I shall make it quick," she told you, stalking over to Bruce. He was trying to transform into the Hulk, but was having a considerable amount of trouble.

She loomed over him, tilting her head as she bent over his body. Her mouth opened wide, saliva stretching long and sometimes snapping to spray on his face. He yelled, raising a hand to shield himself from her.

"Y/N!"

Havoc turned from Bruce to look at Natasha with a tilt of her head. She took in the creature before her, brows furrowed as she gripped her gun tightly. "Natasha," Havoc smiled as she spoke in her distorted voice, moving from Bruce to stand at her full height before offering a wave.

Natasha tilted her own head at the gesture and raised a hand, waving back as she said. "What's your name?" she asked, holding a hand out to her.

Havoc moved away from Bruce so he could run off, the rest of the team joining in their suits as they stood in defense.

"We are Havoc."

Natasha hummed, "We? So Y/N's still in there?"

She nodded, "We are both here."

"Can I speak to her?"

"Why don't you speak to me?" Havoc asked, sitting down so she was more at Natasha's level. "I am just as fun as her. She is a buzzkill."

Natasha snorted, "Can't argue with that."

"Hey!"

"I just want to make sure she's good. Can I talk to her?" Natasha asked again. Havoc sighed and finally retreated to allow you control again. As she disappeared, you gasped for breath as you tried to get your bearings.

Natasha sighed and walked over to you, offering a hand as you took it gratefully. "Are you alright?" she asked.

You nodded, wiping a hand across your face as shuddering, "Don't like that. That was unpleasant."

"You will get used to it."

"Why didn't you tell me what happened?" she asked. "We could have helped. What's going on?"

She moved you to sit. You sighed, "I just... I just didn't want this to get blown out of proportion, and I didn't want to risk you finding out and deciding you don't want to be in a relationship with an unstable woman sharing a body with an alien."

"That is hurtful. She would love me if you let her meet me." You ignored her.

Natasha chuckled and rolled her eyes, "Y/N, you were only semi-stable before and I still adored you. I still do. I'm not leaving because now you have a body buddy."

"I don't like that," you scrunched your nose at the nickname.

"I do."

"Shut up."

She laughed and Tony slowly walked forward, "Is that why you needed the supplements?"

You nodded, "Yeah, it's either that or she eats you. Or... me."

Tony walked away to order Jarvis to stalk up, and you were surprised at how quick he was to just accept it. "Let me out."

"No."

"Please."

"No."

"Is she talking to you right now?" Natasha asked.

You nodded with a heavy sigh, your hands holding her as you stroked the back of her palms. "She wants to come out, but I don't trust her."

"You should. If I wanted to hurt you, you would already be dead."

"Because that's reassuring."

Natasha turned her head into your line of sight again to catch your attention. "What's she saying now?"

"She basically just threatened me," you told her.

"It is not a threat. It is a promise," she said. "I will take the body if you do not let me out."

You groaned loudly and let go of Natasha's hands to rub your temples. "Fine, but only for a second."

"Thank you." Havoc's form slid back into place as she sat down in front of Natasha.

"Alright, I'm gonna go," Clint left, not bothering to stick around in case anything happened. The rest of the team followed, already tired of the chaos. They would deal with it tomorrow.

"Hey, Havoc," Natasha greeted. "Is my girl alright in there?"

"She is a big baby."

"Hey!"

Natasha chuckled before she continued. "How long do you plan on sticking around? You a permanent addition?"

Havoc smiled, almost villainously, "I am your new girlfriend."

"Havoc, stop hitting on my girlfriend."

"S'that so? Can she hear me?" Havoc nodded. "Looks like you've got some competition, Y/N."

You wanted to be upset that she was teasing you, but you could not help your smile as you chuckled.

"With a tongue like that, you'll win me over in no time," Natasha smirked. You pouted then and Havoc just laughed at you.

"I am going to steal your bitch," she smirked at you.

"You cannot have her."

"Well, Y/N," Natasha sighed, as if she could hear you. "Since V's here to stay now, I think you're going to have to share."

"I cannot believe she just said that," you huffed.

"Ha ha!" Havoc exclaimed. "She is now our girlfriend, and you cannot do anything about it! You must be so upset right now."

"Havoc, be nice or I'll take it back," Natasha scolded her. You laughed at her as she grumbled.

"V, I'll give you more chocolate if you go away," you told her. She grumbled and disappeared again, and you found that you were, in fact, getting used to the shifts. So you sighed and looked at Natasha, giving a smile. "So we're good?"

She nodded with a smile, "Yes, we're good." She stood and held a hand out for you. You grabbed it and got to your feet and she told you, "Let's go to bed. You look terrible."

"She is right."

You laughed and rolled your eyes. She pulled you to her, a hand on the side of your face as she pulled you into a kiss. You smiled against her lips, tilting your head for the perfect angle. You were both caught off guard when you suddenly felt your tongue filling your mouth, getting bigger and longer as Havoc took control of it.

You felt her sliding the tongue into Natasha's mouth, slowly shoving it down her throat. Natasha was entirely surprised, a slight gag coming from her at the sudden intrusion. When Havoc pulled away, you both had to catch your breaths to recover from... whatever that was.

"Havoc, what the fuck?" you asked her.

"She loved it."

As if to confirm, Natasha looked over at you with wide eyes, pupils larger as the effects of being deepthroated by a giant tongue settled into her. "Yeah, we're sharing," she said, still catching her breath.

You rolled your eyes, mumbling something about her being a "kinky bitch" under your breath.

"I told you."

"Shut up, V."

Natasha took your hand and dragged you to your room, quite intent on exploring the extent of your new abilities with Havoc.

True Believer taglist: @xxromanoffxx​ @thelastpyle​ @likefirenrain​ @babypink224221​ @autisticbrie​ Red Ledger taglist: @ripleysupremacy180286 @nat-romanoffdanvers @nowthisisliving27 Red-Head taglist: @natasha-danvers​ Tag yourself here.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff x you #symbiote #female reader #reader insert #marvel #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #avengers fanfic #avengers fanfiction #avengers #fanfiction #fanfic #natasha x reader #black widow x reader #black widow

[heliads]

I shall make a return with my iffy requests, okay so maybe Tom!peter x male reader where the reader doesn’t forget who peter is? And they end up moving in together and reader comforts peter on all that he lost ?💞 you can very much take it from there or rearrange some things as usual ☺️❤️

your requests are not iffy they SLAY. also i'm glad that reader was able to make that choice not to forget, i respect that deeply

masterlist

The first thing you see is darkness. The second thing is a dim blur, hazed over by tears that must be someone else’s, for you don’t ever remember crying. When you open your eyes, though, the only person in sight is too far away for the salt to come from anyone else. The boy is crouched on the ground, looking at you hesitantly as if he is certain that one wrong move from him might shatter you like glass.

This is not just some boy, however. You blink your eyes once, twice, and then you remember. This is no stranger, this is Peter Parker. Your friend. Someone you value more than a friend. Someone you thought you were going to lose today, which is why you were crying.

You didn’t lose him, though. Peter is still here, and most importantly, he is still Peter to you. Details of what had happened earlier come slowly back to you, falling in place like a reversed video of a glass shattering on the floor. Peter was supposed to be gone. He made an awful sacrifice, which is so terribly like him, but one that should have spelled the end of you ever remembering who he was.

A spell. Yes, that was it. Peter had a fellow superhero, that Doctor Strange coworker of his, cast a spell to tie up all the loose ends scattered across the multiverse. It would stop everyone from pouring into your universe, but it would also call for an end to everyone’s memories of Peter Parker. Peter said it was worth it, though. Peter has always been used to giving things up, small bits and pieces of himself, to make a situation better again.

This was no small fragment of his time, however, this was something on a completely different level. This was Peter giving up everyone in his life that had ever known him. This was horrific, which is why you were crying. It was why everyone was crying, but now it’s just you and Peter on the rooftop, and you have no idea why.

That is the part you don’t remember. Not Peter himself, but where everyone went. Slowly, carefully, you force your mouth to give up on its silence and begin to formulate all of the questions you so desperately want answered.

“Peter?” you ask slowly.

It is just one word that you form, one name, two syllables, but to Peter Parker it might as well have been a thousand. You watch the relief clear his eyes of some unnameable burden. Peter has lost more than anyone should have to in their lives, and that sort of grief will hang about his shoulders until the day he dies, but at this moment, he is untouched by it. Plain happiness plays about his countenance, assuaging him of torment for the time being.

“Yeah,” he says in a sigh, “yeah, it’s me.”

You nod once. “I knew that. Why is that a surprise?”

Peter’s brow knits over again when he thinks about the reason, but it’s still not as bad as before. “The memory spell had to be cast to save the multiverse. Ned, MJ, everyone else, they don’t recall a thing about me. That’s why they’re gone, they wouldn’t have a single reason to be out here in the first place.”

Glancing around you, you realize that you’re still near the broken wastes of the Statue of Liberty. The fight must have just ended. In all likelihood, the spell was probably cast mere minutes ago. Your temporary confusion could only be the result of such powerful magic rebounding into the multiverse. It would throw anyone for a loop.

Still, that magic was supposed to affect you as well, and for some reason, it hasn’t. You want to ask more about why that is, but Peter remains so flinching, so afraid, that you find you don’t want to prod anymore and risk scaring him off.

Instead, you stand, wincing at the sudden rush of blood to your legs. “Alright, then. Let’s go make the best of that second chance.”

Peter blinks up at you, then nods, accepting your hand when you offer it to him and using it to pull himself up. The two of you pick your way over the rubble and back into the streets. Only once you’re back in the normal, salvaged city does Peter remember that he actually has nowhere to go.

“My apartment isn’t mine anymore,” he whispers, “May’s name is on the lease and–”

His voice cuts out abruptly, the words disappearing like static on a ruined cassette tape. Where there was once confidence, solidity, there is only now hesitation and empty gaps.

You speak quickly before he can get too lost in his own head. “Grab your stuff and move into my place.”

Peter stares at you. “Really? You don’t have to do that.”

You brush past the absurdity of that claim. “My apartment’s pretty quiet when it’s just me, I could use a roommate.”

There’s something else lingering there, nestled in the empty spaces of the sentence. Peter has gotten rather good at reading between the lines when it’s you speaking and him listening, so he doesn’t have to ask again why you’d want him there.

A few hours later, once Peter has managed to throw his essentials into several cardboard boxes and tote them over to your place, the two of you collapse on any and all available space in your apartment. Peter deserved a rest earlier, not a frantic move out of his only home, but if you didn’t move quickly, someone else would claim his stuff. That doesn’t make it any better, though. Not all reasons are good. Sometimes they just exist and you have to accept them for that anyway.

That day is easier to handle; mainly, the two of you are too exhausted to think about anything, least of all why you can remember Peter when no one else can. The next day is quiet, but on the third, the silence begs to be answered. You can hardly avoid its call, so you give in to your curiosity at last.

You and Peter are hanging listlessly off of your couch. The two of you had started off on opposite ends, but through seemingly accidental maneuvering, you’ve slowly but surely drifted towards the middle, towards each other.

You must be more uneasy than you thought, because halfway through a B-grade movie playing on one of the TV channels, Peter reaches over to mute the screen and turns to you. “What is it? You’ve been fidgeting for hours.”

You sigh with a smile, having been caught. “I’m just still thinking about the spell, that’s all.”

Peter nods. “It’s a fairly big deal. I’m surprised you haven’t asked more about it.”

You tilt your head towards him, acknowledging the truth in his words. “I didn’t want to push too much. It’s horrible to think about. I mean, no one else knows you as anything but Spider-Man, right?”

Peter hums in agreement. “All things Peter Parker are gone. My identity as Spider-Man stays, so people still remember that I’ve been wearing a mask and trying to save people, but nothing else. You’re the only exception.”

You frown slightly and pose another question to Peter. “So why do I remember you?”

Peter shrugs, one of his shoulders jerking up and down in tune with his staccato syllables. “I asked Stephen to keep you out of the spell.”

You arch a brow. “Easy as that?”

“Easy as that,” Peter affirms.

This doesn’t answer half as many questions as you’d like. “Why me, though? Why protect my memories as opposed to anyone else’s?”

Peter looks you dead in the eyes. For once, he is no longer uncertain. “I think you know.”

You don’t, which is worse. Peter sees that you don’t and turns away quickly, starts up a conversation on where he should put some moving boxes so he’s no longer doing parkour in an attempt to walk between his bedroom and the kitchen. The air is thick with unsaid things for a while, but then the tension evens out and all is well again.

You’re glad it is; you don’t know that you could handle a fight with Peter, not now. To know that he wanted you of all people here with him so he could survive the aftermath of the spell and then you went and stopped talking to him over something as simple as a mere squabble– no, it would destroy him. It would destroy you too because of that.

So you keep your questions to yourself, and you stop asking about the spell for good. Peter seems to relax after that, once he’s certain that you’re not going to make him explain himself anything more. After that, it’s easy to get lost in a map of trying to hear back from colleges and help Peter plan for a future in which all of his hard work in school and life has suddenly been unraveled from the very start.

It’s exhausting stuff. Peter has offered about a thousand times to go room with someone else or even by himself, to stop forcing you to carry all of his burden just because you’re the only one who remembers him. 

Every time, you deny his attempts to remove himself from your life. It’s the two of you against the world, you argue, and you aren’t going to let him cut himself out of your heart just because he feels guilty about it. He’s too much of a punishment, he argues. Not in the slightest, you reply, he could never be anything but a blessing. That makes him go silent every time, and usually Peter responds belatedly with something about how you’re the most impossible boy he’s ever known.

Recently, though, the silence morphs into something better, something warm that makes your chest heat up like drinking overheated broth. You don’t know how to describe it, that something, and it takes a month or two until it strikes you at last.

The two of you are sitting at the kitchen table in your shared apartment. The place has long stopped being just yours, but instead morphed into a home belonging to the two of you together. Peter is sighing over a job application and ruminating on why it’s so hard to be employed when you have no discernable history of having ever existed on this earth before.

“I’m such a pain,” he groans, then gives you that look of his, the one where he knows the response you’ll give before you even open his mouth. As if you were so easy to predict that he could say every word along with you. As if it is just as much of a joy to hear himself proved right every time.

“You’re my pain,” you answer, “my pain and mine alone. Don’t you even think about leaving me. I’m not letting you go just because you feel like being a martyr.”

Peter smiles indulgently. “I know,” he says, “I know.”

The pen slips to an ungainly angle in his hand, the muscles in Peter’s fingers relaxing the more he looks at you. You didn’t think you were thinking about much at the moment– you don’t have to when you’re around Peter, not really– but then a thought hits you in the midst of that quiet eternity and suddenly everything makes sense.

Under the humming light bulbs of your kitchen, jutting out of the semidarkness, you realize at last why Peter would want you to remember him and no one else.

Peter senses that a change has come over you, and he leans forward, causing the light to slip further forward over his forehead like a saint’s halo. “What is it?” He asks.

You just look at him. “I love you too,” you say simply, and it is all the answer Peter needs to finally be happy. He has been holding himself back from it all this time, you didn’t know that until now, but it is okay from here on out.

Peter reaches across your kitchen table and takes your hand, squeezing it in triplicate before returning to his application. It is not a loud confession, this. It does not take up room in screaming neon lights or kisses in the middle of thunderstorms. It is soft and plain and perfect. Neither of you have ever wanted anything more.

requested by @fadedver, i hope you enjoy!

marvel tag list: @namoreno, @rogueanschel, @thatfangirl42, @mycosmicparadise, @ellobruv, @callsign-scully, @with-inked-solace, @sher-lokid7, @amortensie, @23victoria, @watchreadfangirlrepeat, @gods-fools-heroes, @w1shes43, @deafsuperhero, @/fadedver

#peter parker #peter parker imagines #peter parker x reader #peter parker oneshot #spiderman #spiderman imagines #spiderman x reader #spiderman oneshot #marvel #marvel imagines #marvel x reader #marvel oneshot #mcu #mcu imagines #mcu x reader #mcu oneshot #avengers #avengers imagines #avengers x reader #tom holland spiderman #tom holland spiderman imagines #tom holland spiderman x reader #tom holland spiderman oneshot

[blankdblank]

Poke Snippet

…

“Oh no, surely you’re due,” she started to joke only to have her grin drop same as yours to the sight of the van and three bodies blocking the alley off.

Hank Pym between his daughter Hope and a man you knew to be Scott Lang stood in similar leathery getups. Hank was the first to speak in the abrupt silence, “I’ve heard the White Dove does one favor, I am aware this is sudden but-…” By the spike in your pulse, or the step MJ took to inch herself behind you triggering your arm to ease out in front of her chest, all around the five of you a pale blue mist erupted.

All of a sudden the five of you were dropped heavily onto a stone floor resembling marble not native to Earth. Glass walls and pillars of the same material in a watch tower like space filled with bodies, both standing freely in similar uniforms or those in different styles apparently trapped in containment beams held by star shaped floating drones. Right away you began to cough air back into your lungs, taking in what you could of this odd place with different alien races around your group. One boldly familiar in the bunch was Peter Quill trapped inside the beams.

“Hey!” he exclaimed before he could stop himself, “Long time no see!”

His smile dropped when the curly haired male guard across from him pointed at you asking, “You know them?”

“No,” Peter said shaking his head. Failing to try and protect you from being lumped in with him and his ragtag group.

Drax, the scarred shirtless body hovering beside Quill spoke up, “Long time no see means you have seen them before, Peter.”

“She’s just a kid from Earth I saw in a park last time I was there. Glad you got that cast off.”

The hologram of a tree like creature spoke its name, but you heard it speak clearly, “What is a cast?”

“A cast, she had a broken arm, some guy with a wrench attacked her.” Peter tried to explain.

Scott Lang was the first to ask you softly while they spoke about you, “Do you know them?”

“Dad, where are we?” Hope asked Hank whose eyes were still fixed upon your seemingly calm self. Adding in a sharp whisper, “All you said was to watch out if her eyes lit up! You never said she teleports!”

And the hologram of the raccoon beside the tree creature, all separated but able to interact here for some possible reason of leverage in threat of harm when apart you guessed, spoke up dropping MJ’s jaw against her try to keep stoic as you seemed to be doing for her and the others. “Now that’s a fair bit more back story than what you’d get out of seeing a kid in a park.”

“What happens when I get cornered in an alley nowadays.” You replied lowly.

“I just needed to ask you a favor.” Hank tried to defend himself.

Drax nodded and a hologram of a blue woman with black eyes yet to be named Nebula spoke up, “That is no child of Terra, Peter. She is lying to you.”

“By cornering me in an alley?” you challenged him as your eyes swiveled over the guards who weren’t certain what exactly to do with this.

Gamora nodded at that, “No human has those eyes.” she agreed at the shared knowledge of even pink Kree being born with purple eyes.

“All I’ve heard is the White Dove would do one favor if it was interesting enough!” he answered pointedly.

The white haired woman called into the room put an end to this confusing moment by pointing at your group, “Apparently your escape plan backfired Star Prince,” a nickname that had Peter sigh and roll his eyes.

“There is no escape plan, and they aren’t with me.” Peter tried to argue to the swaying hand order that called four more drones from the wall to lift the five of you off the ground. “And you know it’s Star Lord.”

“Don’t do this,” you said flatly to the white haired woman puzzling the others as it came off as more or a warning to her than a plea to be released. She ordered the group be divided, you to stay here and the others taken away to soon be seen in holograms of their own. Over to Peter you looked while you were being hovered to be lined up inside the containment field Peter was being held in. “You aren’t particularly fond of anyone on this planet are you?” you asked compounding the concern of the guards who caught on to the ominous warning and confusion of everyone else.

“No, just come here to sell stuff every now and again,” he answered with a shake of his head.

“Good to know.” You replied unable to turn and watch where your group was being taken, but listened through the bee that had dropped off your hair to hide in MJ’s so you’d know how far away she was and how scared she was.

“Accomplice from Terra, tell us what you know of this buffoon of a criminal’s plan and we may yet let you go alive.” She spoke while you tried to calm yourself down at being held captive on a planet out of reach of Yggdrasil and by extension Eldfalls.

“Mark Twain once said, ‘Never argue with stupid people, they will drag you down to their level and beat you with experience.’ I take it you don’t have a lot of practice with buffoon criminals.” You replied and her brows dropped in irritation from their prior arched posture in some mental assertion of authority.

Drax chuckled as Peter said, “Never really took to Twain’s books. Couldn’t get even half through the one about the boy and the raft.”

Scott spoke up as he was being secured into his own containment field, “That’s his best book.”

The white haired woman looked to the hovering screen she motioned over revealing MJ being hoisted up over a circular opening in the floor of whatever room she was in. “Let me guess, lava pit?” You asked to the subtle pulses your bees sent out to help you keep track of where everyone was, helped greatly by the bee who snuck from your hair into hers before she was taken.

The white haired woman spoke up in a determined tone, “Tell me what the Star Prince here had planned on Xandar or I will have your companion dropped into the molten core of our planet.”

Right through the display screen matched by one she could see you on you watched MJ take a deep breath and try to keep from showing the panic on her face when she felt a tingle through her braid the bee there gave off mirroring the flutter of wings on the bee in your bangs. Without an ounce of care on your face you replied flatly, “Drop her.”

Gamora and Nebula shared a glance at one another to Hope’s whisper to her dad hovering beside her, “This is who you wanted to help us?”

You continued as Hope spoke, “What she gets for cheating on me with The Duckling.”

“Oh that’s cold,” MJ fired back trying not to have a smirk break across her face at the hint you had a plan.

“Drop her?” the woman repeated in shock to Peter’s wide eyed stare as Rocket and Groot looked between the both of you at this soap opera unraveling.

“Be sure to scream on the way down,” you said tauntingly to MJ.

“Oh, I am so going to haunt you,” MJ added on with eyes narrowed challengingly at you.

“Promises, Promises.” You replied and Gamora said to her sister, “I like these two.”

“Drop her,” The white haired woman spoke up in a gesture of her hand—… (to be continued in the series on ao3)

#snippet #marvel #MCU #xandar #tesseract kidnapping people again #hank and hope pym #scott lang #guardians of the galaxy pre team #mj #series #long fic #it’s my fave part of this chapter #more fun to follow

[number1akitostan]

“Emotions, no matter what you do, are useless”, the Devil said.

“I’m gonna surpass Rad Weekend!”, he said. Those were his last words, before being shaken mentally, by another non-believer of Akito’s determination.

His last words, before he started overworking himself, once again. Why?

Ena couldn’t understand how someone could get so motivated, just by this simple event. Sure, she was drawing for night and night, until she passed out, but..

This wasn’t planned now, was it?

Ena’s little brother had done it again. Again, again, again and again.

Just why? How can someone get so motivated, no.. worked up over such a salty comment?

“Prove them wrong”? That’s not a reason! Just brush them off and done!.

Akito had been using his voice too much, straining his vocal chords, until he couldn’t talk anymore. At all. How could his own big sister not notice he wouldn’t talk? A whole week.

“Sorry kid, you don’t have neither the courage nor the talent to compete with that event.”

‘There’s no reason why they would all hate! They don’t understand his passion, his days, weeks, months and years worth of work. I understand him better than anyone else can. We’re.. no, were family, after all, right? I wanted to help him overcome all of this.. this complete nightmare, but no.! He just had to be stubborn until the end.’

“Akito overused his voice. I’m afraid he won’t be able to talk anymore.”, he just stood there. Motionless. Only tears would be indications of his feelings, though he wouldn’t. He just stood there. About to break like.. shattering glass. Ena knew how sad that was.. how.. “pathetic” it was. Or atleast thought, but she could still see her reflection in Akito. Having an ambition, but knowing that willpower and ambition was not enough. He just physically couldn’t. Ena, leaving him in the hospital for further inspection.. she felt such.. guilt. Hatred, not for Akito, but on herself. How could she not notice the grave importance of this situation?

‘First dad, now Akito.. family is.. nothing but pain.’

Those were her “exact” thoughts, but deep down, she knew it was her fault. Everything was so overwhelming.

“His voice is not something we can restore by using medication. His body is fighting to recover by itself right now.”, that’s what they said. Though, the doctors just couldn’t understand the situation. Her little brother just wouldn’t accept that. How would he be able to keep up with his friends’ level of singing if he’ll be left behind.. his only reason of living. Rad Weekend? Surpassing a legend? That’s all crap.

Sitting down and doing nothing? Rest? That wasn’t an option for Akito. He felt broken.. everything seemed meaningless. He wouldn’t think straight.

Ena let Akito rest at his friend, Toya’s house, because she thought that Akito wouldn’t be comfortable with sharing the things he shares with Toya. For a day, and then picked him up from his place, but when they got back, Akito was like a ghost. Pale like a ghost, and quiet like a ghost. That was, until 0:59 came.

“Akito, open the damn door! I swear, I’m gonna break the door down!”

Laying on the floor, on the cold floor. No expression showing, eyes wide open. That’s the sight Ena saw, once she opened the door. That was.. him. Akito. With the weapon of his own demise in hand. A knife. An ordinary kitchen knife.

That was her little brother. Toya’s best friend. Arata’s “rival”. The boy, who swore to surpass Rad Weekend is no longer.. here. Eliminated by his own words, ambitions.

A minute passed, but it felt like an eternity.

Ena broke down, hugging the cold corpse. Tears running down her face. Extreme guilt, sadness, sorrow and everything.. was what she was feeling.

To think that mere impatience would get the best of him, was just.. pathetic.

If he had just told ANYONE what happened and how he was feeling, maybe they would’ve figured something out. Though..

1:00!

“Perhaps I was too ignorant to notice your suffering,

I’m sorry.”

A room full of mirrors, was where she was standing.

Only seeing her own reflection. Her complexes, her problems, her insecurities.

Nobody else’s.

Guess I won’t be attending to NIGHTCORD for now.

#akito shinonome #ena shinonome #shinonome siblings #project sekai #angst #vbs toya #toya aoyagi #vivid bad squad #nightcord ena #25 ji nightcord de #colourful stage #Spotify

[onewmin]

the perfume on the shelf. pt. 4 | bangchan

Pairings: Bang Chan x Fem!reader, Kim Yugyeom x Fem!reader

Summary: Falling in love with your best friend was never a part of the plan. So you end it up. But does he want to put a stop to it, too?

Warnings: AU, descriptions of blood and gore, profanity, mental issues, angst, clichés, typos, the reader’s confused about everything. Everything's described from the reader's pov, so if you don't get something or the narration seems blurred - that's the purpose lol

Author’s note: it took me long to finish this part, idk why. The way the story develops may seem too slow, but that's the goal, actually. And I'm a fan of slow narration, so it is what it is. Next part will be more action-packed, I swear 🫣 Hope you enjoy!! tell me what you think <3

P.S. I’m still taking requests for the taglist, so if you want to be on it, hmu 😙

Part 3 | Part 5

Disclaimer: the names and appearances of real people are used for inspiration and writing purposes only. I do not claim anything, everything belongs to its owners.

Having said rushed goodbyes to Yugyeom, you flew out of the coffee shop and sprinted in the direction of the hospital. The voice in the back of your head squeaked, scolding you for leaving him in such a manner, but you didn’t really care. He woke up. He was okay.

Despite being out of breath and feeling pain in your legs, you kept on running, as if you had to bolt from the police. Another elevator ride — shit, you should have just taken the stairs — and you were the first one to get out the second it stopped at the necessary floor.

Chan’s parents and Minho weren’t there; you assumed, in the quick observation of the hall, they had either been in the hospital room with him or with the doctor. Whatever.

You stopped only at the room’s entrance, catching your breath. Through a small glass window in the door, you saw Chan, sitting on his bed with the phone in his hands. Alone.

Breathe in, breathe out. You tried to briefly fix your hair, in a desperate attempt to make it less messy from the running. Taking another deep breath, you pushed the door, making your presence visible to him too.

You closed the door and just stood there, gawking at him. He raised his eyes at you, slowly. Holding this eye-contact, your palms started sweating, and you automatically wiped them on your pants, every small action of yours followed by Chan’s gaze.

He hissed, standing up; pressing his hand to his left side, Chan didn’t break the eye contact, staring at you as if he’d been trying to catch every meticulous detail of your face.

Your eyes welled up at the sight of him, physically broken because of you. The guilt that had risen on the day of the accident was the only feeling you didn’t suppress; to be honest, you weren’t able to get rid of her. She was eating you alive, mouth full of blood from your torn apart heart, agonizing you with the blame you had put on yourself. If you hadn’t sent those texts, he wouldn’t have got into the accident. If you had waited for one more day, maybe, just maybe, he would have been okay now.

But he was there. Bandages on his head, bandages on his hands, but he was there. Bruised, broken but alive. Conscious.

The breath was knocked out of your lungs during the next few steps you made. Chan was standing there, still, waiting; your height difference was nothing — just your nose slightly brushing the bridge of his — and your hands cupped his cheeks cautiously. You were so scared to bring him more pain that every move of your body had to be calculated.

Following his gaze, that darted from your eyes to lips, you took a final leap before your jump off the cliff’s edge, a jump you’d be making to finally let your feelings intertwine with his. You were in love with each other, and you both knew it. So you were jumping not into an abyss, you were getting ready to jump into a lake, with warm water, opal sky above it. You were jumping into your personal heaven.

Your mouths collided messily; the salty tears mixing up with Chan’s taste. He might have had something sweet to eat before, so it was even more addictive. You moved your lips carefully, afraid to scare him away. Palms pressed to his cheeks, you felt a hand on your waist. He responded to a kiss, slowly pecking your lips before taking control. His lips were chapped, and you could touch every small bite he’d made just by moving your lips.

Kissing Chan had always been something you craved, craved even more than sex. The first kiss with him was like a first shot of tequila, warmness spreading inside your chest, intoxicating taste pushing you to the brink of dizziness, always desiring and taking more. But this time… It was relieving, needy; it was as if you’d been lying amidst a desert, suffering from drought for years before a teary, salty rain blessed you with another day. You were going to live.

You broke the kiss, fogged up glasses forbidding to see Chan’s face without a blur. He was looking at you, and that was enough.

“I thought I lost you”, you whispered in his lips, hands still on his cheeks. A half-smile from him, a smile you missed so much, a smile that was a drop of water in your endless thirst.

Chan leaned in, his lips brushing over yours; and you were there, parting your lips to taste him again, to kiss him at any possible moment, whenever he felt like it.

But before you could drown in him yet again, Chan pulled away, smile fading.

“Don’t”. His hands were on yours, removing them softly.

“Sorry”, you sniffed, taking your glasses off and wiping them with the hem of your shirt. “You can’t move a lot, and this… This is too much for someone, who…”.

“No”. He sat back down on the bed, eyes scanning you. “Don’t ever do that again”.

What? “What?”

A touch on your shoulder, the one you’d become familiar with lately, slowly pushed you back, tugging, as if he was making you leave the room.

“No”, you brushed Minho’s hand off. “What are you saying?”

Only then you noticed the bore he stared at you with, the exhaustion in his sighs signaling he was already done with the conversation.

Dumbfounded, you stood there, gawking at him and thinking your ears were lying to you. He could not have said that, right? Not right after you two kissed, no. Right?

Lee Know finally managed to take you from the room to the hall, closing the door behind him. Taking you by the hand, he dragged you in the direction of the hospital cafeteria. He pulled the chair, sat you down and ferociously plopped oppositely.

“I have no answers”, he uttered, fingers tapping on the table surface.

“What-“

“No answers”. He repeated. “He’s been like that since the moment he woke up. Grumpy, angry. Made his mom cry. Little shit”, he mumbled.

“I don’t understand, he, uh…” You were staring at your hands, fingers fiddling the ring Chan once gave you. “He-“

“Yeah, I saw”. Minho leaned back on the chair. “He didn’t wake up when I texted you. It happened two hours earlier”.

You raised your eyes, gazing at him. What the fuck?

“One of the things he ‘ordered’ me to do was not to text you. Said he didn’t want to see you”.

“But… But he kissed me back”, you uttered.

“Look”, Lee Know grabbed your hands. “I don’t know what’s going on in his head, really. But I swear”, he squeezed your palms in his, “we’ll find out. He stresses me out too”.

“Did he say… Was he like that to you?”

“Oh yeah”, he huffed. “Said I was too annoying, ‘cause I asked if he was okay. Oh, and said that I worry too much”. Minho leaned back on his chair again. “Can’t believe this asshole”.

“What about his parents?”

“Even a better story here”. Minho turned his head to look out of the window. “Told they could go back to their trip, said he doesn’t need them here”.

“Is he?..”

“What? Got his brain damaged too much? I have no fucking clue”, an exhausted sigh left his mouth. “Shit, sorry, I know I’m not supposed to talk like that, but.. I don’t know. It’s not him”.

You just sat there, gaze focused on the trees outside the building. The wind was blowing through the leaves, the sky had become grey, foretelling the rain in the next few moments.

You did take the leap to jump off the cliff’s edge, however, you didn’t get into the warm water with the opal sky above it; it was a mirage, something you wished to see. In reality, the jump turned into a falling, and your desperate attempts to grab at something didn’t prevent the fatality that expected you. You were falling into the abyss, again. This time, though, you felt like you wouldn’t come back.

“He said something..”, Minho mumbled. “I didn’t pay attention to it at first, but now..”

Your response was to keep looking out of the window.

“He said he was tired of everything. Like it was too much.”

“Are you making this up now just to make me feel better?”

Lee Know huffed, but didn’t answer. You, on the other hand, had no fucking idea what was going on.

“I gotta go”, you stood up, taking the bag in your hands. “I’ll be late to work”.

As you turned around and started walking away, Minho suddenly grabbed you by the hand, forcing you to stop.

“Come at visiting hours later”, he said quietly. “I’ll try to talk to him”. You nodded and left.

Walking out of the hospital, cold raindrops touched your hair. It was supposed to be summer rain, you thought. Now it was cold, sunless and absolutely stupid. Stupid ‘cause you didn’t take an umbrella.

Everything was a blur: your subway ride, a walk to the office, pointy-looking colleagues. The only things echoing in your ears were the stomps you made. As you sat down in front of the computer, all of the sounds disappeared. It was just that annoying shit he said in your head now.

“Don’t ever do that again”.

The fuck, Chan? What the actual fuck?

“Hey”, a cooing voice from outside your head asked. “Are you alright?”

Nodding absentmindedly, you clicked on the file you’d gotten earlier. Just do your job, you can do it automatically. You don’t need to think.

But you were still falling. Falling into the pit, into the abyss; and you had no idea what was there, except for the black, viscous quagmire. A long way down, indeed, as you had still not fallen. You wished you had, though — it would’ve been easier to… To what, actually? What? You were absolutely oblivious to what had happened. What had possessed Chan’s head so that he would change his mind, doing a full 180?

“He’s in love with you”

“Don’t ever do that again”.

A bloody mess inside your head, the Guilt, who was following you around like a shadow, was losing her position, losing her face to… Nothing. There wasn’t anything, but the mixture of every other emotion you could have had. Pain, hurt, anger, confusion, love, pity — you name it.

“Are you okay?” A soft touch on your shoulder — Eunjoo and her questions again. “You have been sitting like that for the past five minutes”.

‘Like that’ was with your hands covering your face, water from the wet hair dripping on the desk.

“I need to use the bathroom”, the urge to run away was overwhelming — for some reason, you couldn’t bear the thought of Eunjoo (or anyone else, for god’s sake) comforting you. It just… Wasn’t you. You never cried or shared your intimate problems with Eunjoo, even though she was you best and only friend, besides Chan. And if the idea of sharing with him, who you’d known for years, was your personal hell — what to say about Eunjoo? It wasn’t like you didn’t trust her; you were just used to friends devaluing your feelings, so while making new ones, you tended to keep your mouth shut.

Who’s interested in my problems anyway? One step forward, two steps back, your therapist stated. You didn’t disagree.

You stood in front of the mirror, hands pressed into the marble surface of the sink; some of the girls, who worked in the building, were chatting in the background. Their high voices and melodic laughs reminded you of birds chirping, but that was another nonsense you used to distract yourself with. The way those girls laughed wasn’t and never would be your main concern. At least, it wasn’t one now.

But it weren’t you if you didn’t think about anything but the fucking elephant in the room.

“Hey”. Eunjoo was there, again: hands on you shoulders, and a concerned look in her eyes, which you could see through the reflection in the mirror. “What happened?”

You shook your head, looking at the sink again, trying to hold back tears. Shit, no matter how much therapy you’d got, showing your emotions to those who cared was still the hardest thing to do.

“Did something happen to Chan?”

Ah shit. Her saying his name broke you eventually. Looking at Eunjoo through the mirror, you shook your head again, tears falling down your face.

“Oh, honey”. She pulled you in, wrapping her hands around your shoulders. Her head on yours, and you collapsed in her arms, tears muffled by her shoulder. She was the first girl friend of yours that saw this side of you. Broken, tired, confused. Everything and all it once.

Your cries eventually fade away, leaving you resting your forehead on Eunjoo’s shoulder and arms wrapped around her waist. You could’ve stayed there until you calmed down, but the smell of her perfume was too suffocating for you to keep on inhaling.

“Oh, you shirt”, you said quietly. “I’m sorry”.

“Do not be”, Eunjoo smiled, hands rushing to cup your cheeks. “I will wear it proudly, because I found out something about my best friend today”.

“What’s that?”

Eunjoo pressed her forehead to yours. “She is not a robot. She is actually a human, who can cry”.

You huffed and smacked her shoulder, turning the water on to make your face look less red from crying. “You’re not funny, you know that?” You mumbled.

“I am very funny. Hilarious, some people say”. She held your hair in a ponytail so that it wouldn’t get wet; before Eunjoo you used to be that friend, who held the hair, made sure everyone got home safely and didn’t get into trouble. Eunjoo was the one to make sure you were okay, too. And in that exact moment, with the two of you standing in the office’s bathroom, Eunjoo giving you paper towels and still keeping her hand on your shoulder — in that moment you realized how much of a great friend she was. It almost made you cry again.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You gave her a half-smile. “I’ll tell you at lunch break. Okay?”

After the break, Eunjoo’s gasps, swearings at Chan and advice you felt a bit better. Or worse. Shit, you had no clue what you felt.

“He’s still traumatized from the accident”. Eunjoo said. “Also, I’ve heard that people wha have been in coma have these… weird reactions to things. It is like they have been on the verge of life and death and woke up with different values”.

You kept on chewing on your carrot, nodding to Eunjoo’s words. You didn’t believe in supernatural, or people seeing god while being in coma — but was there another way to explain his behavior?

“Or maybe he is just confused”. She stated, sipping on her coffee. “Imagine you just woke up from an accident and someone is kissing you already”.

“It’s not like he didn’t kiss me back”, you uttered.

“Maybe it was a reflex?”

You let out an annoyed sigh, leaning back on the chair. “Do you have such a reflex, Eunjoo? Do you kiss people back when they kiss you?”

“I meant”, she continued quietly. “A reflex to you. To your actions”.

“Yeah, sure. I’d rather believe he’d met god and he told him to celibate to get into heaven, and that’s why he’s like that”.

Eunjoo sighed. “Has it occurred to you that maybe he really wants to put an end to it?”

You let out a nervous laughter in response to her words. The worst outcome that could be, to be honest. Yes, you were the one to text him, the one who wanted to stop seeing each other. But it wasn’t because you didn’t love him — it was because you loved him too much to take it anymore. And what Minho said…

Yeah, you agreed that Chan was confused. Because, for what other reason would he say such things to you? He had never, ever, been rude to you, and now what? He decided to become an asshole all of a sudden? Didn’t seem like him.

Sitting in front of your computer, you absentmindedly twisted the necklace in your fingers. Your brain was so tired of thinking about Chan that you started wondering how different things could be if you just accepted Yugyeom’s offer many years ago. If you had moved to New York to him, continued your writing career there, lived in a tiny shared apartment… If you had done that, who knows, maybe you’d be much happier now. There would be no Chan, no pain he caused you, and no harm done to him. Maybe the two of you wouldn’t even be friends. Maybe.

Your thoughts darted from the aching images of that unrealistic past you could’ve had with Yugyeom to the dark present you shared with Chan. What your future held was a secret, sealed so carefully you couldn’t even imagine where to start.

“Do you want me to come with you?”, Eunjoo asked while the two of you were walking to the subway.

“No. Minho would be there, so I’ll be okay”.

Lies. You wouldn’t be okay, there was no possible scenario in which you’d feel alright. Though, there was one with a happy ending, however, you didn’t seem to believe it would come true. Your gut was screaming again, completely confident it was yet another jump from the cliff’s edge. Only this time this whole mess should be resolved, so that you could finally end the falling into the abyss or be pulled back. No other options.

Every step from the subway station to the hospital seemed like your last one. What was in Chan’s mind? And, what’s more important, what the hell was going on in yours? Since the very morning you had been dissociating from everything but Chan. Although, you’d feel better dissociating from him too.

He’d made a mess out of you yet again. As if it hadn’t been enough to make you hooked on crumbs of affection he gave you, Chan got you completely fucked up when he rejected you. You tried to chalk that up to his condition, you did; but how bad his concussion had to be to make him behave like that?

Was it your guilt eating you up again?

Every thought in your head was multiplied by two the second you saw Minho sitting near Chan’s hospital room, eyes closed.

“Are you meditating?”

He opened his eyes to give you an exhausted look — the one that made any attempt to joke disappear. Dark circles under his eyes and a pale face, Jesus, when was the last time he got a good night’s sleep?

“I wish”, he replied quietly, rubbing his eyes. “I spent three hours talking to him. Never thought I had this much to say”. Minho chuckled.

“What did you say?”

“A lot”. He stood up to face you. “He’s not the talkative one today. But I think, I convinced him to speak to you too”.

Oh shit. The door handle was never as hot as it was at that moment.

Chan was sitting on the chair, looking at the view through the window. He seemed too bright in the white light of the hospital room, chest rising and falling with every breath he took. The cardigan you knitted a couple of years ago was on his shoulders, making you think that maybe he did still care; he was wearing your gift after all. You remembered how he put it on for the first time, saying it would be his favorite thing to wear. He didn’t wear it much, though. In your vivid imagination there were dreamy thoughts of him keeping it in his drawer, so that it wouldn’t get ripped accidentally — you projected yet another thing on Chan. That he, possibly, cared about you so much, he kept the cardigan you spent three months on far from dirt and dust. You probably were wrong.

“Hey”. You hesitated to move from the door further into the room, scared he’d reject you again.

Chan turned and looked at you; his piercing gaze was burning a hole in your head, and you wondered if you could make it out alive tonight. Physically — yes, but emotionally? Your gut was confident you’d be wrecked after this conversation. Or you were imagining a bad outcome yet again. Nothing had happened yet. Calm down.

“Minho’s lectured me already”.

A cold tone in his voice again. “I’m not here to lecture you. I just wanna talk”.

“Then talk”.

“Chan…” You sighed. “Just… Tell me what’s wrong. I just don’t unders-“

“You texted me, remember?” He slowly stood up. “You said you wanted to end it, remember?”

“Chan, I-“

“How was it that you put it?” He was standing there, just mere inches between you. But your back was glued to the door, and he didn’t move forward from his place near the bed. So close, yet so far. “Oh, right. Whenever you’re around, I just feel more alone”.

You gulped. Shit. “I didn’t mean it like that”.

“D’you think I’m an idiot? What else could you mean?”

“I, uh”, closing your eyes, you took a deep breath, “I couldn’t take it anymore. I couldn’t be… Couldn’t love you anymore, knowing you didn’t… Didn’t feel the same”.

Wow. Actually saying that? Felt like a weight off your shoulders, a weight you’d been carrying for ages. Texting was one thing, but looking into his eyes and deliver the line was somehow phenomenal.

“Why are you here then? Get out if I’m such a horrible person”. A scathing tone of his voice covering up something else, something deeper inside. You couldn’t figure out what.

“Stop it”. You replied firmly. “Turn this bullshit off. Why are you acting like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like someone else”.

“Oh”, you followed every move he made, from narrowing his eyes at you to crackling his knuckles. “So I’m not that desirable when I’m not dancing to your tune?”

He let out a chuckle; you wanted to kill him instantly. Did he really need to be metaphoric to spit poison at you?

“When did you do that?” You didn’t expect the tone of your voice to be so demanding. “When did you dance to my tune, huh? Isn’t it the other way round?”

He sat down on the bed, hands covering his face. You had absolutely no idea of what was going on. Was it all in your head, a hallucination? This whole day, the way he spoke to you, the way he made you feel?

“You were right, we should end it”. He responded to the message you’d sent weeks ago, absolutely ignoring the words you were saying just now. “We won’t work it out”.

“Chan, please”, you didn’t even catch the moment when you got on your knees on the floor beside the bed, “talk to me. Why are you being like this?”

He watched the tears falling down your face and cupped your cheek, wiping them with his thumb. “Because we only hurt each other, tiger”.

“No. It’s not true”.

“It is”, he stammered. “I hurt you with… With all of this mess. I didn’t realize you were in love with me. And I didn’t realize I was in love with you too”.

He laughed nervously. “Minho has told you already, right?”. You nodded, eyes still focused on him. “Knew it”.

“Chan-“

“Let me finish, please”, he answered softly, “I want you to know”. He stopped, taking a deep breath and exhaling — every move still bringing him pain.

“I think, I, uh… I think, we just don’t work. Not like a couple. And we never worked out as friends either”. He drew a breath. “‘Cause I’ve been in love with you the moment we met, I think”.

What?

“It took me long enough to understand it. And when I realized you reciprocated, I, uh, I… I didn’t know what to do. ‘Cause the thrill, it kinda expired, y’know?”

“What are you talking about?”

He sighed again. “You know that… You know that I, uh… Shit, I’ve never said it out loud”, he let out a laugh, fidgeting in his seat. “I like the first steps, ‘getting the girl’ type of thing. And when I get her, it.. It gets boring”.

An arrow pierced through your chest, almost hitting the heart. A painful tingling, followed by a bloody spot appearing on your white shirt. He was merciless in his honesty, wasn’t he?

“When you said you had feelings for me, I wanted to, uh, I wanted to make sure it was true so that I knew what to do next”.

“Do you know now?”

He went silent for a moment. “Yes”. Your heart dropped to your stomach in a desperate attempt to avoid another arrow being shot in its direction. In those seconds of complete silence you prayed to every god to make it all a bad dream. It couldn’t be real. Not with Chan, no.

“And?”

“We need to break up. To stop it all”.

You took a deep breath before standing up to your feet. Looking at Chan, you didn’t notice a slight sign of tears or sorrow on his face — he just observed you, emptiness in his eyes. Every little thing you used to see, the gentleness, the love — it was all gone. Or maybe it was never there. Maybe, probably, you just wanted to see those feelings being there. Could it be possible that he really only wanted you when you didn’t love him? Was he that cruel, to leave you the second you reciprocated?

A tingling in your chest turned into a hole, left by dozens of arrows released into your heart. Every word he said turned into a weapon to kill you. And now inside your rib cage there was nothing but a bloodbath made from what used to be your heart just minutes ago. You could do nothing — even though you wished your tears ricocheted as daggers in response to his ruthlessness.

“You should’ve told me you were like this”. You went poker-faced (so you hoped) and Chan’s face darkened, as if he hadn’t just hurt you in the worst way possible.

“I’m sorry”.

“Sorry won’t fix anything”, was it you speaking? Seemed as if you heard that voice for the first time in your life. “You’re saying this bullshit, but for some reason you questioned, you wondered if your feelings for me were real. If they weren’t, would you run to see me?”

“It’s not the case-“

“Answer me”.

The orotund voice of yours, that neither you nor Chan had heard before, must have startled him, as he glanced at you in shock. Maybe that was the side of the real inner persona you were looking for — demanding, even when hurt. Although, the only thing you craved for was to collapse on the floor and beg him to love you back. Perhaps, if you hadn’t been that pathetic previously, Chan would reciprocate the feelings in the present.

“I already said why I did what I did. I wanted to make sure they were true so that I could end it. I wanted to figure out what I felt”.

“Did you ever stop to think about how I feel?”

A look in his eyes that you managed to catch in those mere seconds was unknown. It was a stranger watching you and shaking his head in response to your words. A man that was once on every mural in the temple of your heart became a stranger in a snap of the fingers.

“You could have just told me. Set a fucking boundary”. You clenched your fists as your voice grew louder. “You could, should have told me you were a heartless piece of shit”.

“You should have seen it coming”, he replied calmly. “You saw how each of my relationships ended”.

You nodded, gulping, forbidding yourself from being vulnerable in front of him ever again. “I was in love with you to foresee you’d treat me the same way. And you were my best friend, after all. I just wanted to be someone you could love”.

“To think”, you continued after picking your bag from the floor, “to think I’ve done so many things, changed so much to get you to love me, and you still… And you still never look my way”. You let out a breathy chuckle, almost losing your face. “Although you did, but only when I didn’t love you, right?”

He sighed. “Please, just… Don’t make a scene. I only told you that to get it off my chest”.

Cruel. Heartless. In your worst nightmares you couldn’t imagine him saying these things. But he did.

“I’m not making anything. I’m fact”, you turned to face the door, “I won’t bother you ever again. You can move onto the next girl to have unrequited feeling for”.

Slamming the door, you almost sprinted to the exit, to avoid talking to Minho, to escape this place you grew accustomed to. You only wanted to be alone.

How could a person change so drastically in mere minutes? Chan you had just talked to wasn’t the one who was as familiar as your own mind. In all those years you’d been friends he had never behaved this way.

“Not to you”, that inner voice of a conspiracy theorist rose from the ashes again. “Don’t forget what he told you about his break up once”.

“I just, uh.. I dunno. It’s like I lose interest whenever a girl falls for me for real”.

Every word now engraved in your mind, engraved there for eternity. The man in that hospital was still Chan, and you were still you too. But now your favourite “friends to lovers” trope turned into dust. In a split second you and him were strangers again, and there was no second chance for the two of you to meet in the writing club once again.

Taglist:

@heylookwhoitis @amaranth-writing @itstorimf

#bang chan #bang chan imagine #bang chan x female reader #bangchan #bangchan imagine #bangchan imagines #stray kids imagines

[terrence-silver]

Could we please have a scenario where Terry just keeps fvcking beloved when someone walks in on them

---

In moments like these, he truly missed Margaret Spencer.

Milos Dadok.

His old waiting staff from approximately thirty years ago back when he was still stationed at his Beverly Hills statement Mayan temple mansion overlooking Griffith Park in the heart of LA, because if Terry had a time machine and the ability to place you in it along with himself, push a button and go back three decades, he supposed he'd simply do this in front of them.

But as things were, the posse he flew in from Korea would have to do, seeing how there were perks to their ascetic levels of discipline and among others, it was the fact that they never minded when he fucked you in front of them, without concealing it, his leisure infinite. It was his house after all, his rules, his domain, his court --- they, his honored guests from afar, naturally. But, that didn't render his daily habits obsolete just because they were here. Quite the contrary. Their stoicism, it was a learned skill they honed all their lives --- no differently than he himself did. His Fist didn't flinch when faced with pain, hardship, training, blood or guts. Sex. At you sprawled out on the couch as he took you from behind while they mingled around, patrolling the premises, Sensei Min-Jun, Morozov and Odell acting his as his modern-day equivalent of a Praetorian guard; not that he needed one, but he enjoyed the prestige of living like an Emperor simply because he could. Fucking like an Emperor simply because he had you. Why should he stop for anyone in the world? Anything in the world? Terry would envy even the smallest patch of exposed of flesh on your skin in front of anyone else, but his Fist? They were more like extensions of him. His eyes, his fingers, his muscles. Them seeing you beneath him counted as much as not being seen at all. Such was the tutelage of Kim Sun Yung. They functioned like a unit, when need be. One being, especially in times of war.

These were such times. The times of extreme measures.

-"Sasong."- Sensei Hyan-Woo stands on attention, addressing him and approaching the sofa, honorifics on display, hands crossed behind his back, seemingly unfettered that you had your face dug into the fabric of the couch, body jiggling back and forth under Terry's rhythm, your fingers desperately gripping the material, your gasps wordless. -"Security on the premises could be reinforced. What do you want us to do about it?"- He asks and Terry wasn't concerned about security or anyone breaking in, focusing on the tender flesh of your ass facing him. The idea was ludicrous. He'd leave his door wide open if need be as an invitation to anyone who wanted to cross him. He was king here. He'd act the king. If Larusso, Lawrence or whoever else wanted to play tough, well then, so be it. Kings don't hide. That's why they're kings. -"Let them come to us. I want them to be able to."- Terry manages through gritted teeth and waves of pleasure, rutting back and forth, eyes pinned on the outlined of your naked back, grabbing either side of your bouncing hips. -"Fight us on our own territory."- He adds through a heated grunt, his hands reaching forward to tangle themselves in your hair. Hyan-Woo nods, firm faced and icy, turning to leave, accepting his orders and directions; his poker face borderline amusing. -"Understood, Sasong."- He says with a small bow, the door of the lobby shuts behind him. The moan you've been suppressing comes out tattered and broken once you're alone, impaled on his cock.

Terry hums in appreciation in return. Shy, were you? Even now?

Oh, thirty years ago.

Thirty years ago, if Margaret was still around, she'd merely push the bridge of her glasses on her eyes at the sight of this, give you and him a speculative glance and continue working, ignoring the debauchery going on right in front of her, ever the face of unflinching professionalism. Unfortunately, good, old Mrs. Spencer wasn't around anymore, rest her soul. But some things? Some things and some habits never had to change. They only had to take a different shape.

#terry silver #cobra kai #kk3 #tw; exhibitionism #terry silver x reader #terry silver x beloved #the fist #old man terry #milos dadok #margaret spencer

[mishwanders]

Chapter Twenty Nine [No.031]: Pieces

Pairing: Albert Wesker x GN!Cannibal Reader

Warnings: blood, dead Wesker, guns, shots fired, fight, rocket launcher, biting, clawing, Chris gets hurt.

Summary: You wake up and everything is in disarray. You have only one thought on your mind - find Wesker.

Read On AO3 [ X ]

You slowly opened your eyes, hearing the sound of the alarms going off around you, as the red emergency lights flashed about the small room, dancing around on the walls urgently. You struggled as you sat up, hugging the wall as you forced yourself to stand. You were disoriented and trying to remember your last moments that led to you being here in this moment.

You remembered that Jill had knocked you out, but not before you had dug your claws into her, Rebecca, and Barry. You didn’t know how long you had been out, how long these alarms had been going off or even why. But you had to move, you had to get down stairs, you had to find Wesker, let him know what happened.

You continued to hug the walls as you moved forward, until you were able to gain your balance once again. You passed by all of the undead, heading straight for the elevator. When it reached the lower level, you could hear a loud commotion coming from the lab, seeing bug-like creatures ripping away at the dead bodies on the floor, gorging themselves on their flesh.

You looked at them, confused. They shouldn’t be down here, Wesker would have already taken these fuckers out. That’s when you realized something was very, very wrong about all of this.

You made your way over to the bug creatures, stepping on their bodies, squishing them under your boots. You ran into the lab, seeing it in shambles, in complete disarray. You noticed the hole in the ceiling, allowing the morning sun to come pouring. Your eyes made their way down from it to the broken glass tube, the one the tyrant had once resided in. You guessed that was the culprit of the hole. Your eyes then passed over to the computer, showing a completed download.

That was weird. Wesker would have -

You felt the anxiety rising in you, the fear gripping your throat like a snake. Oh god, did it -

You couldn’t stay where you were, you ran around the other side of the lab tubes, sloshing the liquid on the floor, stepping on the broken glass.

“Wes -”

You felt the breath get caught in your chest when your eyes caught sight of him, mouth dropping open in horror at the scene that laid before you. Wesker had collapsed over on his side, covered in his own blood, bleeding from his abdomen still. His eyes were half-lidded and his glasses were on the ground, broken.

“Wesker!”

You ran over to him, picking up his lifeless body in your arms. Your hands were at his face, shaking against his cold skin as you held him, trying to get him to look at you. He wasn’t waking up, eyes staring blankly into the room. Your lips quivered as you felt the tears welling up, feeling them begin to overflow and roll down your cheeks as you were gripped with all the pain that loss could give at once.

“W-Wes-sker, p-please wake u-up.” You begged

You were met with only silence from him.

“P-please. I need you.”

Dead silent.

“Y-You sa-aid… w-we would m-make it out…together.”

You held him close against your chest, burying your face into his drooping shoulder. You were silent for a moment, only allowing the sounds of the alarms and the commotion outside to reach your ears. But you couldn’t help it, you were soon overcome with grief, rocking back and forth as you held him, screaming until your throat hurt, crying rivers over him and everything he meant to you.

You couldn’t believe this was happening - this wasn’t part of the plan. He knew what he was doing, he said that in every version of this experiment he said you two would make it out of here together! He said he was going to fake his death, not actually go through with it! This wasn’t fair, this wasn’t how it was suppose to go, he was suppose to live god fucking damn it!

And now he was dead, and you were here, all alone. Paying the price of the risk that was this fucking experiment. You were now completely alone in this world -

Left with nothing else but pieces.

Pieces of him, in your arms, pieces of yourself, pieces of the life that once was and could have been, pieces of this god damn experiment gone wrong.

This wasn’t fair, this wasn’t fair, this wasn’t fucking fair. How, did this fucking happen?! You removed your face from his shoulder, and forced yourself to look around. You could see the broken glass, the bullets in the floor. Your eyes trailed up to the desk and back to the computer with the finished download screen. You regretfully had to let go of Wesker’s body, moving over to the desk. You stared at the screen, with no clue what Wesker’s login would be to access everything and retrieve the finished data. But you did know one, one that would always be engraved in your memory.

Dr. Marcus’ login.

You put it in and stood there, hoping that it would take. You felt relief wash over you when you saw that it did. You were not going to leave this building without it. Your eyes left the screen momentarily looking around at the other items on the desk. You noticed a used syringe, seeing the small vial sitting next to it. You picked it up and read the label, seeing that it was a different version of the T-virus that resided in you. You looked back at Wesker now, seeing his state again. Had he used this on himself?

Your fist tightened around the vial.

You knew he had.

You threw the vial at the wall with all of the anger that flooded your veins. You destroyed what was left of it, of this experiment. No one else would get their hands on it, no one else would be like him. You quickly grabbed a note and scribbled out words on it. If this shit revived him somehow, you wanted him to know you got everything - that he wouldn’t have to worry.

All he would have to do is find you. All he would have to do is come back to you.

Was it worthless to wish for that? That he would? Fuck you didn’t know but everything had fallen apart. You felt like you were breaking away at the seams, the rational and irrational mixing into one grieving and rage filled monster as your mind was completely clouded by every emotion and urge in your body. Your urges were no longer laid at the surface. They were now spilling out of you and swirling around your body like a goddamn storm.

And no one was going to be able to survive this storm.

No one at all.

You continued to look around the place, trying to piece together everything that had happened. You looked up to the hole in the ceiling, hearing a loud commotion coming from above. You remembered seeing the bullets, realizing that Redfield's dead body wasn’t anywhere to be seen. You felt the rage begin to shoot up above the rest of the emotions, feeling it fuel your entire body. Whatever happened, whatever fucking led to this, Redfield had to be behind it all. You were angry at yourself for letting him live, for not being down here when it all happened. You could have taken him out easily and you and Wesker could have both escaped together.

You had pitied him and the others before this, almost feeling bad that they were stuck in this place with you. But that feeling quickly faded as the rage continued to boil throughout your body. These humans who play protectors and keepers, who pretend to be the good in this world - they were just as much of monsterous and murderous as you were.

They just knew how to hide it better from everyone else.

You ejected the disk out of the system, placing it on your person. You took the note back over to Wesker, sliding it into his lifeless hand. You held onto his hand as you pressed a kiss against his temple, your lips trembling as you spoke.

“If you wake up, please come find me.”

You let go of him, continuing to stare down at him as you backed away from his body. When you were in the light, you looked up at the hole in the ceiling and took to climbing up the broken concrete surface until you reached the helicopter pad. You could see the bloody remains of the dead tyrant splatter around the ground. Your eyes caught sight of a severely injured Barry, unconscious Jill, and Rebecca tending to them out of the corner of your eye. But you were only focused on one person, and one person alone.

And that was the man standing in front of you.

Chris' eyes went wide, horrified and shocked when he saw you crawling out of the hole from the lab like a devil crawling out of hell. To him, you looked like evil incarnate in every sense of the word, staring at him with a sinister smile as you stood up, teeth barred like a demon. But really, you were just hurt and filled with grief over the loss of your person, feeling the rage over taking your body, making every answer and action for you.

“Pick up the gun Redfield.”

He looked at you confused. Were you -

“Pick up the FUCKING GUN!” You yelled at him, “Or do you not want this to be a fair fight?”

That’s when the realization hit him. He quickly scrambled to pick up the rocket launcher, and you took off running for him. Rebecca noticed you as well and took hold of Jill’s gun, aiming at your back. She shot at you, attempting to make a hit, at the same time Chris made his shot, but you ducked under both, dropping to a knee as you slid on the helicopter pad. When you were close enough you leapt up at Chris, knocking the rocket launcher off of him, forcing his back to slam into the ground below.

You were furious, enraged with all the fire of hell against him, against what he caused, against everything he pretended to stand for.

He was going to fucking pay for everything he’d ever done.

You took to clawing away at him, leaving gashes in his arms as he tried to block you, to keep you away from his face. You screeched a loud and guttural scream at him, letting all of the grief and pain you felt into him, into the air for everyone that was left to hear. You released all of it onto his body as you continued to beat and berate him. You were so consumed in it all, in the act of trying to kill him that you couldn’t even think or remember that Rebecca was still behind you with the gun.

Rebecca stayed silent as she took another shot at you, and this time -

She didn’t miss.

The bullet hit you in the back, bouncing off of your vest. You fell forward onto Chris, head hitting the ground next to him. You didn’t knock out completely, but you felt the pain resonate throughout your body, the world going blurry and spinning. Chris rolled you off of him and saw you still fighting it, trying to get back up. Brad could see the state of things from his position up in the air and came swooping down with the helicopter. When Chris noticed what was happening behind him he looked over to the others who were just as injured as he was now.

“GET IN THE HELICOPTER!”

Rebecca and Barry both took hold of Jill and carried her over to it, Rebecca keeping an eye on you and Chris, watching you struggle to stand up again.

“Running away Redfield?” You asked

“Why do this?” he asked in return

You laughed at his question, irritated by his voice and his ignorance.

“Why?!” You asked him, “Why kill Wesker when you could have just fucking gone along with it?!”

“I didn’t -” He began but he was quickly silenced when he felt your hand come down into his face, nails clawing down the side of his cheek, leaving open wounds.

He stumbled backwards, taking hold of his bleeding face in his hand. He looked up at you, staring into your eyes, fearful and angry. You had thought you two were similar before, and now?

You two were just mirrored images of the other.

“You liar, you fucking liar!” You yelled at him. “Don’t you fucking tell me it isn’t your fucking fault because it wouldn’t have happened if you had JUST LISTENED!”

“Chris, come on!” Rebecca yelled back to him, “There’s no use, just run!”

Chris knew she was right, but he was terrified to turn his back on you. He heard the shots fired from Rebecca's gun, seeing them landing at your feet. You were momentarily distracted by it so Chris took his chance, gunning it for the helicopter. Rebecca kept firing at you until she ran out and Chris landed inside. You took off running for the helicopter as well, but Brad quickly got away from you, from your grip.

You watched as the remaining S.T.A.R.S. members took off into the air, escaping you, escaping the mansion. You let out one last guttural scream that ripped through the air, breaking over the sound of the alarms going off around the building. You were distraught, in anguish, you’d felt like you had failed and lost everything.

And truly you had.

Hadn’t you?

You had.

Now all that was left was you, this god damned disk, and the alarms. You need to leave soon.

Everything was about to blow.

Chapter Twenty Eight: This Feels Like The End

Chapter Thirty: Free If We Want It

#resident evil fic #resident evil fandom #resident evil fanfiction #chris redfield #albert wesker #resident evil #the devils teeth #albert wesker x you #albert wesker x reader #wesker x reader #dead by daylight wesker #s.t.a.r.s. wesker #s.t.a.r.s. #rebecca chambers #jill valentine #barry burton #brad vickers #resident evil x you #resident evil x reader #cw grief #series: the devil’s teeth

[queenxxxsupreme]

Defender, Protector, Keeper (Arthur Morgan x f!reader)

Part 10 

A/N: Thank you guys for being so patient with me!!! I really truly appreciate it!! Hopefully the next part will be out soon! The previous parts can be found here on my rdr2 masterlist

Warnings: angst, a little fluffy, missing child, nothing outside of canon, some spoilers for RDR2 Ch. 4 maybe?? next chapter will definitely have spoilers but with my twists

Word Count: 3.9k

Summary: Arthur does his best to find Benjamin, but when he can’t do that, he does everything he can to comfort you. 

By the time evening came, camp had been moved to a place known as Shady Belle. You didn’t want to leave the lake, to leave the last spot you had seen your son. But you had no choice. If you stayed, Agent Milton and his men would find the gang. 

Arthur was quiet as he helped you down from his horse. Neither of you had said much of anything to each other. You couldn’t speak and he didn’t know what to say. 

“Mr. Morgan? I’ve got your things in the bedroom above the stairs.” Grimshaw told him. “Miss Y/L/N, hon, Sadie and Karen have your things in the tent.”

You nodded and began to go towards your shared tent with the ladies. 

“Pumpkin, come stay with me.” Arthur spoke softly, his hand finding the space between your shoulders. “Please? At-At least until we find Ben.”

You looked in the direction of the tents. You knew very well you wouldn’t be able to sleep one bit. You were exhausted, but you wouldn’t be able to close your eyes until you had your son. If anything, you would risk keeping the girls awake with your ways, so perhaps staying with Arthur was the better option. 

“Okay.” You agreed. 

Arthur retrieved your two bags from the girls’ tent and brought it with him as he led the way to the room that would be his. 

He pushed the door open with his boot, then gestured for you to go in first. He placed your bags just inside of the door. He didn’t have time now to organize things. He needed to get a little bit of rest before leaving to search for the boys the following morning. 

You went to the window, your arms wrapped tightly around yourself. 

The glass had been broken out of it, giving you a perfect view of the backyard of the manor. 

“Pumpkin, I’m sorry.” Arthur couldn’t stop apologizing. There was a heavy weight from the guilt he carried because he couldn’t bring back either of the two boys. And perhaps if he hadn’t taken you away for the afternoon, the boys would still be there. You never let Ben stray too far from your sight. If he hadn’t taken you out for the afternoon, perhaps Ben would still be with you. Perhaps your heart wouldn’t be so broken. 

“If anything happens to him, Arthur….” Your voice was barely even a whisper. You shook your head gently. “I’ll never forgive myself.”

“Benny’s a strong boy, Y/N. And he isn’t alone. He’s got Jack with him.”

You wiped your cheeks, but it really was pointless. The crying had been on and off since you learned of your son’s disappearance. 

“He’s all I have, Arthur.”

“I know.” Arthur wanted to comfort you, to offer you his arms and his shoulder, but he didn’t want to smother you with his presence. 

So instead of hugging you like he so desperately wanted, he kept to himself. 

***

The night was restless for both of you. It was the first night that you had shared a cot with Arthur Morgan, but it wasn’t nearly as romantic as you had one day hoped it would be.

You couldn’t stay still long enough to relax and go to sleep. You had spent maybe ten minutes the entire night laying down. For the rest of the time, you were pacing the room, standing at the window, or sitting on the edge of the cot. 

Arthur stayed laying on the cot for most of the night, watching you or staring at the ceiling. Every now and then, the heaviness of his eyes would get the best of him and he would drift off. But then the floorboards would creak just a little while later as you changed your position in the room. 

Needless to say, neither of you got very much sleep. 

The sun had just started to come up. Arthur carried a cup of coffee for you in his hand as he made his way up the staircase. He had finished up a rather quick meeting with Dutch and Hosea to figure out what was going on. It was decided that Arthur would go into Saint Denis to ask about Angelo Bronte. 

While he didn’t want to leave you alone, he knew he had to get to work on finding the two lost boys for yours and Abigail’s sake. 

Arthur pushed the door to the room open with his shoulder, using his free hand to take his hat off. 

You were sitting on the edge of the cot holding one of Ben’s shirts in your hands. Your eyes were glued to the article of clothing as if it held the answers you were looking for. 

Arthur placed his hat and the coffee down on a chest. 

“Hey, pumpkin.”

Your eyes flickered up to meet his. 

It broke his heart to see you so teary eyed, and to see the look of complete heartbreak in your eyes. 

“I’m gonna go into Saint Denis and start lookin’ into that Angelo Bronte fella.”

You nodded, squeezing Ben’s shirt tightly.

Arthur knelt down in front of you on one knee. He placed one hand on the cot beside your leg and the other went to cup your cheek. 

“I will stop at nothin’ to bring him back to you, Y/N. It might not be today, but I promise you I won’t stop until he’s back here with you.”

You leaned into his hand that rested on his cheek. His skin was so warm. 

“I just need you to keep your head up, okay? You gotta do it for Ben, alright?”

“I-I just– I can’t loose him–,”

“You can’t think like that, Y/N.” Arthur murmured. “Benny needs his momma to be strong for him. And I know you can do that ‘cause you’re stronger than anyone I know. He just needs you to hold out for him so when he gets back, you got your head on your shoulders still.”

“Okay.” 

Arthur gave you the smallest smile. 

You wanted to smile back, but it took too much energy. 

You leaned forward to softly and briefly kiss his lips. 

“Thank you, Arthur.”

His smile widened just a bit as he looked at you. Then after a few moments he realized he was just gazing and cleared his throat. 

He stood to his full height, picking his hat up from the chest. 

***

The old boards beneath your feet creaked as you followed the sound of sobbing. 

It came from the room across from yours and Arthur’s, the one that the Martsons shared. 

“It’ll all be alright. I promise.” Karen said. 

You held on to your skirt, fingers curling around the material as you pushed the door to the room open. 

Sitting on the bed were Karen and Abigail. Abigail was in shambles, her head hung as she cried in her hands. Karen tried to comfort her, but it didn’t seem to be working. 

“Y/N, hey.” Karen greeted you softly. 

You looked at Abigail, your heart aching for her. You knew her pain. She was going through exactly what you were going through. She was in the same position as you. 

Abigail lifted her head upon hearing your name. 

You held her gaze for a few moments before she began to sob again. 

You turned your head to look out of one of the windows on the other side of the room. 

Your throat became itchy and your nose tingled as if you wanted to cry, but no tears came to your eyes. 

You messed with your fingers at your waist and bit the inside of your cheek. 

“Oh, Abigail.” Those were the only words you could get out, your voice cracking as you said her name. 

“Arthur and the guys will find Jack and Ben.” Karen insisted. “I know it has to be scary, but they will stop at nothing to find those boys.”

***

“Please come sit down with me and eat something, Y/N.” 

“I-I can’t, Hosea.” You shook your head, crossing your arms even tighter around yourself. 

You stood at the end of the small dock looking into the swampy water below. 

“I’m not hungry.”

“You haven’t eaten in a while. Gotta get somethin’ in you to keep you strong for when Benny gets back.” Hosea stood at the other end of the dock trying vainly to get you to join him back at the center of camp for a late dinner. 

“Hosea.” Sadie said his name as she approached you both. “Mind if I have a go?”

“Sure, sure.” Hosea nodded, taking a few steps away from the dock. “Thanks, Sadie.”

She nodded once and watched the old man make his way back to the caravans and tables. 

“Has Arthur returned?” You asked, though you already knew the answer. You hadn’t seen him ride into camp, and even if you had missed his return, he would’ve sought you out immediately to give you an update on what his day was like. 

“Not yet.” Sadie made her way down the dock to stand just behind you to your right. “Heard Dutch talkin’ to a few others. He might not be back tonight. A few of the fellers might not be back for a while. Arthur, John, and Charles. Hosea mentioned wanting to send Lenny and Javier out in the mornin’.”

Sadie paused for a moment to see if you would say anything. She couldn’t see your face since your back was still to her. 

“So since they ain’t gonna be back tonight, I reckon it’d be alright if you sat down for a little bit to eat somethin’.” 

“I can’t breathe, Sadie.” You whispered. “With- With Ben gone…. I can’t breathe. My chest is- There’s something keeping me from breathing. I didn’t feel this way even after I lost my husband.”

“I can’t imagine how it must feel, Y/N.” She spoke quietly. “But it ain’t doin’ Ben no good for you to stand here and wither away while he’s gone. You gotta keep yourself together ‘til he comes back.”

“I don’t know if I can do that.”

“You can.” Sadie nodded. “You did it for him when you lost your husband.”

“I-I’d lose him a thousand times over again if it meant I could get my son back.” You brought your hand up to rub the side of your face. 

Sadie put her hand on your shoulder. 

“I would do anything to get him back.” 

“I know.” Sadie nodded again. “Come on. Let’s go sit down for a little bit. The gators are gonna be comin’ out soon.”

***

Arthur brushed his hand along Ruby’s neck. 

“How’d it go, Arthur?” Kieran asked as he brought a flake of hay to Ruby. 

“Not how I wanted it to go, Kieran.” Arthur let out a breath. “Have you seen Y/N lately?”

“She was around here a little while ago. Keeps- She keeps wanderin’ around. Looks a bit lost, you know? Almost like a ghost.”

“Yeah, I know.” Arthur adjusted his hat as he moved away from the horses. 

“I hope you are coming to have some breakfast, Mr. Morgan.” Grimshaw spoke when he passed her. 

“Not yet, Susan. Gotta find Y/N first. Want to check on her.”

“She was upstairs last I knew.”

“Thanks, Susan.”

Arthur found you on the upstairs balcony that faced the backyard. Your hands rested on the rail folded together. Y/E/C eyes gazed blankly at the yard. 

Arthur pulled his hat from his head and took a few hesitant steps towards you. He cleared his throat and managed to get your attention. 

You turned your head, eyes falling upon him. 

“Mornin’, miss.”

“Good morning.” 

He messed with the brim of his hat for a few moments. 

“I found James Brady in Saint Denis, but haven’t found anything that links him to Bronte.”

“Did you confront him? James?” 

“No. Charles is keepin’ an eye on him from a distance until I can go back.”

You turned your head to look back over the yard. 

“We’re gettin’ close, pumpkin.” 

“I miss him, Arthur.”

“I know.” Arthur placed his hand on your shoulder. “I know.”

***

That Night 

“Just keep your head on.” Arthur spoke over his shoulder to John. 

“Should be tellin’ you the same. You been treatin’ Y/N’s boy like your own.”

Arthur grumbled a little under his breath but said nothing in return. 

“You took your time.” Dutch pushed the gate to Angelo Bronte’s mansion open. 

“Where’s your host?” Arthur looked around for the greasy Italian man. 

His eyes landed on young Jack Marston. The boy was racing towards John. 

“Jack!”

“Pa!”

“Like I said. You took your time.” Dutch said. “Let’s get going.”

“Wait a damn minute, Dutch. What about Ben?” Arthur turned to face the gang leader. 

“I’ll explain later–,”

“That bastard agreed to give us both boys if we did the job–!”

“Arthur!” Dutch raised his voice, cutting him off. “Now is not the time.”

Arthur looked back towards the house. There was movement in one of the windows. 

“It’s time for us to go.” 

“No.”

“What?”

“I ain’t leavin’ without him.” Arthur stubbornly shook his head. 

The front door opened and Bronte stepped out. With him were a half a dozen armed men and little Benjamin. 

Arthur stepped forwards but the armed men lifted their rifles and shotguns, preparing to stop the outlaw. 

“That wouldn’t be wise.” Bronte told him. 

“Just give me the boy so I can take him back to his mother.” Arthur spoke through clenched teeth. “She’s worried sick.”

“Oh, tell mother dearest that her son is better off here than in some filthy camp of rejects and lowlifes.”

Arthur’s hands curled into tight fists at his sides. Just as he was about to reach for his gun, Dutch was there to stop him, putting a hand on his arm. 

“We made a deal!” Arthur growled. 

“I have made deals and promises to others concerning your boy. Go now before your actions cost him his life.” Bronte said. 

Arthur looked down to Ben. He didn’t appear hurt, but he did look scared. 

“Everything’s gonna be alright, Benny.”

“Come on, Arthur.” Dutch pulled his arm one last time and finally got him to turn around. 

***

Just after getting to the outskirts of Saint Denis, the trio of horses came to a stop. 

Arthur jumped down from his horse, enraged that he wasn’t able to save Benjamin when the boy had been so close. 

“Why the hell didn’t we do anything, Dutch!” 

“And risk the lives of both Jack and Ben? Arthur, you have to look past your emotions–,”

“He was right there! We could’ve got him!”

“I understand your frustration, son. But I did what was right for the long run.”

Arthur ran a hand over his face then put his hands on his hips. 

“What am I-I gonna tell Y/N?”

“We haven’t given up, Arthur. We will get Ben back. Now come on.” 

***

Arthur watched from the horse station as Abigail embraced Jack. Members of the gang began to flock around them, eager to greet one of the youngest members of the gang. 

“Where’s Ben?” 

“What about Benji?” 

“Oh no.”

“You don’t think–,”

“Pipe down!” Grimshaw was quick to silence everyone.

All eyes turned to Arthur as he started to make his way towards the Shady Belle manor. 

From where you stood looking out of one of the upstairs windows, you had only seen Jack and John ride into camp first. Seeing Jack brought about an overwhelming feeling of joy and happiness. 

They were back! The boys were back! 

You didn’t hesitate to fly down the stairs and rush through the front doors of Shady Belle. 

As you made it out to the porch, the defeating silence across camp made you slow down. Why weren’t people cheering and celebrating the boys’ return? 

You looked around, brows furrowing together at all of the faces that turned to look at you. 

“Where’s Ben?” You asked.

“Y/N….” Arthur started, but he couldn’t seem to get his voice to work. 

Your eyes found him. 

Your heart sunk to the very depths of your gut. 

Your son wasn’t with him, and the only explanation that came to mind was the very last thing you had ever wanted. 

Arthur got to you just as you were about to collapse. Strong arms held you up as you fell limply towards the ground. 

“He’s–He’s gone!” You wailed, fingers latching on to his forearm and the front of his shirt. 

“Y/N, he’s not gone.” Arthur spoke calmly, trying to get your attention. You were already sobbing horribly, your body shaking and trembling as you gripped his forearm with immense strength. 

***

You were taken into one of the downstairs rooms of the manor where Arthur could then calm you down. 

As he sat on the edge of his seat and leaned in to wipe your cheeks, Dutch and Hosea walked into the room behind him. 

You stiffened up a little, taking a deep breath and straightening in your seat. 

“You said-said you saw him.” You whispered, your throat hoarse. “My Ben.”

“I did.” Arthur nodded once. “Saw ‘em with my own two eyes.”

“Why didn’t you bring him back to me?” 

“It wasn’t as easy as that, Miss Y/L/N.” Dutch stepped in, taking a seat at the table. “The important thing is that we haven’t given up on getting young Ben back.”

“Did Bronte give a reason for keeping Ben?” Hosea asked. 

“Only that he made promises to someone else about the boy.” 

You turned your head away, lips pressed together tightly. 

“It has to be him.” 

Arthur could see the anger on your face. 

“James Brady.” He said the name, pausing momentarily for you to confirm. When your eyes flickered back to his, he looked to Dutch. “Y/N thinks he could be behind this.”

“Ben’s father?” Hosea furrowed his brow. 

You stood up from the chair and paced away from the three men. 

“Did he- Did he even give you a chance to try to take him back?” You put one hand on your hip and the other went to the side of your face. 

“There wasn’t an opportune moment to do so, Y/N.” Dutch spoke calmly. “I didn’t want to risk anything happening to Ben.”

Tears brimmed your eyes as you took in his words. Your gaze flickered to Arthur. 

“Did he look okay?” Your voice trembled. 

“He didn’t look hurt. Jack said they been fed and treated good.” 

You wanted to be a little comforted by Arthur’s words. 

“Bronte invited us to a garden party in a few days, Y/N.” Dutch stood to his feet. “If you would like, I think you should come with us.”

You nodded your head. 

Dutch left the room, the front door to the manor closing behind him. 

“Keep your chin up, dear.” Hosea encouraged with a small hopeful smile. “We’re close.”

“Just doesn’t feel like it.”

“I know, dear. I know.” 

As he left, Arthur stood from his seat. 

“I-I’m sorry, pumpkin.” He couldn’t meet your gaze, so instead he looked at the floorboards just in front of you. “He was right there…. Ben was right there and I-I could’ve– I could’ve got him–,”

“But you didn’t, Arthur.” You murmured. He looked up at you, his breath catching in his throat. Were you angry with him? “You didn’t because it wasn’t safe.”

“N-no. It wasn’t.”

You nodded. 

A sudden boom of cheering just outside the window behind you made you jump. The gang was celebrating the return of Jack. 

A part of you was happy for Abigail and John. But that part of you was quickly consumed with the grief that weighed heavy on your heart. 

“I am tired, Arthur.”

Without another word, you slowly made your way upstairs to the room you shared with the outlaw. 

He listened to the old wooden floorboards creak with every step you took. 

Once the door to the room groaned shut, he sat down heavily at the table. 

Guilt formed a nasty pit in his gut. 

***

Arthur crept into the room, doing his best to make as little noise as possible. He had hoped maybe you did go to sleep. You surely needed to rest. 

But when he stepped into the room and closed the door, you were standing at the window looking outside. 

He took his hat off and took the weapons off of the holsters on his belt. 

“Are you upset with me? You got every right to be.”

“No.” You turned your head to look at him. “It wouldn’t be fair to be angry with you. You’ve been nearly runnnin’ yourself into the ground for my Ben.” 

Arthur looked downwards as he unbuckled his gun belt. 

“I’d do anything for that boy.”

“I know.” You nodded gently, tired eyes still watching him. “I know.”

“Wish there was more I could do.”

“Me too.”

Arthur moved to sit on the edge of the bed, running a hand over his hair. 

“I didn’t know I could feel like this.” You turned your attention back to the yard. “After my husband died…. The grief and…. pain and-and anger…. It was there. I felt it. Ben kept me going. I know he isn’t gone, but the thought of him being gone, even if he is safe…. It just….” You trailed off, shaking your head. “It makes life seem worthless.”

Arthur looked over the scars on his hands.

“You know I had…. I had a son.” 

You furrowed your brows together and turned away from the window to face him. 

He shook his head softly, the faintest of smiles coming to his lips. 

“He was a good kid.”

Arthur paused to look at the oil lamp that dimly lit the room. He brushed his jaw with his hand, then let out a soft breath. 

“I wasn’t a real father to him, you know. The one he needed. But he…. I did my best at the time. To lose a child…. I-I wouldn’t wish that pain on nobody.” His voice became a whisper as he shook his head. 

You quietly moved across the floor and then took a seat on the edge of the bed next to him. “I’m sure you were a really good dad to him, Arthur.”

The corners of his lips turned up just a little. 

“Oh, if you knew me back then, pumpkin, you wouldn’ta given me the time of day. I was a runaway train headed straight for a cliff. Still am, I suppose. If ya think about it…. If I was better, he’d still be around.” 

You put your hand on the back of his to offer him some sort of comfort. 

Arthur looked down at your head, then his eyes flickered up to meet yours through his lashes. 

“What was his name?”

“Isaac.” He put his opposite hand over top of yours. “Him and his momma were killed for ten bucks by a bunch of crooks no better than I am.”

“I’m so sorry, Arthur.”

“Happened a long time ago.” He gave the slightest shrug of his broad shoulders, as if the loss he experienced was somehow lessened with how much time had passed. 

“That means nothing. It still hurts the same, I’m sure.” 

“I only told you– Well, there’s lot I want to tell you…. But I told you right now ‘cause I need you to know that no matter what happens, I’ll do everything to bring him back to you.”

As Arthur finally turned his head to look at you, you held his gaze for a few moments. Your hand moved to the back of his shoulder.

“I know you will, Arthur.” You leaned your cheek against his shoulder. 

He hesitated, smiling gently down at you. Carefully, he put his head against yours and closed his eyes. 

Taglist: @thefirelordm @redpool @hc-geralt-23 @persephonehemingway @astra-onikisu @Purple-Tsuki @brenobikenobi @haleypearce @zeida @ackerman-19s @open--till--midnight @muraar @multifandomtrashpanda @chrysanthykios @6kaja9 @bitquirkydoe  @photo1030 @bluscryn @blushingskywalker @hc-geralt-23 @janebby

If your name is in italics, it wouldn’t let me tag you :(

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x reader fluff #arthur morgan x mom!reader #arthur morgan x mom reader #arthur x mom reader #arthur morgan rdr2 #rdr2 #red dead redemption2 #rdr2 fluff #rdr2 angst #queenxxxsupreme #defender protector keeper #arthur morgan series

[sillylittle-whumpwhumper]

hello!! Im new to this part of tumblr, but i wanted to try my hand at writing something :) its like 3:40am here so heres a little first part!!

(Thinking of a title!) Part 1

It was cold. It was winter, they were fairly sure. They’d started to lose track of time sitting here so long. And they were cold. They were shivering in their cage, with only a small amount of flimsy material to cover them, knees tucked up to their chest in a futile attempt to keep somewhat warm.

The day in the shop had been slow. They knew this because the sound of the door opening was the only sound that registered in their hazy mind, the only thing to break through their dissociative state. They knew the swoop of hope that ran through their heart when someone new came in was a lost cause, but they couldn’t help it.

As per usual, no one wanted them. No one wanted a pet too scrawny and starved to do any physical labor, no one wanted a pet covered in unattractive scars. No one wanted a pet so mentally far gone they couldn’t take orders normally and peacefully anymore. They were unsellable. Kept around in a cage on display only in favour of being put down.

The door opened once more. Their heart skipped a beat. They forced themselves to look up, their view of the door skewed from their position in the shop, but able to somewhat see who came in. From what they could see, the person walking in was a man probably in his thirties.

He had slicked back black hair, a smart, fitted dark blue suit and tie, and a blank, neutral expression on his face, his glasses sitting neatly on his nose. A shiny gold watch on his wrist was enough to indicate his wealth.

This wasn’t an unusual sight. Rich men and women were often seen with a pretty pet at their side, dressed in fancy frills with polite smiles and an “awe” factor. The cuter or prettier the better.

They slumped back in their cage. Men like this had no reason to even glance in their direction. They weren’t pretty, they wouldn’t look good by someone’s side. They were too damaged for that. That's what it said on their label. Damaged goods. They were sure they were rather cheap, but their price tag was yet to persuade anyone for them.

The shop owner went over to greet him as she did with every customer. She said a polite hello and shook his hand, asking him what he was looking for and offering to show him around all the pets for sale. They started to tune it all back out, knowing they wouldn’t get more than a disgusted glance their way. And even so the glance would have been an accident, men like that would never purposely look at trash like them.

The shuffling of feet was somewhat audible to them, but they focused their energy back on staying warm. The gust of wind as the door had opened made them shiver horribly, leaving them shaking still. What they wouldn’t give for a singular extra piece of material to help them stay warm. They’d cut off a limb if they had too.

A knock, a rattling of metal shook them from their haze once more. They jumped harshly, slamming their back into the cage.

“Oh. It is alive.” What a lovely, smooth and low voice this man had. Cold, also. For whatever reason, this grand man was crouching in front of their cage, having knocked on it to get their attention. For some reason, he was speaking to them. For some reason, he was looking at them. Was he going to mock them, perhaps? Simply sneer, enjoy the miserable view?

“What happened to it? Why is it so….damaged?” The man questioned, looking up at the shop owner. The shop owner shrugged, crossing her arms across her chest, “It’s been brought back a lot. Always beaten black or blue, or with wounds or a broken rib. I honestly just keep lowering its price in hopes someone is desperate for an extra cheap working pet.”

The man hummed. He glanced back at them again. What was he still doing there? They expected him to immediately stand back up and walk away, going to find a pretty, less damaged, and actually remotely useful pet to take home with him. But he hadn’t moved. He was simply watching them, as if something was clicking in his mind.

“Do you have a name, mutt?” The man asked. They were taken aback, the last thing they’d expected was to be talked to. Useless shit like them didn’t deserve to be talked to, especially not by such prestigious men. Had he made some sort of mistake.

But he didn’t waver. And after a moment of shock, a hand slammed down on the top of the cage, making them whimper. It was the shop owner, “He asked you a question. Answer.” She demanded.

They were shaking badly. They hadn’t spoken in so long. They hadn’t been given permission to speak in long enough they couldn’t remember when the last time was. Their voice would be horrible, speaking would be painful with how badly dehydrated they were, but they had to obey the order to speak and respond.

“I- im not sure, sir. I believe i- i had one l-long ago, but i am afraid i can-cannot remember…” Their voice is as rough and quiet as expected, pain searing in their throat as they forced the words out.

“I see. How long have you been here, mutt? From the very first time you were brought here.” The man asked, for whatever reason, still giving them his undeserved attention.

“I- i cannot remember that either, sir. I a- apolo- apologise. I believe it has been ma- many years, h-however…” They answered, forcing out the painful words as fast and clearly as they could.

The man nodded. Then, he slowly stood back up. Ah. He was done now. Well, that was expected. What an odd interaction. What had he wanted…? They did not know… but they would have plenty of time to sit here and think about it, a thought to try and distract them from the awful cold ravaging their thin form.

“Ill take it.”

…What? Surely the man wasn’t talking about them. The shop owner's eyes lit up. “You do? Fantastic! Would you like to purchase another, more well bred pet, also…?” She said, giving the man a curious and hopeful look.

He shook his head, “Not today. Just this one.” He said smoothly, running his hand over his jacket front as if to take out any creases. She nodded, “Of course. Ill go get the paperwork, and then we’ll let it out.”

Their heart was pounding out of their chest. This man…wanted them? Surely it was too good to be true? Had they perhaps fallen into a cold driven slumber, and this some sort of glorious dream? Or maybe they’d started hallucinating, delusions of someone so wonderful wanting them.

Anything but the unbelievable truth a man who could clearly afford a much higher price tag than their own, and whom was dressed so smart and sharply, so clean in comparison to their horrid dirtyness, wanting them.

It simply didn’t make any sense. They watched silently as the man filled out the necessary paperwork, their heart pounding loudly in their ears, their hands shaking heavily, waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the fantasy to end.

But it didn’t. And soon, the sound of a key sliding into the lock of their cage was heard, and the door slowly swung open with a creak. And waiting for them was the owner of their dreams.

And oh, how they couldn’t contain the hope that fluttered in their chest. And the horrible sense of paralysing, overwhelming fear that came with it.

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