#the stubble. the bruise. the general dishevelment...

[javisjeanjacket]

Cereal - (poe dameron x reader)

A/N: okay so one person voted for me to release Din content and one person voted for me to release Poe content  so I had Google pick a random number and it picked Poe’s number!! Yeehaw! 

welcome to part three of how hai copes with the 2020 election. (this is me celebrating my ass off :))

Word Count: 795

Warnings: implied smut, some making out, fluff, poe dameron is in it also and he deserves his own warning label

A lazy smiled played over your face as you sighed and ran a hand through your disheveled hair.

Poe chuckled beside you, his arm moving to wrap around your bare torso. His lips, swollen and pink from your tugging on them, pressed gentle kisses on your shoulder before nestling his face into the hot, sweet, curve of your neck. He sucked on your beating skin hungrily, pulling tight enough to bruise.

You reached a hand to run through his hair, the thick black strands standing out at odd angles from where your fists had curled into them. You leaned your face against his and pressed soft kisses to his sideburns. "You were different this time." You whispered.

Poe hummed on your skin and asked, "Different how?"

You sighed in contentment, the look of him in the moment replaying in your mind, his jaw slack and his big hands splayed across your trembling hips. "Different good."

His mouth sucked a new bruise on your neck and his hand tightened on your side. "Better than usual?" His tongue lapped at your bruised skin, soothing it momentarily.

You nibbled at his ear lobe and answered, "You tell me."

He pulled away from your neck, sitting so that you were able to look up at him through your eyelashes. Poe moved his hand from your side up to rest behind your neck. His fingers moved softly beneath the collar of the shirt you stole from his closet and his thumb rubbed up and down the curve of your neck. He leaned back to your lips, his mouth slotting smoothly in between yours. His tongue was wary, twisting around yours in a measured rhythm. He moved his lips as if he had already charted a course through the sea of your kisses, as if he had already memorized the waves of you and could tell his way home without ever needing a map.

When his breath was spent, Poe pulled his mouth from yours, a satisfying smack filling the quiet of his quarters. "Every time I think you can't get any better, you always prove me wrong." He whispered, his breath hot on your lips.

Your back left the mattress for a moment to press a few quick kisses to his lips and then returned as you replied, "I try."

Poe smirked and ran a hand through his thick hair, his hulking thighs resting on either side of your hips. "Which kind do you want tonight?"

You chuckled and leaned your head back on the pillow. "Hmm...how about Lucky Dice?"

Poe smirked, "Lucky Dice? Sweetheart, that's just a huge bowl of sugar."

You pushed a flat palm against his exposed abdomen. "Hey, it's," You peeked a look at the alarm clock sitting on Poe's nightstand. "2:45 AM. There are no rules at this time of morning."

Poe laughed and bent down to be closer to you, both of his hands running up your sides and stopping once the rested under your shoulder blades. "Oh, no rules, huh?"

Heat burned in your chest and you giggled. "Poe, stop! Will you please go get me a bowl of cereal?" You blinked your eyelashes dramatically.

The pilot sighed and pressed a few kisses to the warm skin on your collarbone. "How do you ask?" He began to suck on your skin, working on leaving yet another hickey for you to cover.

"Puh-lease?" You asked, drawing out the first syllable for emphasis.

Poe sat up once more. "Well, since you asked nicely." He teased, swinging his leg off of you and to the floor below. He picked his sweatpants off of the floor and pulled them over his boxers. With a hurried kiss to your forehead, Poe walked as quietly as he could to the Resistance Base Mess Hall.

When he returned to his quarters, two sloshing bowls of brightly colored marshmallows and glazed dice made of grain in his hands, you sat with your back against his headboard, the Holotransmitter remote in your hands.

You smiled at seeing him and reached for one of the bowls. "Thank you, baby." You said, carefully moving the bowl to your lap.

Poe walked carefully, making sure to roll his feet, and walked to the opposite side of the bed. He sat the bowl down on his nightstand before climbing under the comforter. "What are we watching tonight?" He asked, slowly moving the bowl of cereal to his lap.

"Aalderan's Funniest Home Videos." You smirked.

Poe nodded as he took a spoonful of the the milky sweet food in his mouth. "Great choice."

You smirked and reached over to wipe the dribbling milk from the stubble on his chin. "What ever am I going to do with you?"

He swallowed his mouthful and replied, "Well, I have some idea of what we could do together."

GENERAL TAGLIST: @mcolbz14​ @softly-sad​

#poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x y/n #hai writes #poe dameron fluff

[imperial-martian]

Broken & Bruised ][ Armitage Hux x Reader ][ Part Three

Author’s Note: I’m sorry with how long this took. Editing is hard and school sucks, nothing more to it, except that I was also traveling in early February (before the virus was a huge thing). So, here is part three, and although I pretty much have everything planned out- all seven chapters of the story -I might add one later on if I think I need more time or detail. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this part of Broken & Bruised!

Trigger Warnings: interrogation, physical violence, mentions of verbal abuse, many conflicted feelings, thoughts and emotions, angst with no fluff at all

PART ONE, PART TWO, PART THREE, PART FOUR

Tags: @songforhema, @edmunds-torch, @christmasallyearsthings, @indelwen-of-mirkwood, @agirlinherhead, @runhbo, @redsacrament, @lafy-taffy, @khaleesi-of-assassins, @dath23321, @fangirl570, @ahsfan23, @ah-callie, @aestheticcomatose, @starrmoondaisy, @thekeywordisbalance, @the-avid-book-reader, @coralsin, @thuutthuutbilly, @hoki-lokison, @stareyedplanet, @steve-thotgers, @llama259

You flinched as Poe's first collided with Armitage's stubbled jaw for the second time. The impact had caused the General's head to snap to the side, admitting a small crack from the force- nothing that could be permanently damaging to him. The well-known Resistance pilot was getting ready to connect his fist to Armitage's face again when you took a step forward and placed your hand upon his shoulder gently, unable to watch what would have been inevitable had you not stopped Poe.

You silently whispered the pilot's name, not wanting to come off too strong to anger the man further, however, your whisper came off strong enough to gain the man's attention. Poe's gaze traveled from Armitage to you, unclenching his first when he saw you look from him to Armitage.

"Let me talk with Hux," you suggested, not dropping your gaze from Armitage. His ginger hair was all out of order, and he looked beaten and scuffed, an unpleasant sight to see- especially as a nurse who was supposed to be healing him. "Please, just let me talk with him."

Poe shifted his gaze from you to Armitage, taking note of the blood that dripped from the cut on the ginger's bottom lip. His gaze followed the drop of blood that traveled down to Armitage's chin and was stopped by the stubble that had grown over the past few weeks. The ginger hair collected the deep red- almost maroon -color of the blood, acting almost like a dye.

A moment passed before, with a huff, Poe shook his hand to alleviate the slight sting. He wiped the blood off his hand and onto the tan-colored pants that he was currently wearing. Once he finished, he turned so that his back was facing Armitage, then he tilted his head to look at you over his shoulder. He accessed you for a moment, giving a firm nod when he finished. Walking towards the door, he said, "go ahead."

You gave Poe a thankful smile, trying your best to make it as reassuring as possible. You then turned to a guard that stood at attention by the metal doors, directing him forward. "Bring Poe to the medbay and ask a nurse to attend to his hand to be sure there are no fractures, although unlikely it is still possible," you explained, giving the guard his orders in a gentle tone, feeling no need to express any authority for this situation.

The guard nodded before he walked towards the metal doors, watching them slide open before he took a step to the side and allowed for the pilot to walk out first. Poe passed the guard, however, he stopped before he exited the room and turned to you one more time.

"Be careful with him," he warned, not waiting for a reply. He was out the door and walking towards Rey, Finn, and Rose who had all been looking over the interrogation with General Organa. She was stood in front of everyone else, her eyes focused on the General that sat bound to the chair and table. Her stance was firm, hands clasped behind her back and finger twitching with the itch to grab her blaster any moment she felt necessary.

You took a second to watch them before Poe left them to head to the medbay, then, with a soft breath, you turned to the disheveled man that sat only a few feet away. You walked towards the table, taking the seat across from Armitage and crossing your arms over your chest, hugging them to your body as if ready to defend yourself if needed. You needed to be on guard, no matter how much you wanted to believe he wouldn't try anything.

A dark shadow seemed to cast over the opposing General's green-blue eyes, the usually crystal colored eyes were now dark and foggy. It caused an uncomfortable shift in the room.

A moment passed before anybody had spoken, but just as you went to open your mouth to say something, Armitage spoke first.

"I refuse to talk with those scum standing outside the door," he started, nodding his head to the clear window. "If you wish to speak to me, we will do such activity alone," his tone was sharp, letting everybody know that unless his request- or rather his command -was met, he would not say a word. Although typically a patient man, Armitage seemed to have very little patience left.

For a moment you sat there, biting your lip in thought until finally you gave him a soft nod and stood to walk towards the door. The remaining guard stood stiff still until you began to speak to him, explaining to the man that you'd like for him to inform the others that you'd wish to speak with Hux alone, and for him to stand at least ten feet away from the door so that if anything happened- although you knew nothing would -you'd yell.

The guard had given you a nod full of reluctance before he walked out of the room, hesitant to lock the door and leave you alone with a man who's given a command to kill billions. Eventually, the door was closed and the guard made his way over to General Organa. Minutes passed, and so did words between the two until Leia's gaze shifted to you through the glass window. She looked you over, and with great difficulty, agreed to allow you some time alone to interrogate Hux. She knew that if she didn't ultimately agree to his commands nothing would come out of the interrogation and time would be wasted.

The Resistance General looked over your shoulder to the opposing General, and with narrowed eyes, assessed him before she spun on her heel. She must have asked the others to follow her because within seconds they were all walking away from the room, leaving you alone with Armitage.

A breath left you, of relief or of fear you couldn't tell. You were now facing Armitage, standing a few feet away with your bottom lip between your teeth in thought. You took a few strides forward until you were once again sitting across from the ginger-haired man. Instinct had taken over, and without being able to stop yourself you had leaned forward and were gently chipping off the blood which had dried around his lip. You were careful to not touch the exact spot where the cut had been made, but you were thorough in removing most of the dried blood that you could.

Armitage has closed his eyes at the touch. He was holding his breath and he only released it once he realized your gentle touch could no longer be felt. He opened his eyes and instantly, he had connected his gaze to yours. Armitage knee that you were silently scolding yourself, asking why you had done that.

This was no time to allow your instincts as a nurse to take over, what is supposed to be a tense and threatening moment. Clearing your throat, you sat up straight with your back pressed tightly against the metal chair you sat in.

"Alright, Armitage," you started, leaning forward so that you were prepared to continue. "I'll have to ask you a few questions-"

You were interrupted instantly, and startled by the sudden disruption to your thoughts, you shut your mouth and looked at Armitage.

"I sincerely hope you do not believe I will truly answer every, if not any, questions you have for me simply because it is only you and I now," he stated. He was leaning back in the chair as casually as he could with his hands cuffed to the center of the table. It was hard to be comfortable like this, and it was even harder to be intimidating without being able to cross his arms, but he used his voice to get his point across.

You weren't surprised by his words. You knew better than to believe he would so willingly give you answers. "I would never be so stupid to think that you would so willingly give any answers, however, that reply does bring me to my first question. Why did you ask that the others leave if you aren't planning on answering the questions I ask?"

Armitage sighed, "I didn't ask for us to be left alone so that I could answer questions. You know that though, don't act foolishly. I'd never give you rebel scum answers so freely."

You had to admit that his words, although true to him, stung. It was no hidden secret that Armitage held a low value to the Resistance, so you didn't know why you assumed that Armitage would have thought anything different of you.

"I had asked for us to be left alone because you are the least threat to me. I have no need to fear that you would harm me in the spur of the moment. You not only don't have a weapon," he explained, nodding to your waist as if to signal at the blaster that was not there. "But you are also a healer, you couldn't bring yourself to kill me even if you wanted to."

You scoffed, "and what makes you so sure about that, Armitage?" you asked, your arms crossed.

Armitage grinned. "I have yet to see you handle a weapon. Not a blaster, not a blade, not even a staff. Even the other nurses are cautious enough around me to wield a blade," he explained. "I know you don't have one hidden. I'm no fool, believe me. I'm much more observant than people make me out to be."

You took a moment to process everything he said. He was right, you didn't hold any weapons on you, you never did. You were a nurse, it felt wrong to hold a weapon meant to kill when you were assigned to do the opposite.

"Is this your way of telling me that you plan to attack me?" you questioned. The answer was evident, he wasn't. He wouldn't plan such an action when he knew he'd be taken down the minute it was set into motion.

Armitage cocked a brow and looked at you, a grin plastered on his face. You know the answer, he was sure. He felt no need to waste his breath on verbalizing what was so painfully obvious.

You shifted, sighing, and then deciding that it was best to start what was meant to minutes ago. You folded your hands and placed them on the table, leaning forward before you wasted any more time than you already had.

"I’m going to start asking you questions now,” you mumbled. It was rather pathetic how weak you made yourself seem in that moment. A Resistance nurse was about to interrogate the First Order General and had no idea what to ask.

“What is the title of the ship you command?” you asked, deciding you begin with basic questions and build up from there. They were questions that had been asked before, but it was best to clarify.

Armitage smiled, a sinister smile as if to tell you he was not impressed by this already. “The Finalizer,” he answered simply.

You nodded, straightening out and asking him another question to which he replied with a broad answer. The next few questions were simple and small, with no problems arising as you asked them. A moment of silence had taken over as you scribbled his latest answer on a piece of paper that had been left on the table. Every question was broad and had no real benefit to the Resistance. It was nothing that they didn’t already.

“Question six,” you said, “are there any planned attacks against the Resistance that had been confirmed to take place soon?” you asked. It was a stupid question. Nobody would answer it directly unless they were a fool, and that was not Armitage Hux.

You paid close attention to the General’s features, hoping to spot a slight twitch of the finger, or slight shift of his legs, or even a blink that lasted a moment too long. Something that would tell you enough that his answer- which would so obviously be ‘no’ -was a lie.

You had caught Armitage shifting his gaze around the room, but took no note of it when his sharp green-blue eyes caught your own as if holding them in place so that you could not look away. His stare- which looked cold and lifeless -caused your breath to catch in your throat. It caused goosebumps to arise on your skin and to crawl up your neck. It sent a shiver down your spine and he made you feel trapped.

His answer was nothing like what you had been expecting, and it showed you the power that the First Order held. That he held because no man would answer that question the way he did. No one except a man who didn’t fear to lose. A man who knew they wouldn’t lose.

“There are.”

The breath that had been caught in your throat was released all at once with so much force that you nearly choked. You hadn’t choked, but rather gripped the edge of the desk and leaned forward again. Urging yourself to lift your head up, you met his gaze again in search of any hope he was lying. You had hoped he was, although you knew he wasn’t.

Panic flooded through your body, your veins and arteries, every bit of you, and in the moment you stood up with such urgency that the metal chair slid back and tilted till it fell to the floor. Your attention wasn’t shifted to it, and instead, you paced back and forth, a common practice that helped you think when with a patient.

You paused. “The attack,” you started, “when is it planned?” you questioned, glancing at him as you began to walk back and forth once again. You wondered if he’d be so honest as to answer that too.

“I’m not sure,” he said simply. He was in no mood to actually continue this interrogation. “Even had I known, I wouldn’t have told you. It would be pointless. They are far too strong to be stopped with the number of casualties you have been dealt over the last two years.”

He was honest and forward, and never sugarcoated what he meant. Armitage was born into this war and he was no doubt ready to win it.

You gritted your teeth, the panic you felt now turning into anger. You should’ve expected that reply, but you had hoped that it would have been different.

“Damn it,” you muttered. This was not how you wanted this interrogation to go. You hadn’t expected it to go so sour so soon, but it had and you couldn’t help but feel frustrated.

Armitage rolled his eyes, leaning back and staring up at the ceiling. “Don’t act like you had a chance,” he said, causing you to snap your head towards him. “You got your hopes up since you captured me. That’ll be your downfall. All of you thought that because you had found me and taken me, that I’d be tortured into giving you all of our—”

“Shut up! Just shut up Armitage!” you yelled, your fist clenched at your side. “Don’t you get it?” you asked.

“Get what?” he asked sharply. “What don’t I get?”

“Don’t you realize why we fight this war? We fight this war for our friends, our families! Don’t you know what it’s like to have them and to want to—”

He rolled his eyes and a growl like sound erupted from his throat. “It’s nothing worth fighting for in my eyes!”

You were shocked by his answer. Your eyes had gone wide and the anger had grown once more. The realization came through to you. Armitage Hux cared for nobody but himself. You shook your head and scoffed.

“You’re- you are insufferable,” you shouted, pacing back in forth in front of him in anger. “God, you are-”

“Useless?” Armitage offered. It was random and out of the blue, but he needed you to understand that not everybody is worth fighting for. At least not to him. “It’s not very original,” he said spitefully. “I've been told it before, but it’s a sufficient enough insult for the situation,” he stated casually as if he wasn’t bothered by anything he had just said.

You had frozen once again. Guilt and sorrow building up in your chest, replacing the anger and shock that was once there. You turned your head to access at Armitage.

His head was leaned back, eyes towards the ceiling even though they were closed as if he were holding back tears when in reality, he had cried so much over the years that no tears remained.

“Armitage... Armie,” you choked, realizing your mistake. Everything you had felt earlier seemed to instantly switch. Now, you wanted nothing more than reach out to him and hug his waist, to apologize even though you know you shouldn’t, even though just a second ago you were so angry at him you felt like strangling him. Those feelings- the realizations! -be damned.

Armitage scoffed and opened his eyes the minute you poke that horrid name. He was looking directly into your eyes with his dark ones. “You have no right to utter my first name in any form. Stop acting as though you’ve ever cared. You fooled me twice already, I’ll be damned if you did it again.”

You looked at him, eyes wide and confused. You were about to speak when he shook his head and did so first.

“How can you act kind and caring towards me then in the very next minute stab me in the back?” he asked, the hurt evident in his voice. His General facade was slowly slipping from his firm grip. “You were concerned last night for my well being, doing your best to nurse me back to health, and just now you throw insults at me. Was that General Organa’s order too?”

You felt sick. You couldn’t even be angry at Armitage because all that he had said were true. You were toying with him. Playing every single emotion he had shown and snapping them like a string on a guitar.

“Do you think so little of yourself?” you finally asked. You moved to pick up the chair so that you could across from him again. Looking at him intently, you reached to the center of the table and took his restrained hands in yours.

It was Armitage’s turn to be surprised, not shocked, not startled, but surprised. The question had caught him off guard, and a few moments had passed before he eventually replied. “I’m not sure what I think of myself. The opinion I hold over my head wavers every day.”

You lowered your head and frowned. “Then I apologize for adding onto the doubts. You’re words, although harsh, we’re true. I deserve no respect from you,” you expressed, letting out a small breath before standing. “I’ll inform the others that I have gotten little results besides the planned attack mentioned,” you explained, looking at the door.

Walking away from him was so hard to do, perhaps because you knew his death was inevitable now that he refused to share any of the First Order’s secrets. Although Armitage was an enemy, he had been nothing short of pleasurable up to this point, no matter what the weight of his past had put on his shoulders.

The guilt of not being able to help him any longer and the regret of feeding into his insecurities with your words chewed you from the inside out. Tears clawing at the back of your throat and threatening to spill. “Have a nice day, Hux,” broke through the silence in a shaky exhale, chipping at a piece of your heart, and breaking the rest of Armitage’s facade.

One of the few people Armitage had ever harbored any attachment- though very little -towards, had walked away like all the rest. That moment last night had been the closest thing to what he assumed love was that he had ever felt, and the memory, along with everything else, was shattered just a second ago when you walked out the door.

#general armitage hux x reader #general armitage hux #general armitage hux series #general hux x reader #general hux #general hux series #armitage hux x reader #armitage hux #armitage hux series #hux x reader #hux #hux series #star wars #star wars x reader #star wars series #resistance reader #nurse reader #resistance x first order #angst #no fluff in this one #broken & bruised #part three

[katianegreyson]

Birthday Bash!

[Warning: Contains mild gore and violence. Read at your own risk.]

She had been back in the city for over a week, yet remained homebound. She had watched the fervor of activity from her apartment window. People flowing through the pathways below, growing bolder as the sunset. Nightlife in the Mage Quarter was always questionable. Drunken behaviors that often resulted in walks of shame out of the alleyways. Fights. Loud tirades. Those manicured lawns housed quite the show, one she wasn't always so hesitant to join in some small part.

However, melancholia had taken root, as it often did after her trips to the mountains. Too many memories, not to mention, the painful reminder of someone's absence. It generally took a week or so before the urge to stop staring at the empty pages of a journey book or out a window took hold. A small span of hope and optimism before reality sunk in once more. Not even time spent in her aerial silks sped up the process or eased her state of mind.

She put off rejoining civilization for as long as possible. In the end, it was the barren state of her pantry that drove her to dastardly things like putting on pants and running a brush through her hair. Sadly, society demanded she not be bare-assed and disheveled looking. Well, most of society. She knew a few who wouldn't complain.

It was early morning when she finally left her apartment, the predawn hour promising her the best choices at the city market. What was the saying? The early bird gets the worm.

Well, this bird wanted steak and eggs.

And bacon. Lots of bacon.

As she descended the steps to the small shop beneath her apartment, it was impossible to miss the brightly wrapped package left for her. The bow was enormous and the counter the box rested on was covered in a gods awful amount of glitter.

Kate loosed a long sigh. Of course her birthday wasn't missed by the proprietor. Such information was required in the rental contract. If it were up to her, she would spend the day like any other. Clearly, her landlord had different ideas. It was as if she could hear her voice, telling Kate in a motherly, (nosey) overbearing tone.

"A birthday should be cherished and celebrated."

Knowing she would be faced with far worse repercussions than a mild annoyance if she ignored the box, Kate huffed out a curse and walked over to the damn thing. Lifting the lid, she found the inside stuffed full of tissue paper in the most obnoxious pinks known to man. Shaking her head, she peeled layer after layer, silently cursing the woman until the last piece of paper was pulled free.

A sharp inhale was Kate's only outward sign of the sight within. No fancy bauble or awful outfit she would have to wear. This was far more personal.

The woman she had been cursing moments before stared back at her with milky dead eyes, a look of pure horror frozen onto her face. Jagged shreds of flesh were spread out at the neck, looking as if it was torn rather than cut cleanly off.

The head rested on a pile of roses, a gruesome message she understood all too well.

Why couldn't things just stay dead these days? 

Floorboards creaked softly behind her, a moment later, quietly letting her know she wasn't alone and the 'guest' was an amateur.

She should have just stayed home.

The sound of a single shot echoed through the empty pathways of The Quarter. While sound would have been drowned out later in the day, the early hour drew unwanted attention to the thunderous boom.

Standing outside the shop that prided itself on pyrotechnics, Maddox sucked in the last drag of his cigarette, flicking the spent butt away. The sound reached him the moment the occasional vice fled his fingertips. Poor timing, or perhaps perfect, and the man dove for it. He was after all smoking near a place that was combustible.

The sudden boom led him to assume the worst. Moments later, when he realized he was still in one piece, more or less, he pushed himself up and began cursing someone's mother. Grass stains clashed with his token grease stains, not that he cared. The noise wasn't a concern either until the sounds of a struggle carried his way.

Lads being lads, likely. At least that is what he thought until he heard the telltale shrieks of a woman.

"Fuck…"

His apathy was overshadowed by his protective nature in an instant. Taking off in a sprint, he followed the muffled sounds of conflict through the manicured walkways. Twists and turns didn't help. Fucking city layout.

When the noise died down, Maddox feared he was too late. Lost in a maze of purple rooftops and decorative fescue. It wasn't until he skidded around a corner that he caught sight of the group of men, fighting to load a bound and gagged redhead into a wagon.

She was giving them hell, small little thing, covered in blood and full of fight. Every time they got close to loading her, she wriggled in the most awkward way possible, causing one of the four brutes to lose their grip. It wasn't until one genius used the butt of his gun to deliver a well-placed blow to her head. It didn't knock her out, but she was stunned enough to go limp.

Maddox wasn't confident that he could take on four men, even if a pair looked wounded. So, he improvised.

Pulling out a stick of dynamite from the bag at his hip, he lit the long braided fuse and shouted to bring attention to himself.

"Oi! How about we put the lass down, eh?" He was walking closer, slowly. "Nice and easy. Then you can leave with what pieces she left you with. Or… I can blow all those pieces up."

"Got to tell ya, I personally would prefer to not spend the tail end of the morn being scraped into a glass jar."

Waving the explosive, Maddox eyed the dwindling fuse, sparks flying as time ticked away. "Tick tock, lads. What's it gonna be?"

There was no nice and easy as they dropped their prisoner, the lawn doing little to cushion the fall. A glaring sneer came from who he assumed was the leader as he pointed with his chin to the lass on the grass.

"You bought her a day, tops. C'mon boys. We can come back later." Clearly they didn't want to deal with an audience. Though as they left, a careful eye was kept in case they had a mind to beat his ass.

Maddox waited until the last few seconds, after the quad of men was long gone, before he pulled the fuse free of the explosive cylinder. Tossing the sparking twine into the grass, tucking the rest of the stick in his back pocket, he went to see to the woman he just saved. From what, he wasn't sure.

With his luck, she might be more hazardous to his health than the men who tried carting her off. Fate was a bitch that way.

"Did you have to bite me when I pulled the gag free?"

Kate didn't answer at first, walking sorely to her bathroom, the bruises she earned making her body ache with every step. Pulling the length of silk free from the mirror, she looked at the sorry state she was in. Busted lip, bruised and bleeding temple. The blood had already started to cake and congeal in her hair, matting it to the side of her head.

Ripping off the sleeve to her bloodied shirt, she uncovered the bullet hole she had been gifted with, if it could really be called that. The shot hadn't buried a bullet in her flesh, but it was too deep to really be called a graze.

She was going to need stitches. First, she was going to need coffee. The blow to the head hurt worse than the wound on her arm, the pain making her nauseous. That alone was a sure sign of the damage it wrought. Sleep was now the enemy.

Grabbing a clean towel, she ripped the absorbent cloth into a few thin strips, shouting out to her guest or... savior.

"There is whiskey in the bedside table. Bring it to me."

Muttering as he fetched the bottle, Maddox brought it to her, standing in the bathroom doorway as he passed it over. He was older than Kate, his salt and pepper hair cropped short. He didn't boast a beard in the traditional sense. Just a thick stubble that shaded his face.

His skin was weathered, Kate's guess was from the sun or some manner of heat. He carried it well, the deep lines adding character to his face rather than make him look old. His eyes, however, were his most striking feature. Shadowed by his darker brow, the pale blue stood out like pools of ice, yet they held none of the expected coldness. Just warmth and compassion.

"Probably not the best time to drink, lass." He commented, catching the look she gave him in the mirror.

"You're not my father or my husband. And while I do appreciate the assistance, it doesn't mean you're suddenly entitled to tell me what to do." Her tone wasn't harsh, just a matter of fact.

Nodding to her words, he shrugged. "Fair enough."

Despite her pointed remark, none of the whiskey made it to her lips once the bottle was opened. Instead, it was poured over her wound. Kate pursed her lips, but the groan of pain and displeasure was hardly muffled.

When she finally spoke through clenched teeth, it was to complain about the waste of good whiskey. Seems she would have rather drank it than use it as a disinfectant before she worked to bandage her arm.

It took her a few clumsy attempts, her guest clearly knowing better than to offer assistance at the moment. Finally, though, she tied the thin strips in place, tying them off and tightening the knots with her teeth.

As she turned, she nodded her thanks and sighed, knowing she was about to ask too much of a stranger.

"Don't suppose you would be kind enough to not mention this to the guard. Chances are, they were bribed to patrol elsewhere. I have a feeling my landlord's death would be easily pinned on me. Would rather not get thrown in The Stocks."

Maddox furrowed his brow. "Dead landlord?"

"Yeah. Her head is gift wrapped downstairs. Literally." She admitted honestly.

Scratching his stubble jaw as he grimaced, he shook his head. "Lass, I don't know what you're into. But smells like deep shit. You sure you don't want to involve the authorities?"

Kate nodded but it was clear the movement brought on a wave of discomfort. Gingerly touching her temple, she felt the abused flesh trickling with fresh blood. Head wounds were a bitch.

"Alright. I'll keep out of it. I take it you've got things handled now?"

It was a polite way to excuse himself and get the hell out of dodge. One she thankfully indulged.

"Mhm." She hummed, waving him towards the door. "Thanks again…"

"Maddox." He finished when she gave him a look to let him know she hadn't caught his name.

"Maddox." She repeated, following up with her own simple introduction. "Kate."

"Stay out of trouble then, Kate." Pointing to her bloodied shirt. "Not gonna die when I leave, right?"

Looking down, she saw more blood soaked into the fabric. Luckily, it wasn't anything to worry about.

"No. Not mine. Compliments of one of my abductors."

There was a grunt of acknowledgment as he waved his farewell, vanishing through the door and closing it quietly behind him.

Alone again.

She waited until she couldn't hear him beyond the door, wanting to make sure he was gone. The moment silence fell, Kate sank down to her knees, letting the pain that she had hidden consume her. She was too stubborn to show weakness in front of another.

Alone, however, she could be hurt and broken all she wanted.

Introducing: Maddox E. Zale

Following the story arc of #Fallen Roses.

#happy birthday #writings #fallen roses #what's in the box?!

[allthetrek]

A Stranding, A Crash Landing - Chapter 5

Chapter 1: Going Down Swinging

Chapter 2: The Man Beneath the Uniform

Chapter 3: Call Me Christopher

Chapter 4: Pale Blue Dots

Chapter 5: Liquid Gold

Captain Pike and the reader get stranded on a Class L planet. With no guarantee of rescue, they must adapt to life together in their new environment. Eventually, formalities and professional boundaries fall away, leaving room for a more personal connection to flourish. (Action/adventure, romance)

Just one more fused power relay to replace… You probe the metallic piece into the groove inside the replicator access panel, and it snaps into place like a puzzle piece. Perfect fit. Good thing too, because that was the last of your spare parts. Fingers crossed the unit works now! You and the Captain can’t live on ration packs forever, and your supplies are dwindling by the day.

Speaking of the Captain… Christopher watches you from his cot toward the rear of the ship, marvelling at your skill with a decoupler. His chest twinges with guilt at being bedridden since the two of you crash landed on this desolate rock. He’s a Starfleet trained, battle-hardened, experienced officer, and here he is completely at your mercy to help him recover, and to repair the ship so you can both survive.

“Moment of truth!” you exclaim with a hopeful smile, snapping him out of his dismal thoughts. His lips pull into a weak smile and he gives you a slight nod, as your index finger taps the activation panel on the unit. Light floods the control panel, the replicator coming alive before your eyes, and your eyes illuminate, partially a reflection of the lights before you, but mostly you’re just so happy something is finally going your way! The past several days have been hell, and you’ve been feeling the pressure. Your distress beacon has still gone unanswered, and Christopher’s condition worries you, though you try not to let it show. You know he’s worried, too.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” you squeal, overcome with relief, and the Captain watches your reaction, stoic in his state, though his smile tugs further across his handsome, stubbled face. Seeing you happy, your eyes sparkling in the ambient lighting, stirs something in him, something he hasn’t felt in a long time…

You run a quick diagnostic on the unit and it appears everything is in check. You scroll through the replicator’s sustenance options, not seeing quite what you’d had in mind for you and the Captain. Your fingers tap furiously on the screen of the older model, generations behind the replicators standard to Constitution-class starships like the Enterprise, and you enter a new program.

Minutes later, the unit materializes your meal, and you pull out two chrome bowls of steaming noodle soup, just what the doctor ordered. Well, what you ordered, technically. Christopher grunts with exertion and pain as he adjusts himself in bed, sitting up as you approach him. He manages to swing his legs over the edge of the bed, perching himself precariously on the edge, but luckily he’s feeling strong enough to stay upright this time.

You hand him the noodle soup, and the aromatic vapors permeate the air around him. “Thank you,” he says appreciatively, accepting your offer gladly. You smile warmly in response, sitting across from him on your cot, and you begin to eat your dinner with the large metal spoon that came submersed in the flavorful, nutritious suspension.

The two of you eat, glancing at each other occasionally, with not much else to look at besides the person across from you. The Captain looks weary and dishevelled, his hair askew and the salt-and-pepper stubble of days gone by a stark contrast to his usually clean-shaven, well-kept appearance. He remains shirtless, with red and purple bruising branching out from beneath the large bandage on his side. He looks vulnerable, debilitated, though the strength of a man with endless resolve shines from his striking blue eyes. He’s determined to get through this. There’s no way he’s leaving you to survive out here by yourself.

You notice the determination in his eyes as his gaze meets yours, his peripheral vision scanning your appearance in reciprocation. Your hair is amiss, yet the messy, tousled look of it appeals to him on some level. Your eyes convey the same kindness and compassion that’s been pulling him through these hellish days of injury and infection. He can’t help but notice your bare shoulders, your figure, and other things about you he never thought of before… But now, lying in bed all day, with you as his only company, you’ve begun to fill his thoughts…

“How is it?” you ask him, breaking the comfortable silence and pulling Christopher once again from his thoughts. You raise your spoon a little, gesturing that you’re inquiring about the quality of your meal.

“It’s… Perfect. It tastes like home,” he replies sincerely. Indeed, it reminds him of home, both on Earth and on the Enterprise, of comfort and security. With each spoonful of the liquid gold, he feels his strength and hope slowly returning.

“Good. It’s my own recipe. Well, I mean I programmed it myself,” you state with a grin. It’s been ages since you cooked from scratch, but you sure can program a replicator. Imagine creating a recipe down to each particle, balancing the flavor at the molecular level.

Your sweet smile and warmth radiate through Christopher, and he realizes it’s not the soup that’s making him feel so much better… It’s you.

* * * * * * * * * *

Notes: Chapter 6 - Find out what’s in the containment module + first kiss w Pike, Chapter 7 - smut, Chapter 8 - bittersweet rescue

@angel-with-wings-castiel @bold-brave-courageous @space-helen @queenleylas @boundless-fandoms @luminous-night-sky @claireelizabeth85 @carrie-85 @startrekxpike @captain-christopher-pike @magic-with-a-kick @oddduckthatgirl

#captain pike x reader #captain pike #christopher pike x reader #star trek fan fiction #star trek discovery fan fiction #fan fiction #captain pike imagines #star trek imagines #writeblr

[foxydivaxx]

Project Titans Chapter 1

What would it take for the Robins and the Titans as a whole to reunite? Well this....

Oswald sighs as he downs yet another bottle. Project Titans was an awesome dream

So there we go. I edited this chapter again.

#dick grayson #richard grayson #nightwing #robin #dc #dcu #dc comics #fanficiton #barbara gordon #batgirl #damian wayne #bruce wayne #batman #batfamily #terry mcginnis #batman beyond #jason todd #red hood #tim drake #red robin #dc popstar au #teen titans #titans #young justice

[the-writer-ofthe-fandoms]

Nothing Expected (DBD Michael Myres)

Pairing: DBD!Michael Myers/Reader Words: 2,330+ Warning(s): Murder obv, blood, assult A/N: honestly just wrote this to get over writers block and get some frustration out :) dont worry nthing is happening that is too bad, just my internal feelings about someone in my life being an ass. also im a slut for michael myers and the DBD characters Beware!! This will probably be WAYYY out of character! Also I was inspired by from @cgi-monster and @lovethemurderer so I suggest checking their blogs~

   You sat at the campfire along with everyone, waiting for the next trail to start at any time. You sat between your two good friends Meg and David, while listen to Bill speak of his life. His stories always drew you in due to the sheer fact of him coming from a world different from yours.

   "Then, the asshole set off the alarm and we had to fight in the church. Infected crawled through windows, while we had to stand on benches. Zoey and Francis were back to back while Louis and I stood fought together in a corner. We were outnumbered, “ Everyone was leaning forward to Bill, waiting for him in anticipation for him to continued. "Then Francis shouted ‘Fire in the hole’ and next thing I knew infected parts flew everywhere. We managed to get out with only scrapes.”

   "Holy shit!“ David commented, completely engrossed in the story.

   "What happened with the guy in the safe room?” Claudette asked.

   "Turns out he was bitten, when the door opened he dropped down as a damn Smoker. I pulled out my pistol and ended him.“

   "Wow…” You awed along with everyone else.

   "Reminds me of a game I used to play.“ Feng Min smiled.

   "True badass.” David smirked, both Dwight and Jake nodded. “You never quit do you, Bill?”

   "I always look for a fight.“ He grunted. You smile and lean against Meg, these moments around the campfire gave you a spark of hope. Time in the trial, regardless if you died or not, was draining emotionally and physically.

    Everyone continued to share little memories, until a snap in the woods alerted the group. You didn’t worry it was one of the killers, since they never come to the fire, so that means it must be another poor soul sucked into this hell.  

   Your body went rugged at the sight before you, your hand gripped Meg and David’s wrists. Your abusive ex-boyfriend, Eric, now stood before you. Your past life wasn’t glamorous due to him, he lefts bruises and mental scars on you, but you were able to get away before you were pulled into this hell, and now it is like all those memories of him and you started crashing at once.

   All the other survivors took notice of your behavior, David and Meg pressed themselves against your sides, while Bill and Jake stood up, staring at Eric with expressions while Feng looked like she was about to fight if needed. You let go of your friend’s wrists, though they didn’t leave your side. You had told them all about the dark parts of your past involving him. Never had you expected to see him here.

   "Where the hell am I?” His oh so tough voice made shiver run down your spine. “(Y/N)!  You’ve been gone for months; your mother is worried sick.” Eric smirked and tried approaching you but Bill and Jake blocked his path.

   "Listen, you’ve been summoned here by the Entity. You must go through the trials and try to escape.“ Dwight informed him. "No matter what you do, you can never leave. ”

   "Trials? Entity?“

   "Look boy, you have one goal is to survive this hell with team work and cooperation, got it?” Bill spoke before turning his back, sitting down in his spot. “This place isn’t sunshine and cupcakes, you survive or die, only to go through the same shit again. Pull any shit here and the monsters in the trials won’t be your main problem.”

   Before anyone else could say anything else to Eric, darkness clouded around and you knew, it was time to start another trial.

–

   Your vision became clear and revealed to you were you were sent: Haddonfield. You let out a sigh of relief when you spotted the familiar houses and lights. Myres was a scary person to face against, but for some reason, you’ve never been killed or harmed by his hand. You’ve even come face to face with him once, across from a pallet you had knocked down. He stared at you, not moving before turning around, leaving you to escape.  It was strange, every killer had killed you at least once, but Michael never tried to. Perhaps he was toying with you, waiting for the perfect moment to strike

   You started working on generators, teaming up with either Claudette or Bill to pop a gen and scattering off. You were on your last generator when you heard rustling behind you, making you jump and stop working on it.  

   ”(Y/N)? Thank god I found someone.“ Eric’s voice called your name, making you sigh. He walked up next to you and started working on the gen with you. "All this is all so crazy… I almost ran into that guy with the mask.”

   "Yeah that’s The Shape, or Michael Myres, don’t let him stalk you or he gets stronger.“ You hoped he would stop talking to you and finish the generator.  You were glad he didn’t say much after that, allowing you to fully concentrate on the generator.  You smiled triumphantly as the gen 'popped’ and the lights connected turned on. You were about to walk away when a rough hand gripped your wrist.

   "This way! I heard the killer.” Eric whispered and dragged you along with him. His touch made you flinch as you stumble along, you just had to deal with it until the trial was over. Suddenly he came to a stop, you crashed into his back.  You glance around and notice you both where in a dark and secluded area of Haddonfield. You felt extremely uncomfortable. “Whew, I think we lost him.”

   "I don’t think he was coming-“

   "Shh he may hear us, baby.” You visibly gagged when he called you that petname. You felt his hand rub up from your wrist to your arm, causing you to start to back away from him.

   "Eric, I swear to god-“ His hand clamped over your mouth as he pushed you against a broken wall. His body trapped yours against the wall as his free hand messed with him of your shirt. You try and squirm from him but he was too strong for you, you only hoped that Bill or Claudette would come and help.

   "I missed you, (Y/N). After you broke up with me and left I didn’t have anyone else to mess with.” He growled, before his mouth attacked your neck, the stubble on his chin scratched your soft skin. You start to cry trying to beg for help through his hand as he continued nipping your skin.  

   You gritted your teeth and bit his hand, allowing you to finally cry out, though you weren’t able to call out, Eric was able to cover your mouth again. His hand that was close to going under your shirt gripped the collar and tore it down to your navel. You felt fear bubble inside you, hell in the realm just got ten times worse. You squeeze your eyes shut as you felt his rough hand touch your breast, knowing there was no hope.

   Your eyes snap open when you could hear heavy breathing coming from a slight distance. Your eyes widened when you saw Michael Myers watching. You could almost visibly see the dangerous aura around him. You notice Erics hand start to loosen over your mouth, moving it to tug at your pants.

   You lock eyes with Myers, at least you think you did, and hoped for the best.

    You mouthed ‘help me’ as a last-ditch effort

   In an instant, Eric was ripped from you;  Michael was holding him by his shirt as you slid down the wall, covering your chest. Your body was shaking as you watch Michael let go of Eric, only grip him by the neck and raise him off the ground. You saw the glint of the kitchen knife in Myers hand before he slowly stabbed Eric’s gut, twisting the knife as your ex tried hitting him, but it was too late. He tossed Eric’s body like it was nothing, making a ‘thump’ sound.

   You flinched when you notice Michael look down upon your disheveled appearance, bloody knife still dripping. You squeeze your eyes shut and hug your body, it looks like today may be the day Myers finally kills you. You waited for that killing blow, or some sort of grab… but neither of that happened. You opened your eyes and watched the tall killer squat down, before sitting on the ground with you. He raised a hand which made you wince a little, but the movement was slow, so you simply watched what he was going to do. His hand, unusually gentle, rested upon your head, giving you a soft pat.

   "Thank y-you… for helping me…“ You stutter. He nodded in response. "Uhm… I want to ask… why did you h-help me? And why haven’t you killed me?” He didn’t say anything, he just stared at you before grabbing your wrist, but unlike Eric, he wasn’t as rough. He turned your wrist, your palm facing upwards.  

   "Special.“ He traced with his finger, which sparked your cheeks to flush warm. "Who is he?” Michael then pointed to the corpse.

   "My ex-boyfriend from my past life.“ You started feeling a little more confident around him. "He… He used to hit me a lot and he mentally broke me at one point. Finally, I got away from him; putting a restraining order on him and moving away, just a month before I got pulled here.”

   "Oh.“ He traced before giving a nod. He tilted his head to the side and you followed his head movement. This was a very strange thing, but you felt secure in his presence. Though you felt some embarrassment, your shirt was torn, exposing my most of your chest. You felt your cheeks and the back of your neck heat up. He tilted his head again, you felt him looking over your body.

   Myers peeled off the top part of his jumpsuit before pulling off his black undershirt over head, gripping tight and handing it to you in a tight fist. You take the shirt carefully and put it on while Michael pulled back on his jumpsuit. You looked down at shirt, it was way too big for you. You giggled, covering mouth, as Michael looked at you. His shoulder’s began to shake like he was laughing as you lifted your arms, showing how much the shirt bagged.

   The distant howl of the exit doors echoed from the distance, snapping both your attention in the direction the noise came from. Michael stood up from the ground and offered you his hand. You gratefully take his offer and he easily pulled you up from the ground. Your legs were still a bit shakey, causing you to wobble and lean against Michael’s firm body. Without any warning, he picked you up and started walking towards the exist. You didn’t protest.

-

   You could see the open gate as Myres walked towards it. You could see Claudette leaning over Bill, helping him with a wound, before both their attention was on you.  

   “(Y/N)!” Bill screamed as Claudette gasped. Michael set you down carefully, allowing you to hold onto his forearms to keep stable before you could walk. You walked to the two while they cautiously eyed the both of you.  

   “What’s going on?” Claudette whispered. “And why are wearing his shirt?”

   “Eric… attacked me and he ripped my shirt.  Michael stepped in and helped me.” You replied, looking back to Michael, who was simply staring at the three of you.  

   “Are you okay? Eric didn’t…”

   “No, Michael stepped in before something could happen.” Claudette nodded and pulled you into a tight hug while Bill rested his hand on your shoulder. You smile but then glance back to Michael, who was still staring. You broke away from your two friends and approached the masked killer, tilting your head back ever so slightly while he tilted his downwards.  

   “I have to go now, Michael.” You spoke softly. He shook his head, his hands grip your shoulders. “I… honestly would love to stay with you, but what about the entity?”  

   “Safe,” He took your hand and traced. “With me.”  

   "I believe that, I do but the entity may get mad. It may take some time to get used to you, no offense, but I don’t want to be restricted from ever seeing you.” He stared at you before slowly nodding his head. You sigh with a smile, before slowly wrapping your arms around his waist, giving him a hug. He awkwardly reciprocated, though it was clear he was not used to this kind of affection at all; it was kind of comically but you kept in your chuckle.

   You break away from Michael, joining your two friends who were staring anywhere but on you two. Bill left first, giving you a nod while Claudette followed in suit. You look back to Myres, he was watching you intently. You gave him a small wave before running out into the field, as fast as you could to return to the camp fire.

-

   When you arrived to the campfire, everyone else was there. Some more bloodied than others. To your relief, Eric hasn’t been brought back and you only hoped that he never would. You sit down on the ground, leaning your head against Megs legs.

   "You got a spare hair tie, Meg?“ You asked. She nodded and handed you a green tie. You tied up the black shirt so it wouldn’t be long, nobody seemed to pay mind to your new shirt or the lack of Eric. You glance to Claudette and Bill, who gave you reassuring nods that your secret was safe with them.  

   You smiled as you listened to how Ace and David talked about escaping the Hillbilly with ease, obviously overexaggerating parts, while Dwight rubbed his slowly healing shoulder wound. Back at the campfire, though oddly enough you wouldn’t mind being sent to Haddonfield again.

#dead by daylight #dead by daylight x reader #dbd #dbd x reader #michael myres #the shape #the shape x reader #michael myres x reader