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spenceobsessed · 3 months

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part 1

this is a part 2 to another fic i did, but can be read as a stand alone!

post!prison reid x fem!reader

genre: enemies to lovers, smut with a plot

summary: after being put on a case with you, spencer realizes he might not hate you as much as he thought.

MDNI 18+

unfortunately, when working for the bau, having time off is very rare. you and spencer were harshly reminded of this. right after your successful arrest of the unsub at the nightclub, you were immediately put on a plane, incredibly sexually frustrated, on your way to another case.

you and spencer had (luckily or unluckily) ended up next to each other on a plane ride to the middle of nowhere in wisconsin. there had been a string of murders in the small town of hayward. four were dead and the unsubs rate of death was accelerating.

the flight was a little under six hours. just sitting next to spencer was excruciating.

the rest of the team had fallen asleep and although you attempted to sleep, you were simply just too horny. not being able to finish earlier, mixed with sheer anticipation had taken over you. you tossed and turned in your seat, a blanket pulled up to your chest. you open your eyes to look at spencer who had a book in his hands, his eyes on you.

you smile softly, sitting upright to get a better look at the handsome man.

“are you okay?" he asks softly, his kind voice still new for you. you nod, watching as he sets his book down over his crotch. hes still hard.

"i'm okay." you respond with a smile. "just, y'know..." you trail off trying to put your thoughts into words.

he laughs softly, completely understanding what you mean. "earlier.” he finishes your sentence with a smirk on his face.

“well i would ask how you feel about ‘earlier’, dr. reid,” you begin, your had moving from the armrest to rub against his chest. “but i can already tell.” you move your had quickly down his chest and hover your hand over his obviously hard cock in his pants. he gasps softly as you use one finger to trace the shape of him.

“fuck.” he groans, the use of a curse word throwing you off (and turning you on). “please.” he begs as you push softly on his cock, feeling a wet spot from precum already forming.

“use your words.” you demand, kindly, your dominance going straight to his dick. spencer liked being dominant, which he most definitely was going to be when the plane fucking lands, but right now he wanted to be taken care of. he needed to be taken care of.

“touch me.” he says simply as you begin to undo his belt quietly.

“ok, pretty boy, but i’m going to need you to keep quiet, can you do that?” you reply, reaching your hand into his underwear, pulling his hard cock out. he was huge, bigger than you would’ve guessed, especially for a relatively skinny guy. his tip was red and angry, begging for your attention.

“yes.” he says breathlessly, watching you hold his cock. you smile, throwing your blanket over his lap and over your arm, deciding that sucking him off would make too much noise.

you use your pointer finger to spread his precum over the tip of his cock, eliciting a muffled groan from the man.

you begin to move your hand down his cock, causing spencer to cover his mouth with his hand. his pupils were blown and his chest rising and falling fast. it was an amazing sight.

you felt yourself getting wet as your hand began to move faster on his cock.

“this feels so good.” he says, his praise only fueling your desire. the man bites back a moan just watching you concentrate on letting him cum.

“fuck, y/n,” he gasps out his hips bucking into your hand. “i’m close.” you pick up your pace a bit, making the handsome man roll his eyes back in his head and cum all over your hand. you stand up and take a look around the jet to make sure everyone was still asleep. luckily, penelope garcia had given the whole team noise cancelling headphones for christmas, so no one heard a thing.

you smile leaning in to give him soft kiss on the lips before walking to the bathroom to wash off your hands. when you return, spencer's eyes are closed and you can't help but kiss his cheek. he opens his eyes slowly, reaching up to grab your waist and pull you onto him. he throws the blanket over your bodies and kisses your forehead softly.

you squirm slightly, still feeling horny. he looks up at you, eyes barely open. "your turn?" he asks, referring to your pleasure. you laugh softly shaking your head. he was half asleep and still offering to make you happy. "no, its okay pretty boy, we'll save that for later." he nods, a smile on his face.

"are you sure?" he asks, turning his head so he could look you in the eyes, perhaps to see if you were lying.

"yes, i promise." he kisses you on the forehead before falling asleep, his arms around you.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

although you managed to get some sleep in spencer's arms, you knew that soon enough someone would wake up and you both would get caught. so, an hour after falling asleep on the handsome man, you painfully peeled yourself off of his lap and back into your own cold seat.

luckily, no one had (seemingly) seen anything, which was good.

as of now, you were leaving the plane to go to the hayward precinct.

"we'll check in with the chief of police, then dave and i will stay over night while you guys go to the inn and get some sleep." emily announced as they began piling into two large black suburbans.

they collectively thanked prentiss and rossi before heading to the inn.

"wait so when she says inn..." you ask, climbing the the back seat. jj nods.

"yeah, this is a small town so there isn't really any place for us to stay near by."

tara climbs in the passengers seat and luke slides in next to you.

the rest of the ride there was relatively normal, minus a few jokes about you & spencer's make out session at the night club, that you chose to ignore.

you arrived to the inn quickly, grabbing your designated room key and head to your room.

“fuck!” you yell, surprised to see someone already in your room.

“shhh.” spencer says, coming up to close the door behind you, taking your bags from your hands and setting them down by his feet.

“i missed you.” he says, causing you to roll your eyes.

“it’s been like thirty minutes, pretty boy.” he smiles, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into him. you laugh as he picks you up easily and carries you over to the queen sized bed.

“i’ve just been thinking about earlier.” he says, laying down next to you.

“oh yeah?” you say, turning you head to face him.

“uh huh,” he says, pulling your body closer to him allowing you to lay your head on his chest. “i want to make you cum now.” he says, his voice low. you look up at him allowing him to tip his head down to kiss your lips.

“jj.. is.. next.. door.” you huff out in between kisses. spencer shrugs, flipping your position so he’s on top of you. he begins kissing and biting down your jaw and neck, using his hands to expertly remove your shirt. he lets out a small groan when he rips the shirt off you, revealing your tiny, lacy bra.

“off please.” is all you manage to say, but somehow he understands. he unclasps your bra in a single motion, throwing it to the floor, exposing your hardened nipples.

“y/n..” he says lowly, his eyes filled with lust. “so pretty.” he continues to trail kisses down your neck and chest, until his mouth lands on your tit, sucking softly as his other hand teases your other nipple.

you groan softly, that familiar wet feeling returning in your underwear for the third time in 24 hours.

although you’ve just started, your groans and boobs had already gone straight to spencer’s cock and as he kissed your body you could already feel his hardness pressed on your leg.

you buck your hips up against spencer, begging for some friction.

“i need you inside of me, spencer.” the use of his name he was so unfamiliar with made his pants grow tighter.

“so needy.” he jokes with a smile, moving to remove your pants, his mouth watering at the sight of your covered pussy, a perfect wet spot in the center.

“so, so pretty.” he sighs, hooking his fingers in your underwear and pulling it off of your legs.

without warning he inserts two of his fingers in you, causing you to gasp and moan at the new sensation. you slowly attempt to remove his shirt as pleasure blinds your senses.

soon enough, spencer is moving down to attach his mouth on your cunt. “spence, please, im gonna cum. i need you inside me.” you moan, your back arching. this garners a moan from the handsome man, his noises echoing in your pussy.

you expect him to pull away, but he doesn’t. you feel your walls begin to tighten as he returns his fingers into you, allowing you to finally cum.

you moan and groan, his name on your lips.

even though your only semi cognizantas you recover from your high, you can’t help but notice the way spencer has begun to crash his hips against the bed.

“inside me.” you demand, your breathing heavy. spencer smiles as he removes his pants, leaving just his boxers, and crawls over top of you. he captures your lips in a heated and sloppy kiss, the remnants of your orgasm on his lips.

you reach down, breaking the kiss to remove his underwear, his hard and leaking cock sticking straight up. you smile as he pecks your lips, moving himself so his cock is aligned with your entrance.

he glides his cock over your slit a few times, causing you to beg him to be inside you. you’ve never felt this desperate before. he slowly pushes his large dick into you, causing you to groan, slightly in pain due to his size.

“you okay, baby?” he whispers, noticing your discomfort. you nod as your walls adjust, his size now feeling incredible.

he begins to pump his cock in and out, immediately hitting you in your sweet spot.

“fuck.” you moan, throwing your head back. he uses his hand to move your face back, towards him.

“i want to see your pretty face when you cum, y/n.” he says, in almost a demanding manner, but still with kind undertones.

his words don’t fail to turn you on, somehow even more.

“oh, you like that?” he says through a moan, as his pace quickens, the leud sounds of his cock driving deep inside you, mixed with moans, fill the small room.

“i’m close,” spencer admits, through breathy moans. you open your mouth to respond, but all that comes out is a deep moan.

you feel his dick twitch inside you as rubs your clit with his fingers.

“cum inside me, please.” you beg, feeling your core tighten around him, your release nearing.

“are you sure?” he asks, his movements becoming more sloppy, his skin coated in a thin layer of sweat.

“yes!” you confirm as you reach your climax for the second time, spencer following quickly.

his hot cum fills you up as he continues his movements, riding you both through your highs.

when you’ve both had a second to catch your breaths, he pulls out of you, leaving you full of his cum, but missing his cock. you smile as he gives you a slow kiss, laying down next to you.

“you’re so perfect.” he whispers into your hair as you lay your head on his chest. you smile, happy, but a little confused how just over a day ago you couldn’t stand this beautiful man.

a/n: thank you all for 100 followers and so much love on my last post. as someone new to tumblr it seriously means a lot. just so you know, my requests are open!!!! thanks again🫶🫶🫶

#spencer reid imagine #spenceobsessed #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds #matthew gray gubler #smut #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds fanfic #fanfic #criminal minds smut #imagine

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cherienymphe · 5 months

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Teenage Dirtbag VIII (JJ Maybank x Reader x Rafe Cameron)

Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, abusive relationship, domestic violence, violence (+ gun violence), gun kink, dacryphilia, attempted murder, mentions of blood, public sex, jealousy, manipulation, infidelity, underage drinking, drug use, canon ages, kook!reader

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | ➥ divider by @firefly-graphics

➥ series masterlist

summary: You’re charmingly spoiled. You’re too kind for your own good. You’re the princess of Figure 8 …and you’re way out of JJ Maybank’s league, but when he realizes that Rafe Cameron’s pride and joy is actually a bruised and battered damsel, he’s determined to save you.

Your rescue just comes with a price.

“Rafe would never…”

Sarah’s loud huff reached your ears as you shrugged at her, making yourself some breakfast. The man in question was sleeping in, breathing evenly when you left his room. You’d been sleeping over at his house more as of late, and while Rafe was under the impression it was some attempt to show how bad you felt for ‘defending’ JJ at that party weeks ago…

Only you knew the truth.

JJ had kissed you.

…and you’d kissed him back.

His show of ‘taking it’ did not in fact make you feel better because you both knew it was a lie—a poor attempt to absolve you of responsibility. To lessen your role in it when in truth…you hadn’t even tried to fight back. Not really. You’d allowed it to happen, and you couldn’t decide if you regretted it or not. On one hand, the kiss was something you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about for weeks, and on the other…

You’d cheated on your boyfriend.

The thought of what you did made you nauseous, and not because you didn’t want to hurt Rafe…but because you didn’t want him to hurt you. You thought about that day JJ had smiled at you in The Wreck, back when you barely even knew him, and you thought about how you’d smiled back—something so harmless. You would never forget the feel of that gun in your mouth. You would never forget the fear that weighed down on you.

Heavy enough to make you call the police.

You’d allowed something to happen that shouldn’t have, but that didn’t mean it needed to happen again. Hiding one kiss from Rafe was doable. Hiding anything more… You didn’t even want to let your mind wander into dangerous territory. There wasn’t going to be anything else to hide, and yet…even as you thought that…you couldn’t help but to entertain the thought.

You really really liked being around JJ, and to make matters worse, you liked kissing him even more. It had sparked something in you that you weren’t sure you liked. You recalled how on edge you’d been that night. So much so that when Rafe kissed you, you’d been eager to kiss him back. What kind of girlfriend were you to imagine someone else while having sex with your boyfriend?

It wasn’t right, and you couldn’t afford to make another mistake, and that’s why you weren’t keen on the conversation you were having with Sarah at the moment.

“Come on,” Sarah pleaded. “We’re literally going to be at Kie’s house instead of John B.’s because of you.”

You paused, eyeing her.

“I know that Rafe will never be convinced to let you go all the way to The Cut, so Kie offered up her place,” Sarah explained with a shrug. “Her parents are out of town, and they reluctantly approved having some friends over.”

You thought on that with a small frown.

“…and it’ll just be us girls.”

That eased your worry, and you sighed.

“Say the word, and I’ll talk to Rafe myself. He already knows I think he’s way too controlling with you,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I’ll argue with him about this until I’m blue in the face.”

You eyed her again, chewing on your lip at the thought. You’d had a lot of fun the last time you hung out with them, and the knowledge that JJ wouldn’t be around did make you feel better. After that night in front of your pool house, you weren’t sure you trusted yourself around him. He made you feel things that reminded you too much of what it was like to be…happy.

It was an addicting feeling.

“…okay,” you reluctantly said to her, voice soft.

Sarah’s half smile was wicked, and you chuckled at her, watching her run upstairs with a shake of your head.

You didn’t quite understand why Sarah had taken it upon herself to pull you into her social life, but you didn’t think you were mad about it anymore. Rafe was your present and future, and as much as the thought depressed you, you imagined your future would be a lot bleaker if you weren’t at least friends with his sister. Wheezie was great too, but she was so much younger than you.

When Rafe finally came downstairs almost an hour later, you didn’t need to be a genius to know that Sarah had woken him up in order to plead her case. Your boyfriend didn’t look the most enthusiastic when your eyes met his, and you fixed him with a pleading look of your own.

“It’s just going to be the girls,” you quietly reassured him as he neared you. “…and we’re going to be at Kiara’s.”

“That’s reassuring,” he snorted, and the sarcasm was strong in his tone.

You resisted the urge to sigh.

“What do you think is going to happen with Sarah, Kiara, and Cleo?” you argued. “Worst case scenario we watch movies, get drunk, and you have to pick me up.”

You could see the thought process behind Rafe’s eyes, and when he eventually gripped your chin between his fingers, relief filled you. Rafe’s kiss was soft, lips gently touching yours, and like with many kisses in the weeks passed, you couldn’t help but to think about whose it wasn’t.

“I guess I can humor Sarah, so I won’t have to hear her bullshit,” he murmured, and you gave him a small smile. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear she was trying to steal you from me.”

Rafe’s tone was humorous, but you swore there was a glimmer of seriousness in his gaze. Despite that, you gave a nervous chuckle.

“No one can steal me from you, Rafe.”

He eyed you, tracing his gaze over your face, and you swallowed as Rafe tilted his head.

“I know that,” he said matter-of-factly. “…and you know that too.”

When he kissed you again, you kissed him back.

“What? Cleo, you have to come,” you told her. “I’ll invite you myself.”

You could hear Sarah and Kiara making some more drinks in the kitchen behind you. The girl before you made a face, and you laughed at the disgust there.

“Spending all night with a bunch of stuffy Kooks? No, thank you,” she said with a shake of her head.

You took another sip of your drink with a hum.

“It’s actually more fun than you think,” you reassured her. “…and plus you get to dress up like a princess.”

“You are an actual princess, so of course you’d say that.”

“Are you guys talking about Midsummers?” Sarah wondered, rejoining you two. “Y/N, give it up. You’ll never get Cleo to go in a million years.”

She handed you a new fruity drink.

“Kie is technically a Kook, and even she doesn’t like going.”

The girl in question sat down across from you, and you looked at her in wonder.

“Really? Why not?”

The brunette wasn’t the most talkative with you, but that didn’t stop you from trying. You recalled Sarah’s comment about Kiara’s distrust—something you didn’t blame her for—but you were relieved to see that she was loosening up around you. Even if it was only because of the alcohol.

“…because it’s classist and consumerist, and a gross display of the disparity in wealth on this island. I mean, it’s full of people discussing the pros and cons of a second home when other people on this island need a second job to get by,” she told you. “The whole thing disgusts me.”

Kiara said all of this evenly, like it was something that easily flew off of her tongue, and you found yourself gazing into your drink.

“I guess I never thought about it like that…”

…and you hadn’t. It was such a regular part of your life that you had never seen it in an even remotely negative way. You always loved going to Midsummers, dressing up and taking part in something you’d never thought to question. Kiara was right, you supposed. Outer Banks was the kind of place where you either had two jobs or two houses, and you found yourself thinking about a familiar blond.

JJ’s less fortunate circumstances had never been lost on you. After all, you recognized your privilege to have a pool house and offered it to him. However, you had never stopped to really think about the somewhat ridiculousness of that though. The fact that you even had an extra house—no matter how small—to offer him.

You took a sip of your drink.

“I promise I’m not trying to radicalize you or anything,” the other girl sighed. “I just hate all the grand tone deaf displays on this side of the island.”

You were just about to tell her that it was more than okay when Cleo perked up.

“Is someone outside?”

You frowned at her, but Sarah and Kiara turned towards the window, and Sarah’s groan made your heart sink for some reason.

“I told them it was just going to be us girls,” she complained, pushing herself to her feet.

She swayed a bit as she did, and you were reminded of how many drinks you’d had. You didn’t need to be a genius to know who she was talking about, and—out of nervousness or confusion on what to do with your hands—you downed the rest of your drink. You stood on unsteady feet, silently making your way to the kitchen just as you heard John B.’s voice.

“Plenty of times you’ve crashed guys night,” you heard him laugh. “Sucks, doesn’t it? Hey, whose car is that outside?”

You focused on making another drink as Sarah told him it was yours, and surprisingly, your heart wasn’t threatening to leap out of your chest. You blamed the alcohol for your calm demeanor because you knew that if you were sober, you would be a lot more panicked at the arrival of John B., Pope…and JJ.

You hadn’t seen the blond since that night, but you had seen the occasional light on in the pool house, so you knew that he was periodically sleeping there. You didn’t exactly know how you were going to act around him, now. After all, he’d kissed you and touched you in ways that a friend definitely shouldn’t. Doubly so since you had a boyfriend.

You paused to think about that, wondering if you could call JJ a friend. He couldn’t be your friend and trying to refer to him as one seemed so disingenuous for so many reasons. For starters, JJ made it very clear that he had no intention of being your friend, and all he’d done since that day was prove that to you. JJ couldn’t be your…anything.

When you reentered the living room with a fresh drink, he was standing by the couch where Kie sat. The brunette was talking to Cleo and Pope about something while the blonde’s eyes focused on you the moment you stepped into the room. You tried to ignore the way he straightened, and the way he eyed you, glancing away and taking a sip of your drink.

You were thinking to yourself that you should leave…but you weren’t exactly in any condition to drive and calling Rafe would only lead to trouble. You really didn’t want to fathom how he’d react to pulling into the yard and seeing John B.’s van. As if reading your mind, Sarah left her boyfriend and hurried over to you.

“I know they’re not supposed to be here,” she started.

“Yeah,” you slurred. “It’s literally the only reason Rafe let me come.”

Sarah pressed her lips together, and the sheepish look on her face let you know that you weren’t going to like what she said next.

“John B. wants us all to go back to The Chateau…”

“Sarah.”

You were drunk, but not too drunk to ignore what an incredibly bad idea that was for you. Your eyes were wide as you looked at her, and she reached for you.

“He’s going to bring us back later tonight,” she explained. “They’ll be gone, and you can call Rafe to come get you.”

“Why do I have to go? Why are we going, anyway?”

Sarah rolled her eyes.

“…because JJ rolled a few blunts, and Kie does not want her parents’ house smelling like weed. Which is valid, I guess…”

You sighed as she trailed off. Even if you weren’t several drinks into the night, you’d probably still be tempted to go. However, if you were sober, you knew that you’d turn the suggestion down without hesitation and stand firm in that. At the moment, though, you were incredibly interested. You didn’t want to ruin everyone else’s fun, and in truth, you enjoyed sitting around fire with Sarah’s friends. The plan sounded solid in theory, but you were unsure…

“I don’t know, Sarah…” you glanced away, ignoring JJ’s gaze. “If Rafe found out I went to the other side of the island with you…”

Just as Sarah was about to speak, the last person you wanted spoke instead.

“She can stay for a little bit, Sarah, and then I’ll drive her back.”

Your eyes met a familiar blue pair, and Sarah turned around with a smile. JJ’s hands were shoved into his pockets, and despite the fact that he’d said it to Sarah, his gaze was focused on you. He swiped his tongue between his lips as he waited for what you had to say, Sarah eventually joining as she turned to look at you again.

“My bike’s at John B.’s, so I can take you back whenever you want,” he said with a shrug.

It was odd. You recognized that JJ was the last person you should be around, and yet, all you wanted to do was take him up on his offer. Were you really about to risk fucking up so badly just to steal twenty minutes alone with JJ? You eyed him, and just then your phone vibrated, heart skipping a beat when you saw a text from Rafe. You stared at the words on the screen for a minute, reading them over and over again.

Rafe wanted to know what ‘you girls’ were up to…and with shaky fingers, you told him you were about to watch a movie, buying yourself two hours. Carefully placing your phone on the side table, you told the two blondes in front of you ‘okay’. Sarah beamed while you simply avoided JJ’s heated gaze.

You were nursing a beer while Sarah drunkenly told the story of how she lost her virginity to John B.—in a church of all places. Your gaze was focused on the dirt and grass beneath your shoes, not really a participant in the conversation. Cleo was to your left…while JJ was to your right, and the presence of the blond was getting harder and harder to ignore.

The ride over had been awkward for you and sitting around a fire with Sarah’s friends felt even less so. Already drunker than you would like to be, you’d declined Pope’s offer when he’d tried to pass you the blunt in the van on the way over. The last thing you needed was to become even more paranoid than you already were.

You’d left both your phone and your car at Kie’s, but you couldn’t stop worrying that something was going to go wrong. You’d told Rafe that you were about to watch a movie, hoping he’d get the hint not to reach out to you for at least two hours, but it would be just like him to call or swing by unannounced. You knew this was a bad idea, and now even more so because you couldn’t even relax enough to enjoy yourself.

“What about you?”

You didn’t get the hint that Kie was talking to you—not even when JJ tensed—until Sarah made a very loud noise of protest.

“No, no, absolutely not!” the blonde loudly said, waving her arms. “What did I say about asking Y/N sex questions?”

John B. snorted.

“First time stories barely count, to be honest. They’re almost always bad…and short,” he chuckled.

“I don’t care,” she cried, pressing her fingers to her eyes. “She’s dating my brother.”

“…yeah, but we’re talking about her first time. That…”

John B. trailed off at the look Sarah gave him, and you sheepishly shrugged when everyone slowly looked at you.

“Unfortunately, Sarah is correct in her assumption,” you admitted. “My first time does involve Rafe.”

There was a visceral and audible reaction at that, and Sarah looked vindicated.

“Yeah, move on to someone else,” she pleaded with a laugh.

The brief mention of Rafe had your heart sinking again, and as Cleo’s voice filled your ears, you were pulled from your thoughts by the feel of JJ’s fingers grazing yours. You flinched from shock, glancing up to meet his gaze as he reached for your beer. No one else was paying attention, too busy laughing at whatever Cleo said.

You didn’t look away from JJ as he took your drink, watching as he brought the bottle to his own lips. The sight reminded you of what it’d felt like to touch those lips, and you could feel yours parting, sharply inhaling as you tried to force yourself to look away. His blue eyes looked between yours, and JJ spoke when he lowered his hand.

“Whenever you’re ready to go…just let me know,” he whispered to you.

“I’m not,” you replied just as quietly, taking your beer back.

When Pope suggested firing up the hot tub—otherwise dubbed as The Cat’s Ass—you declined. JJ did too, and none of them gave it a second thought as Cleo asked Sarah if she had an extra bathing suit top lying around John B.’s place. You took the opportunity to stand, pausing as the world spun a bit, before making your way to the dock.

Even if his footsteps were quiet, you knew that JJ was following you, and trying to keep yourself from doing something you’d regret again, you continued the conversation from earlier.

“What was your first time like?” you wondered with a smile, passing him your beer.

JJ seemed to see right through you, respecting your decision to avoid the elephant in the room, and he chuckled. You sat down at the end of the dock, looking up at him as he stared out into the water. The blond made a face, and you chuckled.

“Uh, it pretty much goes how you would expect,” he lightly said. “Except for Sarah obviously…”

JJ sat down next to you.

“Some girl I was really into…we had a few beers at her place while her parents were gone and…it lasted all of three minutes,” he proudly said. “I was fifteen.”

You rested your chin on your knees.

“Was she pretty?”

JJ threw you a crooked smile.

“She was,” he told you. “Are you jealous?”

You rolled your eyes, looking out into the water.

“You’re not my boyfriend, JJ. Why would I be…”

He didn’t respond right away at that, and again, you wracked your brain as to how you would avoid talking about what happened the last time you saw him. You were torn between wanting to talk about it, wanting to kiss him again, and just plain running away. A conversation with JJ didn’t seem so harmless, now. Not after he’d kissed you and flat out told you that he didn’t respect your relationship nor your boyfriend.

“What about your first time?”

Somehow, you hadn’t expected that, and you tensed.

For a brief moment, you were back in the Cameron house, trying to back away from Rafe as he yelled at you about something so insignificant. Your chest clenched painfully as you recalled that day, and you blinked, clearing your throat.

“You don’t want to hear about that.”

“I know it was with Rafe, but…I can forget that for the sake of this conversation, I promise,” JJ teasingly said, a hand on his chest when you looked at him. “Scout’s honor that I won’t gag.”

You gave a light laugh, straightening and shaking your head.

“Trust me, JJ, it’s not really something you want to hear.”

There was a brief pause.

“What? Was…was it that bad? Are you telling me Rafe Cameron is bad in bed? Who would’ve thought,” he mockingly commented.

You looked at him, opening and closing your mouth before letting out a sigh.

“It wasn’t like that,” you slowly told him with a sad smile. “I just mean… It’s kind of a mood killer. Not exactly a nice story.”

You could recognize that all of the drinks in your system had you being less reserved with your words than usual, and you watched JJ blink. A slow frown formed over his features, and you watched him run his gaze over you.

“What does that mean?” JJ slowly asked. “Are you saying he hurt you or something…?”

“No,” you were quick to argue. “No, it’s not…”

You huffed, looking out at the water.

“That’s not what I mean,” you sighed. “I just mean it’s not a fun little campfire story.”

“…and I’m asking you what the hell does that mean?” he chuckled, but it didn’t sound humorous. “Like…you realize you’re scaring me a little, right?”

When you looked at JJ again, you could see how true that was, and your chest lowered as you exhaled through your nose. You turned away from him again, taking in the sight of the half moon’s reflection in the water. You could feel JJ’s gaze on you as you thought it over, realizing that he wasn’t going to drop it, and if you were just an okay liar when sober, you could only imagine how bad you were when you were drunk.

Taking back the beer, you quickly drank the rest of it, hating the way your words slurred a bit when you spoke.

“It was…maybe about a month after my nineteenth birthday,” you mumbled, staring at the water despite not really seeing it. “…and Rafe was…mad.”

You shook your head, remembering the venom in his voice and the way his nostrils flared and that plain old mean look in his eyes.

“It was so stupid…and I was so confused,” you said with a frown. “…and I just wanted to leave and talk about it in the morning.”

You scoffed, reminded of Rafe cornering you against the wall.

“…but Rafe wouldn’t let me. Every time I tried, he… He wanted a fight,” you shrugged. “…and then he grabbed me…”

You could see him shaking you as you stared out into the water. You could see it like it happened yesterday, and you could hear him screaming at you and sneering at you before shoving you so hard you fell against the counter. There hadn’t been any point in trying to get up…and then he was there—on you and tearing at your dress.

“…and,” you quietly dragged out. “He just didn’t care what I wanted.”

You forgot all about JJ as you watched yourself scream and push against your boyfriend. To this day, you didn’t know if the alcohol in your system that night helped or hindered you. You swore that it made the memory that much more vivid, but at the same time, maybe it dulled it much more than you knew. As you remembered Rafe’s panic when his family pulled up and the way he all but dragged you upstairs, you forgot that you were sitting on John B.’s dock all the way on the other side of the island.

For a moment you were back in that house on that day, crying on the floor of Rafe’s bedroom.

You forgot that you weren’t actually there…until JJ spoke.

“Are you joking?”

His question came out harsh, startling you, and when you looked at JJ again, there was a deep frown on his face. His brows were tightly drawn together, and his lips were parted, a mixture of confusion and disbelief and horror covering his features.

“You are joking, right?”

You licked your lips, trying to gather your thoughts.

“JJ…things were…really bad then-.”

“What does that mean? ‘Bad then’…what…?” JJ scoffed, pressing his head into his hands. “What does that mean? What does that even mean because what you just described…”

JJ gestured to you, wide eyes blinking.

“He raped you,” he stated in shock. “You just told me…that your boyfriend…raped you, and all you can say is that things were bad then?”

JJ’s voice was getting louder, and you looked towards the yard, relieved to hear the rest of them still laughing in the hot tub.

“I’m saying that that doesn’t really happen anymore and…”

You trailed off when JJ stood, following his lead, and you absolutely hated the way he was looking at you.

“This has happened more than once.”

He said it more like a statement than a question, but his tone indicated that he wanted an answer…or more specifically confirmation.

“I’m just saying that this isn’t as big of a deal as you’re trying to make it,” you breathed. “You know Rafe. You’ve met him, you’ve fought him, you know what he can be like!”

JJ just stared at you, not moving, and you nervously peeked towards the yard again. JJ noticed, and he blinked at you, a look on his face that you couldn’t place. Yes, what Rafe did was wrong, but you couldn’t exactly flat out say why you stayed with a man who raped you. You didn’t have much choice but to downplay it, attempting to get JJ to see it your way, but it turned out that your efforts were in vain.

“Does he hurt you?”

The question came out so quietly that you almost didn’t hear him, and once it registered, you froze. You could hear your heart thumping in your ears, and the rest of Sarah’s friends sounded so far away. Your vision swam for the briefest of moments, and you touched your temple. Your drunk brain was scrambling, and you answered too late.

“What?” you whispered.

JJ blinked a few times, lips parting, and you watched him reach up to run his hands through his hair.

“I feel like an idiot,” he whispered. “I feel so stupid.”

Your breath was shaky, and you shook your head.

“JJ, no, it’s not… It’s not like that,” you slowly tried to explain.

That seemed to make him angry, and the look JJ gave you made your blood run cold.

“No?” he wondered, nostrils flaring. “Alright, okay.”

He reached for his phone, turning from you.

“I don’t really feel sober enough to take you home, so hey. Why don’t I get Rafe’s number from Sarah, and since it’s not like that, he’ll only be a little mad-.”

He cut himself off at the feel of you yanking on his sleeve, forcing him to a stop. Your fingers were digging into his skin through the fabric when he turned to face you, and your lips were trembling, but you both knew it wasn’t from the cold. Your gaze was pleading when his eyes met yours again, and JJ’s jaw ticked at your silent—but obvious—answer to his question.

The blonde’s gaze softened as he stared at you, and you could see the reality of the answer to his question finally hitting him. He slowly fully faced you, pressing his lips together as he looked at you, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d swear he was going over every interaction in his mind.

“Please don’t tell Sarah,” you whispered, and JJ looked at you in disbelief.

“That…that’s what you’re worried about?” he gasped. “You don’t want me to tell Sarah? Fuck Sarah, I should be telling the police.”

“You don’t get it,” you choked out with a shake of your head, fighting back tears.

“Don’t get what? What am I not getting? Why are you still with…? How long has this been going on?”

You turned away from JJ, pressing the tips of your fingers to your forehead. JJ followed you down the dock, and you only realized you were crying when your face felt so much colder.

“Why-?”

“He will kill me!”

When you looked at JJ again, you were full on sobbing, now. You pressed your hands to your neck, staring at him through your tears as JJ just stood frozen. You glanced away, pressing one hand to your mouth while the other wrapped around your waist. You hadn’t meant to blurt that out, but once you did, it was like you couldn’t stop.

“You don’t think I’ve tried to leave? Huh?” you cried. “You don’t think that I’ve tried to break up with him? Tried to…fight back?”

“Hey,” JJ whispered, approaching you.

“He’ll kill me,” you sobbed. “…and this isn’t-this isn’t something I think, this is something I know. He’s tried to before.”

JJ paused at that, but it was brief, and he quickly pulled you into his arms. He tightened them around you as he held you, trying to shush you, but it was a futile attempt. You didn’t know if it was all the drinks you’d had—or simply the feeling of finally telling someone—but you couldn’t stop crying no matter how much you tried. In the back of your mind, you felt that you’d regret this in the morning.

However, a part of you—a part that resided in your chest—felt so relieved.

You pressed your face into JJ’s shoulder as he tried to quiet you, running his hands over your back. You could feel a headache coming on, probably from both the tears and the drinks, and the turn this night had taken only made you want to lie down. You didn’t even know how you were going to pull yourself together in time to go back home to Rafe.

You could feel JJ’s hand on the back of your neck, and when he turned his head—and turned yours—your lips met.

It took you by surprise, making your breath hitch, and if JJ minded the saltiness of the kiss, he didn’t speak on it. This kiss wasn’t like the first one, and even though you couldn’t tell how exactly, it just felt different. You could still hear Sarah and her friends talking and whatnot in the hot tub, none the wiser to what was taking place on the dark dock. JJ’s thumbs brushed your tears away as he moved his lips against yours, and you remembered that this was something you weren’t going to do again.

You tried to pull away, but JJ wouldn’t let you, humming into the kiss.

You didn’t want to stop, but you knew that you needed to. The night had not gone how you thought it would, and it was time to go home. Your mind was going a mile a minute with the knowledge that you’d told JJ the truth and the fact that he was kissing you again. The alcohol in your system had contributed to too many bad decisions tonight, and you literally feared what tomorrow would bring as you kept kissing JJ on the dock.

#jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #dark!jj maybank #dark!jj maybank x reader #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #dark!rafe cameron #dark!rafe cameron x reader #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank imagine #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fanfiction #outer banks #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks imagine #obx #obx fanfiction #obx imagine

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nyahchan · 9 months

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Ok, here we go. Cryptid x Reader, where the Reader is on a hike with friends and said friends prank the reader in a really mean way causing them to run off and start crying. The Cryptid stumbles upon reader crying and for some reason misinterprets this as reader seeking a mate and starts doing a mating dance thing that the reader starts out being confused by and a little scared but then they start giggling and think it's really pretty, but then that is misinterpreted as accepting the Cryptid and the Cryptid is soooo happy that this little human wants their eggs! And obviously the crying is just from nerves, so they'll just hum and sing until the get all sleepy and fuck their eggs into them. And they'll be so happy when the wake up safe in the Cryptid's nest and so full and pregnant!

Sorry if that was long and weird lol my brain just kept going.

A Cryptid's mate

Yandere cryptid x gn reader

TW:non-con, implied killing, toxic friends, attempted murder, monster fucking, somnophilia, extremely rough non-con, blood, breeding

Author's note:- you didn't specify the gender so I tried to write it in a way that any gender can read it with whatever pronouns as I made sure not to add any

For you guys see this

Humans are stupid and weird, they tell others to be careful of the red signs yet they themselves seem to ignore them.

You are unfortunately one of those foolish humans, you saw the signs yet you chose to ignore them, you knew better than anyone else that these people who stand in front of you laughing right now, calling themselves your "friends" are just wolves in sheeps's clothings. Your eyes start to blur as you remember being so excited when your "friends" asked you to go on a hiking trip with them, there was a slight voice in the back of your head, asking numerous questions about why they would suddenly ask you to hang out with them in an activity considering they never included you in anything, but you were naive and hopeful and you decided to agree.

During the hike, your "friends" kept on whispering to each other and giggling, you couldn't understand why until they reach the middle of the forest where suddenly one of your "friends" shoved you and another took your hiking bag and began rummaging through it, throwing everything on the forest floor.You couldn't understand why, you tried to tell them to stop, but they kept on snickering "There's a dangerous bug that fell in your bag from one of the trees!" said one of them as they threw all your belongings on the floor and then "accidentally" stepped on them. You tried to brush it off as a kind gesture that went wrong, you tried to smile through it but deep down you knew, they did it on purpose.

Now most of the items you had brought for the hike was ruined, your bag had mud on it as well as the items that didn't get ruined. You all continued walking through the forest, going deeper and deeper inside when you guys are met with a river with high current going downstream, there's a path over it to walk through. Your "friends" tell you to walk on the path first ,feeling pressured,you do exactly that but as soon as you do, one of them pushed you into the river,you see in the corner of your eyes that they are grinning as you fall into the river. Your immediate survival insticts start working and you grab onto a large stone in the river and push yourself out, your bag flowing down the river. You're gagging and choking on air as you frantically ask them why they did it and the only thing you get in response is "it's a prank relaxxx" but you can't anymore, tears run down your face, you eyes get blurry and without thinking straight , you run off to whatever direction your feet take you to, you don't look back, you don't look front either, you're vision too blurry from the tears as you cry and run, your wet clothes making lots of splashing noise as it hugs your body, your undergarments fully visible through your clothes now.

Before you know it, you're in the middle of yet another forest except here, there are no trail tracks for hikers, but you don't care, you're too busy crying at the thought that your own "friends" tried to kill you, you cry by yourself, or at least that's what you think as right behind you stands a strange creature, not human, but not full monster, a cryptid or whatever humans nowadays decide to call his specifies, but it looks human and for some reason, it's extremely handsome. The cryptid man watches you cry from behind, you're so drowned in sorrow that you don't even realize there's a monster man behind you. He watches you cry and ponders on what might be the reason for such an adorable little human to be crying all by themselves in his territory, the territory where cryptids live, the territory he rules, the territory far away from human knowledge?And then it suddenly clicks in his mind, you're crying because you can't find a mate. Good news for you, he's also looking for one!

The cryptid immediately jumps in front of you, making his presence known to you. You're immediately startled and frightened at the creature in front of you, you rub your eyes to wipe the tears away and take in the appearance of said creature, it's around 8 feet tall, is muscular, looks so weird yet also like a human, his face is chizzled and he looks so handso- you shake your head and then look at the creature with a look of terror, but that immediately turns to confusion as the cryptid starts doing this weird funky dance, to you, it's a goofy silly dance, to him, it's a mating ritual and the second you crack a smile and start giggling at his mating ritual, he thinks you have accepted his proposal, he's so happy that this cute little human wants to be his mate, he can barely wait in anticipation as he sees your wet clothes sticking to your absolutely delicious body! The cryptid immediately picks you up like paper and carries you even deeper into the forest, you start panicking and try to struggle in the creature's grip but it's futile. Upon seeing your struggle, the cryptid interprets it as you're probably just nerves, but that's okay! He can just hum and sing to you so you feel relaxed cause he needs to make sure his mate is relaxed as he's gonna get his little human pregnant with his seed! And so starts humming a song, occasionally singing it while he keeps taking you deeper and deeper into the forest, before long, you stop struggling and fall limp in his arms as you fall asleep. The cryptid is happy that you're finally relaxed as he places you in his lavish and comfortable nest.

Your clothes are no longer on your body, thrown somewhere in a forgotten corner. Your unconscious body spread apart as you're being split on his large girthy cock, all that can be heard is the wet clenching noises of his inhuman cock hitting deep inside you, slapping against your skin. He plays with your nipples, licking, turning and twisting them, earning a moan from your coma like sleep state. Moans escape your mouth so often even though you're asleep, he's glad that he decided to put you to bed before fucking and breeding your tiny little human body as you definitely would've gotten hurt otherwise as blood drips down from the skin that tore which was expected considering his cock is way too big, so girthy and meaty and the tip is like a mushroom. At one point, you wake up but the immense pain you feel immediately causes you to pass out. The cryptid kisses your lips as it feels itself nearing his release after 3 hours of constant abuse on your tiny body and within a few minutes, he ejaculates inside you, his eggs spilling so deep inside you, your stomach starts bloating a bit and then bloats a lot. You look absolutely divine , filled with his eggs! Although not all of them wi fertiloze, at least one or two will, and he's so excited to see his little human mate all round and pregnant with his spawns!

When you awaken again, you're lying on a fluffy nest, your eyes hazy, you feel dizzy, you feel heavier, you feel extremely sore and in pain to the point tears start trickling down your face, suddenly a pair of rough hands touch you from behind, one caressing your stomach while the other is caressing your face, wiping the tears off of it, you can't do anything but cry "I'm sorry, you must be in a lot of pain, there was lot of blood, don't worry I stitched you up" you wonder how this creature even knows human language, or where he got the tools for stitches or how he knew how to do it, your mind runs a 100 miles a second,youre too scared and exhausted to move so you just whimper when from the corner of your eyes, you spot familiar clothes, you recognize them immediately as the clothes of your "friends", your eyes widen as you see blood on those clothes and your eyes try to wander further to see the full scene but the cryptid immediately covers your eyes with one hand while the other is still caressing your bloates stomach, he coos in your ear "shh darling, you're still recovering, just relax and go back to sleep, you're gonna be a mother soon, you don't need to stress about anything, I got you new clothes as gift for taking my eggs so well, I just haven't washed them yet" is all you hear before passing out again. You're now stuck with this strange creature.

#smut #yandere x reader #yandere x male reader #yandere x female reader #yandere x reader smut #yandere teratophilia #teratophillia #exophelia #yandere exophilia #gender neutral reader #yandere x gn reader #yandere #breeding k1nk #non con #r@pe kink

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winterzsurprise · 1 year

Text

Playing with fire || Miguel O'hara

Pairing: Miguel O'hara x f!reader

Summary: After risking your life to save one spider, Miguel had enough and decided it was time to discipline you.

Tags: SMUT, NOT BETA READ, face slapping (M&F), brat! reader, spanking, very brief blowjob, gagging, Miguel has a big dick, overstimulation (?), multiple orgasm denial, rough sex, pussy slapping, unprotected sex, pain kink, some aftercare at the end.

Words: 2.8k

idk how Tumblr works as well but user @/octobersoot said something about reader being a brat to Miguel and I had to revamp this one idea lol. I hope this counts as reader being a brat.

Spanish speakers, do correct me with the last one in the translation, thank you in advance :DD

cariño - honey || mi vida - my life || coño - fuck (literally means cunt but google said it can also be used as like 'fuck!' or 'shit!' in English)

"NO DON'T!"

When you ripped yourself from Miguel's hands and jumped down into the black hole to catch the Spider-Man that fell into it, you had two thoughts.

If you die, Miguel would pull you from hell to kill you.

If you lived, Miguel would make sure you'd regret it.

As the void approaches, you latched onto one falling debris and leaped out to get closer to the guy whose wrist’s flicked to release some webs for you to catch on but you ignored it. You’ve seen how using webs to catch someone goes and it didn’t end well, you’re not about to make the same mistakes.

Reaching out to grab the falling Peter's hand, you webbed to the nearest stable item you could before feeling Miguel’s webs wrap around your waist. The momentary fear and adrenaline from saving the spider drained out of your skin almost immediately. Hearing the angry man barking orders above you, you prayed early for your soul.

You're not religious but you'd certainly need a diety's kind soul to take pity on you today once you’re left behind doors with Miguel alone.

"AY COÑO, WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?! DID YOU GET YOUR HEAD HIT SOMEWHERE??"

You grunted, tugging President Spidey with you. "Just pull us up!"

"I should let go of you for being so stupid!"

"Then fucking do it coward!"

Despite his comments, it took one tug from Miguel to pull you and President Spider-Man to a safe spot on a building they were resting at to watch the consequences of altering canon events. The anger radiating out of his body would be enough to trigger your senses, his glare searing a hole through your skull.

Looking up sheepishly, Miguel’s face was contorted into subdued rage. The absolute fury lashing in his dark red eyes made your heart drop to the soles of your feet.

You're absolutely fucked and you don't know if you regret it or not.

On one hand, he's going to murder you and split your body into pieces to feed the kraken version of Doc Ock. But on the other, he's unfathomably hot when he's glaring through your flesh and soul.

How could he be so alluring while plotting your murder? You have no idea.

"We're going to have a talk." His darkened voice made your spine tingle, you nod and turned to run towards Hobi but the firm hand on your shoulder halts you. "Don't move, I'll break your knees if you do."

President Spider-Man shrunk beside you, more intimidated by the threat directed towards you than you do.

"Is that a threat, boss?"

"No cariño, it's a promise."

Leaping down to greet the quarantine squad, he left the two of you on the rooftops. President Spidey turned to you, worried to the nines for your soul.

"D-do you need to universe hop? You're free to hide at mine, since it's my fault you're gonna get grinded later."

You laughed, slapping him in the back to which he wheezed at. "Don't worry, he won't bite."

•=•=•=•=•=•

Despite your shit attempt of comforting President Spider-Man, he didn't leave your side, ready to jump in front of you if Miguel happens to snap in the middle of the journey back to HQ. Hobie however, attempted to pry him off of your side with an amused smile.

“Have you realized how fucked you are?”

President Spidey hushed him, to which the man raised an eyebrow at. “Don’t say that.”

When you all entered the office, Miguel halted and you all followed. There’s a buzz in the back of your head and a glance at the nervous wreck beside you tells you that he felt it too.

"Everyone except my wife, leave."

President Spidey almost spoke up, probably to request to stay next to you until Hobie swung his arms around his neck and pulled him out, but not before saluting to you.

"I'll burn the ministry in your honor."

His voice echoed in the dimly lit room until the hatch closed shut, isolating you and your husband from the outside world until further notice. You watch as a yellow holographic lady materializes over his shoulder, Layla whose gaze immediately met yours.

"Layla, make sure no one tries to enter my office until I say so. Go hang out with Spiderbyte in the meantime."

"Don't break the poor girl, she didn't do—"

"I don't want to hear it. Leave."

Sparing you a pitiful smile, she dispersed into the air. With no hatch to escape to, nor any obstacles to run behind, you were left standing a few footsteps away from the man.

"I thought we had an agreement to keep ourselves safe during missions?"

There was a simmering anger hidden behind his words, tone almost dark and bitten back.

"I was safe, you just need to place a little faith on—"

"The last time I did that, the people I cared about died."

You wanted to defend yourself, bring up being safer since you're Spider-Man and all that but you knew it wouldn't end well. Seeing the seething anger radiating off of him, that's the best course of action.

Hanging your head down with a sigh. "Alright, I'm sorry."

"Sorry's not gonna cut it this time, cariño. I think I have to drill it into you."

Your brain clicks, realizing what he said and you frown. "Fucking is not gonna help us right now, Miguel!"

"Well I don't see you complaining every time it happens, do I? If I recall, you've begged, cried and screamed my name again and—"

Your hand moved faster than your brain as you slapped the man. You gasped, bringing both hands up to your mouth as you watched him go silent.

"I-I'm so sorry, I didn't mean—"

"No no no, I see how it is."

You waited for his next move with bated breath, goosebumps prickling your skin. You debated on taking a few steps back but before you could, he surged with his hands grabbing your neck and slamming you on the wall, stealing the breath from your lungs and you gasped.

“You know the words, mi vida?”

You curled your eyebrows at him. Does he mean your safeword?

“F-fucking get your hands off of me, let's talk."

The light slap on your cheeks shocked you, mouth falling ajar at the action. You couldn’t deny the fact that the sting left by his hand has stirred your desires awake, nor can you even dare to mention how breathless—figuratively and literally—he left you.

Miguel observed your eyes, cautious of any hurt flashing in them before putting more pressure on the side of your throat and you greedily inhaled more air as much as you could. Dark spots crawl from the side of your vision and fear starts to claw at your heart.

Yet the uncomfortable slickness and ache between your thighs says otherwise.

"Your words."

"I'm not using them!"

The grin curling his lips sent shivers down your spine, doom looming over you.

"Good."

Before you could say anything, he released your throat and you fell to the floor, inhaling greedily for air as your vision slowly repairs itself.

"I've been wanting to tame that mouth of yours since earlier."

You coughed, peering up at him through your eyelashes. "R-really? I thought you liked that about me?"

"Oh really? I thought I said I only liked your mouth, not your voice."

Grabbing your jaw, he forced you to look up before pushing two of his fingers through your lips, pressing down on your tongue as his suit disintegrated to reveal his formal clothes. Miguel's hand threads through your hair, caressing the back of your head before tugging. With a wicked grin, he continued.

"Strip."

It was a command, not a request. The low timbre of his voice sends jolts of pleasure down your spine. Following his heeds like a hypnotized woman, you made quick work of your clothes, tossing them to the side and unshackling your web shooters.

Reaching up, you unbuttoned his pants and took care of his fly before shrugging the clothing down his thighs. The tent in his boxers sent shivers down your spine, a promise of pleasure behind its confines.

Pulling it down, his girth revealed itself to you and your tongue grew heavy inside your mouth, a few dribbles of pre-cum on the tip and the prominent veins giving it an illusion of being larger than it already is. Miguel pulled you closer making you kiss the base of his dick.

"What a sinful face you have, cariño. I'm starting to like this more."

He guided his length to your mouth, smearing his clear arousal on the plush of your lips making you open up only for his hand to come down harshly against your cheeks once more.

The sharp sting immediately melts into hot arousal pooling down your thighs.

"Do you really think you deserve me, mi cielo? After speaking back to me earlier?"

"I want it, please?"

He scoffed. "'Want' it? Do you think you own me? That's funny."

His webs embraced you and he pulled, making you stumble to the floor with a yelp. Being bound tightly by Miguel who towered over you with sadistic glee and glowering eyes, made you feel small all over.

Yet the sick bastard at the back of your head smiled an ugly grin.

"How about we try it again? Maybe if you ask nicely, I'll give you what you wanted."

He pulled you back to a standing position, his hand immediately locking onto your jaw, forcing your eyes to meet his dilated and darkened red pairs that seemed to tempt you to drown yourself in them.

Your eyes fell to the hand pumping himself leisurely and groaned.

"Please? Darling, I want to taste you."

"Do you deserve it?"

"I'm more of an action type of person than a talker."

He said nothing, watching as you fall back to your knees before tapping the head of his cock onto your lips. Once your mouth opened, his hand on your jaw crawled to the back of your head and pushed.

The sudden and wide intrusion down your throat got you gagging yet Miguel only found pleasure from the throb of your muscles constricting around him.

You remind yourself to breathe through your nose, trying to force yourself through it but your throat complains and you knew you couldn't take it. Slapping his thighs thrice, he pulled away immediately, clicking his tongue while you coughed and gasped for air.

"Bold talk. I knew your mouth wasn't fit for speaking at all. Such a shame it can't do anything at all."

Still focused on the throb in your throat, you weren't able to react fast enough when he pulled you flush to his chest by the web and carried you to the platform where a cushioned chair awaits.

He sat and you ended up on his lap with both his calloused hands grounding you by the shoulder and hips. Miguel's burning eyes roamed the expanse of your chest, one hand rising to trace his gaze with his fingertips and pinching the stiffened peaks of your mounds making you moan from the slightest touch.

"Maybe your pussy could do a better job."

The hand soon crept around your neck with his eyes where it pressed against its sides once more.

It was maddening how you could feel his hardness pressing against your folds yet unable to do much about it. The firm hand on your hips prevents you from grinding down on him. He does reach down to your clit, palming your engorged bead but before you could revel in it, he pulled away.

"Did those slaps get you this wet baby? Didn't know you're such a slut."

Your cheeks lights up and you slapped his cheek lightly for the name he called you, only for Miguel to return it harder.

"You don't get to slap me, slut. The only thing you're for is this pussy."

A wet slap resonated in the room and you cried, thighs closing from the impact on your heat, embarrassment burning your body before shame crawled up your throat as you realized his demeaning behavior seems to only goad you further.

He didn't give you a chance to prepare when he pushed his cockhead into you. Tears brimmed in your eyes as the burn of the stretch stung your veins and stirred your desire further. Every inch inserted tore you apart, the sensation a mixture of heaven and hell, it was delicious as it was painful.

Seeing the struggle in your face, Miguel reached down to roll your clit in slow circles, whispering affirmations into your ears. The moment he sensed your accommodation to his girth did he pull out till his head remained, angling his hips before inserting himself back again to hit the spongy spot on your walls.

You whimpered and moaned in his shoulder as his pace grew with a manic fervor. The pain slowly transitioned into pleasure with the frequency of his thrusts, your nails dug into his shoulder as he pushed himself deeper and deeper into you, narrowly missing your uterus as he pistoned into you.

Mind whirled in ecstasy and lightness brought by his fingers on your throat, you only grabbed onto him for dear life as he quickly dragged you to the edge.

Feeling the familiar pulse and tightness of your walls around him, Miguel suddenly pulled away and you cried.

"Why did you pull away?"

His hand came down with a loud crack! as it collides with the globes of your ass in quick successions. Your hips twists as you clenched desperately on air. Desire clawed at your throat and you whimpered, body already missing the rush of pleasure he brought with every push.

“Do you think you deserve it, mi vida?”

You nodded and he chuckled darkly. “I don’t think you do.”

Despite his words, Miguel entered you once more, picking up his previous pace. Your previous orgasms arose, walls clamping down onto him, desperate for the release you craved so deeply. There's a wet sound echoing in the room along and you flushed deeper yet far too desperate for euphoria to care.

His deft fingers found your clit with experienced accuracy and slapped it with every thrust of his hips.

You shouldn't be enjoying every bit of pain yet here you were, moaning and wriggling your hips for more stimulation like a mad woman.

"My cariño's such a slut taking all of this pain like the whore she is. Bet you liked that spider guy huh? Jumping off like a fool to save a dick, so pathetic."

Miguel pulled away and you cried, the itch of dissatisfaction searing through your body. You clawed at his back as if the pain could threaten him, in response, Miguel swats your rear once more.

"A little slut like you doesn't deserve to cum. After that stupid stunt earlier? Do you think you deserve to come?"

"Yes yes yes."

He slapped you across the face but you could care less, whining.

"Stop being a dick and give it to me, please!"

Clicking his tongue. "Such a desperate slut, I'd slap you for that, but I'm feeling a bit generous."

It was his fingers that attacked you this time, deftly rubbing your clit. Your hips stuttered up to follow his hand.

“Might as well count how many, right?”

Your mind grows lighter as time bleeds against each other. His objections to your orgasms grew frequent as the intervals between your nirvana grew shorter, you have lost count of how many he has denied you and has long stopped doing so, body now laid motionlessly on top of his as you sobbed onto his shoulder from frustration.

Miguel didn't care, in fact, he reveled in your misery every time.

His hips pistoned faster, tip almost always nudging your spot with every thrust as his lips caught yours in a weakened dance, there was a shift in the air and you knew he had finally relented on dragging it out.

"Come for me, darling. I want it all, give it to me."

The pleasure that bursted in your veins wasn't like the others from before. The ecstasy woke every nerve ending in your body alight, limbs growing weightless from the shock of pleasure from your orgasm as electric shocks reverberated from your core and to the tip of your fingers.

Your thighs convulsed violently and you screamed, arousal squirting to drench his stomach. Miguel's arms curled around you protectively as you shivered, whispering hushed affirmations in your ears while the impact of a long-denied orgasm shattered you.

"You did so well for me, mi vida. I’m here, no more of that."

Miguel soaked in your every moans and sobs as he murmured something you couldn't catch, mind far too foggy to process.

You didn't even realize that he didn't came, focused solely on comforting you through your high.

His racing heartbeat matched the pace of the throb in your head, you could hear your breathing echo in your ears yet in the state of exhaustion, you found it calming, melodic even. Miguel’s fingers that gave and tore your pleasure away now caressed the back of your head, gently as if you’ll break apart.

You could make out his chapped lips pressing kisses onto your temple as exhaustion won over your body, eyes falling shut with the melodic rhythm of his heartbeat lulled you to sleep.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x reader one shot #marvel fics #marvel smut #spiderman smut #spider man smut #spider man fics

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muffinlance · 5 months

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Wait, what’s going on with Embers???? That fic has been on my read later list since 2021, what’s happened with it???

Brief overview, then I'm likely never touching this topic again, because this is not a Drama Blog:

Context: Embers is a super old AtLA fic that was written during the early fandom days, read widely at the time, and was the origin of the widely-used fanon name of "Wani" for Zuko's ship (kind of by default that it was one of the first popular fics to give his ship a name, I think?), even though most fic writers don't seem to realize it's from there anymore.

"What's Going On": I used to include a link in all my stories to it, because I believe in crediting other writers for borrowed elements, and I was using "Wani" in all my fics. But BOY did I not want to be sending readers that way anymore, so I've adopted a new name for Zuko's ship, and removed all Embers links.

None of the criticisms about Embers itself are new; I'm assuming they date back to when the fic was being written, because this isn't an "it aged badly" thing, this is an "actually yeah this gets worse the longer you think about it and I shouldn't have ignored my bad feelings just because some of the worldbuilding was interesting" thing.

An Incomplete List of Why I Made the Change:

I don't actually like the story that much anymore, and don't want to rec it

I tried to re-read it recently to see if some things were as bad as I remembered and it turns out they were So Much Worse Oh Yikes. More specifically, the treatment of Katara and Aang and their respective cultures has... rather a lot going on. One example: The Fire Nation and Air Nomads are both given multiple backstory elements in an attempt to make the average Fire Nation soldier's participation in the genocide/war in large part the fault of the Avatar and the Air Nomads themselves, and also fully justified from the Fire Nation perspective. And I do mean fully. One of its core tenants is "People from the Fire Nation (and only people from the Fire Nation) who don't follow orders Literally Die, therefore murdering pacifists and babies and continuing the war (and their regularly scheduled war crimes) is the only thing it is physically possible for them to do". I cannot emphasize enough how literal that is.

Also the name "Wani" means "Alligator" and is... objectively a pretty lame name for Zuko's ship? Where's the personality, where's the deeper meaning, where's the resonance with Zuko's themes? @tuktukpodfics initially thought I was calling the ship "Wanyi", and that's what I've switched to, because it is Objectively So Much Better. In their words: “Wànyī (萬一): Literally ‘one in ten thousand,’ ‘perchance.’ Used grammatically in Chinese to mean ‘what if’ or ‘just in case.’ I think a ship called ‘The Perchance’ is perfect for a boy clinging to false hope.”

TL:DR; I don't rec Embers anymore, because I don't actually like the story anymore, and there are things about it that get worse the more I think on them. I've removed links to it and renamed Zuko's ship to "Wanyi" ("The Perchance") because our boy deserves a ship name that reflects his character arc.

#for the record if you ever find something kind of rancid in my fics #do please let me know #EX: I've rewritten scenes to be better Actual Blind Rep for Toph based on blind reader feedback #and I'm debating how hard it would be to ignore/re-write the canon issues of Water Tribe sexism (for the Southern Tribe at the least)#because that is a common complaint I see from the people who's RL cultures the Water Tribes was based on #probably I can do more interesting things with that going forward #in other words justice for Hama and Hahn #at least the show itself made Hama excellently complex #anyways back to doing actual writing #please no follow up questions #though I will say anyone who wants to update their own fics to use Wanyi (or any other name): go for it!#all you need to do is plop your chapters in a word editor and find/replace the ship name! it took about 40 minutes to do literally #all of my fics and I had some other editing to do besides! it'll be even quicker for you!#let's sink the Wani #avatar the last airbender #atla #Zuko

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incognit0slut · 1 year

Text

Right Kind of Wrong (3)

She never thought she would be involved in a murder investigation. She also never thought she’d encounter her one-night-stand again—the awkward stranger who isn’t exactly that good in bed… Or is he? Offended by the sentiment, Spencer is determined to prove her wrong. But the more he gets tangled with the beautiful stranger, the more he realizes there is more to her than what meets the eye.

Part Summary: she gets involved in a murder case she least expected as a familiar face greets her. wc: 3,7k

Warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content, blood, graphic details of murder

A/n: this part is kind of slow but it’s very important for the plot

Other parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14

Y/N WAS GOING TO QUIT. She was sure of it. Her mind was constantly trying to plan how she would execute the idea without making a scene because she considered slamming her resignation letter on Jamison's desk, dramatically claiming him as a disgusting, chauvinistic bitter old man who only got laid because his wife took pity on him.

She was walking back to her desk after bearing another one of his, "I don't think you can do the job, L/n. Let the men go out to the field and cover the story."

She was also a journalist, for god's sake. And a good one at that. What made that old man think she wasn't as capable as any other male peers around her? Was she too much of a woman to go out on the field and cover stories that were judged as too dangerous for her?

She let out a scoff. The Jamison Lynch worried about her safety? That sounded even more absurd.

"He did it again, didn't he?" Y/n found Sandy, the closest friend she had in this male-dominated agency, peering over her cubicle. She was from the finance department and would often come to entertain her whenever she needed an ear to cry out her frustration. "What is it this time?"

She cleared her throat and made an attempt of lowering her voice into a deeper pitch. "L/n, I don't think you understand how dangerous it is for you to be out there. Let the men do the job."

Sandy laughed. "That's actually a good impression. What work was he talking about?"

"Kevin Marshall's case." Y/n sat back in her chair and frowned. "The ironic thing is, I was the one who found out about this case. I told him about doing a story of it before he snitched this opportunity and gave it to Eric."

"So Eric's covering the story now?"

"Yeah." She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "They're still talking about it in his office."

Sandy blew a low whistle. "That sucks."

She felt beyond frustrated. It seemed so unfair how she always got the bad end of the stick just because she wasn't born with a penis. She told Sandy exactly that which she cackled in return.

"On a serious note," Sandy muttered after her fits of laughter died down and leaned closer. "What happened to Mr. Marshall was terrible."

"You didn't hear this from me, but the police found him stabbed to death and..." she looked around their surroundings, motioning her friend to inch closer. "...there was some writing carved on his body."

Sandy's eyes went wide. "No way."

She nodded. "A friend of a friend of a friend of mine heard it from the forensic team."

"What were the words?"

"Well, if I were to be the one assigned to this case, we would've found out." She shook her head and let out another frustrated cry. "I'm going to quit this job."

"You said that last month," Sandy reminded her. "And the month before that, also, the month before that. Oh, did I mention you also said that several months ago—"

She held out her hand. "Alright, I got it." She glanced over the closed door at the end of the hallway, her mind drifting towards the two men discussing her supposedly case behind it. "I really mean it this time."

"Sure," Sandy absentmindedly agreed. "Wait, didn't you know Mr. Marshall?"

"Not really. I only met him once for work." She winced as her thought traveled to the time she encountered the man who was brutally murdered two days ago. "Let's just say he wasn’t exactly the greatest person to interview."

"No kidding."

She dismissed the topic by waving her hand. "It happened a long time ago, let's not bring that up. I'd feel terrible bad-mouthing him after what happened." She then let out a sigh. "It would be quite a story to cover though."

"Yeah, well, screw Jamison for taking it away for you." Sandy's eyes suddenly gleamed as they narrowed towards the automatic door at the corner of the room. "At least your boyfriend is here."

Y/n spotted the young man walking their way and laughed. "He's not my boyfriend."

"I don't think he got the memo," Sandy whispered before straightening herself, giving the man a huge grin as he stopped at her desk. "Hey, Oliver."

"Hi, Sandy." He greeted slowly. "How are you?"

"Better now that I've seen your pretty face."

Oliver Walsh was indeed an absolutely stunning man. He was tall and lean with broad shoulders and a very defined face. He was a little mysterious and reserved, but underneath that veneer was someone who was kind and caring.

He might not be the most outgoing person, but he had a genuine sweetness that made him attractive and likable. He also happened to have the hugest crush on Y/n the moment he first stepped foot inside this building.

Oliver gave Sandy a smile. "You look beautiful yourself."

Sandy rolled her eyes playfully. "We know I'm not the one you should be sweeping off her feet." She then gave Y/n a pointed look. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"What? You're going home already?"

"Got a hot date tonight!" Sandy overly shared before sauntering out of their sight. Y/n shook her head at her friend's antics before glancing up to see Oliver staring at her with the same look he had been giving her ever since the moment he had introduced himself.

His clear affection didn't go unnoticed. It somehow managed to be a public assumption that he was head over heels for her, something that was often discussed between their peers. As much as she wanted to reciprocate his feelings because she understood how difficult it was to be on the other side of unrequited love, she merely saw him as a guy she often worked with.

"Can I help you, Oliver?" She asked, already weary of the grin plastered on his face.

"No, I just wanted to see how you were doing."

Her face fell at his words. "How I'm doing?"

"I heard Jamison snatched a very important job from you."

"Wow," she gasped, not understanding how he knew this information already. But then again, people had the tendency to share things they overheard. "News really does travel fast around here."

"There's no such thing as secrets in this place. But seriously, how are you holding up?"

She simply shrugged. "Oh, I don't know. Angry? Frustrated? Like I want to strangle Jamison myself?"

"Y/n, there's no such thing as a bad bone in your body."

"What? You don't think I'm capable of hurting him?"

"Nope. You're the sweetest person I know."

She snorted. "That's because you keep seeing me through rose-tinted glass."

"Maybe." Oliver crossed his arms and leaned his hips over her desk. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

She shook her head. He raised his brows. "Really? You can't think of anything?" She shook her head again. "Perhaps something to appease your frustration? Chocolate? You do love chocolate."

"I do, but I don't think anything sweet can even calm me down."

"Then how about a drink? Coffee? Beer? You and me? Together? Tonight?"

She let out a disbelief laugh as she stood up, making an attempt to gather her things. "Don't be so sly, Oliver."

He merely gave her a bashful smile. "Can't blame a guy for trying."

"It's never going to work between us." She paused dramatically. "Do you want to know why?"

He slowly nodded, eying her with earnest interest.

"Because you see, Oliver," she drawled as she closed the distance between them. She peered up at him through her lashes and threw him a grin. "I never mix business with pleasure."

She gave him a playful wink before turning around, leaving him dumbfounded and speechless as he stood there where she had left him. He let out an amused laugh before calling out, "I'm going to make you change your mind!”

She lifted her hand and waved at him without looking back. "Goodnight, Walsh."

His laughter was the last thing she heard before she turned around the corner, heading towards the parking area.

Turning him down was the right thing to do. She was not in the right place to be emotionally involved with other people right now. After going through so many heartbreaks and disappointments in the past, she couldn't take any more of the dating scene. It was just a bunch of awkward interactions and unmet expectations while feeling worn down by the whole process. She couldn't even remember the last time she was involved with a man.

A sudden mock laughter rang at the back of her head. You were involved with a complete stranger two nights ago!

Romantically, she corrected. She couldn't remember the last time she was involved with a man romantically.

Oh, great. Now she was fighting with herself upon what had happened that night. That... overwhelming and embarrassing night which she did not want to speak of. Overwhelming because of how much she wanted to see him again, embarrassing because she knew he did not feel the same.

She groaned as her mind somehow drifted to memory, her mind reminiscing that intoxicating feeling of his tongue inside her mouth for the first time. Or that moment before he settled above her, sinking between her legs as the tip of his hard, throbbing length squeezed into her warm entrance—

No! Don't even go there!

She stopped her pace and stood by the entryway of the parking lot, trying to calm her erratic heartbeat. She needed a moment to breathe. Between her frustration toward her boss, the constant interest from her fellow colleague, and the rush of sexual heat at that core memory, her head was starting to spin.

It wasn't until a sudden weight shoved her from the back that she woke from her trance. She jolted forward from the impact before her bag fell onto the ground, the remnants of her things spilling out, and scattered along her feet. "What the hell?"

She looked up to see the back side of a man moving forward in a hurry, not even sparing her a glance.

"Hey!" She shouted, clearly annoyed by the fact an unidentified man wearing a dark hoodie covering his face didn't have the decency to apologize. When he turned around the corner and escaped her line of vision, she realized she wasn't going to get the apology she desired.

She picked up her belongings while muttering curses under her breath. Her phone which lay a few inches away from her feet suddenly vibrated, the loud sound of an incoming call echoing throughout the open space of the lot. She peered over towards the screen and groaned.

She shoved the phone inside her bag and went on her way as she spotted her car. "Now's not the time, Jamison," she mumbled to herself, already irritated by how the night had turned out.

Her phone went silent again. It wasn't until she was a few feet away from her car that it began its chime a second time. The sound felt heavy in her ears and she finally got to her car, leaned against it, and reluctantly dug into her bag to retrieve the device.

She clutched onto it with disdain because Jamison was known to be persistent while also being inconsiderate and thoughtless. If she ignored him he would find another way to get under her skin. She slumped against the cool material of her car and slowly took a deep, aggravating breath before receiving the call. "Yes, Jamison—"

There was heavy breathing at the end of the line. A static sound greeted her before a loud crash echoed in the background. She looked over her phone screen before pressing it back against her ear. "Jamison?"

"...help..."

His croaked voice shot shivers down her spine. She straightened herself as panic washed over her body. Her boss was known for being very loud as he loved being the center of attention. But his voice sounded so quiet now. It didn't have that hint of self-centered confidence he liked to portray. It even sounded as if he were... in pain?

"Jamison?" She gulped and without thinking of her actions, her feet somehow moved on their own, navigating her back to where she had left. "Jamison, what's wrong? Are you hurt? Can you hear me?"

"...Y/n..." Crash. Cough. Gasp. "...help—"

The line went dead.

Y/n wasn't exactly a fit person. Her only form of physical activity would be the number of stairs she climbed up and down in her apartment building. But her feet were moving very fast on its own right now. She didn't care how running in a pair of flats wasn't the best idea, the mortification of something awful happening to someone asking for her assistance was gnawing into her consciousness.

The moment she was on her office floor, she took notice of how nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary. The place was exactly how she had left minus all the people hanging by their respective desks. Because it was very, very quiet and the silence felt oddly eerie to her. Half of the lights were off and her steps halted for a moment as she entered her cubicle space, suddenly self-aware of the possibility of how something dangerous might occur.

Then she heard a scream. A deep, dreadful scream followed by a train of curses came from what she assumed was Jamison's office. Her feet moved again and her frightened demeanor was replaced by concern as she increased her pace, turning to the hallway towards his office.

Her movement faltered when she realized she wasn't alone. A very frightened-looking Eric Adler stood by Jamison's door before he turned around at the sound of her footsteps.

"Eric?"

His voice was etched with panic and horror as he rushed forward and held her by the arms. "No, Y/n."

"...what?" Her eyes shot behind him, noticing Jamison's door jarred open. She tried to escape his grip. "You don't understand. He called me—"

"No. Please. You don't want to see him in there—"

"Let go of me! He called—"

"Y/n." His grip tightened. "He's—he's... gone."

She looked up to see her coworker, the same man who simply stood in silence this evening as he took the job she had wanted. The confused look in his eyes from the sudden responsibility he had to take on that particular moment was now replaced by terror; a look of sheer horror, one which conveyed utter fear and panic. It was a look of complete devastation and utter helplessness, a look that made his soul seem to have been just sucked out of his body. It was the kind of look that conveyed the deepest despair one could possibly feel.

He's gone.

Gone could mean a lot of things. It could mean disappearance. It could mean an emotional state of feeling disconnected from the world. But this gone... she understood what it meant. She understood the weight of the word the moment her eyes spotted the surge of blood coming from Jamison's office.

There was so much blood that she should've felt disgusted by the amount of it, but her mind was too busy trying to convince herself that it was real. It wasn't until her eyes spotted a hand sprawled lifelessly across the floor that her stomach started to churn. The stone rings circling around the fingers were the exact rings she often saw on her boss.

The realization on her face had Eric pulling her away. But before he could drag her, she saw a glimpse of the lifeless body, and what she caught had her completely stunned. More than feeling mortified by the scene, a sense of bewilderment settled in. The disbelief of such a coincidence happening etched her mind as she peered over the body one last time.

Because something was carved along his arm.

There was a lot of waiting. Feeling impatient was one of the most frustrating things to ever exist, it made her feel anxious and restless about the lack of progress after Eric had called the authorities. He had guided her to the front area of the receptionist, given her a blanket he had found somewhere in the office—which she wasn't sure who it even belonged to—and given her a cup of warm tea as he made some calls.

She sat there, watching her coworker pace back and forth along the marble floor. She could tell Eric's mind was secretly all over the place with his disheveled hair and dark circles underneath his eyes, but somehow he managed to keep his calm.

He was steady, still a little fazed with the whole ordeal, but managed to keep checking up on her every five minutes. He even had the time to apologize for taking her job before she merely shook it off. It wasn't his decision to snatch away the opportunity. Though it felt inappropriate to point fingers at the person who actually did decide on the matter when he was lying in the other room covered in his own blood.

She shuddered again. There were so many questions running through her mind. What kind of person would do a terrible, gruesome thing to another human being? It was always the same question she had whenever she encountered such devastating news. She once read in an article that there were roughly 300,000 people who were killed by murder each year worldwide, and to think that one of them happened to somebody she knew felt so surreal.

The authorities finally came an hour later followed by a group of people wearing protective suits. The waiting for their arrival was very long, but everything happened so fast the moment they introduced themselves. A detective in an oversized suit talked to her and Eric separately, asking what happened prior to finding the body.

She suddenly felt nauseous as she recalled Jamison's phone call, how pained and desperate his voice sounded. It wasn't until she heard herself say it out loud that she realized the possibility of the killer being in the same room on that phone call. Or even in the same room as her as she entered the vicinity of their office.

"Ms. L/n?" Y/n looked up to see the detective watching her with worry. "Are you alright?"

No, she wasn't. But she merely nodded and gave him a smile. "I will be."

He returned the smile with a genuine one of his own and glanced at his watch. "You should get some sleep, Ms. L/n. If you have any more information please don't hesitate to contact us."

Then he left her standing there alone, watching people bustling around her with different equipment. She could hear the faint sound of the ambulance from the distance, smell the intoxicating scent of chemicals coming from the medics, and sense her fatigue creeping along her body as her eyes noted the time showed on the massive clock plastered on the wall.

"Ms. L/n?"

Y/n turned to see a man standing close, his dark eyes watching her cautiously. There was a sense of confidence in his posture that she couldn't help but notice. "Yes?"

"Mr. Adler told me where to find you." She frowned at the mention of Eric before her confusion deepened at the badge presented in front of her. "I'm SSA Derek Morgan from the FBI."

"FBI?"

"Yes," he confirmed, shoving his badge back into his pocket. "I'd like to ask you a few questions regarding this past event."

She crossed her arms. "I don't think my boss being brutally killed should be called an event." She steadied her gaze on him. "And I've already talked to the detective."

"My apologies, and I'm terribly sorry for your loss." He gave her an apologetic smile. "Although I would appreciate it if you can spare a few minutes of your time."

She observed him, watching him hesitantly before letting out a heavy sigh. "I guess so."

"Is there anywhere private we can talk?"

His attempt at keeping their conversation confidential from all the people swarming by had her quirking an eyebrow. She nodded and guided him toward the closest space that could provide them some privacy. "Sure... We can use the conference room down here."

"Thank you. My partner will also be present with us if you don't mind."

She looked him up and down. "There's two of you?"

"There's two of us," Agent Morgan confirmed, slightly smiling at the condescending tone of her voice. "Dr. Reid will shortly join us."

The silence after that statement was very, very palpable. The sudden stillness was one that typically left her feeling completely baffled, a state of total shock and disbelief over a familiar name unexpectedly mentioned. The uncertainty of her ability to hear left her frozen in her tracks, waiting for her brain to catch up with the sudden information. "Doctor... Reid?"

"Dr. Spencer Reid. He was talking to Mr. Adler a while ago—wait, there he is." Agent Morgan's voice grew louder as his eyes focused on the man behind them. "Reid! Over here!"

He surely couldn't be...?

She shook her head. The world wasn't that small, was it? Even though she was very bad at remembering names, how could she forget the exact same one she wrongly called as a result of her pettiness? And besides, there must be a lot of people possessing the same name, surely it was a different person.

Though the deafening lack of sound was jarring as if every other sound had been sucked out of the room. It almost felt like everything was frozen in time as her eyes settled on the man standing a few feet away from her. Because there he was, the same man who awkwardly flirted with her two days ago.

The same man who grabbed her by the waist the moment she looked up at him with need. The same man who leaned in closer, the tension charged with anticipation and desire before it lead to an explosion of passion that couldn't be quelled.

But the desperate longing in his eyes from that night was changed into mortification, and when she thought her night couldn’t go more terrible than it already was, it had gotten even worse.

>> NEXT PART

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flowersadida · 5 months

Text

I know people have already talked about this topic, but I want to too.

There are a lot of jokes on the Internet about how Katara constantly mentions her mother as if it were the most important event, but...

Isn't that so? I mean, in the life of a little eight-year-old girl, this is truly the most important event in her life and she wants to share it.

Katara took on the role of an adult too early, and she didn't have the opportunity to work through this problem with anyone, because she's already an adult => she cannot afford to rely on someone. But she needs it, and that's what traveling with Aang gives her: the opportunity to find children like her and share with them the burden that she has been carrying all this time. Note that Haru, Jet, and even Zuko are people who not only have experienced loss, but also have some kind of responsibility for others: for their family or even for a group of people. She doesn't tell adults about this because she isn't looking for care, she's looking for understanding of her feelings.

The problem is that it's not enough for her. Her sadness turns to rage because the further the story goes, the less satisfied Katara becomes.

The closer the heroes get to the end of the war, the more angry Katara gets: first at her father, then more specifically at Zuko. And, in the end, she finds the cause of this anger, as well as the opportunity to satisfy the thirst for understanding of her grief - the murderer of her mother. She needed revenge not just because it was fair, but because from the very beginning of the series, Katara was looking for an opportunity to calm those feelings that were rushing out. And her attempts to do this by expressing the problem were not enough. She needed more, and she got it by facing the biggest monster in her life.

In general, the “monster” metaphor obviously speaks not only about Yon Ra, but also about Katara herself. Or rather about her anger. Judge for yourself: she had to restrain a storm of emotions from the age of eight; she began to reveal her grief only in the first season, that is, at the age of 14. She ignored her pain, pushing it deep inside until it became a raging monster rushing out. And what Katara really needed was to face it. So when she flies to find Yon Ra, she also finally meets the version of herself that she has carefully ignored and hidden for the benefit of others.

It's funny that Zuko is the one who helps her. In general, it was his complete understanding of Katara in this matter that amazed me. He, like no one else, knows what it’s like to face your inner demons and knows how useful it is for knowing yourself. And how dangerous it is when you're alone in it. So he accompanies her to keep her safe. So that she has a person on her side who will be there, no matter what choice she makes. He will support anyone. (I'm crying because of how beautiful it is wasgffv💖)

(A small antikataang insert: this is the reason why their relationship doesn't work. Aang only supports the right decisions, even if they require Katara to sacrifice inner harmony, while Zuko will simply support her for whatever choice she makes. It's funny because Aang has to keep balance and as a monk he knows a lot about that. The show focuses heavily on the theme of yin and yang, that is, the balance of good and evil. In order to achieve internal balance, Katara needed to turn to internal evil, because she tilted this scale towards good. She was imbalanced to begin with, and instead of understanding this, Aang insisted on continuing the preponderance of good. It’s as if he doesn’t understand that the preponderance of good is as bad as the preponderance of evil, and this will only harm Katara. I hope my point is clear)

Finally, Katara finds inner peace when she faced everything that was raging inside her, when she did what she needed and poured out everything she ever wanted. Every word about her mother led us to this moment, as did Katara herself.

And do you know what the point is? Why am I telling all this? It's all a character arc that unfolds linearly over three seasons.

Now think back to the arc of Aang, the main character of the show, in relation to his family. Did he bring them up in seasons two and three in a way that was linear? I mean, the one who constantly grieves over his father's death should have been Aang, because he learned the pain of loss so recently, he didn't have a chance to get used to it. But even in the episode SR, Aang compares the loss of mother not to the loss of his mentor and father, but to the loss of Appa and his people. It’s as if he doesn’t care about the individual connection with Gyatso and it’s nominal.

Katara, on the other hand, has emotions that she smoothly carries throughout the show and resolves in it. She has a huge number of Chekhov's guns, which each fire at its own time. Her feelings about her mother, the development of these emotions and their resolution are the most beautiful thing about this show along with Zuko's arc (even though I have problems with him in book 3).

And making derogatory jokes about it like Katara is whining and annoying is blasphemy. After all, she's the only one of the Gaang who has a single development arc throughout all three seasons, this must be respected

#atla #atla critical #avatar the last airbender #atla meta #anti kataang #anti aang #katara #zuko #zutara #katara supremacy #katara is the real main character change my mind #katara deserved better #katara meta #southern raiders

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themorningsunshine · 1 year

Text

Muffins

Pie - eyed over you - Chapter 3

Mafia - Baker AU

Masterlist Series Masterlist

Previous Part

Pairing - Mafia!Bucky x Baker!Reader

Summary - When a new baker in town refuses to abide by his rules, Bucky has no option but to go and take care of it himself. But nothing could prepare him for what stood on the other side. Nothing could prepare him for you.

Warnings - Mentions of murder, lots of fluff (gotta give the fluff before the angst for it to hurt more, yup I am evil), Steve and Sam being a menace

Word count - around 6k

a/n - So, after two delays, hell a lot of editing, and straight up changing the whole structure of this chapter and then combining it with another (hence the length), it’s finally here. Thank you so much to all of you for putting up with me. Please let me know what you guys think about this. Your kind words keep me going.

You placed the muffins in a tray for display before making a note in your diary to buy more chocolate chips when you go to the market on the weekend.

Running a bakery all on your own is a difficult job but you wouldn't trade it for anything else in the world. Even though you were not a morning person, the prospect of coming here and baking made it getting up from the bed every morning a tad bit easier.

As you heard knocks on the door, you frowned before looking up, there was still some time left before it was time to open up the bakery.

But when your eyes landed on the figure standing outside the door, looking like a complete misfit in his dark clothes and sunglasses and surprisingly, a baseball cap covering his forehead, a pathetic attempt at being discreet, you can't help the way your lips turn upward and your heart flutters.

He was here just yesterday and yet it felt like you were seeing him after too long.

Get yourself together.

It's just a crush, it'll go away.

You wiped your palms on your apron before walking towards the door to open it.

You gave him a teasing smile before saying, "You're at the wrong place. Baseball convention is another mile from here."

He rolled his eyes before stepping inside the bakery, bending a little, the door a little too short for him. "Hello to you too, sweets."

You chuckled before walking towards the counter as he took his usual seat. Everything felt like a routine. Engraved in your soul as if it had always been there.

"Gracing this bakery with your presence two days in a row. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Maybe I just missed my sweets." He shrugged as if it was obvious.

"Continue this and you are going to get diabetic." You remarked with a smirk.

"Not the sweets I was talking about, but okay."

The smirk immediately left your lips as you could practically feel your heart beat out of your chest. He didn't mean it. He's just teasing.

But no matter what you think, you can't help the way the red color crept up to your neck at his words.

Okay, this crush is getting out of hand.

"So, how's work?" You say in an attempt to change the topic.

He tenses at your words. You had asked him what he did, and he had replied that he was a mechanic. It was becoming more difficult for him to lie to you.

But maybe, he won't have to much longer.

He was pretty sure Walker was on his way to screw things up.

That son of a -

"Earth to James!!" Your voice moving and your palm waving in front of his face brought him out of his thoughts.

"I asked how was work." You said with a frown. James always got weirdly uncomfortable when you asked about work. Maybe he didn't want to talk about it, but you were no one to ask.

"Oh, it's been fine. You know, the usual."

"Yeah, yeah. Steve is a dorky idiot and Sam is an annoying prick. I know." You said imitating the words he had said to you not a long time ago.

Bucky chuckles. Telling you about Steve and Sam was easier. Maybe sharing something about him which wasn't a lie, made him feel less guilty.

He knew this was wrong.

He was creating a web of lies that you will find out one day.

But Bucky Barnes wasn't a good man and he would take whatever time he has got before the inevitable happened.

Which wasn't going to be today.

He wasn't going to let Walker ruin this.

He will just sit there, hiding half of his face with the baseball cap. It would be easy. It wasn't like Walker would expect to see him here anyways.

He was just here to make sure that he didn't hurt you.

The both of you striked a conversation just like usual and you immediately felt better. You knew it was going to be a great day. Had started off on the best possible note, atleast.

The clock striked eight before you knew it and you got up from your chair to flip the sign at the bakery.

"Why don't you hire someone to help you?" James asks, sipping his coffee.

"Why, you're looking for a job?" You teased him with raised eyebrows. "Job at the garage doesn't pay enough for your baseball conventions?"

He rolled his eyes. "When are you gonna let this one go?"

"I think… never."

He chuckled before asking again, "But, seriously, sweets, why not get a helping hand?"

" 'Cause I am selfish." When he narrowed his eyes, you continued. "I know this sounds weird, but I don't like it when anybody else cooks the food. It's just never good enough."

"So, why not hire someone to deal with the customers?"

"That's literally the best part of the job." You half exclaimed. "People telling you whether they liked the sweets or not is the best part, James. Almost as good as getting to eat all the leftovers."

James chuckled before setting his coffee mug down. "There is no pleasing you."

You shrugged before walking behind the counter to get everything ready for the morning rush you were sure was about to walk through the door any moment now.

When a few people came in, some regular customers and some students hoping to get in some caffeine to start the day, you saw as James involuntarily tensed.

Bucky watched the front door with focused eyes as minutes ticked by. He knew Walker will be here any minute now.

And he was proven right as he saw John Walker opening the door of the bakery and walking in with a smug look on his face, shoving away whoever came in his path.

Bucky wanted nothing more than to pull him out of here, away from you and this warm place but he couldn't do that. There would be consequences, which he normally wouldn't give a second thought to, but the real nuisance would bring questions.

He watched as you greet him with the same grin on your face that you used for all your customers, saying in a soft voice, "Hey, what can I get you?" And Bucky can swear Walker doesn't even deserve to breathe the same air as you.

"Why not start by paying off?" Walker said with a tone harsh and loud enough that a few customers turned to see what was happening.

You frowned your eyes in confusion, "I am sorry." You were still speaking in a calm, soft voice, trying your best to get whoever this man was to calm down. You didn't want a commotion so early in the day.

"Walker." He said as if it was enough of an introduction before continuing, "And I think you have an idea of where I am coming from. You owe us."

James watched as realization dawned on your face and you stood straighter, your smile turning into a forwn. "I don't owe anyone anything."

He leaned towards you, keeping his arms crossed on the counter, speaking with a smirk, "Don't try to act smart, baby doll. Pay up and no one gets hurt."

He watches as you cringe at the nickname and almost take a small step back, discomfort clear on your face.

Bucky almost gets up from his chair, his first instinct to slit off Walker's throat with the knife he had tucked in his jacket. He would make it less messy too, but painful.

Control, he isn't going to hurt her.

"I am not going to pay you a single cent, Walker. So, why don't you take your ass out of my bakery and leave me alone?" As you speak, your hand inches towards the knife that you keep below the counter for situations like these. Even though you hoped you'd never have to use it, it was better to be prepared than sorry.

John clenches his fist as his eyes bore into your skull, "Don't make this difficult. You don't know who you are trying to mess up with. The people I work with wouldn't blink an eye before dumping your body in a dumpster. Just pay every month and we leave you alone."

"I have said it before and I'll say it again, I am not going to pay you to let me live." It's as if something switches inside you. The slight fear or discomfort that could be seen in your features is completely gone now.

Bucky watches as Walker growls in impatience before reaching for his jacket pocket.

Nope, not happening

"Listen to me, you little bitch - "

Walker is cut off immediately when a larger figure stands between him and the counter.

James shields you from him, obstructing his view.

"Leave her alone." The sound is almost a growl. And if Walker hadn't been too preoccupied he would have noticed how familiar that sounded.

"And who the hell are you?" He spat.

Bucky looks down at him and watches as all the color is drained out of his face when he recognises him.

"S - si "

"Leave her alone and if you show up around here ever again, it will be you in the dumpster, cut into more pieces than you can count."

Fear is obvious on Walker's face, as he completely forgets the weapon he was reaching for, trying to get his senses to work, confusion evident on his face.

Before he can ask any questions, Bucky takes a step towards him, with sheer coldness in his eyes as if he could slit Walker's throat right now and wouldn't blink.

You watch as the man - who had introduced himself as Walker- saunters out of the bakery with quick steps.

You frowned your eyes at whatever had happened here.

You weren't going to pay the mob any money, you knew that. But you also knew that you couldn't have overpowered that man, especially if he had a weapon hidden under there somewhere.

"You didn't have to do that, James." You said softly, in an attempt to get his attention away from the door he was boring holes in.

He turned back and you watched as his expression turned into the soft one you were so familiar with.

You walked from behind the counter towards where he was standing before explaining, "He works for the mob. Trust me, you don't want to get involved with them."

Bucky's breath hitches at that. How could he explain to you that he wasn't just involved with the mob?

"It's okay, sweets. They won't hurt me." That was some truth. They were never going to hurt him, and before Walker could utter a single word to anyone about the events of the day, he would be fired. Bucky would make sure of that.

"I know." You sighed, looking down at the floor as if contemplating something. It was silent for a moment before you looked up, "Thank you, James. It does mean a lot to me." You said with a soft, grateful smile on your face and your hand reached out to his.

"Anytime, sweets."

A moment passed before anyone of you dared to move. Your hand was now brushing his arm in slight touches.

You broke the silence, "Come on, have some muffins. They are on me." You said before turning back and walking towards the counter.

Bucky had to stand there for a moment because his skin had suddenly started to feel cold and empty. Like it wasn't enough without your touch, before walking back towards the counter and standing right in front of where you were taking out some muffins on a plate.

"So, Ms Feisty, something against the mob?" He said, trying desperately for his voice to sound joking.

You shrugged while passing the muffins to him and turning to pour some coffee for yourself. "I am not going to pay them money just because everybody else does. Why the hell do I pay taxes?"

"But the way you were standing, you don't just want to rebel, sweets. You hate them." He said, an emotion in his voice you couldn't really place. He prayed that that wasn't the case, that he had read the situation wrong and maybe you didn't really hate the mob.

"Hate is a strong word, James. I - despise them." You reply before looking up at him to meet his eyes, but he looks away, almost as if looking at you right now would physically hurt him.

"I mean, they aren't really that bad, right? It's not like I know a lot about them but I have heard they protect the city." He tries.

"Uh-huh. They are not good people. You remember that day when we met? When it was raining and I had lost my way, and you were there - "

"I remember the day we met, sweets." He interrupts. Every part of that day was engraved in his mind.

"Yeah, yeah right. So, that day I was coming back from a friend's house. She has a daughter, Ellie, about 5 years old."

He hums, nodding his head, not sure where you were going with this.

"Both of them were switching houses. Leaving their home, that they had built, to live in a one bedroom apartment in the not so respected area of the town. You know why?"

He narrowed his eyes.

"Because her dad was killed." You took a deep breath, trying to keep the rage from bubbling up to the surface. "A 5 year old lost her father, James. And why? Because of some stupid mob feud."

"What was her dad's name?" He asked, not sure if he wanted to know the answer.

"Jake"

Bucky's moments halted as images came back to his mind's forefront. He had killed that man himself. Shot three bullets straight into his chest. He had felt no remorse then. That man was a traitor. Had joined hands with the enemy, knowing very well what the consequences could be.

He had felt no remorse then because he hadn't given a moment of thought to the people he might be leaving behind. It made his work easier. Pretending that there were no consequences to whatever they did.

But now he could see the consequences. In the form of rage in your eyes at the tale and the hurt he felt in his chest, thinking about the girl. He knew how that felt. Being alone, and helpless.

"She didn't deserve that. None of them did. Nobody deserves to lose somebody they love, James. But it hits the worst when it's unforeseeable. When the people who did it are out there in the world, as if their hands aren't tainted with blood, living their life and you can do nothing about it." You say, swallowing the lump in your throat. Thinking about your friend and Elliot always brought you to tears. You tried to help them as much as you could, but there was only so much you could do.

Bucky looks into your eyes and sees tears in the corner of your eyes. He wants to hold your hand, to comfort you, to tell you that they are going to be fine. But how could he, when his were the hands that were tainted with blood, that had taken the life of that man without a second thought.

So, he just sits there, listening to you talk about the lady and her kid, even though each of your words is like a sword stabbed through his chest.

When he knows you are fine, he takes his leave, bidding you goodbye before walking out and calling Steve.

"Steve, I need you to do something."

"What's up, Buck? Everything okay?" Steve replied in a concerned voice. Even after everything, his concern for his best friend never faded.

"I am sending you some details of a lady and her kid. Send me the contacts of the person who bought their house."

"Give me half an hour. But who are these people?"

"They are going to be our responsibility, Steve."

He cuts the call and sends a quick text with all the details he might need.

He can't help but turn back towards the bakery to have one last look. He has made up his mind. He was going to tell you the truth.

he didn't care if it meant you would hate him. There were many people in the town who despised him, what's one more?

But when he turns back and his eyes land up on you, handing a cup of coffee to a middle aged lady, talking to her with a softness unique to you.

As if you can feel his eyes on you, you turn towards the window and as your eyes meet, your smile grows wider. A smile that's only reserved for him, he realizes.

And he would have hated himself for how quickly his resolve fades away.

But Bucky Barnes was not a good man.

And maybe many people in this world did hate him, but he would be damned if you were one of them.

He wanted this. The weekly bakery visits, the warmth, the sheer simplicity of it all, even if it was all this was ever going to be.

And it was about damn time he got what he wanted.

Why should he apologize for the monster he has become when no one ever apologized for making him this way?

Maybe, one day you'll find out the truth and hate him more for lying to you, but it wasn't going to be anytime soon. He will make sure of that.

So, he straightens his coat and walks away from the bakery, choosing to not pay any mind to the inevitable doom that could leave the both of you shattered.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*

"James Buchanan Barnes"

He turns back from what he is doing to find you, cross armed, shooting daggers at him.

"How could you, James? It's like you're not even trying."

He can't help the smile that finds its way to his lips at the way you look. Your christmas sweater that you had deemed "perfect" for the occasion and a scarf draped loosely on your neck, trying to look intimidating, just makes you look even cuter.

You walk towards him and take the candy decoration from his hand, to place it exactly just an inch away from where he was going to, because it looked in your exact words, "more festive"

Bucky just smiles at you as he watches you ramble more about Christmas decorations.

When a week ago, he had heard you reminding Pietro that he had to come over to help you decorate, he had stepped in and offered his help. He was free that day anyways, he had told you. There was an international shipment that he had to sign off that day, but that could wait.

When Pietro had shaken his hand and thanked him for 'saving him', he didn't understand, but now he did. You were extremely particular about how each and everything had to look for christmas and was not shy to tell the other person what a terrible job they were doing if it wasn't exactly the way you had wanted.

But if the cute pout on your face and the warmth that it caused in his chest was any indication, it was worth it. The cookies whose smell reached him even in the living room was just an added bonus.

Right now, standing in the middle of your apartment, surrounded by incomplete decorations that signaled the arrival of a festival he wouldn't have cared the slightest about a year ago, being scolded by you for not hanging the canes correctly, he regretted nothing.

3 hours and a lot of debates later, all of which you won, the house was finally decorated enough for the festival.

"Here you go." You said, handing him a warm cup of coffee and placing a plate full of cookies on the table in front of him. It was your way of saying thank you.

Bucky looks around your apartment. It's just above the bakery and much smaller than the mansion he lived in. But it felt different in a way he couldn't point out.

A shelf filled to the brim with books standing in the corner, pictures adorning the walls, each telling a different story. Some soft music playing on the speaker, it was like a blanket of warmth stood over your house. A little messy, but beautiful nonetheless.

His eyes then land on you, sitting across from him on the sofa, sipping your coffee with a warm, content look on your face, your scarf now lying on the table.

As if you could feel his gaze, you turn back to look at him and your breath hitches in the throat at the way he is looking at you.

It's as if the world could crumble around him and he wouldn't blink an eye.

You can't get yourself to look away. So, you just raise your eyebrows, because you have suddenly forgotten how to breathe and if he didn't look away right now, you are not sure you will be able to survive longer.

He just shrugs and turns towards his coffee, as if it was a natural occurrence. As if your whole world hadn't stopped spinning for a moment there.

Bucky looks at you through the corner of his eyes and watches as red color creeps up to your neck and you try your hardest to not smile.

He now recognises the feeling.

Your apartment feels like home.

And the next realization brings with itself questions and doubts he wasn't ready to answer.

He wouldn't rather be anywhere else.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩

He clenches his fist as he drags his feet towards the bakery.

It was pretty late. He knew that.

But he just had to be there.

He liked his work more often than not. The impending guilt and the danger aside, the reason that had initially brought him to this world still stood.

It made him feel something. The adrenaline of each task, the satisfaction of seeing everything that belonged to his enemies burning down till there was nothing but smoke.

The mafia world had welcomed the darkness that he had inside of him and made him one of their own, for which he will be eternally grateful.

But for some time now, it hasn't been enough.

The darkness that had surrounded and consumed him for so many years now was suddenly not enough.

Something inside him changed.

For the first time in as long as he could remember, he had thought twice before shooting that man today. The whispers inside him that asked him every time 'if there was any other way' had become louder now and even the noise of the bullets couldn't silence it.

He knew what was happening.

He was seeking the light.

And every single part of him knew that this could only end in disaster. In a fire that threatened to burn every single thing to the last piece.

But that didn't stop him from taking the next step. Or the one after that.

He was still walking to the one place that could silence away his thoughts and make it all go away. Like a moth attracted to a flame.

Maybe this was selfish of him. Maybe he was tainting you with his darkness.

He will think about that some other day.

When the bakery comes into view, he realizes just how late it is.

You would be about to close now.

Maybe he could catch a glimpse before you retired for the night. It wasn't enough. It was never enough. But it had to do.

As he reaches the bakery, he watches as the door slowly opens and a young boy steps out.

He frowns before walking ahead, and his eyes almost widen with who he sees.

"Peter, what are you doing here?"

Peter looks up from the book he is currently holding and his eyes widen with fear at the figure who stands before him.

"S - sir, I - I was just - "

A voice from inside the bakery calls out to him. A voice Bucky recognizes all too well.

"Peter, you forgot this."

You step out of the bakery with a textbook in your hands as you hand it over to Peter.

Peter opens his mouth to speak but then closes it. Too afraid about what was going to happen.

You turn around and when your eyes land on James, your lips turn into a grin before you know it.

"James, hi"

Peter's eyebrows shoot up as he looks between the both of you. You have a glint in your eyes as if you couldn't be happier by anything else and the man he had feared with everything he had for the last couple of years, had a softness to his features that made Peter wonder if he was somehow swallowed into an alternate dimension.

"Hey, sweets." Bucky says almost on instinct, before turning towards the boy who is still looking at the both of them as if he just saw a dolphin flying in the air.

You probably notice it too, because you then point towards Peter before saying, "James, this is Peter, and Peter, this is James Barnes."

"James?" Peter says almost on instinct, confusion evident in his voice.

"Wait, you know him?" You ask, looking between the both of them now.

Peter looks at Bucky and almost crumbles with fear by the warning glare he is shooting towards him. But there is something else there too. Something, he can swear he has never seen in the mob boss' eyes.

There is fear in them. A tiny flicker of it. He fears the answer he is going to tell you. Whatever it was, it was too important for him.

"No, no. I don't think we have met before."

"Oh, okay." You say, confused as to what had just happened here. "All the best for the test and tell MJ I said hi," You give him an easy exit from a situation he was clearly uncomfortable in.

You watch as a small blush spreads across his cheeks before he bids you goodbye and glancing at James once, takes his leave.

"He is a nice kid." You break the silence after Peter walks away, out of earshot. "Pretty smart. I was helping him with his test tomorrow."

Bucky looks back at you and shrugs in response. "Good for him."

"By the way, it's closing time, James." You say with a teasing voice and he is relieved that you don't ask any further questions.

"Come on, sweets. You could make an exception for your favorite customer."

You roll your eyes before replying. "What about this? You help me clean up, and I get you something special I made today."

"Help you clean up?"

"Aww. The prince doesn't like to get his hands all dirty?" You smirk.

"This special treat should better be worth it, sweets." He huffs before walking inside the bakery.

You walk in behind him while giggling.

"And that's it."

You look at him with a smile and silently clap your hands together with an impressed look.

If any of his men would see him right now, wearing an apron with a bunny on it, hands covered in flour, working in a bakery with soft music playing in the background, their eyes would pop out of their heads. But he couldn't care less.

"Great job for a first timer, Barnes. You have earned yourself a serving of something special."

Bucky smirked before replying, "Something special, you say?" He leans in and sends a wink your way.

You roll your eyes before turning towards the kitchen, hoping that it wasn't evident how flustered you were.

You take out something from a box and place it on a plate in front of him.

Bucky looked at it closely with a frown. It was clearly made of chocolate and was shaped like a dome. He could swear he had never seen it in your bakery before.

"Come on, give it a try. If I wanted to poison you, I would have done it ages ago."

He picks up one and after a moment of close inspection, takes a bite.

As the taste of chocolate invades his senses, he moans and puts the whole into his mouth.

You watch as his head falls back in delight.

Once he is done, which is faster than he would have wanted, he says, "Sweets, that was the best damn thing I have ever had."

You chuckle, "You say that every single time, James."

"And I mean it every single time."

You just smile at him before putting another on the plate.

As he devours that one quickly too, he inquires, "What is it called?"

You smirk before replying, "James."

"Yeah?"

"James. That's what it is called."

His eyes widen and he takes a moment to reply, "You named a sweet after me?"

"Well, technically, you were the inspiration for this."

He frowns. "How so?"

"Well, It's full of chocolate and exceptionally sweet. It's exterior is hard but its insides are so soft, they practically melt in your mouth."

Bucky looks at you, baffled and you look away, unable to meet his eyes.

He opens his mouth to say something, but is suddenly shushed by you.

"That's my favorite song." You whisper, as if not wanting to obstruct the soft melody.

Bucky listens to the sound coming from your phone.

Wise men say

"Only fools rush in"

But I can't help

Falling in love with you

He looks back at you and at the way you have a soft smile on your face, your features highlighted by the soft glow of the kitchen light.

You look at him and with a teasing smile puts your hand forward, indicating to him to take it.

He looks between your outstretched hand and your face with a frown.

"Dance with me." Your voice is so soft, he just can't get himself to say no. But, who is kidding? He will set the whole world on fire and watch it burn with a smile on his face if you asked him to.

He slowly places his hand in yours as the music continues.

Shall I stay?

Would it be a sin

If I can't help

Falling in love with you

The both of you stand in the middle of the kitchen, the moonlight sweeping its way through the windows.

Everything is brightened in a warm glow but you know nothing will ever shine brighter than the way his ocean blue eyes do right now.

Take my hand

Take my whole life, too

For I can't help

Falling in love with you

One of his arms finds its way around your waist while the other holds yours.

You place your free hand on his shoulder and he gently pulls you closer.

The both of you stay like that for the rest of the song, swaying slowly to the music.

Like a river flows

Surely to the sea

Darling, so it goes

Some things are meant to be

You don't know who leans first but before you know it, the distance between the both of you starts decreasing.

You hold your breath and your gaze move from his eyes to his lips.

You would be lying if you said you had never thought of this before, of how his lips would feel against yours, how he would taste like.

This man had occupied your thoughts since the day you had met all those months ago and you were pretty sure he had no idea of the effect he had on you.

Take my hand

Take my whole life, too

For I can't help

Falling in love with you

For I can't help

Falling in love with you

Just as the song is about to end and there's nothing but an inch of distance between the both of you, the door to the bakery was suddenly pushed open with a force and the sound of the bells invaded the comfortable silence that had covered the room in a blanket.

The both of you took a sudden step away, and you needed a moment to calm your heart which felt like it was about to beat its way out of your chest, before looking up to see who it. was.

You squinted as two men, one blonde and the other dark haired, stood at the door, looking comically too big, having no idea of what transcribed in the bakery before they had not-so-smoothly barged in.

The blonde one speaks, breaking the silence, "I knew we'd find you here."

You watch as he steps towards James, who looks at him with sheer annoyance. "What the hell are you doing here, punk?"

The other man looks at you and forms a smirk before stepping towards you. "So, this is where you always sneak off to? I guess I understand why."

James huffs in annoyance and with a sten face stops him, "Shut up, Wilson."

You look between the men who looked like they were in a staring contest when realization hit you. "Steve and Sam?"

All the men look at you at the same time and you feel like a deer caught in headlights before you stand up straighter reminding yourself that no matter how intimidating the situation was, this was your bakery.

"And you must be y/n l/n. It's great to finally meet you, Ms l/n" Steve says, smiling.

"Please, just call me y/n."

"Or we could call you beautiful." Sam replies before stepping forwards, stretching his hand to take yours for a shake.

You let out a chuckle before shaking his hand. "Y/n is fine."

"What are the both of you doing here?" Bucky speaks up, shooting daggers at Sam, his fists clenched.

"There's an emergency. We need to go." Steve replies, a serious expression adorning his face.

Sam interjects them "What's the hurry? I have heard so much about this bakery. We could eat something before leaving."

Bucky spats at him, "This bakery has closed, Wilson. Time's up. Get your butt moving."

Sam pouts and you chuckle at the antics of these grown men, "Why don't you come here some other day, Sam, I have something that I think you'll like."

Sam looks at you, a childlike smile replacing his pout, "I like her already."

Bucky steps forward towards Sam, pulling him away. "Don't listen to him, sweets."

Steve and Sam turn their head towards him so fast. you are sure they will get a sprain later. Sam raises his brows with a smirk on his face, while Steve looks at him with a smile on his.

James then quickly bids you goodbye before pulling the both of them outside the bakery.

Once they reach the car Steve and Sam had driven in, they both look at him with amused grins.

"Back off, the both of you. What's the emergency?"

Steve's expression turns serious as he replies, "Our shipment from Iran has been stopped at Morocco and they are refusing to comply."

Bucky narrows his eyes at the information. Who would dare to stop their shipment and risk getting on his bad books? "Who is it, Steve?"

"It's Alexander Pierce."

Bucky lets out a breath before looking in the direction of the bakery once more and then turning towards Steve and Sam.

"Get in the car. We need to leave right now. This is going to be a long assignment."

Next part

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whiskygoldwings · 30 days

Text

WHISKY'S FOXY FIC REC LIST

Okay! The promised Fox-centric fics rec list is here WOOOO! I’ve split this into complete and not complete. I did have grand plans about sorting it into genres but uh, that might be for later when I've regained the will to live... I’ve also been recommended a few I haven’t read, so have given those a section of their own. These are FOX-CENTRIC fics. … Mostly. I’ve said where the focus is more on someone else with Fox as more secondary!

THIS IS ALL HUGELY BIASED! I have my personal tastes, and know they don’t fit everyone else’s. Just because a fic isn’t on here doesn’t mean it isn’t good, and just because a fic IS on here doesn’t mean you’ll like it. I also simply haven’t read all the Fox fics out there! I’m trying to, but you folks keep writing new excellent fics and I can’t keep up! Also, I do like to occasionally do other things… Very occasionally…

Within the basic headers, none of these fics are in any particular order. Also, I HAVE ABSOLUTELY MISSED FICS. PLEASE REC ME ANY YOU THINK I HAVE MISSED. I’m intending to update this as I read more, these are just the ones I could remember/find at the moment!

I have included with the link – any ships, tags people may need to be aware of, length and a brief summary. I CLONESHIP. So yes, there's some fics with cloneshipping in here. Honestly, not anywhere near as many as I thought there would be. I have used the pairings as given by the author on the fic, so if I have missed a pairing, that's why. IF YOU THINK I HAVE MISSED SOMETHING PEOPLE NEED TO KNOW, PLEASE TELL ME. I do my best, but I’m very (very) fallible. I’d rather know and be able to fix it than not know and someone be hurt by something. (This literally goes for anything else).

If you have a fic that’s not on here and you think it should be – comment/message/ask!

With the intro over, let’s get into the meat of things!

COMPLETED FICS

Commander Fox’s Ultimate Bucket List – Blackkat

PAIRINGS: Fox/Mace Windu, Padme Amidala/Thorn/Stone, Depa Bilaba/Grey, Agen Kolar/Cody

WORDCOUNT: 27,509

TAGS: AU – Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, Humour, Crack, Seduction, Murder Attempts, OTP: Anakin/Consequences, Romance, Friendship, Let Fox be a little unhinged 2kforever

SUMMARY: Fox has a second chance, a to-do list, a stolen lightsaber, and a complete willingness to give everyone around him grey hairs. Plus a Jedi Master to seduce. It's going to be a ride.

My thoughts: Y’ALL. WELCOME TO RAREPAIR HELL WITH ME. I actually tried to draw fanart for this I loved it so much. It is WONDERFUL. Hilarious. The characterisation of Fox is just brilliant.

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Our Guard (a docu-holo sponsored by the Coruscant Communications Bureau) – FortinbrasFTW

PAIRINGS:NO PAIRINGS

WORDCOUNT: 54,034

TAGS: Various original characters, Comedy, Fix-It, Dead Sheev Palpatine, that what we do in the shadows meets fox accidentally kills his boss au, mockumentary, bail and fox are bros, Crack treated seriously, no ships really in this but kit and fox are def some kind of exes, every clone deserves a droid sidekick

SUMMARY: Nonstop civilian protest duty for over a month, the senate's latest hobby seems to be getting abducted for kicks, and now he had to deal with a camdroid shaped pain-in-the-ass following his every move. The powers that be seemed to think that putting him and the rest of the Guard in some holo was the best way to work up some civilian sympathy. Well, at least there was no way his day could get any worse...

My thoughts: You all thought this list was gonna be just angst didn’t you!?! This is another, just excellent, hilarious Fox fic. Such a brilliant idea, and one I can absolutely imagine happening. Fox is so done, and his interactions with the camdroid are beautiful.

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To Be Free Once More (That’s Worth Fighting For) – Batsutousai

PAIRINGS: Fox/Obi-Wan Kenobi

WORDCOUNT: 154,695

TAGS: AU – Canon divergence, Fix-it, Qui-Gon Jinn Lives, Jedi Shadow Investigator Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jedi culture and tradition, Jedi appreciation, Coruscant Guard Troopers Deserve better, Force-sensitive Clone Troopers, Protective clone troopers, Clone trooper mistreatment, Clone trooper and Jedi relationships, Institutional Abuse, Discrimination, Strangers to friends to lovers, Trans clone troopers, nonbinary clone troopers, Nonbinary Jedi characters, Sheev Palpatine being an asshole, Character death, Palpatine and some Corries die onscreen, Implied/referenced character death, Deaths of original Jedi characters are reference, The young of Melida/Daan, Clone trooper Inhibitor chips, Force-sensitive Fox

SUMMARY: As a Jedi Shadow, Obi-Wan hadn't expected to have much to do with the clone troopers. Until, suddenly, he does.

My thoughts: I uh… I already broke my own rules for this list… Oops! I’m really not sorry for it though… Obi-Wan is the central character in this, with Fox as a secondary character. However the handling of Fox and Obi-Wan’s building relationship, and the way Obi-Wan interacts with the clones/the Corries is wonderful. This is a freaking excellent story. I’m breaking the rules to recommend you something you should ABSOLUTELY read.

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Operation: Don’t Wake The Commander – AlleyMoslof

PAIRINGS: NONE

WORDCOUNT: 7,034

TAGS: Fox needs a hug, Tired Fox, Fox deserves better, These shinies are dedicated, Coruscant Guards, Let Fox sleep, Fix-it, Thorn is Chaos Personified, The Guard has no impulse control, Fox is a good bro, the adoption genes are strong with the Guard, Fox IS the Guard’s impulse control

SUMMARY: “So basically, Commander Thorn ordered you to make sure Commander Fox slept a decent amount and didn’t give you any restrictions as to how to do this.”

The shiny looked up from the ‘pad to smirk at him, “sir, yes, sir.”

My thoughts: Just adorable! This is so sweet! Those Shinies sure are dedicated, and Fox gets a well-deserved nap. *heart*

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And I Did It My Way – Miyaji_08

PAIRINGS: Fox/Quinlan Vos

WORDCOUNT: 23,039

TAGS: Hurt/Comfort, Fox Needs a Hug, Coruscant Guard troopers need hugs, Coruscant Guard troopers get hugs, Coruscant Guard troopers as family, Quinlan Vos needs a hug, Protective Quinlan Vos, Ferus Olin needs a hug, Ferus Olin gets a hug, Quinlan and Fox think they’re in a murder mystery but really it’s a comedy, The best way to get away with crime is to completely forget how and why you did it, Clone troopers and Jedi as found family, Obi-Wan Kenobi needs a drink, Protective clone troopers, Protective Jedi, Coruscant Guard troopers deserve better.

SUMMARY: Commander,” High General Windu says, brows raised in suspicion. “This is the Chancellor’s office holo, is it not? May I speak with him?”

Fox stares at the general, and then down at the black smudge on the floor where Palpatine’s body used to be. Slowly, subtly, he shifts so he’s standing on top of it.

“Uh,” he says. “…No.”

My thoughts: This is angtsy, and wonderful, and Fox is so tired and his characterisation is brilliant.

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Galaxy-Saving Memes – musicmillennia

PAIRINGS: NONE

WORDCOUNT: 3,152

TAGS: Memes, Social media, chatfic, Fix-it, crack, humour, whump, Fox needs a hug, and he GETS one plot twist, they all get one!!, unhealthy coping mechanisms, trauma, reconditioning, mind control.

SUMMARY: You can only access the page if you're GAR. The Coruscant Guard decides to infiltrate it because they are tired of being ignored, and honestly? Their memes are way better.

Or, the Guard saves millions of lives through stupid internet posts.

My thoughts: BRILLIANT. HILARIOUS. The Guard are so nonchalant about the shit they’re dealing with that they turn it into memes. *chefs kiss*

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Their Days are Darker – always_a_slut_for_hc

PAIRINGS: NONE

WORD COUNT: 23419

TAGS: Clone troopers deserve better, hurt/comfort, abuse, Fox needs a hug, Wolffe is a little shit, Whump, AU – canon divergence, Dehumanization, Gaslighting, GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE

SUMMARY: After the death of ARC Trooper Fives, an altercation at 79's leads Wolffe to spend his leave snooping around the Coruscant Guard. Fox assumes he'll drop it and leave the Corries to their fate; it's what everyone else has done.

He is very, very wrong.

My thoughts: One of my all-time favourite Fox whump fics. I have re-read this several times. It does hurt, it is painful, but it does get better. Love it.

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Commander Fox is Completely Fine – Maddy_B

PAIRINGS: Fox/Quinlan Vos

WORD COUNT: 275,029

TAGS: GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE. RAPE/NON-CON. Fox needs a hug, Tired Fox, Fox whump, Coruscant Guards, Slow burn, Dissociation, Panic attacks, Gender dysphoria, Body dysphoria, Dysphoria, Explicit sexual content, Slavery, Implied/referenced rape/non-con, all explicit sexual content in this fic is consensual, Bad parent Jango Fett, Implied/referenced torture, Mild gore, Blood and gore.

SUMMARY: Cody was still staring at him. Fox wasn't sure what made him keep talking.

"It's always the shinies who think they're invincible," he muttered, "who think they're above the rules."

Cody nodded slowly.

"Yeah," he said, voice a little hoarse, "that's usually how I lose them too."

Fox watched as his little brother finished the rest of his drink and stared down into his empty cup.

It wasn't the same, he wanted to say. That's a battlefield, this is the centre of the Republic, it's different. The truth is that it's not as different as it should be.

My thoughts: This is a long haul fic folks, but it is deliciously worth it. The angst/whump is very real. The comfort is also very real. Fox and Quinlan are plonkers who eventually get their acts together. There’s wonderful interactions with Fox and Padma, Bail and Riyo. Wonderful fic.

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Do-Over – TooManyTeeth

PAIRINGS: NONE

WORD COUNT: 109,352

TAGS: CREATOR CHOSE NOT TO USE ARCHIVE WARNINGS. Time travel fix-it, Fox needs a hug, Depression, Suicidal thoughts, Hurt/comfort, Brotherly love, Cuddling and snuggling, Blood and gor, Torture, Palpatine is a giant asshole, Fox gets better I promise, Abuse, The Coruscant Guard collectively need a hug, Fox needs a nap, Non-consensual kissing, Non-consensual touching, Friendship, Medical inaccuracies, Unintentional betrayal, Fox gets a hug

SUMMARY: Fox made a mistake. Fox was punished. Fox died. Fox woke up.

My thoughts: Oh the hurt and angst is very real with this one folks. So is the comfort though. Eventually! An excellent story, painful to read in places, but beautifully done. I’m very excited for the sequel!

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With Nothing to Lose, There’s Everything to Go – Batsutousai

PAIRINGS: NONE

WORD COUNT: 4,706

TAGS: Clone troopers deserve better, Clone trooper-centric, Abusive Sheev Palpatine, Past abuse, Abandonment, Fox needs a hug, Fox gets a hug, Fix-it, Unhealthy coping mechanisms, PTSD, Little bit of hurt/Lots of comfort, Family reunions, Protective siblings

SUMMARY: The end of the war arrived, but nothing changed for the Coruscant Guard.

My thoughts: If you need something to just make you feel a little bit better about the world, give this fic a read. Lovely one-shot. Lots of feels.

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Commander Fox’s Guide to Touring Coruscant – KakashiKrazy256

PAIRINGS: NONE

WORD COUNT: 7,910

TAGS: CREATOR CHOSE NOT TO USE ARCHIVE WARNINGS. Hurt/comfort, Bros being bros, Dialogue heavy, Fox needs a hug, And he’ll get one, Fox’s brothers telling him he matters and he short-circuits, Ponds is alive because I said so, Injury

SUMMARY: The painkiller he had been giving just half an hour prior is still working fine, leaving him relatively...alright. Nothing hurts particularly bad, but there’s a fuzziness layered over everything, making it hard to think too hard on anything beyond the first thoughts running through his head.

Go inside. Find the rest. Sit down. Drink. Don’t say anything stupid. Don’t get caught. And...and just be there to properly enjoy the company of his brothers.

Don’t forget these memories.

Fox gets injured but decides to keep it secret for the sake of his batchmates. For the prompt 'is that a bloodstain?!'

My thoughts: Lovely fic. The interactions between Fox and his brothers are just wonderfully well-written. And Fox’s pain throughout is thoughtfully done.

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Foxhunt – OysterTori

PAIRINGS: Pre-slash Bacara/Fox. Side pairings of: Ponds/Mace Windu, Thorn/Cody, Echo/Fives/Rex, Bly/Aayla Secura

WORD COUNT:14,406

TAGS: Hurt Fox, Fox needs a hug, Coruscant Guard troopers as family, Coruscant Guard and GAR, BAMF Fox, Mind manipulation, Coruscant Guard loves Fox, Protective Coruscant Guard troopers, Sheev Palpatine being an asshole, Palps dies off screen because fuck him, Fox got to murder him as a treat, All clones have a competency kink, Bacara has the biggest though, Fox gets a hug, Trans clone troopers, Clone trooper reconditioning

SUMMARY: Fox has to flee after killing the Chancellor and as the events unfold he gets hunted across Coruscant by CorSec (not something to worry about) and the GAR (something to worry about).

But his Corries have his back, as always. They won't let someone take their ori'vod away from them.

My thoughts: … Honestly I just love that Fox is a BAMF MF and everyone wants him in this! From memory, I think the story actually focuses on other characters a lot more than Fox, but it’s brilliant anyway!

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It’s fine. I’m fine. Everything is fine – cats_and_dr_pepper

PAIRINGS: Depends on which chapters, but Fox/Thorn.

WORD COUNT: 62,395

TAGS: CREATOR CHOSE NOT TO USE ARCHIVE WARNINGS. GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE. Fox needs a hug, Fox whump, Protective Fox, Tired Fox, Fox deserves better, Fox needs a nap, Protective Cody, Cody’s name is Kote, Cody is so smart, Injury, Manipulative Sheev Palpatine, Sheev Palpatine being an asshole, Clone medics are scary, Angst, Whump, Coruscant Guards, Coruscant Guard needs a hug, Self-indulgent, WIP, One-shot collection, Din Djarin cameo, Parental Jaster Mereel, Force ghost Jaster Mereel, Eldritch, Angst and hurt/comfort, Hurt/comfort, Hurt no comfort, Character death, Suicide attempt, grief/mourning, Crack, hijinks and shenanigans, Graphic descriptions of injuries, Order 66

SUMMARY: WIP AND ONESHOT COLLECTION

My thoughts: I could recommend pretty much all of this author’s library, but I’m trying to limit it a little! While this is a collection of one shots, they’re just beautiful. I am particularly fond of Chaps 4 and 6/7. Folks, mind those tags and the chapter specific summaries.

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Trich – cats_and_dr_pepper

PAIRINGS: NONE

WORD COUNT: 1,328

TAGS: Angst, Whump, not too bad though, Trichotillomania, Fox needs a hug, Fox-centric, Fox whump, Sad Fox, Hair-pulling, in the least sexy way, Body focused repetitive disorder

SUMMARY: It was easy. It was easy to do. Any time Fox needed an extra… something to deal with the day on Kamino, he’d pull a hair. Never from the same place, never more than one, but for some reason, it helped. He didn’t quite know how or why, but the little stab of pain, the sound of the pluck through his skull, how sometimes the whole root sheath would slide out—it was something he could do.

On Coruscant, it gets out of control.

My thoughts: Look, I know I LITERALLY JUST SAID I was going to limit myself, but I have to rec this one. It holds a special place in my heart. I’ve had dermatillomania all my life. The two conditions are very related, and this whole fic spoke so much to me. Beautifully done depiction of the condition. My thanks to the author for this.

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Corrie Red – musicmillennia

PAIRINGS: None

WORD COUNT: 24,294

TAGS: GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE. Lovecraftian Monsters, Eldritch Coruscant Guard, Horror, Body horror, Blood, Blood drinking, Gore, Non-linear narrative, Implied/referenced mind control, Manipulation, Angst, Fix-it, Cannibalism, No one is helping the Guard so they help themselves, With their new limbs, The Corries can have a little murder as a treat, Vomiting, Self-harm, Codependency, Temporary character death, Unreliable narrator, Protective Fox, Protective Coruscant Guard

SUMMARY: A Sith opens a Door and keeps it open. Something else slithers through, and it likes the Coruscant Guard. The Coruscant Guard likes it too.

My thoughts: DO YOU LIKE ELDRITCH HORROR!?! Boy have I got the fic for you then!!! Super excellent, wonderful body horror. Very creative, the descriptive language is beautiful. There are several more sidestories and a sequel in the works as well, which I highly recommend. This is the fic that made me love Eldritch Guard!

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But Still, Bless Me Anyway – bitebackbaby

PAIRINGS: NONE

WORDCOUNT: 52,977

TAGS: CREATOR CHOSE NOT TO USE ARCHIVE WARNINGS. AU- Murderbot Diaries fusion, canon-typical violence, Canonical character death, Clone trooper mistreatment, Clone trooper reconditioning, Clone trooper decommissioning, Coruscant Guard troopers-centric, Coruscant Guard VS GAR rivalry, Coruscant Guard troopers deserve better, Coruscant Guard troopers need hugs, Fox whump, Fox deserves better, Fox needs a hug, Eventual happy ending, Angst with a happy ending

SUMMARY: CG-Unit 1010 is functioning at perfectly normal parameters. It obeys orders. Enforces the law. It is not afraid of the Masters that bought it. It does not mourn the Units that fail to measure up to their exacting standards. The Behavioral Chip does not allow such aberrant behaviors.

GAR Units are given many allowances. Fox wonders, sometimes, exactly when they will face the consequences of that.

(aka: built and deployed on coruscant, the cybernetic constructs known as the coruscant guard come face to face with the rest of the galaxy, and begin to notice some discrepancies.)

My thoughts: The utter GENIUS of combining the CG with SecUnits. This is absolutely amazing. It’s not kidding about the eventual happy ending, there’s some grief to come first. YOU SHOULD ABSOLUTELY READ THIS FIC. Even if you know nothing about the Murderbot Diaries. You need not have read the Murderbot Diaries, but just so you know, YOU SHOULD.

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Tachy – postapocalyptic_cryptic

PAIRINGS: NONE WORDCOUNT: 1,806

TAGS: Whump, platonic cuddling, Protective Wolffe, Fox needs a hug, Fox whump, Tachycardia, Panic attacks, Exhaustion, Protective siblings, Order 66 happened differently, Post-war, AU, PTSD, Tired Fox

SUMMARY: “Come on, Fox, head between your knees. You know the drill.” As gently as possible, Wolffe pushes Fox upright and helps him arrange himself in an approximation of the recovery position. He’s gasping and shaking and, now that Wolffe has his hands on him, burning up. “There you go,” Wolffe murmurs, keeping one hand on Fox’s head, carding through his hair, and using the other to comm medbay. “Deep breaths, Fox’ika.”

The war is over, but Fox is far from out of the woods.

My thoughts: Short fic with Fox suffering the aftereffects of everything? Yes pls!

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Finding the Way Back – slotmachines_fearofgod

PAIRINGS: Implied Fox/Quinlan Vos

WORDCOUNT: 7,122

TAGS: CREATOR CHOSE NOT TO USE ARCHIVE WARNINGS. Angst and hurt/comfort, the comfort is minimal, Fox needs a hug, Coruscant-Guard troopers-centric, Protective Fox, Protective Wolffe, Fox needs a nap

SUMMARY: Wolffe stops by the Coruscant Guard complex to pick up some unruly members of the 104th, and tries to reconnect with Fox. Certain things are revealed that set off some warning bells for Fox's batchmates

My thoughts: I love Wolffe and Fox interactions. I headcanon them being close brothers, so it makes me very happy! Wolffe’s not going to let this go Fox…

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I’ve been sent up and I’ve been shot down – always_a_slut_for_hc

PAIRINGS: NONE

WORDCOUNT: 1,919

TAGS: Hurt/comfort, Implied/referenced self-harm, Touch-starved, Imprisonment, Solitary confinement, Fox needs a hug

SUMMARY: After the court martial, they put Fox away.

Just - put him away, up on a shelf like a little toy soldier. He’d laugh, if it wasn’t so fitting. They created him to do a job and he went out and did it and now they were done with him.

My thoughts: I love this fic, and basically all of the Febuwhump 2022 collection. There’s a follow up to this as well. It’s angsty folks, but SO GOOOOOD.

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Up In Our Bedroom (After The War) – lux_arcana

PAIRINGS: Queerplatonic Fox and Thorn

WORDCOUNT: 4,690

TAGS: AU – canon divergence, Dead Sheev Palpatine, Post-war, Autism spectrum, Autistic burnout, PTSD, Fox needs a hug, Fox gets a hug, Stimming, Queerplatonic relationships, Therapy, Jedi culture and tradition, Clone trooper culture, Mind control aftermath and recovery, Emotional hurt/comfort

SUMMARY: In this strange new world that Fox got to live in, he woke up safe, warm, and comfortable. Everything around him was soft, muffled, heavy. He rolled over and moved into an even warmer spot, and stretched out languidly, as cat-like a behavior as he had ever done. Without opening his eyes, he knew exactly where he was. Kamino was not safe, warm, or comfortable. The Guard Barracks, though safe, were not warm, and the only comfort they had was each other. But here -

In the Temple, he was always warm, and he was always safe, and he was almost always comfortable. His bed was soft. It was comfortable. And, as he moved into the spot Thorn had just vacated, it was warm.

“Go back to sleep,” Thorn’s soft voice whispered, and Fox did what he did best; he obeyed.

(Fox, Thorn, and the rest of the Guard, after the war.)

My thoughts: I love this fic. I love the gentleness of it. I love the pain of it. I love the recovery.

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Gar Shuk Meh Kyrayc – MageOfCole

PAIRINGS: NONE

WORDCOUNT: 1,553

TAGS: Sleep deprivation, Exhaustion, Fox needs a hug, Cody is a good bro, Cody is a little shit, Thorn is a good bro, Fox needs sleep, Clone troopers deserve better, Touch-starved Fox, Sheev Palps being an asshole, Clone troopers speak Mando’a, Mandalorian clone troopers, hurt/comfort, whump

SUMMARY: (you're no use dead)

Fox has barely slept in the last month, only enough to function in his tasks; he’s exhausted, and sore, and tired, but he has work to do. It’s his duty to always be there, ready and willing to take orders, but - Prime's tits - he's so tired.

My thoughts: I love fics where Fox’s brothers come in and make him sleep. Short, angtsy fic where Fox gets to take a good, long nap.

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Reset Restart Repeat Repose – KairaKara101

PAIRINGS: NONE

WORDCOUNT: 15,641

TAGS: CREATOR CHOSE NOT TO USE ARCHIVE WARNINGS. Fox needs a hug, Protective Fox, Tired Fox, Fox whump, Coruscant Guard troopers as family, Coruscant Guard troopers-centric, Protective CG, hurt/comfort, Emotional hurt/comfort, Angst, CG troopers deserve better, CG troopers need hugs, Manipulative Sheev Palps, Clone trooper reconditioning, Clone trooper decommissioning, Mind Manipulation, Clone trooper inhibitor chips, Clone trooper mistreatment, Clone troopers speak Mando’a, Isolation, Amputation, Mental instability, Mental breakdown, Mental anguish, Identity issues, Loss of identity

SUMMARY: CC-1010 held a secret that none of his current batchmates, squad mates, guard vode, and vode knew about. He’d rather take that secret to his death and beyond.

My thoughts: A really interesting look at Fox having to continually reset himself. The whump is fierce with this one.

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No One Worth Remembering – RMWrites

PAIRINGS: NONE

WORDCOUNT: 1,709

TAGS: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH. AU, Lies, Posing as someone else, Implied/referenced character death, Manipulative Sheev Palps, Thorn and Pals are in the background, Order 66 didn’t happen, Fox deserved better, Hurt no comfort, Angst, The happy ending is only for some people, Fox needs a hug, Implied/referenced suicide

SUMMARY: Fox the Original, as he called him, had gone MIA on a mission for the Chancellor a year and a half into the war. To keep the pretense of normalcy- for losing a Marshal Commander on the “safe” posting of Coruscant would cause far too much public panic- the replacement Commander had donned the painted armor of the late Fox, took up his name and number, and studied the plethora of reports left behind to mimic his voice.

He was Commander CC-1010 "Fox"- the ninth to hold that name.

My thoughts: I LOVE this idea and I love this fic. This idea is just fantastic, and I highly recommend you go read it!

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The Guard Are (Not) Fine – redhairedmuses

PAIRINGS: Fox/Quinlan, Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi, Bly/Aayla Secura

WORDCOUNT: 14,419

TAGS: GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE. Heavy angst, Angst, Angst and tragedy, Angst and hurt/comfort, Implied/referenced torture, Implied/referenced abuse, canon-typical violence, Mental breakdown, Fox whump, Fox needs a hug, Protective Fox, Fox is a good liar, Alcohol, Protective Cody, Minor character death, Creepy/manipulative Sheev Palps, Dissociation, Fox has issue, and he blatantly ignores them.

SUMMARY: In his service to the Coruscant Guard, Fox had learned to become a very good liar. Some would argue one of the best.

But how long can he keep lying to himself?

aka. the corrie guard deal with a lot of shit on coruscant and no one really does anything about it.

My thoughts: Yeah, we all know I love a good bit of Corrie angst. Here’s a delicious one.

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CHTHONIC – catboydogma

PAIRINGS: Fox/Quinlan Vos

WORDCOUNT: 17,062

TAGS: GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE. Meet ugly, Getting together, Let Fox say FUCK, Anti-clone prejudice, Fluff, Angst, Whump, Emotional hurt/comfort, hurt/comfort, Canon-typical violence, Gore, Corpses, Mind control, Mind control aftermath and recovery, Enemies to co-workers to lovers, Worldbuilding, Planet Coruscant, CG, Coruscant Underworld, Coruscant’s Haunted, Horror elements, Falling in love, Fix-it, AU – canon divergence, Order 66 didn’t happen, Past torture, Referenced decommissioning

SUMMARY: Not even two days later, Fox revised his opinion. This wasn’t a disaster. This was a Grade-A, first order, fresh off the hot plate fuckfest. Fox’s day had gone something like this: lay in bed. Get up. Knock back some of the sludge in the mess masquerading as caf. Go through forms. Fill out forms. Bust open a closet in which the Senators for Uyter and Kinyen had both managed to get “stuck” in. Go through more forms. Fill out more forms. Get called up to the Senate dome to tell a Senator that no, the Guard did not address noise complaints. Find that the stack of datapads on his desk had somehow tripled over the last two hours. Despair at the state of his inbox. Etcetera, etcetera. And then.

My thoughts: YEEEEES DEEEELIIIICIOUS!

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Red Like My Dreams – Quarra

PAIRINGS: Fox/murder

WORDCOUNT: 8,637

TAGS: GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE, AU – canon divergence, Blood and gore, Serial killer!Fox, Attempted murder, So much attempted murder, Murder, Unhinged!Fox, Fix-it of sorts, Fives lives, Sith flirting, Happy ending, Humour, Unhealthy relationships, Unhealthy coping mechanisms, Torture, Crack treated seriously

SUMMARY: Fox wants to murder his boss so badly that he can taste it. The problem is that fucking Sheev is a difficult person to kill. That’s fine. Fox is a stubborn bastard. He can follow his heart and achieve his dreams. He just has to work at it.

or,

The one where (nearly) everyone is worried and Fox is (more than a little bit) unhinged.

My thoughts: UNHINGED FOX GETTING HIM SOME SITH-DAMNED MURDER. *chef’s kiss*

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Commander Fox’s Rules for Shinies – sleebyama

PAIRINGS: NONE

WORDCOUNT: 3,736

TAGS: GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE, MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH. Brothers, Brotherly bonding, Fox is a good bro, Ori’vod Fox, CG Dogma, Implied/referenced rape/non-con, Implied/referenced character death, Implied/referenced Abuse, Fluff and angst, Fox needs a hug, Clone trooper decommissioning

SUMMARY: Shinies are always the first to laugh at his rules.

Those who laugh are usually the ones that learn the hardest lessons.

My thoughts: Hey folks, do you like those fanon headcanons about the abused Guard? Do you like Corrie Dogma, OC shinies, and Fox adopting the shit out of people? HAVE I GOT A STORY FOR YOU!

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Don’t Ever Utter Those Words Again, I’m Begging You – Mamuzzy

PAIRINGS: Fox/Thorn

WORDCOUNT: 982

TAGS: Hurt/comfort, Injury recovery, Established relationship, Married couple, Riduurok/Mandalorian marriage traditions, Anxiety, Overprotective Fox, Cloneshipping, Whump, Crying, Art included

SUMMARY: Thorn was injured in one of his mission on Coruscant and Fox feels guilty about it.

My thoughts: Oh Thorn is so wonderfully sweet and honest! Also, THE ART! I love it so much!

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Full Body High – menphina

PAIRINGS: NONE

WORDCOUNT: 6,231

TAGS: Angst, Hurt/comfort, Angst with a happy ending, Trans clone troopers, Trans Fox, Trans female character, Fox needs a hug, Fox gets a hug, Internalized transphobia, Implied/referenced transphobia, Gender dysphoria, Panic attacks, Clone trooper dehumanization, Fox deserves better, Protective Fox, Order 66 didn’t happen, Clone trooper decommissioning.

SUMMARY: Fox looks in the mirror as he washes his hands, and there’s a lurch deep in his gut.

He doesn’t know why.

It’s his own face staring back at him, hair regulation-short, a bit of scruff around his jaw, a few grizzly scars. He runs his hand across his chin. It feels like someone else’s.

He looks away.

My thoughts: I love this fic. I love how gently Cody handles things when the command batch realise what’s happening. I subscribe heavily to the likelihood that there are trans/non-binary clones, and they deserve to have their stories heard.

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In Lieu of Flowers – kakashikrazy256

PAIRINGS: NONE

WORDCOUNT: 7,418

TAGS: CREATOR CHOSE NOT TO USE ARCHIVE WARNINGS. Angst, Hurt/comfort, hugs, Wolffe needs a hug, Fox needs a hug, PTSD, Malevolence arc, bad treatment of clones

SUMMARY: “We asked for funds. It wasn’t a lot. Just, just enough for a salvage mission. To get the bodies of some vode back. Or a memorial announcement, at the very least something.”

“The General got a response yesterday, from the Senate. They...they said it wasn’t in the budget. Fox, I—I’ve always known but to...to read it...we’re fucking expendable. We always have and always will be.”

Fox knows. He knows because he had been the one to draft the response and send it to Plo Koon yesterday morning.

After the destruction of Plo Koon's fleet to the Malevolence. Wolffe and the rest of the survivors are sent to Coruscant to determine their fate. Fox is there to pick up the pieces of his brother.

My thoughts: Hey folks? This one HURTS. It’s brilliant, but it’s painful.

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A Taste of Freedom (Only Makes it Hurt All The More) – MagicalStardust

PAIRINGS: NONE

WORDCOUNT: 2,104

TAGS: Fluff and angst, starts off peaceful and then the agonies start, mentions of abuse, Fox-centric

SUMMARY: Fox gets some rare time off-world and realises how good life can be, that maybe he's meant for something other than dying in an alleyway in the depths of Coruscant.

Of course, his freedom must come to an end.

My thoughts: This is so sweet, and then so painful…

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Learning Solitude – here_be_bec

PAIRINGS: NONE

WORDCOUNT: 4,088

TAGS: Fox whump, Emotional/Psychological abuse, Physical abuse, Fox needs a hug, Manipulative Sheev Palps, Hurt no comfort, Abuse of authority, Isolation

SUMMARY: It's a gradual, insidious thing, Fox's absorption into the Chancellor's office. The Chancellor wants a clone commander of his own, so he gets one. All Fox gets is a position far away from his brothers, a lesson in how to work around natborns who detest his very existence, and a seemingly endless list of monotonous jobs to keep him occupied through all his waking hours and beyond.

Fox misses Kamino.

My thoughts: OH THIS ONE HURTS SO GOOD. It’s brutal, it’s ruthless. It poses the question of what if Fox was isolated from the CG the way the CG is fanon isolated from the GAR and it answers it in such a cruel, wonderful way. Take the hurt no comfort seriously though folks.

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Our Deepest Condolences – Hasta_la_vista_byebye

PAIRINGS: NONE

WORDCOUNT: 1,343

TAGS: AU – Everyone lives/Nobody dies, Mace Windu is so done, POV Fox, POV Mace Windu, A full on Corrie Guard fic with no hurt at all, Non-binary Fox, Fix-it, Crack, ALL THE CRACK, Palps gets eaten by a Zillo beast

SUMMARY:After the Chancellor's death, tragically eaten by the Zillo Beast, the grieving Republic holds a funeral ceremony in honor of their regretted leader.

But not everybody attending is in the mood for mourning. In fact, the Coruscant Guard feels pretty great.

My thoughts: LET’S BRING BACK THE CRACK! Hilarious. Love it. Mace wants to put his head in his hands and laugh. A little humour after all the previous recs angst!!!

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A Flint and a Fire – Meshurkaan

PAIRINGS: Fox/Rex, Jesse/Kix, one-sided Rex/Fives

TAGS: Training on Kamino, friends to lovers, First kiss, First time, Canon-typical violence, Post-first battle of Geonosis, Canon temporary character death, Clone trooper inhibitor chips, Cloneshipping, Fix-it, Everybody lives, endgame Fox/Rex/Fives but that is later in the series, POV Rex, Not canon-compliant: The Bad Batch, A little bit of Mando’a, Drinking games, Clone trooper shenanigans, Drunken shenanigans, Fox’s bad taste in holodrams, Some angst

SUMMARY:Rex was engineered to be a perfect soldier, yet no amount of training could have prepared him for what he’d face on the battlefield (and off of it).

My thoughts: Oh look! I’m breaking my own rules again!!! The main POV in this is Rex, but Fox features heavily and HOLY SHIT YOU GUYS JUST GO FREAKING READ THIS FIC. I can’t WAIT for the endgame Fox/Rex/Fives!!! This is all SO DELICIOUS!

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All Of Life Is But a Game (And I’m Winning) – rook (jsunday)

PAIRINGS: NONE

WORDCOUNT: 16,582

TAGS: Coruscant Guard, Clone troopers deserve better, Clone troopers need hugs, Engineers, And that is a WARNING.

SUMMARY: It had started, as these things tended to do, with a bad idea at 79's. When it came to the telling, there were as many variations of who was there as there were batches on Kamino, but most clones generally agreed on a core group: Quorum, an engineer with the 212th, with ideas bigger than the GAR budget allowed; Harris, logistics officer in the Coruscant Guard, who had more contacts than the city planet had levels; and Ponds, commander of the 91st, who had never met a bad idea he couldn't make worse, and held the power to sign forms permitting it.

In which an idea is had, and two million clones run with it. So much bangcorn is eaten.

My thoughts: Look, maybe Fox isn’t the ONLY focus in this one, but he plays a starring role damnit!!! And there’s an EXCELLENT follow up which focuses on him and the Guard! This is wonderful, humorous, and the clones basically create themselves secret sports festivals and art galleries. Somehow, this will save the Galaxy… IT’S AMAZING.

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Blame – Jaigeye

PAIRINGS: NONE

WORDCOUNT: 862

TAGS: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH. Canonical character death, Grief/mourning, Whump/Angst, Character study, Introspection, Tragedy, Fox thinks about his choices, Clone trooper Culture

Summary: Thorn is dead. Fox isn't- at least not yet.

My thoughts: This hurts, in a dark, hopeless way. This and it’s follow-up fic are just excellent. Really well-written. Highly recommend.

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Category 5 Shitstorm – cats_and_dr_pepper

PAIRINGS: Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi

WORDCOUNT: 6,987

TAGS: Hijinks and shenanigans, Crack, Fox needs a nap, He technically gets one, Fox is so done, Mace Windu is so done, Fox and Thorn are not romantically together, it’s all a joke on Thorn’s part, Fake marriage, Grizzer is a good girl

SUMMARY: Fox clutched his cup of caf desperately in his gloveless hand. He still didn’t know where his vambrace was. Someone (Stone? Unclear.) was wearing his armor, and whoever it was didn’t have his vambrace comm either. He took a loud, slurping sip, and spat it back out immediately, directly back into the cup. Was this decaf? Disgusting. His day was getting worse.

“How,” he said, looking at each of the vagrants in front of him, “the fuck did this happen?”

My thoughts: OKAY. A THIRD ONE. I’M SORRY. But a, I promised I’d rec this one, and b, IT’S HILARIOUS Y’ALL. GO FREAKING READ IT.

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The Graveyarder – Trixree

PAIRINGS: NONE

WORDCOUNT: 10,697

TAGS: GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE. CG Dogma, CG centric, Post-Umbara Arc, Clone trooper reconditioning, Psychologicial horror, Psychological trauma, Memory loss, Sith are Eldritch horrors change my mind, Eventual happy ending, Canon-typical violence

SUMMARY: They call them the graveyarders.

They shuffle off of the transport, armor scrubbed shiny white and new, brains scrubbed just as clean. They move aimlessly, startle when spoken to, and don’t answer to any name other than trooper. They are the dead walking, coming back from the grave, and they aren’t the vod they were.

My thoughts: This fic is just excellent. I love it so much.

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“May Those Who Defy Their Fate- - independent_variables

PAIRINGS: NONE

WORDCOUNT: 4,276

TAGS: Dialogue heavy, canonical character death, Angst with a happy ending, Guilt, Fix-It of sorts, Brotherhood

SUMMARY: Three days after Fives died, Kote visited Fox.

***

―be granted glory.”

My thoughts: Excellent, short but sweet.

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Sacrifice – cats_and_dr_pepper

PAIRINGS: NONE

WORDCOUNT: 10,050

TAGS: GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE. Character death, Suicidal actions, Angst, Whump, Grief/mourning, Hurt no comfort, Clone trooper inhibitor chips, Mind control, Mind control aftermath and recovery, Unwilling sacrifice, Fox kills Palps, Manipulative Pals, Pals being an asshole, Protective Cody, Suicide attempt, Fox knows he’s going to die and damn it he’s going to get what he wants, Plo Koon is doing his best, Thire where did you get that slugthrower, Order 66, Order 66 Fix-it, End-of-life care, Vokara Che is so done

SUMMARY: Fox heard running footsteps from outside the office, getting closer and closer. He listened to the buzzing hum of several lightsabers and plastoid shuffling. There was a small army of Jedi and GAR outside the door, and Fox knew what he and his brothers would be used for.

Meat shields if they were lucky, executioners if they weren’t—and given that they still had their minds, he suspected it would be the latter.

“How could this happen…” Fox watched Kenobi whisper. “How could we forget?” .

“Ah, but letting them kill themselves would be too easy. It’s annoying when my little toys break themselves too early. Though, it is fun when it’s on my orders.” No, no, please, no. “Commanders, execute Order 66.”

Or, it's difficult when you realize that your actions have consequences. Permanent ones.

My thoughts: Folks, the tags are NOT MESSING AROUND. This is dark, and it’s painful. It’s also, fucking excellent. And something I could absolutely imagine Palps doing. You should read it.

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The Cadaver Remains – menphina

PAIRINGS: NONE

WORDCOUNT: 1,622

TAGS: Suicidal thoughts, Suicidal ideation, Depression, Angst, Heavy angst, Hurt/comfort, Fox needs a hug, Fox gets a hug, Fox needs therapy, (Fox does not get therapy)

SUMMARY: Fox was fine, most days. He went on patrols, chipped away at the mountain of datawork in his office, delicately soothed the egos of ruffled Senators. (Helped the medics forge decommissioning certificates. Went on missions for the Chancellor that left him shaking apart in the sonic.)

And on the days that Fox wasn’t fine, they had a system.

My thoughts: The Corries support their Fox. Especially when he’s breaking at the seams.

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If Somebody Loved You They’d Tell You By Now – weareallstardustfallen

PAIRINGS: NONE

WORDCOUNT: 3,305

TAGS: Hurt/comfort, Angst, Abuse, As usual Fox is having a very bad day, sibling relationships, hurt Fox

SUMMARY: Thorn hesitated. Fox gave him a narrow-eyed squint, waiting for him to spit it out.

“Also Commander Wolffe’s here,” Thorn said, purposely casual.

Fox sighed. “Here, picking his problems up from the tank, or here, he wants something?”

“Here, he got his boys out already and he’s still waiting around,” Thorn said apologetically, and then with an amused tilt of the head, “We told him you were busy and he said he’d wait until you were done working.”

Fox snorted. Fox, just like Thorn and the other Guard commanders, was never actually done working.

Or: Fox is maybe not okay, and Wolffe is maybe not okay with that.

My thoughts: The series for this is brilliant. Again, I love Wolffe and Fox interactions. Especially when Wolffe sticks his stubborn little heels in and refuses to give up on Fox.

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I’ll Take My Heart Clean Apart (If It Helps Yours Beat) – shadowhuntingdauntlessdemigod

PAIRINGS: NONE

WORDCOUNT: 12,050

TAGS: Episode s03e10 Heroes on Both Sides, Angst, Hurt/comfort, Blood and injury, Mental menipulation, Poisoning, Hopeful ending, Brotherhood, Family, Clone trooper-centric, Clone troopers deserve better, Clone trooper dehumanization, Nightmares, Hallucinations, Fox needs a hug, Protective Fox, Protective CG, Fox is the best big brother, But he needs to take better care of himself let’s be honest, Fox whump

SUMMARY: Fox tried to not think about the destruction that was waiting for him, or how the medical team was having trouble triaging all the injured clones and civilians, or how the Coruscant Security Force was as usual almost no help because, after all, this had been a Senate bombing and outside of their jurisdiction, or how— How the whole thing was Fox’s fault. If he just hadn’t let those cleaning droids in, they could’ve avoided the whole thing. ... “I just—I don’t know how—“ Thorn blew out a frustrated breath. Fox cracked his eyes open and saw him shaking his head to himself. Thorn's fingers were curled around Fox's armor. “One day you’ll see that taking care of yourself takes care of us, too.” ... In which everyone blames Fox for the Senate bombings. Everyone except his brothers, who, almost frustratingly so, keep trying to convince him otherwise.

My thoughts: I can just imagine fox eating himself alive over the results of this episode. Loved this.

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Mindless Shadows and Puppet Strings – WitchDetective

PAIRINGS: NONE

WORDCOUNT: 7,886

TAGS: CREATOR CHOSE NOT TO USE ARCHIVE WARNINGS. Fox needs a hug, Fox needs a nap, Tired Fox, Fox is not okay, Palps being an asshole, Manipulative Palps, Clone troopers speak Mando’a, Clone troopers deserve better, Ep s06e04 Orders, Overworked Fox, Heavy angst, Canonical character death

SUMMARY: Fox has been miserable since the start of the Clone Wars, but he at least thought that his life couldn't get any worse.

He was sadly proven wrong when a blackout caused him to have possibly the worst night of his life; one where he made a grave mistake that he will not be able to fix no matter how hard he wished he could.

This time, even his Corries might not be able to stop him from spiraling.

My thoughts: Fox aaaaangst. I love it. Not gonna lie. It gives me LIFE.

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Redemption Inside The Grave – kakashikrazy256

PAIRINGS: NONE

WORDCOUNT: 1,821

TAGS: CREATOR CHOSE NOT TO USE ARCHIVE WARNINGS. (YOU’VE BEEN FUCKING WARNED BY THAT BTW). Post-Scipio, Fox needs a hug

SUMMARY: Fox and Thorn have a conversation after the mission on Scipio.

My thoughts: I re-read this quickly because I was having trouble remembering what it was about and Y’ALL. I cried. This is heart-breaking.

------

AND AFTER ALL THAT!

UNFINISHED FICS/WIPS

Life During Wartime – Chermit

PAIRINGS: NONE

WORDCOUNT: 63,750 9/? chapters

TAGS: GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE. AU – canon divergence, Fix-it, Angst with a happy ending, Hurt/comfort, Suspense, Murder mystery, Mind control, Memory loss, Implied/referenced suicide, Cognitive dissonance, Clone trooper inhibitor chips, Fox needs a hug, The Corrie Guard is Freudian slip central, and Fox is the doublethink KING, Post-episode s6e4 Orders, Sporadic updates

Summary: Commander Fox has a lot on his plate: managing his Corries, filling out piles of forms, dealing with obnoxious Senators, and not thinking about the way he keeps waking up covered in other people's blood. All that considered, he really doesn't have time to deal with being investigated by the Captain of the 501st and the Head of the Jedi Order for two separate murders he (probably) didn't (want to) commit. But Fox is a soldier, and good soldiers follow orders, so when does he ever get what he wants?

My thoughts: I wish to make this fic into candy and eat it. OMNOMNOM. Brilliant. Will sit on the edge of my seat waiting for more. Deeeeliiiiccciiious

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The Last Reason – Meerlicht

PAIRINGS: Fox/Quinlan Vos

WORDCOUNT: 89,170 13/? chapters

TAGS: GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE. Fox needs a hug, Mind control, Suicidal thoughts, Implied/referenced abuse, Minor character death, Platonic relationships, Fox is an unreliable narrator, Alcohol abuse/alcoholism, Dissociation, Panic attacks, Body dysphoria, It gets worse before it gets better, Miscommunication, Rated M for violence, Slow updates, Platonic cuddling

SUMMARY: Cody has a scar now, and it’s the only thing that differentiates him from Fox appearance-wise. For one, they both have the same circles under their eyes. Fox assumes that’s what comes with being a Commander. Their hands are the same, too, damaged and bruised at all times.

But the biggest difference Fox sees when he looks at Cody isn’t the scar. It’s the rage. Cody doesn’t wear that same rage.

Fox’s hands ache with the need to punch something.

Or: Fox dealing with Senators, little brothers, the terrifying ordeal of asking for help and a menace called Quinlan Vos.

My thoughts: Oh this is beautiful. And so, so painful. This is very much angst focused in the beginning, and it’s not afraid to show the worst side of things. Brilliant fic.

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And I Turned ‘Round and There You Were – never_going_home

PAIRINGS: NONE

WORDCOUNT: 3,666 2/5 chapters

TAGS: CREATOR CHOSE NOT TO USE ARCHIVE WARNINGS. Fox needs a hug, CG deserve better, CG VS GAR rivalry, Implied/referenced sexual assault, Implied/referenced animal death, Fox-centric, Fox whump, Fox has anxiety, Trans Bly, Angst, Angst with a happy ending

SUMMARY: Fox wakes up face-down in a pile of flimsi with his hair in his mouth. This in itself is not particularly unusual, because he’s been sleeping at his desk for the last—five months? Six months? He doesn’t care enough to recall. Whatever. Point is, it’s been a long fucking time since he’s bothered to drag himself into his bunk. His steel desk chair is comfortable enough to while away the four hours he has between finishing paperwork and starting his first shift.

(This is a lie so fucking big it beggars belief. Fox’s steel desk chair is the stuff of children’s nightmares and one day, if the war ever ends—if he lives that long—he’s going to take a great amount of pleasure in attaching several detonators to it and throwing it in the ornamental lake of the Supreme Chancellor.)

Fox hasn't been doing well. His batch notices (eventually).

My thoughts: Really enjoying this fic. All the delicious angsty-ness I hope for from Fox whump!

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Why Not’s and How To’s – Trixree

PAIRINGS: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Darth Maul, Fox/Obi-Wan Kenobi, Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Clone trooper characters

WORDCOUNT: 68,091 11/17 chapters

TAGS: Legally Blonde Jedi AU, Lawyer Obi-Wan, Clone trooper angst, Clone trooper emancipation, Clone trooper-centric, Darth Maul redemption, Polyamorous character, Open marriage, Protective Obi-Wan Kenobi, Flashback heavy, Obi-Wan Kenobi is not a Jedi, Anakin Skywalker is not a Jedi, Angst and hurt/comfort.

SUMMARY: Two months after the Guard officially moves to Coruscant, the lawyer shows up.

In which Obi-Wan Kenobi never returns to the Jedi order after the war on Melidaa/Dann and instead finds another way to follow the Force's will. Namely, by fighting sentient-rights abuses all over the galaxy and emancipating the Grand Army of the Republic, one clone trooper at a time.

My thoughts: Fox-centric I said… Okay, but hear me out! The POV changes regularly in this, and Fox is absolutely one of the POVs! It’s sexy, and fun, and I’m not gonna lie, I love it! If Obi-Wan’s not your thing, probably better to steer away!

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Unexplain the Unforgivable – always_a_slut_for_hc

PAIRINGS: NONE

WORDCOUNT: 22,556 14/15 chapters

TAGS: GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE, MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH. Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Imprisonment, Coercion, Mind control, Torture, Dehumanization, Clone troopers deserve better, Fox whump, AU – canon divergence, The Fives incident, Clone trooper reconditioning

SUMMARY: Fox shoots - Fives lives. The commanders of the Coruscant Guard are arrested and taken into custody by Captain Rex and the rest of Torrent Company.

Something is rotten in Coruscant, and Rex thinks it's Commander Fox's heart.

My thoughts: Fuuuuck. This is another, just excellent fic. What if Rex did arrest Fox after he shot Fives? I don’t think Palps would like that very much, DO YOU???

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My Star in the Sky – Gravitymay

PAIRINGS: NONE

WORDCOUNT: 29,980 8/? chapters

TAGS: CREATOR CHOSE NOT TO USE ARCHIVE WARNINGS. Hurt/comfort, Misunderstandings, Blood and injury, Whump, Protective Alpha-17, Fox needs a hug, Sheev Palpatine being an asshole, Medical procedures, Fluff and angst, Minimal fluff, maximum angst, Planet Kamino, Fix-it of sorts, Anxiety

SUMMARY: commander cody, through careful investigation, uncovers disturbing information about the coruscant guard. he takes it to one of the few men he trusts to do something about it - alpha-17.

cody's trust is well placed, and what alpha finds is worse than either of them imagined.

My thoughts: This is mainly from Alpha-17s perspective, but I have been thoroughly enjoying this so far. It’s another painful, angsty one (it is my leaning, sorry!).

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For your Protection – cats_and_dr_pepper

PAIRINGS: Fox/Thorn

WORDCOUNT: 30,253 6/?

TAGS: CREATOR CHOSE NOT TO USE ARCHIVE WARNINGS. Beskar, Mandalorian culture, CG trooper-centric, CG troopers as family, BAMF Fox, Clone trooper inhibitor chips, Fix-it, Everyone is sassy, Everyone is gay, Angst, Whump, Eventual happy ending, Anxiety typical of an overworked soldier in the military, It’s not paranoia if they’re really out to get you, Sleep deprivation, Din’s covert lands on Coruscant, Military lingo, Food issues, Planet Aq Vetina, Chatlogs

SUMMARY:Mando’ade were personally offended by their existence on all fronts, and it didn’t matter what faction. Kyr’tsad hated Jango, the Haat Mando’ade hated what the clones meant for them, and the New Mandalorians hated war and all its pieces. The last thing Fox needed was another shipment of empty, bloody plastoid delivered to the bricks.

There really was no telling which one sent the package.

A whole squad.

Gone.

Fox hoped they were dead. Anything else was too painful to think about.

Or; Fox finds a huge cache of beskar. The potential ramifications of this do not escape him. And then a new faction of Mandalorians arrives on Coruscant. Fox decides he's too tired to deal with this shit anymore.

My thoughts: SO. FREAKING. GOOD. Yes. Excellent idea. Love it.

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OTHER PEOPLE’S RECS I HAVEN’T YET READ (BUT WILL NOW BE DOING LOL!)

But Oh, Don’t You Know How It Goes (We Are All Walking Each Other Home) – Anonymous

PAIRINGS: NONE

WORDCOUNT: 108,245

TAGS: CREATOR CHOSE NOT TO USE ARCHIVE WARNINGS. Cyborg Cody, Emperor Cody, Dark Cody, But there’s some nice bits too!, Brainwashing, Clone trooper inhibitor chips, Non-consensual body modification, but also consensual body modification, Medical procedures, Cybernetics, Mind manipulation, Running an empire is a lot of work guys, Medical experimentation

SUMMARY: After the highly public and highly violent execution of Emperor Palpatine, the Sith Empire is under new management. It doesn't make much difference to Fox whether the Emperor is an evil murdering Sith Lord or an evil murdering cyborg, but as Fox accompanies the Emperor throughout the early days of the new Empire, he realizes there's something--or someone--strange hiding under that faceless armor.

Someone hauntingly familiar.

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Dead Dog (Bye-Bye Baby Blue) – batchmates

PAIRINGS: Background Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi

WORDCOUNT: 48,875 4/? chapters

TAGS: CREATOR CHOSE NOT TO USE ARCHIVE WARNINGS. GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE. Angst, War, Politics, Conspiracy, Brainwashing, Manipulation, Graphic violence, Force-sensitive Fox, Mandalorian clone troopers, Canonical character death, Implied/referenced sexual assault, POV multiple, Additional warnings in author’s note, Dark, Dialogue heavy

SUMMARY: The way it happens is simple: at some point during your service in the Guard, you’ll lose time.

The thing wiping the Guards’ memories gets sloppy and Fox remembers the order not to let Fives leave the surface alive. It changes everything and nothing at all.

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Twilight on Owl Creek Bridge – yellow_caballero

PAIRINGS: NONE

WORDCOUNT: 33,048

TAGS: Time travel, Fox snaps like a rubber band, Fox and Leia have become unstuck in time, Fascism: good or bad? And other moral questions, The mortifying ordeal of working retail under totalitarianism.

SUMMARY: SUBJECT: Regarding Senate Guard Objectives For Today

This is a polite reminder to all guardsmen that patrol schedules for the Senate vote ratifying dictatorships are posted in the breakroom. I am also issuing a warning to linear time that days should follow sequentially and are not intended to repeat. Please cease repeating. I am getting a headache.

Additionally, I'd like to remind all guardsmen that it is illegal to harbor invisible women in the Senate. If you see a ghost claiming to be Leia Organa, please remove her from the premises. She will be making a scene.

Thank you for your cooperation in preserving the peace of the Republic, and all hail the Empire. FOX

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Invictus – Airlock_Failure

PAIRINGS: Riyo Chuchi/Fox, Embree Spicer/Dawn, Talon/Malice

WORDCOUNT: 118,993

TAGS: GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE, MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH. Hurt/comfort, Slavery, Torture, Suicidal thoughts, Suicide attempt, Clone trooper decommissioning, blood and injury, Amputation, Drug use, Sleep deprivation, Political unrest, Near death experiences, Chronic illness, Injury-recovery, Force-sensitive Fox, Force-sensitive Slick, Asexual Fox, Fox needs a hug, Fox needs a nap, Workplace violence, Violence, Espionage, Clone trooper inhibitor chips, Clone troopers deserve better, Clone trooper relationships, Clone trooper emancipation, Clone trooper medics, Cloneshipping, Implied/referenced child abuse, Implied/refered rape/non-con, Implied/reference abuse, Panic attacks, Anxiety attacks, AU – canon divergence, Minor character death, Implied/Refered character death, Kidnapping, Vaginal sex, Anal sex, Unprotected sex, Angst, Fluff

SUMMARY: The most decorated soldier of the Grand Army of the Republic doesn't care about awards or medals. Commander Fox cares about keeping his soldiers operating at peak performance. He cares about keeping the civilians of Coruscant safe from anti-Republic attacks (even if those same citizens spit in his direction on the street). Above all else, Commander Fox cares about his men, their well-being, and keeping them safe from a predatory system designed to churn them up and spit out their carcasses.

He can manage. He's fine. Really, he's great.

Except he can't stop dreaming about Kamino. And he can't help but feel like he's drowning.

SEVERAL PEOPLE RECOMMENDED INVICTUS. I can’t believe I’ve never read it somehow!!!

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Corrie Red Taints Your Soul – Lia_ka2020ad

PAIRINGS: Fox/Thire, Thorn/OFC, Fox/Wolffe

WORDCOUNT:205,891 62/80 chapters

TAGS: GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE, MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, RAPE/NON-CON. Fluff and angst, Hurt/comfort, Smut, Pain, PTSD, Everyone is mentally ill, Malevolence Arc, Fox needs a hug, Fox gets a hug, Fox is a little shit, Fox deserves better, Implied/referenced sexual assault, Suicide attempt, Dead Dove: Do not eat, Substance Abuse, Clonecest, Palps being an asshole, I ship everyone, Clone trooper decommissioning, Clone sex, Clone trooper culture, Clone trooper speak Mando’a, Mando’a language, Childhood memories, Clone trooper training on Kamino, Politics

SUMMARY: Fox exists, awesome. He has brothers that he loves and even unlimited access to drugs, even better. Work is still shit though, and his mind constantly tries to murder him. Luckily his brothers are annoying bastards doing everything to keep him alive, and maybe he can even find a way to silence the voices. And to figure out how in all nine Corellian hells he is supposed to serve the Republic when it's drifting more towards Authoritarianism every day.

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A Secret Third Thing - Apollotaire

PAIRINGS: NONE

WORDCOUNT: 10,840

TAGS: Autistic Fox, Trans Fox, Meltdowns, Stimming, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, In the form of, Self-injurious stimming, Autistic burnout, Internalised ableism, Gender identity, Non-binary Stone, Non-binary Fox, Autism, Hurt/comfort, Emotional hurt/comfort, Dissociation, Echolalia, Cody's name is Kote, Fox-centric, Autistic Cody, Trans Bly, Mentions Murderbot Diaries, Post The Clone Wars, Fox needs a hug, Fox gets a hug

SUMMARY:

After the war, the effects of four years of pretending to be the perfect Marshal Commander catch up with Fox. Luckily, Fox has an amazing support system. - “I love Fox, she’s my best friend, and they love to read Murderbot. Fox is kind to those he commands, and xe secretly has a soft spot for shinies. Ze is very loved, and I am happy to be helping hir.”

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#commander fox #marshal commander fox #Fox fic recs #Fic recs #star wars the clone wars #the clone wars #cloneshipping #not my fic #Whisky's Foxy fic recs

159 notes · View notes

paradiseprincesss · 1 month

Note

Hey lovely!!! I absolutely love all your fics

How about Jackson who slowly falls in love with reader and wants to marry her (shocking to him cuz he’s kind of a fuckboy) but then he learns that she’s been using him for information

Dark ending maybe?

double fantasy - jackson rippner x assassin!reader

hey queen, i have one word for you: YES. i wasn't sure if you wanted a dark ending for jackson himself or for the reader - so i just kind of went of a whim. also thank you for the support i love u endlessly you are so so so kind! kisses

summary: you had one job. seduce and kill your target; jackson rippner. you thought you had him wrapped around your finger but really - he had you wrapped around his.

word count: 3.9k

warnings: dark themes, (brief) smut 18+ mdni!!, daddy kink, praise kink, p in v, choking, mentions of murder, forced captivity, being held hostage, misogyny, mentions of breeding kink/forced breeding, housewife kink/fetish, mentions of forced pregnancy.

jackson thought he was pretty good at his job. i mean, being the leader of an assassination organization - he felt as if could read people like the back of his hand. he was a talented hitman - that much was obvious. he'd never failed a mission; if he did he'd be dead or in jail, perhaps he'd meet the fate of both tragic endings if he did ever fuck up.

as agile and manipulative as he was - he was no match to you. he couldn't even compare to you.

you weren't just some killer for hire , nor were you the leader of some assassination organization. you - you were lethal. you only worked along side a few other people, but mostly alone. you didn't work for some organization.

jackson considered himself to be a busy man, certainly too busy with work to date long-term. he only ever got with women casually, usually for a quick fuck or a one night stand, never bothering to follow up with any calls or god forbid - a date.

a heartbreaker, some may say. but as good as jackson was at that - you were even better. you seemed to be quite good at that; being better than him in pretty much everything he attempted to do. but jackson learned how you worked faster than you could keep up.

the repetitive music played loudly in the crowded bar, the dim lights barely giving any light source in the packed building, various neon signs hanging off the wall.

you came dressed to kill - literally.

with your hair and makeup done flawlessly, you stepped into the crowded bar in your highest louboutin red bottoms, in the classic black colour they were so well known for. your tight, black, mini dress hugged the shape of your body in all the rights ways; the see through lace on the bustier of it giving a little peak as to what was hiding underneath. the jewels on your earrings, necklace, and dainty but iced out bracelet probably costed more than what every single person in the bars salary was combined. you knew you were priceless.

"martini, dirty." you tell the bartender, reaching into your favourite designer clutch but he'd cut you off before you could even get a hold of your card. "ah, don't worry about that - it's on the house."

you smile sweetly, pretending to be shocked at the bartenders words with a little gasp just for dramatic effects, "really? you're so sweet." you tell him, biting your lip.

he places your martini, dirty, just the way you like it in front of you with a little smile - you knew you had this man wrapped around your finger within seconds of meeting him.

why were you here tonight, though?

well, a few hours ago you got a hefty deposit into your bank account of a few hundred thousand dollars - for a job well done, of course. earlier on in the quiet morning of that same day, you had murdered a man on the floor of his apartment without leaving a single trace as per requested by a few...not so good people.

this was just another day on the job. nothing new, nothing special. but still, you wanted to celebrate - getting paid is getting paid! however - your celebration plans were cut short when a certain contact reached out to you. grabbing your phone after hearing it buzz, you read the message and sigh.

hey gorgeous. need a favour. i'm in some serious shit. it's roman by the way. sent 4:58 pm.

roman was a man who you had worked with a few times - a pretty well known guy in the mafia, not that you had any business with them but hey, sometimes it didn't hurt to work together. especially when it brought in twice the payout.

hey. hm, what u need? sent 5:01 pm.

you quickly sent off your response, and within a few minutes roman had texted you back.

some fucking guy got some info about the drugs i was bringing in. dunno anything bout him but he works for that organization i was telling u bout last week. sent 5:09 pm.

oh that kill for hire bullshit one or wtvr? lol. ok. send me info. when u need him gone by? sent 5:15 pm.

i dont really need him dead...i just need him to disappear. if shit gets fucked up, then yeah kill him but for now i need you to find out what he knows and who his contacts are. then we can take em all out. i'll pay u 5 mil if u do this right. sent 5:31 pm.

with a sigh, you quickly hit him back with an "okay," and he wasted no time sending you the information on the guy he was after. you learned the name of your target, and where he'd be tonight.

"let me guess, you didn't actually plan on taking your card out to pay?" a smooth voice says to you, causing you to glance over to see a man matching the description that roman had sent to you earlier on in the day.

you scoff, playfully of course, and roll your eyes. "i was hoping the handsome stranger across the bar would be the one to offer up his card - but i guess the bartender will have to do."

he smirks at you, his crystal blue eyes still striking in the dimly lit bar, and he sticks his hand out to shake yours.

"jackson." he tells you, and you shake his hand softly, "jackson...?" you trail off, eluding that you wanted a last name, not that he knew you needed this information for conformation. "rippner. i guess my parents hated me. but i killed them," he pauses, "- kidding." and with that, he laughs softly, his dimples evident.

bingo.

"well, jackson. it's nice to meet you." you say to him, and then you give him of your name, to which he asks you another question. "just curious - what do you do for a living? modelling or something like that, surely?"

the question makes you take in a breath, and you answer promptly. "ah, flattering - but no. i work in finance. i'm an accountant."

"an accountant? god, you could be a model, hon." he laughs, leaning closer to you - hand now resting on your thigh. god, he's sleazy, you think to yourself.

"mm, thank you. you're not so bad yourself mr. rippner." you force yourself to say, phoney smile and all, chugging down the rest of your martini to ease the discomfort.

"what do you say we get you another one? on me this time, of course." he says lowly, close to your ear, which made you shiver. "i'll take you up on that offer." you tell him.

the night flew by, the two of you talked endlessly - with him constantly touching you in some way. he kept you topped up on martinis while he got his preferred drink; whiskey on the rocks.

"you know, i think you should come home with me tonight, hon." he whispers against your lips, your back pushed up against the brick wall in the cramped hallway of the dark bar. the two of you ended up like this because...well he was hot, and you were willing to do anything to get the information you needed. if it took a little kissing to get there, so be it.

"i think so too." you whisper back breathessly.

however, you'd come to somewhat regret those words by the next morning as you woke up in this strangers (debatable) bed - naked and tangled up in the sheets with him arm around you and a killer headache.

i'm hungover as fuck, you thought to yourself, eyes adjusting to the morning light drifting through the curtains.

"mornin." his raspy voice said, as he softly opened his eyes, taking you in.

gotta go gotta go gotta go!

leave!

get out!

the little voice in your head plagued you - but you knew it was the right thing to do. "hey," was all you managed to say, before trying to get up out of his grip and out of his bed, frantically searching for your dress, expensive shoes, clutch and jewelry.

quickly sliding the garment back on, you grab your belonging and shove them into your clutch, stumbling to get your high heels on as he watched you.

"...uh, so nice...meeting you, i guess." he says to you - a little awkwardly. usually, could not care less if a woman was in a rush to leave his place, in fact, he was usually the one rushing them out the door. but for some reason, he couldn't seem to do that to you because you'd beat him to it.

"yeah, nice." you tell him, your head clouded with thoughts. you fucked up.

you slept with the one person you shouldn't have slept with - and you left with no information for roman. maybe today would be the day you got killed.

"wait." jackson says suddenly, "do...i have your number? can i text you later?" jackson didn't know why he said this, he sounded like some desperate loser who'd never felt the touch of a woman before.

as you were about to say "no, and i don't want to give it to you," an idea popped into your head. maybe you didn't fuck up, after all.

"no, but..." you smile softly with a pause, "i'm sorry. i'm just in a rush because i don't usually do this and it's kind of embarrassing. but um-"

"don't go." he says, almost in a begging manner, getting up out of the bed with just his plaid pyjama pants hanging loosely off his waist. "i mean, you can if you want. but i'd like to see you again."

you didn't realize this so called "dangerous assassin leader" was that...easy? lonely? desperate? all of the above?

"take me out sometime, then." you tell him, to which he smiles and says; "yeah, you're not working tonight, right?"

"tonight?" you said, a little surprised, "i'm not working, no..."

"then i'll pick you up at 8." he tells you plainly, his gaze never leaving yours.

"...erm- okay." you say with a breathless laugh, and soon enough, you were doing your walk of shame home. well, barely a walk of shame - he got you an uber to your place, so you didn't have to walk very much at all.

you would honestly rather die than walk down the street to flag down a cab in thousand dollar shoes and last nights dress.

that afternoon, whilst getting ready for your date with jackson, you gave roman a call and gave him a run down of your plan.

"what, like you're going to seduce the guy?" he asks over the phone. "yeah, cause think about it. if i get him to trust me - give his all to me, i think i'd get more information than if i were to just threaten him or hold him hostage." you inform roman, to which he surprisingly agrees with you.

"yeah- yeah, alright. that's actually not a bad idea at all. maybe we can get info on all the people he has working for him. take them out." he tells you, and you spend the next couple minutes on the phone going back and forth about it.

soon enough, it was nearly 8 o'clock. you'd texted jackson your address prior to your date, and he said he'd be there to pick you up. you stepped out the door looking like a million dollars - hair done in your signature style, makeup just how you liked it, saint laurent heels on, and a sexy outfit to match.

when jackson stepped out of his vehicle to open the passenger door for you, his heart stopped.

"you look incredible." he says in awe, opening the door for you, and you politely smile at him, "you're gonna make me blush."

the date went surprisingly well, the two of you definitely hit it off - well, he was under that impression anyway...but so were you.

jackson was notorious for his "fuckboy" personality; he never cared to have a girlfriend or any sort of commitment as casual sex just seemed so much...better. no strings attached, he could see whoever else he wanted, he could focus on his job without distractions.

but- there was something about you. you didn't chase after him, in fact, you were the one who tried to leave as soon as you woke up in his bed. jackson wasn't used to that, he wasn't used to a woman who was just like him.

"i'd love to see you again sometime." jackson says softly, hand on your thigh as he drove you back to your place post-date. he kept his gaze locked on the dark road ahead of him. glancing over at him from the passenger seat, you take a deep breathe. as wrong as it was - you thought he was so sexy. he was gorgeous, no doubt about it.

"yeah, i'd like that." you say back to him in a flirtatious voice, to which he hums in agreement.

you really had your work cut out for you - but that's okay. you were willing to play the long game here.

"oh my god, jackson-" his name fell from your lips as you laid under him, a moaning, begging mess.

"tell me how good it feels, honey." he coos to you as he keeps himself deep inside - the tip of his cock bruising your cervix. you could feel yourself getting close already.

"feels so good, daddy." you pant as his cock rearranges your insides. the way he was splitting you open was delicious.

but you had to remind yourself - this wasn't real. this was your job. this was purely...work.

"so good for me, honey. fuck- you're so tight." he hisses, feeling your cunt tighten up around his cock, indicating you were close. "cum for me, baby. show daddy who you belong to."

"please please please - fuck!" you were screaming now, not caring who heard you as he took you in his bed, fucking you in an animalistic way.

his words - mixed with the way he was rearranging your insides, caused you to make a mess all over his cock. as jackson felt you cream his cock, he felt himself unable to hold in his own release.

"good girl, honey. gonna fill this tight little pussy up with my cum. god, i love you." he moans, after giving you a few more harsh thrusts. you felt spurts of his warm cum fill you up, cock twitching as he kept stuffing your cunt.

after he came down from his high, he pulled out and pulled you close to him, the both of you laying naked in the king-sized bed. the post-sex clarity hit you suddenly - and you were trying your hardest to fight it off.

you didn't love him - god, no. never. you didn't even know how to love. you murdered people for a living; love didn't exist in your world. however, the man who held you in his arms was feeling quite the opposite, or so he had gotten you to think

he was falling in love with you. fuck that - he already fell in love with you. yes, the two of you had similar if not the same line of work, but that didn't mean that jackson was immune to you. that didn't mean he was safe from the way you made him feel. you had him right where you wanted.

or so you thought.

maybe the line between love - and sick, twisted obsession was closer than you thought.

you were making secret calls to roman every second that jackson was away at work. jackson lied (partially), and told you that he worked as a ceo for a company that distributed pharmaceuticals. he was technically a ceo of a company - just not that one he had told you.

he let you think that he was still under the impression you were an accountant - and most days, you would "work from home" while he went out to work his "ceo" job.

you slammed the laptop shut as soon as you heard the keys in the door, and jackson stepped into his apartment dressed in his usual dress shirt, blazer, and slacks.

"miss me?" he teased, shutting the door behind him, coming over to kiss you softly on the couch. "missed you, baby." you assure him, even though you just spent the whole day sending roman pictures of all the contacts listed in jacksons laptop - along with some other useful information.

"sweetheart," he softly says to you, "i love you." your breath hitches in your throat, but you collect yourself quickly. "i love you too, jackson."

he smiles at you lovingly, and takes your hand in his. "i can't believe were going to be married in 3 months." he whispers, kissing your neck softly. you swallow, looking at the huge diamond that shone brightly on your ring finger. "i can't wait to spend forever with you." you lie, letting him place sloppy kisses all over your neck.

but...there was more truth to those words than you realized.

you'd spent the last year and a half seducing this man and getting him to fall for you - fall for you so hard that he ended up proposing to you - in which you didn't really have any choice but to say yes. play the part, you always told yourself.

"i knew i wasn't ever going to let you go when i first met you." he whispers, hand creeping up to grab a hold of your neck. you let yourself fall into his touch; jackson often liked to choke you leading up to and during sex, it was something the both of you were into.

"yeah, me too, baby." you whisper, feeling him give your neck a little squeeze. he let out a breathy chuckle, and squeezed a little harder.

"mmm, when roman sent me your picture saying he needed you gone, i knew i couldn't kill you. look at that pretty face," he coos, looking directly at you, "and that body - my god, i knew i was gonna keep you here as mine when i fucking saw you."

your heart stopped the second you heard him - and you stammer, feeling like you were actually suffocating now. "w-what?"

"i know who you really are, sweetheart." he grows, putting more pressure onto your neck.

"roman works for me."

your blood ran cold.

how could you not have known? you thought you could trust roman - how naive were you?

you should've known better not to trust people in the same seedy business you were involved in.

"silly girl," he coos mockingly, "you should thank me, you know. he wanted to kill you; have you go missing so that he could cash in. you know how many people have put out hits on you, right?"

you knew this was true. working in a business like the one you did, you make a lot of enemies - especially when you were one of the best in the game.

"i-i can e-explain-" you try and get the words out, but before you get to it, he chokes you harshly cutting off your air supply momentarily.

"you're good at what you do, you know that? but if you think you're actually better than me at this - you're fucking delusional." he spat, finally letting his grip go slightly around your neck, but still choking you softly. "but that's okay - i know. you're just a girl, after all."

"i-i thought you l-loved m-me." you say, stammering with broken words as you tried to breathe properly through his deathly grip.

"of course i love you, honey. that hasn't changed. if i didn't love you, i wouldn't have convinced roman to let you live." he informs you, "you really thought you were going to get me? hm? you've spent the last fucking year and a half sending my men so called 'blackmail' and 'information' about me."

suddenly, you felt a cold piece of metal pressed up against the side of your head, making you whimper. a gun. "it was my idea, to keep you distracted so that we could take you and whoever your working with down." he brags, "now that they're all out of the way," he whispers coldly, "it's just you that's left - and you're of no use to me dead. do you understand, baby?"

you nod your head, tears starting to roll down your face to which he coos at you. "oh, honey - there's no need to cry. you'll be happier like this." he pushes the gun harder against your temple. "everyone thinks your dead, so don't bother trying to escape. but, i have to say, what a payout that was. you really are priceless, sweetheart. i had all those people that had hits out on you send me millions. they must've really wanted you gone." he laughs lowly.

you sat there, gun pressed up against your head, and tears rolling down your face. "just pull the fucking trigger - i choose death." you whisper, and he shakes his head.

"i'd never do that to you, honey." he tells you, "unless you step out of line, of course. but you're a good girl. i doubt you ever would, especially not to your husband-to-be." the words made you sob harder than before, and before you knew it, he was slowly putting the gun down, and holding you with a tight grip - as he tried strip you down, painfully slow.

"now, here's how your new life will be, honey." he says, slipping your clothes off, leaving you in just your bra and panties. "oh- you naughty girl. you know how much i like this set." he ran his hands over the matching red lace set, and continued talking. "as i was saying - you'll love it like this, living the way a woman should. you'll be my little housewife, cooking and taking care the home for me while i'm out at work. i'll get us a bigger place - don't worry. i'm well aware we'll need more space for our kids."

you felt your heart sink at his words, "j-jackson, w-why are you doing this? just kill me, it's easier.."

he grabbed your face harshly, making you look directly at him. "shut the fuck up. i'm not done." he spat. "and say goodbye to those contraceptives - you're not going to need those when were married. how am i supposed to breed you, hm? stuff you with my kids? god, you really are fucking stupid. you're going to die by my side, i hope you know that. you'll make a cute little housewife, i can tell. you make a cute hostage, too." he pauses again, looking at you with faux sympathy, biting his lip as he saw the tears streaming down your face.

"no need fight it, honey. you don't need to hide how much you like this. you knew who i was when you first met me, you knew what i was capable of, but you stayed..."

you just sobbed harder at his words as his hands pawed at your tits. it was shameful how wet this whole situation was actually making you - but that was besides the point. as he watched you slowly lose your sanity, he whispered one last thing to you.

"you're going to die trapped in my arms, honey. don't you forget it."

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x reader #jonathan crane x f!reader #jonathan crane x reader #cillian fic #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian murphy imagine #cillian x fem!reader #dr jonathan crane #jackson rippner #jackson rippner x reader #jackson rippner x f!reader #jackson rippner x female reader #jackson rippner x you #red eye

163 notes · View notes

gallusrostromegalus · 11 months

Note

Concerning the "in front of 200 witnesses" part of the Kenpachi Succession, does that mean that if too many people die they have to postpone it until they can get more people who want the job, or do they specifically collect 200 people who won't be participating in that tourney to watch?

In AEIWAM, the current rules for the 11th Division Captaincy are:

THE 11TH DIVISION RULE: To become captain of the 11th Division, you must defeat the current 11th Division Captain

This was the first and only rule Yachiru Unohana made regarding succession of the Captaincy of the 11th division. This Means:

The 11th Division does not accept appointed captains- either by the usual process, a nominee of the central 46, or some noble house- and if you try to become captain without defeating the previous one (or now, adhering to The Amendments), the members of the 11th WILL kill you for trying.

The right to challenge the captain is available to anyone that is not expressly an enemy of the court guard. For example: No Sternritter could take over the 11th by killing Zaraki Kenpachi, because they are declared enemies. A Very Large Lizard could eat him and become captain though, because Soul Society is not currently at war with Very Large Lizards.

People with the express right to challenge for the right of captaincy includes but not limited to: Current Shinigami, Retired Shinigami, Students of Shinigami Academy, Various Animals, Peasants, Kami, Theoretically a Hollow if they weren't in jail for eating people somehow?, politicians if they CAN use a sword right, Mothman...

While this rule does generally keep with Unohana's intent that the 11th only ever be commanded by someone who understood what battle was all about and would walk with their troops, it did also lead to kind of a lot of backstabbing and murder and general disarray as people constantly jockeyed for the position. Since then, Yamamoto has had to make a few Addendums in order to, you know, keep the 11th actually running:

Amendment 1: The 11th Division Rule applies ONLY to the 11th Division. You must follow the normal means of becoming a captain (passing the captain's exam with 3 other captains as witnesses, or getting the vote of confidence of other captains in a vote.) to become captain of any other division.

This a notable rule because literally the week after Unohana established the rule, some moron tried to claim that he should be allowed to command the 3rd, because he'd killed the 3rd division captain* in a bar fight. The moron was summarily incinerated on the spot, but Yamamoto decided to make sure to put it in writing, so he would not have to deal with That Stupidity again.

*allegedly. Kinroku was a slippery little fuck ans Yamamoto was never 100% certain if the mangled human remains wearing Kinroku's glasses really were him or if he had done a runner to enjoy his retirement in peace.

Yamamoto would instead be forced to deal with other, much worse stupidity.

Unohana Kenpachi held her position as the Captain of the 11th Division for well over a century after she established that sucession rule, until an Unwitnessed fight in the North 80th or "Zaraki" District inured her already-compromised left lung to the point that it needed to be removed. She was defeated in battle (by point of surrender) by her first lieutenant the day after she got out of the hospital, much to her satisfaction.

Trouble was, Captain Kuzuri Kenpachi was then BESET with constant challenges to her authority, assassination attempts and so much resistance she could hardly get the Division in line long enough to do it's job, and the fatalities from Kuzuri defending her life and job were starting to add up, so Yamamoto instituted the second addendums to the rules:

Amendment Two: Conditions Of Functionality

2.1: You must duel The Current Captain Of the 11th Division, in a one-on-one duel, after expressly challenging them for the right to be Captain.

This Means NO:

Ganging up on the captain (this is to prove your individual worthiness, not your choreography skills)

Assassinations (go apply yourself over at the 2nd division),

No randomly killing your boss, and declaring it a challenge to get out of murder charges after the fact.

2.2: This Duel must be witnessed by at least 200 people who do not have political, financial or other motivation to lie about the events later.

Yamamoto needs to be DAMN SURE you actually followed the above rules.

2.2.1: At least two of those witnesses need to be 10th seat or higher officers from two different divisions from both each other and the division the challenger might belong to.

-And that some rich asshole didn't just pay 200 people to say that's what happened.

If you're going to do a political conspiracy, put some EFFORT in.

2.3: Defeat can be defined before combat if both participants agree to the terms. For instance, they can decide to end combat when one participant: Starts bleeding, leaves an agreed-upon arena, stays down for a 10 count, is rendered unconscious, or surrenders. If no terms are negotiated, the duel is to be to the death, even if one participant is unable to fight.

Kuzuri please, the body count is starting to interfere with recruitment.

After that, since the challengers had to actually try to fight Kuzuri fairly, the frequency of attempts went down to a manageable level, and the quality of challengers steadily improved until she was defeated on the terms of a ten-count 78 years into her captaincy by another Shinigami, who became the third captain of the Division, Mizutsuga Kenpachi.

Mizutsuga lead the 11th Division for 98 years before suddenly dying in a bizarre case of Cicutoxin Poisoning from eating Water Hemlock, misidentified as the Division's perfectly edible flower, Yarrow. Then followed a bit of a struggle- Nobody was quite sure HOW to appoint the next captain, and there were not a lot of people eager to take the job. So Yamamoto was forced to create:

Amendment Three: In Case Of No Succession:

3.1 If The Current Captain is not available to answer challenges due to being already dead, in jail, a coward, turned into a rat, lost in another dimension, or whatever, they are assumed to have surrendered the post. 3.2 Yamamoto will dictate A) If the current captain of the is in fact, not available and not just locked in a closet or otherwise being prevented from accepting the challenge by subterfuge. B) The terms of the battle that will be held to determine the next captain. 3.3 Please do not make him do this, he WILL be a Petty Asshole about it.

Frustrated that he'd had to micro-managed the 11th division's sucession twice now, Yamamoto ordered a Battle Royale and the last one still in the fight would be the new captain, leading to the appointment of Kiiro Kenpachi.

It turned out that the Battle Royale had not been Yamamoto's best plan, because Kiiro was less the Soul Society's strongest Swordsman and more Soul Society's most evasive little coward, who had simply remained hidden until all but the last few comppettitors were left, and exhausted. He governed the 11th division in much the same way, by managing to avoid doing his work, any responsibility and any challenge to his paycheck by Simply Not Being There, which is a great way to survive a war and a terrible way to run emergency services. after a mere 12 years of this malarkey, Yamamoto created:

Amendment Four: No Wiggling Out Of This One

4.1: For all 24 hours of November 11th every year, The Current Captain is REQUIRED to answer any challenge to their seat.

4.2: The rest of the year, the captain can choose to accept or turn a challenger down and tell them to get in line on Nov. 11th, or agree to answer the challenge at an agreed specified time and place. Like when they're not in the middle of an assignment.

Fearing for the safety of his life and his lucrative job, Kiiro arranged a tournament so that not only was HIS job up for grabs, so were the positions of all the seated officers, and the ensuing riot destroyed a large portion of the city and by the time the fires had been put out, it was November 12th, and Kiiro was still alive.

4.3: The Current Captain will make themselves available for challenge OUTSIDE the Seireitei in an area reasonably devoid of habitation but still accessible, with the presence of both:

the 4th division (to manage casualties)

another division (to keep the riot from spreading. We'll take turns doing this shit job.)

The New seated officers that had won their positions the previous year were also not fans of Kiiro, and traditionalists, and persuaded Yamamoto to add:

4.4: On November 11th, a ranking tournament will be held to determine the 200 strongest participants, who will then form that year's 11th Division.

Anyone not currently an enemy of the state is welcome to participate in the tournament

After they sign a wavier that we are not liable for damages done to them.

4.4.2 If any participant make it into the top 200, may immediately become shinigami and members of the 11th division without having to go through the Shigami academy

Studying is still recommended and free tuition will be offered

The top 20 ranked participants will become the new seated officer, with the top-ranked participant becoming the new captain.

4.4.3: FAILURE to participate in the tournament without sufficient excuse will result in immediate termination of your position and firing from the gotei-13.

The validity of any excuse will be determined by both presiding captains, who must both agree that the excuse is valid.

The following year the noise and scent of blood from "Eleventh Division Tryout Day" attracted the attention of an exceptionally large and powerful Tree Goana, who immediately devoured Kiiro Kenpachi, and, with nobody else wishing to become reptile snacks, became Tokagero Kenpachi, who served for 234 years before her disappearance, the longest term of any 11th Division Captain.

Yamamoto has not needed to manage the succession of 11th Division Captains since then, save to crack an eye open after the arrest and imprisonment of the 8th captain of the 11th, Azashiro Kenpachi, when his lieutenant proposed holding that year's tryout day a few weeks early instead, and abiding by those results until at least the following year, and nodding in agreement. Now THAT is how you manage.

So to actually answer your question: the 200 witnesses thing was ORIGINALLY to make sure that the rules of succession were being followed, but it has since morphed into a "Make sure there are 200 people alive to actually BE the 11th Division" thing, a "Contain the Riot" thing AND a "Unohana likes checking in on her old division and watching the carnage" thing.

#AEIWAM #an elephant is warm and mushy #this doesn't even get into the hilarity of the 6th and 9th Kenpachis #kenpachi zaraki #yachiru unohana #tokagero kenpachi #bleach #bleach fanfic #long post

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sugoi-writes · 3 months

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(No one requested this; just sweet fluff and pining. Also, music, because I'm a former music major LOL. This was LIGHTLY proofread).

Alastor x GN! Reader - Reader walks in on Al playing the piano late at night... 🎙❤️

You yawned as you practically waddled down the hall. Your feet ached to be relieved. Specifically: you wanted nothing more to be asleep and horizontal, watching the back of your eyelids.

As you continued to trudge forward, you hear the sound of a piano bellowing from a cracked door. This door, surely Alastor's, had rarely been open. You were perplexed; why would it be open to enter, especially this late night? You glanced at your phone, knowing that you had an early morning tomorrow with Charlie and Vaggie. Against your better judgment, you started to creep towards the open door. As you did your best to move silently, you were torn between two possible outcomes. It was either a friendly invitation or a deadly mistake.

When you closed the distance, you peaked through the crack, taking in the sight of the red, charismatic hotelier's performance. The melody was a soothing, digestible tune that was easy to get lost in. You couldn't help but keep watching, even as Alastor glanced your way. Alastor simply closed his eyes and sighed, hands still creating the melody you absorbed.

"You know, it's never kind to stare, darling," Alastor nearly purred, his hands moving gracefully and methodically. You swallowed the lump forming in your throat, pushing the door open more. You allowed your head to cross the barrier, smiling sheepishly.

"Sorry... I was finding it hard to sleep. I... y-You play pretty well," you replied, feeling his eyes on you again. The hairs on your neck stood at attention as Alastor chuckled, not taking his eyes off of you.

" 'ppreciated, my dear. It was commonplace to be well versed in the Arts in my time." You pushed the door wide open before leaning on the doorframe," So Music is your favorite, I take it?"

Alastor's smile widens as his gaze returns to the ebony and ivory keys," A fair guess~"

You continued to watch Alastor at work, rubbing your arms nervously as you hugged yourself. Even without his gaze on you, you felt yourself shrinking. Was it always this calming yet intimidating to be around him???

"Do you, uhh... would you mind if I kept listening? I could make you some tea or something, if you--"

"I'm afraid I cannot find much sleep myself. But I do appreciate the offer, nonetheless." Wordlessly, Alastor scoots over on the piano bench, making you freeze in place. You almost took a step back towards the hallway, but instead, you relented. This was what you had asked for, anyhow!

You make your way over to the piano bench, noticing that it was an antique but well-cared for instrument. One that seemed even older than Alastor himself... As you took your seat next to the demon, your eyes settled onto his hands. Due to his elongated, thin fingers, his movements were very graceful, as if playing piano were an easy as breathing. You were practically mesmerized, astonished that Alastor had a knack for something other than murder and sarcasm. Your eyelids drooped slighty, head nodding before you were startled by the voice of the radio demon.

"Have you played before, dear?" You blinked, surprised as you took note of the lack of static in Alastor's voice. His tone was much softer than you were accustomed to, almost as if he were relaxed. You shook your head, scratching the back of your neck.

"I-Ive kinda messed with them whenever I had the chance, but... mostly simple stuff like Hot Cross Buns and Mary Had a Little Lamb."

Alastor chuckled, his nose creasing upward," Hah, even then, better than most... you attempt to make music. That's a step in the right direction." You can't help the heat rising in your cheeks as Alastor continued, before looking your way again.

"Would you like to hear anything in particular? 'Maybe learn a thing or two?" You blinked, intrigued by the question," Well, I mean-- you've probably never heard of it before, but-- ahh, don't you usually need music sheets or something? To read the music??"

Alastor coyly taps his ear, his left hand taking over the melody temporarily. He makes a show of flicking his wrist to adjust his sleeve's cuff, before he returns to playing with both hands.

"I've been told I have a pretty good ear... humor me." Caving in, you take out your phone. Luckily, you had the song downloaded, so Vox-related interference was limited. You set the phone on the piano as your song started to play, Alastor's brows raising. ...Something he hadnt heard?

You smiled and shrugged sheepishly," I-Its a little modern... I hope that's alright." Alastor doesn't seem to mind, nearly forgetting to reply as his fingers ghost over the keys.

"No worries. I can always put a little spin on it, darling..." You nodded, as Alastor's hands jumped about and 'played', his fingers not fully pressing down the different keys. He then figured out the starting pitch of the song, a triumphant smile pushing his cheeks higher up his face. His movements now are more deliberate, poking and plucking through the melody and chorus. He did have a good ear, after all!

You were once again surprised as Alastor plays earnestly, perfectly mirroring the song as it played. You felt the tension leaving your shoulders, slumping forward in your seat as you let yourself absorb the song. It was one of your favorites... admittedly, one that you fell asleep to often. You felt the weight of your eyelids winning, head bobbing as you struggled to stay awake. You start to hum along, in attempts to remain conscious. The only thing you had managed to do was win over Alastor's gaze again, his smile softening.

When he felt your head hit his shoulder, his hands hesitated for just a moment. He didn't have the heart to push you away... He resolved himself to being your pillow, finishing the rest of the song with a quieter, fluttering finish. His hands hung over the keyboard for a few moments, before he looked to you again. In your state, it would be difficult to wake you, quiet snores filling his bedroom. He did his best not to chuckle, looping his arms behind your back and under your knees.

With confidence, Alastor lifted you from your seat effortlessly, closing his eyes as he transported the both of you. He was now in your room, taking in his surroundings as he carried you towards your bed. With the care akin to his mother, he set you on the bed, pulling your comforter up and over your sleeping form. He was relieved you were already dressed for bed. Funny... it almost seemed planned.

As he let go of your sheets, his hands hesitated, as if he just finished another song. His hand went to the top of your head, jerking back slightly before settling in. You were very soft, your hair tickling his hand as he brushed it away from your face. Sometimes, he enjoyed the quiet that the night could bring... and he seemed to enjoy it more while watching you catch up on your rest.

He sighed, offering you a gentle pat atop your crown before standing up. He jumped with a start as he heard you stir, rolling onto your side. He watched to see if you would wake, but was relieved to see you did not. With a smile, he turns away, walking towards your door.

"Sweet dreams, dear... mayhaps I'll see you tomorrow, too."

#alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #alastor hazbin x y/n #alastor fanfic #radio demon #radio demon hazbin hotel #this was written in one sitting so i hope this isnt shit #ahhhh #fluff #fanfiction fluff

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cherienymphe · 6 months

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Teenage Dirtbag II (JJ Maybank x Reader x Rafe Cameron)

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | ➥ divider by @firefly-graphics

➥ series masterlist

Your rescue just comes with a price.

“Why was JJ even trying to give you some drink, anyway?”

You resisted the urge to sigh, anticipating such a question the moment the topic had swung back around to the party from last week. You kept your gaze on your lip gloss, dipping it once then twice before looking up into the mirror. You could hear Rafe pause in his movements, no doubt waiting for an answer, and this time you finally did heave a breath.

“I don’t know, Rafe. I told you this,” you said to him, turning to look at him as he sat on the edge of his bed.

You watched him study you, that blue gaze of his oh so unnerving, and you weren’t the least bit relieved when he simply hummed.

“I know,” he finally replied, tongue pressing to the inside of his cheek. “…but I have a right to wonder. Especially since you’ve never spoken to him a day in your life before that night.”

Rolling your eyes, you turned to swipe the sticky product over your lips, recalling that it was one of Rafe’s favorite shades. The conversation had the potential to slip into dangerous territory, derailing your entire night, and you mulled over your next words carefully.

“He was probably just trying to get a rise out of you,” you honestly murmured, looking at your boyfriend. “…and it worked.”

You merely shrugged at him as he scoffed.

“I mean, he’s way more familiar with you than me. Probably just wanted to piss you off.”

You turned the light off in his bathroom, making your way towards your shoes as you desperately hoped this conversation would come to an end soon. The topic of other men was one that rarely ended nonviolently, and you didn’t know how Rafe got it into his head that the antics of JJ Maybank had anything to do with you when everyone on this entire island knew how much they hated each other. A year ago, you barely even knew the other blonde’s name.

“Well, it worked,” Rafe confessed, coming over to help you put on your other shoe. “You’re too good to even be talking to trash like that, so yeah. It pissed me off.”

At the look on your face, Rafe continued, shaking his head.

“I know what you’re thinking, and you really don’t need to go around feeling sorry for guys like that. He’s not the down on his luck kid you think he is,” he advised, pulling you to your feet. “Him and all of Sarah’s little buddies are nothing but trouble.”

Rafe took his time telling you this, making sure you heard every word, and you only felt compelled to nod as he placed a brief kiss on your lips. Rafe swiped up your purse for you as he pulled you out of the room. You felt safer with Rafe in his house than you did in your own, but Ward’s careful eye on his son had never been foolproof. There’d been plenty of times Rafe gave you a sprained wrist or bruised jaw in his very own bedroom.

It's just that in his desire to be more careful within the Cameron household, he sometimes decided that it wasn’t even worth it.

“Where are you two off to?” Sarah wondered as you came face to face with her in the living room.

You hadn’t even known she was home, and when it became clear that Rafe wasn’t going to answer her, you did.

“To a movie.”

The smile you sent her was small, and she reluctantly returned it before settling her gaze on her brother. You didn’t miss the way her eyes narrowed, lips pursing a tad. They never got along, but considering recent events, you knew what this particular disagreement was about to be about.

“JJ’s nose is still pretty messed up, you know.”

At that, Rafe did finally acknowledge her, stopping to face her with a challenging look you knew all too well. He tilted his head to the side, one brow raised.

“That sounds like something that isn’t my problem,” he shrugged, and you softly told him that you needed to go in an attempt to avoid whatever this was, but he ignored you.

“God, you’re such an asshole, you know that? JJ just offered your girlfriend a drink and so you broke his nose? Yeah, ‘cause that makes sense,” Sarah murmured, shaking her head as she looked back down at her phone.

You squeezed Rafe’s arm, but he merely sneered at his sister.

“JJ’s a little shit who likes to look for trouble wherever he goes. Not my fault he found it,” Rafe spat, pulling you along before Sarah could reply.

His quiet disposition and tight grip on your hand told you how annoyed he was at Sarah’s reminder of JJ and that night, and you mentally wondered if this was going to be a little thing or something that affected your whole night. Maybe even the next one too. He said nothing when he helped you into his truck, and so you were unsurprised that he was quiet his whole way to the movie too.

You were thankful this was the date of choice because it was easier to ignore Rafe’s mood when your eyes were glued to the screen. In fact, there were moments you forgot he was even there, giggling to whatever was going on in front of you. Once the movie was over, however, Rafe’s uncharacteristic silence was hard to ignore.

Knowing that you’d regret it, you finally spoke up when you made it back to his truck.

“I feel like you’re mad at me for some reason.”

It sounded silly to your ears, but then again, you knew your boyfriend like the back of your hand, and as little sense as it made, you had the sneaking suspicion that he put some blame with you somehow.

“Not mad,” he murmured, and you simply looked at him.

His gaze and the tightness in his jaw said otherwise, and despite his evident annoyance, he still claimed otherwise. He was silent as he opened your door—his irritation growing the longer you stared at him—and when he blinked, straightening, you finally slid inside. You weren’t surprised to have the door slammed in your face, and you could only sigh when he joined you.

The first few minutes of the drive were as quiet as before, but when Rafe finally cracked, you could only close your eyes.

“Why did you even want to go that night, anyway?” he bitterly chuckled.

You turned to look out of the window with a defeated heave of your shoulders, swallowing.

“You’ve never wanted to go before, and even then, some bonfire on the beach isn’t your thing. You go to house parties with pools and prissy bitches who don’t want to get their hair wet,” he sneered, making you look at him. “Yeah, JJ might’ve wanted to piss me off, but it was you he chose to do it through.”

“So…what…? It’s my fault? I should’ve never gone with you, is that what you’re saying?”

You frowned at him when he glanced at you, dirty blond hair kissing his forehead, and Rafe’s silence spoke volumes. Against your will, you felt your throat tightening, and you were unsurprised when tears kissed your eyes. You hated crying in front of Rafe.

“I just wanted to go, Rafe. I’d never been, and…it’s not like I have any friends to go with anymore. Would you have rather I’d gone alone?”

“Don’t be cute,” he threw at you, tossing you a scathing look. “You wouldn’t even get the chance to try.”

You huffed, looking away from him as he continued, watching the trees fly by.

“Besides, I thought we both agreed that your friends were catty airheads who you didn’t need to be around,” Rafe firmly said. “You have better friends, now.”

“Those are your friends,” you sighed. “…and I know because they barely talk to me. I’m just your girlfriend who’s supposed to stand there and look pretty.”

Those last words came out in a murmur, but Rafe heard them loud and clear.

“You’d have nothing to complain about if you didn’t ask to go in the first place.”

His words made your frown deepen, and despite what you wanted, a few tears escaped. You looked at him in disbelief, although, you didn’t know why. You should’ve been perfectly used to the words that came out of his mouth, sometimes, now.

“What am I supposed to do, Rafe?” you cried. “Just sit in my room, twiddling my thumbs until you come back?”

When he looked at you, he rolled those blue eyes of his, a scoff leaving his perfect lips.

“I don’t have time for the antics, tonight,” he breathed.

Now, it was your turn to scoff.

“You started it,” you pointed out.

You knew that you were already on thin ice, you could tell, but when Rafe cut his eyes back to you, your heart skipped a beat. You watched your boyfriend swipe his tongue between his lips, slowly nodding as he looked back at the road.

“Okay…” the truck started to slow as he inhaled. “Yeah, okay.”

You felt the hairs on your arms stand on end as he stopped in the middle of the road. It was late, so it wasn’t like the roads of Kildare County were littered with traffic, but it still made you nervous, nonetheless. You watched Rafe turn the truck off, and before you could say anything he was looking at you.

“Get out.”

His words made you blink, lips parting before snapping them shut.

“…what?”

One of Rafe’s arms leaned on the steering wheel while his other hand rested behind your headrest. Even in the darkness, there was a glint in his eyes that told you he was completely serious despite the insanity of the request. The atmosphere in the truck felt so tense—thick with it—and you pulled your lip between your teeth when Rafe leaned in, gaze cold and mocking.

“You said I started it? Well, now I’m finishing it. Get the fuck out of my truck,” Rafe quietly spat at you, making you flinch.

An incredulous bark of a laugh escaped you.

“Rafe, it’s the middle of the night, are you crazy?”

At your refusal to do what he asked, he merely turned away, opening his door. Your heart fell to your stomach as you watched him hurry to your side, yanking the door open and proceeding to yank you too.

“Rafe! What the hell-?”

Your words were cut off as you were forced to stumble out of the vehicle and into the road—without your purse. When he roughly shoved you away, you tripped over your own feet, hissing in pain as you barely caught yourself on your hands. Rafe was already back in his truck by the time you pushed yourself to your feet, and in shock, you watched him start it up. You’d only just reached the handle of the door when he sped off, and you screamed his name after him in a mix of fear and anger.

You couldn’t even really focus on the knowledge that you were in the middle of an empty stretch of road in the middle of the night. You were too angry and annoyed to, and with a sob, you pressed your face into your hands. You sniffed, wiping your face before wrapping your arms around yourself and looking around.

You knew that trying to go toe to toe with Rafe even just a little could prove to be disastrous. You just desperately wanted him to understand that all you had was him. With no friends and no social life outside of him, Rafe was all you had, and you weren’t the bad guy for simply wanting to go to a party with him. You knew he knew this though, so you didn’t even know why you bothered, but you just hated to be blamed for something JJ Maybank did solely because he and Rafe hated each other.

You were merely a tool in the incident.

Rafe was so childish sometimes, so this little display of anger shouldn’t have surprised you. Even still, your nerves were on end as you started to walk down the road. Like you’d thought earlier, there was no traffic in sight, and truthfully, nothing in Outer Banks was that far from anything else, but that didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things.

You wiped your face again, but fresh tears just fell.

It was cold, and while your jacket kept you from shaking, this still wasn’t the kind of weather to be walking down the street in. You couldn’t stop crying no matter how much you tried, debating with yourself if you wanted to just keep walking towards your house or try your chances with getting sympathy from some stranger. You knew what Rafe would prefer—and you knew what was statistically safer—but something in you wanted to piss him off further.

After all, he was the one who threw a tantrum and put you out on the side of the road in the middle of the night. Something in you was desperate to teach him a lesson, and you genuinely wondered what Rafe would do if you just…never came home. You wanted to see the look on his face when your parents called him asking if he’d seen you. However, something in you told you that he wouldn’t be as stricken as you’d think.

This was the same man who threatened to kill you on several occasions.

…but that was different.

That had always been when you tried to leave or even made him think you would leave. That was always said as a promise to make you stay, and even worse, that was when your demise would be at his hands. Rafe wouldn’t get the same satisfaction from leaving you to the mercy of the elements and strangers in the middle of the night.

You were just wiping more tears away when you could see headlights coming from the other end of the road. You weren’t on that side, so you weren’t all that concerned, and despite your earlier bleak thoughts, you actually didn’t relish getting in some stranger’s car and hoping he was honest enough to just take you where you needed to go.

However, your heart did sink a little when it became clear the vehicle was slowing down.

…but your worry morphed into irritation when you recognized the truck.

Rolling your eyes, you merely kept walking as Rafe slowed down enough to have a conversation with you. Or at least attempt to, anyway. You didn’t look at him, swallowing and keeping your tearful eyes straight ahead as you walked.

“Baby, get in the truck.”

“Why?” you wondered with a shrug. “You’re the one who kicked me out.”

“I don’t have time for this,” you heard him mumble. “Y/N, get in the truck.”

Against your better judgement, you ignored him, and Rafe stopped reversing to put the vehicle in park. You picked up your pace when you heard his door open, but Rafe was faster, and you could only attempt to pull away when he roughly grabbed your arm. Yanking you towards him, Rafe didn’t hesitate to push you against the side of the truck, making you wince.

His hold was so tight on your arm, and you shrank away from him when he pressed his nose to yours. His chest and shoulders were heaving, so you knew that he was beyond annoyed, now, but the stubborn part of you that reared its ugly head sometimes only stared back at him with trembling lips.

“I really don’t have time for this, tonight,” he whispered. “Get in the fucking truck, so we can go home.”

“You kicked me out! You go home…and I’ll just walk,” you tearfully spat, attempting to get out of his hold. “It’s what you wanted, anyway.”

Rafe’s impatience was bleeding through as you tried to get past him. One of his arms secured itself around your waist, the other gripping your arm as you attempted to grab that one. You were a mess of limbs and tears as you begged him to let go of you, Rafe’s low voice telling you to get it together.

You weren’t surprised when you found yourself harshly thrown to the ground.

You cried out when your chin bounced off of the pavement, unable to stop your fast descent in time. You heard Rafe curse from above you as a loud sob escaped, and you reached up to touch your chin, attempting to push yourself up. Rafe—in his haste—beat you to it though, grabbing you and forcing you to your feet. You could feel wetness on your chin as he forced you to the passenger side, quite literally shoving you into the truck.

You flinched when he slammed the door shut, tearful gaze focused on the glove compartment as he angrily joined you. When he told you to put on your seatbelt, you reluctantly did with trembling fingers, a choked cough escaping as you tried to stop crying. You couldn’t.

Rafe didn’t say a word to you the whole way back to his house, but you could feel his gaze on you every now and then. He didn’t turn on the radio, the only sound in the vehicle was that of your harsh wails. When he finally did stop in his yard, you both sat there for some time before a long sigh reached your ears.

“You know how I get,” you eventually heard him say. “You know I wouldn’t just…leave you out there.”

You didn’t say anything because you had nothing to say. You heard him shift, and you flinched again when the tips of his fingers grazed your face, his other hand coming up to gently take your chin. Turning you to face him, you watched his blue eyes roam over your face, taking in your tearful cheeks and bloody chin.

“I’m sorry.”

Not only was it something you’d heard a million times before, but you also knew that it was solely in reference to your face. Rafe wasn’t apologizing for kicking you out on the side of the road in the middle of the night. Why would he apologize for that when he felt that was justified? When you said nothing in response, he opted for getting out, and when he opened your door, you hesitated before taking his offered hand.

Once you were standing before him, he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you against him. You felt him press his lips into your hair, deeply inhaling. He quietly apologized again, and his words hung in the air as you knew what he wanted. Sniffling, you nodded.

“It’s okay,” you whispered. “It was an accident.”

It wasn’t…because even if Rafe hadn’t explicitly tried to make you bleed, he had intended to hurt you. In these moments, in the aftermath of whatever else Rafe did, it was so easy to think to yourself that you’d leave him. It was almost too easy to hype yourself up, but then you’d think about how it felt to be on the receiving end of that emotionless stare, dead eyes gazing back at you. You’d think about the fear you’d feel whenever his hand was round your neck.

…or the feel of the barrel of a gun in your mouth.

It was so easy until you remembered that Rafe would actually kill you, and you’d learned a long time ago that Rafe wasn’t one to bluff.

You were making something to eat when you heard someone coming down the stairs, and when you glanced up, you weren’t surprised to make eye contact with Sarah. You knew she was home, and you’d heard her friends downstairs not too long ago. You surmised that they were outside waiting for her judging by her state of undress.

“Oh,” she said, sounding a little startled to see you. “I didn’t know you were still here. Where’s Rafe?”

She glanced towards the stairs, and you confirmed her suspicions that he was indeed gone.

“He went to the club with Kelce and Topper.”

You gave her a shrug, answering her silent question.

“I didn’t really feel like going.”

It wasn’t a lie, but you also knew that even if you did feel like going, it probably wouldn’t have gone over well. The last time you went to the country club with Rafe, it didn’t exactly end the best. Running into some of his more casual friends had apparently sparked a conversation that you unfortunately bore the brunt of. It amazed you, really, how Rafe wanted both an attractive girlfriend his friends could envy him for while also losing his mind if said friends dared to say it.

“Oh,” she said again, a little more dejected this time.

Your attention was focused on your food, so you didn’t even realize Sarah was still lingering about until she spoke again.

“We’re going to the beach,” she suddenly blurted out, and you’d guessed as much at the sight of her bikini top. “You should come with us.”

At that you paused, giving her a questionable look that conveyed exactly what you were thinking. Sarah sighed, dropping her bag to the floor before nearing you with a roll of her eyes.

“I know that we’re not friends,” she slowly started, scrunching her face. “…but you’ve been dating my brother for like, what, two years?”

You glanced down at that.

“…and…I know it’s not my place, but you just seem lonely sometimes,” she hurried to continue when your gaze met hers. “I mean, I never really see you do anything that doesn’t involve Rafe. At least, not anymore.”

You swallowed at that.

“Come on, he’s at the stupid country club with his friends, and you’re just waiting for him to get back. Surely, you can’t like that.”

Sarah was more right than she knew, but you swallowed that down.

“I told you, Sarah, I didn’t want to go. I’m fine just hanging out here. I like being at your house,” you chuckled.

Sarah looked like she wanted to say something else but thought better of it. However, she did eye you though with a look you couldn’t place, and you sent her a reassuring smile as you grabbed your plate.

“You guys have fun,” you encouraged, touching her arm on your way past her.

You wondered how pathetic you’d become if your boyfriend’s younger sister was extending a hesitant offer of friendship. Granted, it wasn’t like she was outside your age group or anything, because she wasn’t, but the other circumstances surrounding your relationship just made it seem sad on your end. Your boyfriend’s little sister wanted to make up for how her brother treated you, and it was laughable in the worst way.

You were pulled from your thoughts by the sound of the hallway bathroom door opening, and you sharply inhaled as you almost quite literally ran into the last person you ever expected to see in the Cameron household. Now, you understood why Sarah had been worriedly eyeing the stairs as she asked if Rafe was home.

JJ Maybank looked just as startled to see you, but he recovered quicker than you did.

“Sorry,” you rushed out, breaking eye contact and moving to get past him.

You slowed when you recalled your brief glance at his face, guilt eating at you at the bruising that was still faint around the area of his nose. Briefly pressing your fingers to your forehead, you turned around, a little shocked to find the blond already staring at you. That discovery gave you pause, but you quickly pushed it aside.

“I’m sorry, by the way.”

You watched him raise his brows at you, but JJ otherwise said nothing, and so you elaborated.

“About your nose,” you told him, and JJ nodded in understanding. “Sure, you were being…a bit of a jerk, but Rafe shouldn’t have done that.”

At your words, you watched something flicker over his features, and the corner of his lips curved upwards just enough to be noticeable.

“You thought I was being an asshole,” he pointed out, and you snorted.

“I didn’t say that-.”

“…but it’s what you meant,” he slowly interrupted, stepping towards you.

You took note of the action, frowning a bit before glancing away.

You knew that Rafe would throw you down the stairs for even looking at JJ Maybank, let alone having a full-blown conversation with him, but the polite manner in which you’d been raised wouldn’t let you walk by the guy without saying anything in reference to Rafe’s behavior that night. Choosing to let the conversation die, you sighed.

“I just wanted to apologize for how he acted. That’s all.”

You gave him a strained smile before turning away, pausing when he spoke.

“You know, your boyfriend’s a bit of an asshole too.”

You tensed for half a second before turning to face him, stomach twisting at that mocking curve to his lips. Blinking, you wondered how to respond to that.

“That’s your opinion.”

“One you agree with,” he argued with a slow smile, studying your face as he pulled his lip between his teeth. “I can tell. You think he’s an asshole too. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t be apologizing on his behalf.”

Maybe it was because Rafe took JJ’s actions that night out on you, but you actually felt yourself getting irritated.

“I wouldn’t have to apologize for anything if you hadn’t been trying to provoke him. We all know what he’s like, and you two don’t exactly have the best history,” you shrugged.

The other man didn’t respond right away, simply leaning against the wall with one hand shoved into his pocket. You felt a little self-conscious the longer he stared at you, doubly so when his blue gaze lowered. Having expected no one outside of immediate family to be in the house, you were only sporting one of Rafe’s shirts. It came down to your knees, but in front of JJ, you might as well had been wearing a thong.

It's how Rafe would see it, anyway.

“Is that what you do?”

At your blink of confusion, he continued.

“When he’s being…well…Rafe, do you tell yourself that’s just how he is and you know what he’s like and so you should know better?”

JJ’s words struck a nerve, more than he’d ever know, and you glanced away. You guessed that your silence was answer enough, and when you looked back to him, he was nodding to himself.

“Sounds to me like you need a better boyfriend,” he told you with an amused smile, shrugging at you.

Realizing that this conversation went far beyond what you intended, you chose not to dignify that with a response. You could still feel the heat of his gaze as you walked to Rafe’s room, and when you paused with your hand on the knob, you glanced up to catch his eye. JJ hadn’t moved, at all, simply opting to stare at you, blond hair messy in a way that Rafe’s would never be.

You recalled what Rafe said about JJ being trouble, and it was only then did you consider he might be trouble in a way you hadn’t thought about before. When the sound of Sarah’s voice traveled upstairs, JJ’s name in the air, only then did he glance over his shoulder, and you took that opportunity to lock yourself inside of your boyfriend’s room.

#jj maybank x reader #dark!jj maybank x reader #dark!jj maybank #jj maybank #obx imagine #rafe cameron x reader #dark!rafe cameron #obx fanfiction #jj maybank fanfiction #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron #dark!rafe cameron x reader #outer banks #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks imagine

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restinslices · 24 days

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Can I request a scenario where the lin kuei brothers, after rescuing the reader from an enemy who was torturing the reader, react to the hijacked!reader(idk, if you read/watched the hunger games especially mockingjay, if you didn't then hijacking in hunger games is a form brainwashing involving the venom of tracker-jackers(mutated wasps whose venom can cause hallucinations and can painfully kill a person) to alter the memories of a person in a negative manner), who reacts violently towards them and bring afraid of them, calling them a monster and verbally berating them.

I haven’t seen those movies in years but I watched some videos and looked at the wiki so I hope I got it right! I also added a Drabble for everyone as a “my bad” cause I took so long.

Also it is 5:09pm. The danger time (look at previous post. Weather shit) is until 7pm. I’m hoping we stay fine but bitch it’s raining and I hear thunder and saw lightning. Send help😭

Bitch I’m proof reading and my lights flickered-

Anger is much easier and better to feel than sadness or grief, so he forces himself to feel that instead

The second he realizes that you've been taken by enemies, he's in a rage

He's visibly more angry and harsh towards everyone

He hardly sleeps or lets himself relax because that means he's not looking for you

Someone could take a break to sit and he's asking why they aren't doing anything to help

Once you're found he's relieved and wants to see you immediately

All that stress slips from his shoulders when he sees that you're alive and safe

That stress is immediately dumped back on his shoulders when instead of pulling him into a hug, you run at him and wrap your hands around his throat

As you can imagine, he has no problem pushing you off, but he's thrown so off guard because why would he ever expect you to attack him?

You don't come to your senses and his confusion rises when you attack him again by jumping on him and trying to strangle him again

If you weren't trying to murder him, he'd be impressed with how you hang on despite how many times he's hit you

Having to knock you out takes a lot out of him mentally. I mean, come on y'all. You were missing for so long and instead of hugging and loving each other when you finally saw each other, you attacked him like a wild animal and he actually had to defend himself

When he's told what Hijacking is, all that anger comes back

Some sick fuck took you from him, tortured you in various ways and managed to change your memories to something negative. How could he not be angry? They destroyed you with such precision. It was sick.

Bi-Han is advised not to see you again. Anyone could guess that he wouldn't listen

He had hope that maybe you just needed rest, but that didn't seem to work

You forgot you were strapped down and tried to run at him again. You fussed with your straps in an attempt to get free and yelled in frustration

Bi-Han doesn't know what to say. In an attempt to comfort you, he says “we'll fix you”

“There's always something wrong with me, isn't there?” You sneered with resentment.

He kept talking to you and it seemed like no memory was left safe. Every single memory was tainted. The image of him was tainted. Why? Why did this have to happen to someone as kind as you? Why not to him? Or, as dick head-ish it sounded, a random Lin Kuei member?

All his efforts go to finding a way to reverse it. And I can see him being angry at Liu Kang because he can't reverse it. It fuels a resentment he already holds for him

“Grandmaster, I have been instructed to not let you in this room” a Lin Kuei member said in his best stern voice. Bi-Han didn't have time for this. He had just been informed that somehow Liu Kang couldn't save you, which made absolutely no sense to him. Liu Kang, this powerful god that created the universe itself couldn't fix this one person in the universe? Someone who deserved to be saved the most out of everyone?

“Your Grandmaster didn't give you this order, did I?”. The Lin Kuei swallowed hard and tried to stammer something out, but Bi-Han pushed him out the way and went inside the formally blocked room.

You looked over at him, still with hate in your eyes. Your brows were low, your mouth in a deep frown, your arms and legs strapped to the bed. Your face was less bruised than it was when you first arrived, so he guessed he was thankful for that.

“You look like shit” you said.

“I've been worried about you” he answered honestly.

“Bullshit. You lie. You always lie”

“Who told you that?” he stepped closer to you although he knew he shouldn't. “Our enemies made you think this. They lied to you. They tortured you because they knew it'd hurt me. Because I love you”. He wasn't sure he's loved anyone as much as he loves you. But you wouldn't believe him. You kept saying he was lying and you had no idea how much it killed him to see you, but not have you.

You stared at him blankly while thinking. You smirked at him and motioned for him to come even closer. He didn't though. The various wounds he had kept him from keeping hope of you changing.

“Do you think your father let out a sigh of relief when he realized he was dying and getting away from you? Your mother as well? Being around you is the worst torture imaginable and I can't wait until I'm set free too”.

Kuai Liang vows that he'll find and bring you back home no matter what

He's also uneasy and on edge the entire time

No stone is left unturned. He's checking every possible area and is suspicious of everyone

He knows you'll have some sort of trauma, so when you're found, he tries to give you space

Just enough time for doctors to look you over

When he visits you the last thing he expects is for you to do is scream and try to get away from him

He tries to get closer to you and comfort you but you keep screaming and accusing him of trying to hurt you

He's confused. He would never do such a thing to you. He hardly even play fought with you because he was so worried about him accidentally hurting you

You keep clinging to the doctors and yelling at him to stay away

He just doesn't understand how something like this can happen. He keeps trying to comfort you but you're terrified of him

He has to be dragged out because he doesn't wanna leave at all

When he's told what's happened to you he's confused how this is even possible and he wonders if he can ever get you back

It's not necessarily just “I want my partner back”. It's also “they didn't deserve to have their light taken away”

You stay terrified of him so he tries to stay away from you

He checks in when you're sleep and he peeks at you when you're not paying attention

A two way mirror is a way to watch you as well

Honestly he'd rather have you angry at him than afraid of him

You look so broken and shaken and it's killing him

The same way he vowed to find you is the same way he vows to save you

Meanwhile he has other people talk to you for him. He's trying to see if maybe someone else can make you realize that he's not some monster that you've been brainwashed to believe

It doesn't seem to work, but he keeps trying. He refuses to give up on you.

Kuai Liang was warned that this could possibly be a bad idea, but he didn't care. What was he supposed to do? Not try? Just let you sit and rot? No. Maybe he didn't have any magical abilities that could cure you, but he could still try.

He watched through the 2 way mirror as Tomas approached you. You were a lot nicer to him and more comfortable around him. As bad as it sounded, it made him feel awful that Tomas was your comfort instead of him.

Tomas tried to ease you into a conversation about Kuai Liang and he watched you tense and sit up. Did you think he was going to rush in and attack you? No. There had to be some parts of you still in there.

“Kuai Liang isn't a bad person. You've been lied to-”

“He killed your family”.

Tomas cleared his throat, uncomfortable. “Kuai Liang was too young to-”

“They’re all killers!” You snapped. “They'll kill me! He'll kill me! Did he send you in here to weaken me?!” You looked around the room in fear and Kuai Liang stupidly ran in there to comfort you as a reflex.. He realized his mistake when he caught your eye and you fell out of your bed trying to get away.

“HE'S HERE!” You screeched like a banshee and crawled to the farthest wall. “HE'S HERE! HE'S HERE!”. Tomas gripped Kuai Liang’s shoulders and pushed him away. He knew he shouldn't have been in there, but a part of him still fought back against the younger man.

“GET AWAY! GET AWAY FAST! HE'S HERE! HE'S HERE! HE'LL HURT ME!” You kept screaming and clawed at your face.

Tomas closed the door in Kuai Liang’s face with a remorseful look. The man stayed there and listened to you scream and destroy things around you. He didn't move or cover his ears. He deserved to listen. It was his punishment for not finding you in time.

This is gonna sound bad, but when you go missing, he already assumes you're dead

Hope for the best but prepare for the worst type shit

He's no stranger to death and obviously he doesn't WANT you to be dead, but he prepares himself for if that's the case

Don't think he's not searching tho. He’s always looking for you. He's not even eating

When they find you he's so relieved

He has the doctors tell him how you are because as much as he wants to see you, he knows he gotta let them do their job

He feels so bad because all the reports he's getting are terrible. Each bruise he's told about shatters him

He brings flowers when he's finally allowed to visit you

When you attack him he's thrown completely off guard

He doesn't even really defend himself at first because he's never had to defend himself from you

At first he thinks you're angry with him because he failed to protect you. When he's told what really happened, he wished it was the first one instead

He blames himself for not protecting you, so he'd understand that

You being tortured and your memories being toyed with? It was terrible. He'd say he wished the tables were turned and he was tortured, but he'd never want you to feel how he feels

He keeps trying to communicate with you but you keep screaming and trying to kill him

Honestly he'd deal with all of that without any complaints. He just keeps being told it's not a good idea and not good for your recovery

The insults, the foul language, the physical attacks, none of it hurts as much as the knowledge that there's a possibility he won't get you back

He has gifts sent to you but never says it's from him

He has old pictures sent to you too hoping that it'll spark something

He'll keep trying to save you even if it kills him

Tomas’ heart thumped hard and rapidly in his chest as he walked to your room, bouquet in hand. He knew flowers wouldn't solve whatever happened to you, but he hoped it'd cheer you up somewhat. He had finally been allowed to visit you after what felt like forever and while he wasn't happy to see how bad you looked, he was happy to see you alive.

He pushed the door open and your frame came into view. Bandages covered the bruises on your face and body, but thankfully you had showered since you arrived. He hoped feeling clean gave you a sense of relief or peace. He just hoped you felt better.

You saw Tomas and your brows furrowed- no. That couldn't be. You wouldn't look at him like… nah.

“Tomas?” You said.

“It's me”. He turned to set the flowers down and immediately heard people yelling your name. He turned, scared he'd see you having some sort of medical complication. What he didn't expect was to feel you shove him against the wall then onto the ground.

“MUTT! POISONOUS MUTT!”. He screamed as he felt something pierce his shoulder. It was a scissor. He hadn't even seen you grab it. How were you that fast and why were you doing this?

“Stop!” he shouted. You stared at him with loathing and hatred, which was something he couldn't wrap his head around. He winced when you pulled the scissor out.

He blocked you from stabbing him in the chest. You looked angered and pushed on your hand to try and stab him. “What's wrong with you?” he whispered, his eyes wide in fright.

The scissor was ripped from your hand and you were pulled off him by multiple doctors and others who heard the commotion. He got to his feet and watched as you kept trying to break free from their grip.

“MUTT! POISONOUS MUTT!” You repeated. “HE KILLED HIS FAMILY! HE'LL LEAD US TO OUR DEMISE! POISON! TOXIC!I HAVE TO KILL HIM!” You screeched and kept struggling. He held his bloodied shoulder in disbelief.

What had happened to you?

Once again, apologies it took so long. My writing break was timed POORLY

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