#bullet for my valentine absolutely killed it! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

irrlicht-writes · 6 months

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scribbles on your spine

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The light of the moon shines right into the small of the alleyway and Vox whimpers. He stares at Alastor’s back, and the demon’s head twitches, turning back around. The bullet had hit him right straight through the eye, and blood is pouring out of the socket. There’s blood on his shining yellow teeth, and it’s dropping down his chin onto his shoulders and chest.

“Little fool,” Alastor croons in a deep, warbling voice, “do you want me to kill you?” | When promises were made, years and years apart, sometimes it's worth remembering what those promises were for. And when they dance again, in a hall full of light, they might just tear each other apart.

Vox is staring at the calendar as if it’s somehow going to solve the problem for him. February is fast approaching, and with it, Valentine’s Day. He’s not sure what to do. Are he and Alastor an item? They’ve kissed, sure, but they’ve done little else... well, what happened in the studio non-withstanding. Vox still blushes when he thinks about that. He’d like a repeat.

Regardless, he’s getting distracted. Valentine’s Day. What the fuck is he going to do – is he going to do anything? What if Alastor will do something? Fuck, if only one of them were a girl, then this wouldn’t be so complicated. But Alastor is a girl, right? He’s got all the girl skills. Vox isn’t actually sure what girl skills actually are, but Alastor for sure got them, right? Cooking, cleaning, sewing, that sort of shit. And! And he has gossip parties with Rosie, doesn’t he? So yeah. Alastor is the girl. While Vox is the man. With all the man skills. Like. Like, uh. He’s surely got some deeply buried, manly man skills. Yup. Absolutely. Vox the Man, at your service.

Fucking hell.

Back to the damn point!

Valentine’s Day.

What the fuck is he gonna do?

Does Alastor even want to be wined and dined? Not that Vox can even afford that shit. What about flowers? Chocolate? Does Alastor even like chocolate? Can deer eat chocolate? What if he doesn’t like it? Gods fucking damn it. He curls up in his bed and hugs his pillow tight.

Alastor likes singing, and he likes dancing. That at least Vox knows. So maybe a trip to the club? But that hardly feels appropriate for Valentine’s Day. And does Alastor even like going to clubs? He’s never mentioned going to any before. Vox groans into his bedding. This had been easier when he had been alive. He really had to pull the baddest bitch in town in Hell, didn’t he?

If at least the bad bitch were uncomplicated...!

“Gods, you’re my last hope, I beg of you!”

Yesterday, Vox had shyly asked Rodriguez for advice. He hadn’t specified who his paramour was but judging by the man’s more than tired look, he had known. He’d also said fuck you in nice, flowery words. And then the asshole had walked away. Rodriguez was the rudest, useless assholes Vox had the misfortunate to know. He had definitely not run after him in tears, begging him for help. Nope. He would never, he’s a man.

And right now, in front of him, are sitting Husk and Niffty. He’d been lucky to get them both at the house while Alastor had been away. Niffty is chugging her coffee like it’s a sport – she’s on cup five already – and Husk looks like he just got rumpled out of sleep, although the grumpy look is definitely a staple for him anyway.

“I find that hard to believe,” Husk says and looks at his coffee. He’s complained about not being able to get whiskey – they are at a café, for fuck’s sake, they don’t serve fucking alcohol also it’s bloody midday!

“You know him better than I. Husk, please, just tell me what I can get him for Valentine’s. We’re... together, or something. And – and he’s the girl, so I have to get him a gift, but I don’t even know if he likes chocolate!”

“No,” Husk answers instinctively. “Wait, Alastor’s the girl?”

“Alastor’s not a girl!” Niffty pipes up. “He’s the bestest bad boy I know! Hey! I need another coffee!”

“No, Niff, you don’t need more coffee. Anyway – no, Red doesn’t like chocolate. He’ll eat it, but he doesn’t like sweets. And, Vox, I – I don’t think he cares about Valentine’s. So, don’t stress about it? If you really wanna do something – shit, I dunno. Also, what the fuck you mean when you say Red’s the girl?”

Vox whimpers and lets his face fall onto the table. He doesn’t know what to do! Ugh, he’s a terrible boyfriend. Is he even a boyfriend? Gods, why is this so complicated? Getting married had been simpler than this shit. He’s lucky to not have hair, he surely would’ve turned grey already.

“What do I do,” he whimpers against the table, his one and only friend in this hellscape.

“Pay the fucking coffee bill,” Husk says and Vox slumps.

He needs friends that are useful.

Later that day, Vox sits on the low wall, staring off into space. Somewhere above him is a transmitter mast, and he can hear Alastor broadcasting. He’s not really listening to the words – it’s early afternoon, and that’s when Alastor is running most of his cooking advice or actual skits. Speaking of, maybe he could cook for Alastor...? Well, yeah, he could do that, if he never wants to see the demon ever again.

Most storefronts are decorated in pink hearts and whatever else is considered cute. So, the easy solution is out: no chocolate for the radio demon. What about flowers? Maybe some nice, red roses? But – that feels so basic. Alastor is special, and so Vox should do something special. But what? Okay, let’s think; what does Alastor like?

He likes radio. He likes blood. He likes murder. He likes carnage. He likes Vox – probably.

Vox pulls a face. That’s not exactly a list he can do much with. Sure, maybe he could try to buy him a radio, but – it’s likely Alastor would already have it, no? And sure, Vox could try and import stuff from the living world, but he doesn’t have enough money for that and the demon is severely allergic against things that are younger than he is.

Vox sighs and hugs his legs.

Even after all this time, it’s jarring how similar Hell is. They celebrate the same holidays as back topside, and money is still a ruler over everyone. If something can get exploited monetarily, then it will be. Vox doesn’t really mind, but it sure as fuck stresses him out. Maybe he should just buy the demon a card. Something like bee mine or something, but instead something with a deer pun. You’re deerest to me, or some corny shit like that. But that would hardly be special, wouldn’t it? Anyone could do that. Vox wants to be different. He wants to be special.

But – how?

“You’re kinda pathetic, you know?”

Vox blinks, and looks up to see Maggie standing there. Huh. He hadn’t really expected her.

“Leave me alone,” he murmurs and hugs his knees tighter. He wants to sulk.

“Roddie said you got Valentine’s problems. Why? Flowers ain’t good enough?”

“No!”

Maggie rolls her eyes and sits down next to him.

“Why not? Creepy fucker would like ‘em, no? I hear he’s tryna to be a gentleman, or somethin’. And why don’t you think he’s gonna get you something?”

Vox blushes. He’s really obvious, isn’t he? But well, how could he not? Alastor is everything, and he doesn’t quite understand why he’s alone in this – not that he minds, he really doesn’t want to share, and he’s afraid that in a straight-up battle he’d lose pathetically. So maybe nobody sharing his viewpoint is a good thing.

“I want it to be special. Only thing I could do that’s different is organise a murder fest, but how the fuck would I do that? Like, walk up to someone and be like Yo wanna get slaughtered by the radio demon as a Valentine’s present? Yeah, no.”

Maggie hums, and kicks her legs a little. It’s kind of nice, Vox supposes, that she stopped. She didn’t have to, but she did.

“If it were reversed,” she says then, “what would you hope for?”

Vox looks at her and thinks. If Alastor were to give him a gift for Valentine’s... honestly, he’d be happy with anything, as long as Alastor were the one giving it. But it’s different for him. Vox knows he’s more in love with the demon than the demon is in love with him; if Alastor is really in love with him at all. But he feels dumb saying that. And to Maggie, of all people, not that it matters much.

“I dunno,” he settles on, then, because he doesn’t want to leave her hanging. “Maybe something that shows he thought about it for more than a moment.”

Maggie nods, seemingly lost in thought a bit. “You know,” she continues, “if it were me, I think I’d want something that reminds me of him. You know? Like, I’d look at it years down the road, and I’d still remember who it’s from, even if we’re not together anymore. A nice memory, no matter what happens, you know? Something to prove that there had been someone, even if it’s no longer true.”

Befuddled, he looks at her. Huh, that’s actually kind of profound. Something that’ll always show you were there, once, even if you’re not any longer. Sure, Vox won’t ever leave Alastor’s side, but he likes the poetics behind the statement.

“Can’t you be this profound when we shoot our fucking movies?”

Maggie laughs, and punches him in the arm.

“I could be,” she chuckles, “if the scripts were good. See you later, Vox. Don’t think too hard, yeah? I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

She hops down the wall and saunters away. Vox looks after her for a bit, before he directs his gaze onto the pavement. What could he do, that is unique to him, that would remind Alastor of him for years to come? He touches his face. He has an idea, but he doesn’t know if it’ll work. He could just try it. What’s the worst that could happen? But he needs help with it. He hopes Alastor is still out. He slides down the wall, and makes his way to his destination.

He’s lucky.

Alastor is still out.

“Yeah, I can do that,” Niffty says. “How big do you want it?”

“Not big,” Vox replies, “It just needs to fit something of this size into it, so it’ll need a zipper or something in the back.”

He shows Niffty with his fingers, and she gets paper to draw a line on it. “Is it okay if I need a week?”

He nods. “Yeah, sure, don’t worry about it. I need to make the thing first, anyhow. And thanks for helping me, Niffty. What can I give you in return?”

Niffty taps a finger against her chin, thinking hard. “Nothing! It’s for Alastor, so it’s okay. He always finds the best bugs for me, and lets me do my puppet shows. I like him a lot! And don’t worry, I won’t tell him. He usually doesn’t care what I do in my free time.”

Vox breathes a sigh of relief. That’s good to hear. He’ll still think of something to do for Niffty – he can’t really do his plan without her, after all. Maybe some energy drinks supply, or something. She seems to be finding bugs and bad boys on her own well enough – such an odd combination.

“My my, is that a bunny I spy?”

Vox doesn’t shriek, really, he doesn’t, when Alastor speaks up behind him. Fucking hell, he hadn’t heard the door open.

“H-hey, Allie,” he croaks like a frog and turns his head, looking at the demon over his shoulder. Behind him is Husk, holding grocery bags. It surprises Vox every time, seeing the demon be so domestic he goes and buys groceries like a regular motherfucker.

Husk drags himself in the direction of the kitchen, clearly thrilled with his current situation in life.

“I wasn’t aware you’d be visiting, dear. Will you be staying for dinner? I was told a new recipe I simply must try out.”

The demon swings his cane around and pats Niffty on the head absent-mindedly. He doesn’t even seem to notice and fuck, Vox is in love. He looks up at Alastor, smiling like the fool he is.

“Yeah, I’d like to. I’d really like to stay.”

I’d really like to stay forever.

Vox doesn’t really have much space in his home, but he makes do. In life, he’s liked to tinker a fair amount, so he’s feeling pretty confident. He’s got no idea if Alastor will actually like his gift, but – maybe in the end, the thought is what counts most. And boy, did Vox think about this. Even if this turns out to be a failure, he can always look back and say he’s tried his best. But it won’t. It won’t be a failure, it’ll be a huge success. Holding his trusty screwdriver in hand, Vox smiles.

He looks out the window. Dinner at Husk’ house had been an experience, and Vox is eager to repeat it.

“It tastes like garbage!”

“Now, you’re just saying that because I didn’t put the cheese in. You know how terrible you react to cheese, Husker! Vox, dear, what do you think?”

“Hey, that ain’t fair! Of course he’s gonna take your side! No, we need someone neutral and the only neutral party here is me, so I’m fucking right! Give me the cheese!”

“Bushwa! How in the hells are you neutral on this stance? I shall in fact eat all the cheese myself!”

“You won’t fucking dare!”

Yeah, it had been funny. And Vox hadn’t said it then, but yeah, cheese would’ve been better.

He laughs and presses his hands together in front of his chest. He loves the demon so. So, so much, he could explode. Gods, he wants to kiss him again. Again and again and again, until the end of time.

“Here you go. Is it okay?”

Vox takes it from Niffty’s hands and squeezes it. He smiles. “It’s perfect, Niffty, thank you. Allie didn’t see it?”

“Nuh-uh! I told you, he doesn’t care what I do in my free time! Are you giving it to him now?”

Vox shakes his head. He still has some time, and he’s unsure on where to give it to Alastor. Inviting him home feels weirdly intimate, and laden with expectations he’s unsure Alastor would be comfortable with. Not that Vox... wouldn’t want, but... he’s a considerate boyfriend, is all. Truly an angel, he is.

“Not yet. Don’t tell him, okay? I’ll do it on Valentine’s.”

Niffty smiles, posing adorably. “Okay,” she answers, “I hope everything goes well, TV man!”

She skips away and Vox holds the gift close. His heart is beating fast. He’s even picked the right song. Well, at least he hopes so. He’s gotta admit, he’s a little giddy. However, with the gift in hand, he’s rather not be caught by Alastor again – being in his house is excusable, but holding this thing? Yeah no, the demon might get curious and we can’t have that. So he starts hurrying home. Sure, he would like to see Alastor, but Valentine’s is soon.

Having arrived home, he gets to work. It’s not much left to do, but Vox takes great care in it. When he’s done, he tests it out – it would do no good if it would blow up into the demon’s face first thing he does. But it works. Sure, it’s not perfect, and it might not sound like the things you can buy, but – Vox made this himself (well, with Niffty’s help, but mostly himself!).

He hopes Alastor will like it. He really, really does.

The radio demon’s not cruel, is he?

It’s Valentine’s, and it’s early evening, almost still afternoon. Vox sits on the bench, nervous as hell – he’s wearing his good suit, one that he rarely ever puts on. Husk and Niffty had promised to get Alastor into the park at roughly this hour, and Vox needs to think of something to thank them with. He had considered wrapping his present, but he decided against it. He didn’t even put a bow on it, or anything. What if Alastor didn’t like cute, and would look at a bow with disdain? No, no, best to play it safe. Best option would probably be to toss that thing at Alastor’s head from a distance, yell something vaguely romantic and run for the fucking hills before the demon would even get what was going on at all.

“Oh! Are you the surprise Husker mumbled about?”

Vox’s breath hitches in his throat. Looking to the side, nervous as hell, he can see Alastor stroll over. He looks like he always does – of course he does, why would he look any different? Before the demon can reach the bench, Vox jumps to his feet, hiding his gift behind his back. He feels like a little boy.

“I – I, uh – yes, I am!”

Alastor stops two steps in front of him and tilts his head.

“Whatever are we meeting in the park for? You know where my house is. If you want to look at the roses, they’re best enjoyed around midday! They are also free to take, in case you wish to decorate.”

Vox takes a deep breath. Husk said that Alastor doesn’t care much about Valentine’s, so he’s probably unaware. That’s okay, Vox is hyper-aware for both of them.

“It’s Valentine’s Day!”

Alastor had turned his head towards the rosebushes, and now he looks back at Vox, blinking confused.

“It is? My, time sure does fly, does it not? I’m unsure as to what importance it is, though. Is it... your birthday?”

Bless his heart, he sounds truly confused. Vox can’t help but smile. He’d been so nervous these past few days, but standing here now, with Alastor, he can feel it all melt away, like it never even mattered. If Alastor won’t like his gifts – that would be okay. He’s here. He’s here. That’s all that matters.

“I have a gift for you,” he says, calm for the first time in days, “for Valentine’s.”

He holds his hands outward and Alastor blinks, taking it. In his claws, he holds a small plush TV that Niffty made. Curiously, the demon turns it. He looks at Vox then, clearly waiting for some more information.

“It’s, uh, it’s –“ Okay, now he’s nervous again. “Here, if you press it – try pressing it, gently.”

Blinking, confused but ever so cute, Alastor squeezes the little plush toy and then You’re Never Fully Dressed Without A Smile starts playing. Surprised, Alastor holds the plush closer, and his ears twitch – gods Vox wants to lick them.

“You like that song, right? I – Niffty helped me with sewing that toy –“

“I see,” the demon interrupts Vox’s attempts at rambling, and he turns the toy over. “How does it work?”

Eager, Vox steps forward and opens the plush TV. He points to the device he’s put in there – whenever the pressure point is pressed enough, the song starts playing, and it runs on battery, so it’s easily exchangeable.

“Do you – do you like it?”

Alastor hums, squeezing the toy again. Then he looks at his cane.

“I do,” he admits, “but I can play the song myself. Can you change the song the device plays?”

Vox deflates a little – he should’ve thought about that. Alastor is a radio host, after all, of course he would have access to all his favourite songs on demand. But hey, the thought still counts, doesn’t it?

“I – yes, I can,” damn his voice for sounding so detached, “what song would you like?”

Alastor looks at him, and smiles. “Yours.”

Vox blinks, confused. Huh? “Huh?”

“I can play any song I want with my microphone. What I can’t do,” he says, voice sultry sweet, “is have you sing it for me.”

Vox can’t breathe. Did he really – did he – for real? He – he hadn’t even thought about that. Vox isn’t a singer, not really, but – Alastor – he – he really – gods. Oh fuck, he’s so in love.

“You – you really want me to sing it?”

“Yes,” affirms Alastor, still smiling. “Whichever song you please, as long as you sing it. Can you do that?”

Vox wants to fuck him, he wants to kiss him, he wants to marry him.

“Yes,” Vox breathes and he takes the toy when Alastor hands it back. He can’t look away from the demon.

“Thank you for the gift,” the radio demon croons, “I look forward to receiving it.”

He brushes his fingers along Vox’s face, and Vox whimpers. He’s behaving like a fucking teenager, but he can’t fucking stop.

“Come,” Alastor says, unbothered, “let me invite you to drinks. A new bar has opened up, and I had planned to visit it with dear Husker sometime, but your company is much more pleasant! Come, come!”

Without waiting, he stalks on ahead and Vox only has time to stuff the toy into his bag before he runs after him.

The bar they go to is actually kind of fancy, not the usual garbage clubs Vox tends to visit. There’s even a stage, and a singer is performing. Well, at least Vox isn’t underdressed, even if these people aren’t his, well, people.

“Allie, I don’t think I fit in here. They’re all fancy and stuff.”

Vox presses against Alastor’s arm, his only shield against all the looks he surely must be getting.

“Bushwa! If they have a problem with you, they might dare and come to me. No, no, dear sheik, worry not your pretty square head. Come, let us try out the drinks. If they are bad, I mustn’t bring Husker here at all, ha!”

They wander over to the bar and Vox only really felt safe if he was physically pressed against the demon. Luckily, Alastor seems not to mind.

“Hello, my good man! Give us your best quilt, now will you?”

The barkeep just grunts, and complies.

“Shall we make it a competition, dear? Whoever of us can drink more?”

Vox pouts. “What do I get if I win?”

“So focused! If you win, love, then I might be persuaded to sleep in your bed tonight.”

“Get us all the drinks!”

Alastor laughs and Vox desperately tries to drink straight from the bottle. He can drink that twig under the table!

He, in fact, could not drink that twig under the table. Alastor is a fucking bottomless barrel. Like, seriously, where is storing all that alcohol? Vox can barely walk straight, and the only effect on Alastor seems to be a slight blushing of his cheeks. It’s fucking adorable, but that’s not the point!

“You should’ve said you can drink like you bein’ paid for it.”

Alastor laughs, a clear sound in the night. “I don’t recall you asking, darling. Never take a bet if you don’t know all the relevant factors. I’m win-orientated!”

An asshole, is what he is. An asshole Vox is sadly madly in love with.

“So, what did you win, exactly?”

The demon gives him a side-eye, smirking only.

“Why, I won my right to sleep wherever I want tonight! Also, of course, I won you, didn’t I?”

Before Vox can fully comprehend that sentence – he is drunk, after all – Alastor pushes him against the wall and presses himself along Vox’s body. Vox’s breath hitches and he’s blushing, not just because of the alcohol. It’s dark, and Alastor is so pretty. Vox wants him. He just fucking wants him so much. He bites his lip, and stares into the red eyes before him.

He wants to – he loves him. He wants to say it, but he doesn’t dare. Why not? It’s Valentine’s. Now’s the day he should be able to say it. But something stops him. Vox whimpers and puts his hands on Alastor’s waist – it’s so tiny, so thin and Vox presses against the body before him.

“Cash,” Vox doesn’t beg, because he’s a man and men don’t beg. Alastor curls his lip in a snarling smile and reaches forward, slow, always too slow. Vox opens his mouth in advance, waiting, eagerly waiting and he smell Alastor’s rancid breath already when voices sound from the corner.

“You the radio demon?”

Oh, Vox hates them and wants them to die.

Alastor turns his head towards the voices, but he hardly removes himself from the position he’s in. His upper lip is curled in the grimace of a smile and he blinks slowly.

“So sorry, gents, I’m not on air at the moment. If you have song requests, please keep them to yourselves.”

“Nah, you fucker, we’re here to beat you up.”

Alastor sighs and rolls his eyes. “Really,” he grumbles, only to Vox, “can’t they tell I’m busy?”

That’s him! That’s Vox! Vox is busy!

But he does push away from the nice position they’ve been in and he fully turns to the sinners that have started coming closer.

“Let’s do this quickly, then. Seven against one! It’s not like I stand a chance. My, what a bind I’m in! Whatever shall I do, woe be upon me.”

He’s undermining his own words by focusing on the dirt under his fingernails. He’s so fucking silly, Vox loves him. However, the sinners seem to take courage from it, as they begin to advance more quickly. Sobering up faster than Vox ever thought to be possible, he pushes himself from the wall, ready to stand with the demon.

“Hush, my love. Don’t get in the way. Stand there and look pretty, will you?”

The sinners are close now, and Alastor snaps his head around with a loud crack. It echoes in the alleyway they’re in and Vox – he expects to see something like he saw at the gala, but he doesn’t. Instead, Alastor rushes forward, faster than Vox even knew was possible and he lands exactly in the middle of the intruders. With black hands and claws, he swipes through the air, ripping two people in half. Blood splatters onto the ground and the other five shriek in terror, and they separate.

Alastor grins wide, more smile than anything else, and there’s blood on his cheek. Without missing a beat, he jumps after another two, smashing their heads against the nearby wall. They burst open like ripe watermelons. One of the remaining three finally fumbles out his gun, and he aims at Alastor with shaking hands. Vox gasps when he hears the shot – Alastor’s head jerks, and Vox wants to scream already, but the demon just laughs, deep and full on static. His head cracks back up and Vox can hear the sinner mutter a very heart-felt “fuck” before Alastor jumps him too, chomping his teeth on his head, ripping it clear off. The two that are still alive have scrambled back to the entry of the alleyway and Alastor turns his head, with the head of their, their leader, still in his mouth.

“Running already? But I’m not even done yet! Come! Come beat me up, I’m all open!”

As if to prove his point, he throws his arms to the side, laughing. The ripped off head falls to the ground with a wet sound and the sinners scream, and they run away.

Alastor turns around fully and starts stalking towards Vox – it’s only a handful of steps and Vox sinks to his knees. Alastor stops before him and he grins wide. With the moonlight behind him, he looks like he belongs exactly where he is. Vox presses his legs together, trying to get some friction. Slowly, Alastor bends over, never ever needing a spine and he grabs Vox’s face with bloody hands. He pulls Vox back up with him and slowly, too fast, slams him against the wall. There’s something fleshy moving in his eye socket and then Alastor presses himself up against Vox, kissing him. Needy, Vox whimpers and pawns at Alastor’s back, trying to press in closer. He can taste the sinner’s blood on Alastor’s tongue and he wants – he wants – it’s embarrassing, but oh gods, how he wants.

“I wanna fuck you,” he pants with hot breath against Alastor’s lips.

The demon growls in response and pushes his claws softly into Vox’s flesh. Vox’s hips buck forwards and he can’t help the wanton moan that escapes his throat.

“Hold onto me,” the demon rumbles in a low tone and he doesn’t need to say that twice. Desperate for his mouth again, Vox presses back in, kissing him again, wrapping his arms around the man’s shoulders, fisting his hands into his hair.

It’s dark, then, and something feels cold and wrong, and when Vox opens his eyes, they’re in his shoebox. How did they – what - but Alastor pushes him back, onto the bed behind him. Vox catches himself on his elbows and he stares up. Half of Alastor’s face is smeared in blood, his eye is still a bloody, fleshy mess, and he tears his bowtie off.

“Undress to your liking.”

Vox must black out for a moment, but when he comes back to himself, he starts tearing his clothes off. He’s not gonna ask, and he’s gonna take it. This wasn’t how Vox had suspected today to go. And still, he’s a little insecure, so – he leaves his underwear on. Shyly, he glances up at the demon – he’s gotten rid of his bowtie, his suit jacket and his shoes, apparently. Well, Vox never thought he’d get to see Alastor’s shirt this clearly, although it is a bit of a shame.

The demon climbs on top of Vox, and presses him into the mattress. “Little sheik,” he croons with a voice as smooth as silver, “displease me, and I’ll rip you apart. But, you would like that, wouldn’t you?”

Teasingly, he strokes a sharp, bloody claw along Vox’s throat and he whimpers. Yes. Yes, he would like that, actually. Alastor bends forward, and licks his tongue along Vox’s neck and he shivers. Instinctively, he spreads his legs and Alastor slots himself right in, as if he belongs there and gods – the things it does to Vox’s head. Sharp teeth tease at his Adam’s apple and he – he wants. He wants Alastor to push his teeth in, rip it out and swallow it down. Fuck, fuck, what in the hells is wrong with him?!

The demon sits back up again, still smiling. With his thumb, he wipes away some blood on his cheek and holds it close to Vox’s face – so close, and yet too far to lick it clean. Vox wants. He wants to lick it clean. The demon shuffles back and blindly, Vox follows. Alastor lets himself fall back onto the mattress, and Vox follows, hovering over him. He’s out of breath already.

Smiling like a cat, Alastor reaches his hand up, pushing his thumb into the corner of Vox’s mouth. But before he can properly start sucking and licking it, Alastor pulls him down and shoves his tongue between Vox’s teeth. He moans and shivers and he leans down, lets his body fall onto Alastor’s and he responds to the kiss with wild abandon. The demon’s dainty legs sling themselves around Vox’s hips and Vox could die right now and wouldn’t regret a thing. Well, maybe he wants to get off first, but that’s a secondary objective here.

Pulling his thumb out of his mouth, Alastor wraps his arms around Vox’s neck and pulls him impossibly closer. Vox rakes his fingers on his bedding, shredding his blanket but he doesn’t care. Heart beating up to his ears, he starts to grind forwards, fully expecting to be shoved off, to be slammed against the wall and threatened within an inch of his life and that wouldn’t be so bad either. But – Alastor doesn’t stop him. He simply shifts his legs a little and if Vox weren’t dead already, he’d surely die now.

Pushing the ball of his hand against Vox’s throat, Alastor temporarily interrupts their kiss to growl, deep and dark: “Do your worst.”

Then he pulls Vox back in, biting hard onto his tongue, and Vox rams his own claws into Alastor’s shoulders, holding him as close as he can as he starts rutting against him. He can feel the demon’s blood over his fingers and fuck, he’s getting high. His own blood pools in his mouth and he bites the demon back as good as he gets. In his mouth, their blood mixes and Vox can’t tell the taste apart anymore. He loves it. Fuck, he needs more, he needs everything.

“Allie,” he pants, desperate, “Allie, fuck, I need you, gods, I can’t –“

He starts rutting faster, and he’s expecting Alastor to stop him at any moment. But he doesn’t. He doesn’t, he doesn’t, he doesn’t.

Vox is different. He’s special, and only he gets this. Only him, only him, only him.

“Only me,” he growls, as deep as he can go, and he pushes his claws into Alastor’s throat. The demon looks up at him, with half-lidded eyes – eye, rather – and the tip of his tongue pokes out of his mouth. It’s full of blood. Vox breathes hard, tearing his claws down, leaving bloody streaks in his wake. Alastor doesn’t seem to mind and Vox roars, rutting faster, tearing his claws through the demon’s chest. He can feel Alastor’s claws scratch at the back of his neck and gods, he wants to. He wants them to kill each other in the bloodiest way.

Vox grunts and his thrusts become erratic. He’s so close, and Alastor’s legs are locked so tight around him. Gods, fuck, he doesn’t want to stop, how could he ever stop?

“Little fool,” Alastor croons in a deep, warbling voice, “do you want me to kill you?”

“Yes! Yes yes yes yes!” Vox shouts and he comes, smashing his lips against Alastor once again. The demon’s legs tighten around his hips and Vox is riding his high. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck he wants more, he needs more, he needs it again.

Pulling away, because he needs to fucking breathe, he sinks down onto the man below him, and he breathes hard next to the demon’s face. He feels cold claws trail along his spine and he moans, closing his eyes. He swallows, his throat dry as fuck. He doesn’t know what the fuck just happened. But frankly; he kind of doesn’t care. This was – fuck, this was better than he could’ve ever fucking dreamed of.

“Wait,” he pants, “did you – ?”

“Shush, sheik. Don’t push your luck.”

Vox’s heart stops for probably a little too long, but it’s okay. Fuck. He’s never expected that Valentine’s could go like this, that – that it could feel like this.

“Your eye,” he starts.

“It will be fine. Give me two days, and why, you’ll never even know it was gone at all!”

Alastor pushes him away and sits up, looking only a little rumpled. He’s bloody all over. Vox whimpers. He wants him. He wants him more than is healthy, probably, but what is he to do? He’s so gone, he’s so far gone.

“Stay here tonight. Allie – please. Just sleep next to me. I won’t touch you, but – please.”

Alastor blinks at him. He seems to contemplate the idea.

“So needy,” he comments, but falls back all the same. “I suppose you can hold my hand.”

Vox smiles, and he does. Alastor’s hand are ice-cold, and there’s blood that’s just starting to dry on them, but it’s perfect. It’s perfect and Vox – Vox wants things to never change.

In the morning, the demon is gone.

There’s a note in his stead, though: Rest well, little fool.

Vox smiles, and keeps the note close.

#hazbin hotel #writing #hazbin alastor #hazbin vox #radiostatic #fanfiction #hazbin hotel fanfic #hurt/comfort #irrlicht writes

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klaus-littlestwolf · 1 year

Text

Klaus Mikaelson Playlist

Sexy Time

I have been asked by multiple people after a previous post about Klaus Mikaelson and the song Wasp by Motionless in White to post a full playlist of songs to fuck Klaus to and I have finally gotten to posting it (I forgot🤣)

This is not necessarily all one playlist, it’s a mix of my fav songs that I want Klaus Mikaelson to Fuck me to. It has metal, pop and some country, you shouldn’t make this a playlist and press shuffle, it may cause some confusion at…ahem…inappropriate times.

Starting with my top favs

Necessary Evil- Motionless in White

Wasp- Motionless in White

Werewolf- Motionless in White

Fuck Away the Pain- Divide the Day

Sexy Drug- Falling in Reverse

Like You Never Had It- Florida Georgia Line

Love Bites- Ice Nine Kills

Would You Love a Monster Man- Lordi

Angel Eyes- New Years Day

Animals- Nickelback

Monster- Reckless Love

The rest of my list which I will hopefully add more songs to later

Undead Ahead- Motionless in White

Brand New Numb- Motionless in White

Contemptress- Motionless in White

Hate fuck- Motionless in White

Synthetic Love- Motionless in White

Eternally Yours- Motionless in White

Porn Star Dancing- My Darkest Days

Not the American Average- Asking Alexandria

Evil Angel- Breaking Benjamin

Waking the Demon- Bullet for my Valentine

Venom- Eminem

I’m Not a Vampire- Falling in Reverse

Bad Girls Club- Falling in Reverse

Good Girls Bad Guys- Falling in Reverse

Talk You Out of It- Florida Georgia Line

Take it Out on Me- Florida Georgia Line

Sarcasm- Get Scared

Blank Space (Cover)- I Prevail

Bloodbath and Beyond- Ice Nine Kills

SAVAGES- Ice Nine Kills

Stabbing in the Dark- Ice Nine Kills

Whore- In this Moment

Blood- In this Moment

Sex Metal Barbie- In this Moment

Bang Bang- Jesse J

Love the Way You Hate Me- Like a Storm

I Wanna Be Your Slave- Måneskin

Beggin’- Måneskin

Kill or be Killed- New Years Day

Something in Your Mouth- Nickelback

Burn it to the Ground- Nickelback

Hell Above- Pierce the Veil

rockstar- Post Malone

Death by Rock and Roll- The Pretty Reckless

Going to Hell- The Pretty Reckless

Body Like a Backroad- Sam Hunt

Killer in the Mirror- Set it Off

Riot- Three Days Grace

Animal I Have Become- Three Days Grace

Boss Bitch- Doja Cat

Purple Lamborghini- Rick Ross

Sucker for Pain- Lil Wayne

Wreak Havoc- Skylar Grey

Gangsta- Kehlani

You Don’t Own Me- Grace

I Wanna Be Sedated- Ramones

I’m Gonna Show You Crazy- Bebe Rexha

You Call Me a Bitch Like It’s a Bad Thing- Halestorm

Closer (cover)- Asking Alexandria

Take It From Me- Jordan Davis

Miss Murder- AFI

If you have any songs that aren’t on my list that you feel strongly about, comment and let me know. I’ll absolutely listen to them and maybe even add them to the list.

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sattlersquarry · 2 years

Note

Hi! Can you do the prompt of: "patching them up" with Jonathan Byers, please.

Absolutely, anon! Happy Valentine's Day and thank you for the request! I've never actually written for Jonathan before, so this was a nice change of pace!

This is the final request for my Valentine's/500 follower event! I may open requests generally in the future, we'll see. 👀

Word Count: ~0.9k. Jonathan Byers x Reader, this takes place in Season 4. tw for mentions of guns/violence, bleeding, and language.

Jonathan tries not to show it, but he’s mad.

Not at you. You hadn’t done anything, except come by the same day evil soldiers shot up the house. He’s mad at himself.

After him and Nancy’s amicable breakup, Jonathan wanted to keep his head down and not get involved with somebody new. But then he met you.

And today, you’d gotten hurt because of him.

“Is it still bleeding?” Jonathan says, voice and hands shaking as he digs through the glovebox of Argyle’s van. He’s searching for first-aid supplies, but all he’s found so far is weed paraphernalia and coupons for free cheesy bread with any pizza order $30 or more.

You gingerly lift a hand off your hip. You wince and nod.

“This is gonna leave a scar,” you grumble. “Right before swimsuit season, too. Just my luck.”

Earlier that day, you visited the Byers’ house to check on your boyfriend Jonathan. He pulled you past some sketchy-looking government goons and quietly explained that he, his brother Will, and their friend Mike were going to break out of their “house arrest” to find his sister, Jane. You were very confused, but Jonathan refused to give more details. He ushered you toward the door, thanked you for coming by, and assured you everything was fine.

Two seconds later, an agent got shot in the abdomen by an evil soldier. Chaos ensued.

Another agent got shot, and Jonathan led your group out to Argyle’s waiting van. Hopped up on the adrenaline from getting shot at and seeing a man die in front of you, you didn’t even realize a bullet had grazed your side until you were halfway to the junkyard.

“You still with me?”

You snap your attention back to Jonathan. While you had been replaying the events of the day in your head, Jonathan had moved to sit next to you in the backseat. He now holds a first-aid kit. His face is peaked, brow furrowed and lips pulled in a tight, thin line.

“I’m here,” you say weakly.

“Roll your shirt up,” Jonathan says. You oblige. He pops open the kit and groans.

“Geez, Argyle,” Jonathan grumbles.

The kit is barebones. It’s empty besides some alcohol wipes, Spider-Man bandaids, and a sticky note that says Argyle, don’t forget to buy more medicine shit! Peace, Argyle.

“This will sting,” Jonathan says. “I’m sorry.”

You huff out a laugh.

“Don’t apologize,” you say. “You’re not the one who shot at me, Jonny.”

Jonathan used to hate the nickname Jonny. When you say it, it’s his favorite word.

You wince and squirm as he dabs at the wound with the alcohol wipes. Jonathan mumbles out more apologies, eyes flicking from the bloodied mess on your hip to the pained look on your face.

“It’s fine, Jonny.”

You try not to think about the pain. You focus on watching Will, Mike, and Argyle through the open van doors. They dig a grave for the agent that got killed. You try not to remember how his face looked as he died.

Once the wound is sufficiently cleaned, Jonathan considers the Spider-Man bandaids before eyeing an extra Surfer Boy Pizza shirt. He begins ripping the fabric into ribbons.

“Lift your arms, okay?” Jonathan says.

You do, and he wraps the garish yellow fabric around your abdomen. He ties it, tight enough to staunch the bleeding.

“Good as new,” you say with a weak smile, pulling your shirt back down.

Jonathan doesn’t return the gesture. He looks at his shaky, bloodstained hands, unable to look you in the eye.

“I’m sorry,” he croaks. He clears his throat and, louder, adds, “This is all my fault.”

“What?” you say. “No. It isn’t.”

“Yes, it is!” he says. He runs a hand through his hair. “You’re hurt because you came to check on me.”

“I’m hurt because I came to your house at a bad time,” you correct. You gently place a hand on his cheek. He leans into the touch and closes his eyes. “It’s not your fault, Jonny.”

You’re too good, and Jonathan doesn’t deserve you. He doesn’t want to drag you into his shit, but it’s too late for that now.

“I wish we could take you back home,” Jonathan says, “but it’s not safe. Those soldier guys are definitely looking for us, and as much as I want to support the Surfer Boy lifestyle, we’re not exactly inconspicuous in this van.”

“The yellow paint must be visible from space,” you say. “Airports should use these bad boys to land planes.”

Despite the circumstances, Jonathan laughs. You always know how to make him laugh.

“You aren’t wrong,” he says, smiling for the first time since the shootout. It’s small, but it’s something, and it ebbs away some of the pain in your side.

It fades, and he sucks in a shuddery breath. You can tell he’s gearing up for something big. You reach for his hand and intertwine your fingers together.

“Listen, I really like you, and I really like being your boyfriend. But I haven’t been honest about my family and my past…”

And so he tells you everything. It’s a strange story, but you listen intently without interruptions.

When Jonathan gets to the end of the story—explaining that they have no clue where Jane/El is being held—you squeeze his hand for reassurance.

“We’ll find her,” you say. “We’ll all work together, and we’ll bring her home.”

Your tenacity, your willingness to help despite the danger, the way you’re looking at him like you truly see him—it floods Jonathan with a warmth he hasn’t felt in a while. He leans in to kiss you, until—

“Uh, brochachos? Do either of you have a pen? This one doesn’t work.”

#jonathan byers x reader #jonathan byers x gn!reader #jonathan byers fanfic #libby's valentine a palooza

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an-aura-about-you · 7 months

Text

so MY day blew absolute chunks!

under the cut for sickness both human and animal, vomit mention, family trouble, a near accident, and general unpleasantness.

-started the day kinda lazy and late since I was sick Sunday and part of Monday. ended up starting it so late that by the time I fed the cat he wolfed it down too fast and vomited it back up. :( so that was a thing I had to clean up before leaving.

-got a message from my sibling that our mother is Losing Her Goddamn Mind. what's going on is she's started drinking again, and this is apparently the final straw for Dad, who has decided a separation is in order for him to establish proper boundaries. so he and my sibbie are moving out into an apartment. so our mother swung right into angry and controlling and straight up said my sibling was "trying to steal her husband." a quick bullet list on that:

What??

Ewwwww!

NO!

WHAT??????????????

anyway, I told my sibbie they could use my spare keys to stay at my place if they like while I'm out at the office.

-leave for work with the bare minimum of what I need for the day to be okay: my laptop, lanyard, phone, headphones, cane, and half a bottle of Gatorade. I don't bring a lunch, a reusable cup, any of my herbal teas I use to make flavored water, and my money situation is so tight that buying lunch means it's going on the credit card. but at this point I'm like, "fuck it, I'll buy lunch."

-one bit of luck: at the lunch kiosk they're selling chicken gumbo, so I get a cup of that and it's not too pricey AND it tasted good. also earlier I overheard the lady who works there talkin' nice about me behind my back after I came in and wished the crew there good morning. (I pass the lunch kiosk on the way to the elevators.)

-the site to clock in and out was malfunctioning for me most of today. I had to send an email for FOUR missing punches, the most I've ever had to deal with. at least I can back up my presence with the group chat, my badging in and out of the office, and witnesses.

-I got some texts from the social committee, which was fine that they got to do the Valentine's Day treat bags for all our neighbors, but I was sad that I was too sick on Sunday and working yesterday and today, so I couldn't help put them together or pass them out. :( (I did get mine when I got home and it was very cute!)

-lunch time rolls around, so I go out to a nice coffee shop and get some tea. there was construction on my way, so I try looking into an alternate path back to the office. once I realized that path would take longer than going through the construction again, I turn around and on my way back I NEARLY GOT HIT BY A CAR TURNING LEFT INTO THE ROAD???? AND THEY HAD THE NERVE TO HONK AT ME LIKE I WASN'T SUPPOSED TO BE THERE WHEN THEY WERE THE ONE TURNING?????????

-I get some extra work tonight because even though I'm not doing my day team's banks this week, I'm learning how to hand them out AND a night team coworker had some connection issues so I had to do two of her banks.

-I also found out that the coworker who does the day team banks this week will be out tomorrow, so I WILL have to do the day team banks then.

-all after my last break, I heard my bothersome coworker talk on and on about her conservative politics, cooking info that I know from my Le Cordon Bleu background doesn't work with the science, and medical misinformation that will likely get her killed. this is the same person who has a "strongly held religious belief against wearing masks" and "believes parasites cause cancer." her latest take is that sugar causes all ills. arthritis? sugar. dementia? sugar. glaucoma? sugar. like, what????? is any of this actually proven? by a reputable source?

-when I got home I found that the cat coughed up a hairball on my comforter. :(

#aura and the terrible horrible no-good very bad day #also I'm just gonna put this in the tags right here: stop putting your flour in the refrigerator #it's not actually helping anything because to properly make your recipe you'll need to let your flour get to room temperature again #(aka the food danger zone)#and anything you're trying to kill off via the fridge will be killed off if you cook it properly #there is no purpose in putting the flour in the fridge except adding a pointless step that you'll have to reverse anyway

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dragon-snoots-a-boopin · 2 years

Photo

So I’ve finally completed my play through of Resident Evil: Revelations and now I am going to give a little what I did like and what I didn’t like. Please remember that I am going to spoil some aspects of the game so, you have been warned.

What I Liked:

It has a more horror atmosphere than certain RE games (RE5 and RE6 can suck it)

I absolutely loved the majority of the game taking place on a ship because it kind of harkens back RE1.

Yes, Jill Valentine does look pretty fine in that tight scuba outfit or whatever kind of outfit it is

Most of the puzzles were not too hard to figure out and thank goodness because some RE puzzles can go suck it.

I think the idea of finding customization parts and illegal customization parts within the game itself.

The weapon selection isn’t half bad but it is pretty limited because, well, this is an upscaled port of a Nintendo 3DS game.

I really did like the chapter layout of the game and that the chapters would have two-three sections to them. I understand this is something they probably had to do for the original Nintendo 3DS version of the game but, I think it works in general. No chapter ever felt too long or too short which is just great.

What I Didn’t Like:

The graphics are not the the greatest and definitely are telling that this game is an upscaled port of a Nintendo 3DS game.

They overuse a lot of the same basic creatures over and over. Even when they introduce a new creature they pretty much do that because it’s going to be in the rest of the game.

Some of the creatures of the typical RE creature problem of being bullet sponges, especially the hunters. Those things can go suck it.

I was not very fond of the scanning mechanic. It seemed okay at the beginning when you’d scan like four creatures to get a health item reward. However, as the game progresses, it takes more and more scans of creatures to where one creatures nets you like +1 to the scan total and it takes forever to get a health item reward. The good thing is that since I was on the easiest difficulty, I was not relying on those scan rewards.

The weapon sounds sound like they were ported from a Nintendo 3DS game so, like someone playing one drum for handguns and machine guns. Even the shotgun didn’t sound very punchy like a shotgun should.

There were some sections of the game I found to be very much like what you’d see in RE5 or RE6 which are the sections where you’re manning a minigun on a helicopter or on a boat putting a billion rounds into a giant mutant worm thing that just didn’t want to seem to die.

I absolutely hated both of the timed sections of the game. Look, game developers, I know you think you’re being smart by using countdown sections in a game because you think it makes the player think. Well, as a player, I can tell you that adding a time limit or countdown to a section just add stress and then you go and throw two mini bosses at me and I have to ignore them until I grab a rocket launcher to kill them.

I was not a fan of the final boss fight. Yeah, I died once but that’s not my issue. My issues is that the weak spot isn’t very obvious, which it typically is in the other RE games I’ve played (barring RE6 because that game can’t still suck it). That’s why I died once, because I didn’t really know how to hurt it. However, once I did figure it out, it take WAY TOO MANY shots. Like there was an ammo thing that would refill my machine gun ammo from zero to 300 and I did that like four times before the cutscenes happens where the final boss actually dies and the game is over. It was such a stupid fight.

Resident Evil: Revelations is the game that I needed to play after coming off of giving up on the total not fun game of RE6. Revelations has more horror atmosphere but, like most RE games, isn’t really scary with a bit of the action stuff that RE5 and RE6 are known for. Resident Evil: Revelations is a pretty good game that I’d recommend playing.

#video games #capcom #resident evil #resident evil revelations #horror games #zombies #nintendo #nintendo 3ds

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itsvinzenzdarling · 7 months

Note

B : BOUQUET. does your muse like flowers? which ones are their favourite? J : JEALOUSY. does your muse get jealous in a relationship? Y : YOURS. does your muse get protective easily?

Valentine's Day ask meme: accepting

B - Chrysanthemums, otherwise known as "mums," for a few reasons. 1. They're popular in the fall, and fall is his favorite season. He loves the arrangements people create when decorating their houses. More specifically, he likes the red and burgundy colors. I mean, that checks for him lolol; The color red, for mums, is supposed to mean a passionate love, which.....also checks out for him LMAO 2. In some European countries, the mum is used for funerary purposes. As in, many flower arrangements for funerals use mums, and given he's a macabre sonuvabitch, he likes the dark side of it too.

J - This one is tough. I'm compelled to say he's not the jealous type, because if he trusts his partner, he knows he doesn't have to worry about them running off with someone else. He'll show them off like the proud bitch he is, like "please, everyone look at my darling, look how beautiful they are." He likes to flaunt them and hype them up because they deserve it. However, if he doesn't trust, if they have a history of doing shit to get a rise out of their partner, or ya know, cheating, he's....more inclined to be jealous, and he's not a good kind of jealous. It'd come from a place of insecurity and anger, not the sexy kind of jealousy. I mean, if it happens once or twice, he'll do the whole thing of rocking their world to convince them not to leave him, but after that, it'd just be pissing him off. It might even depress him and lead him to leave them instead.

Y - GOD YES. I guess this can kinda go hand-in-hand with jealousy, but more so in a sense that....if he knows his partner is being targeted by unwanted attention, he steps in. He is 1000% the kind of person to take a bullet for someone. Being a vampire helps lmao but there are ways to kill him. Even if he knows they can handle themselves, he's still the one to intervene, I guess for two reasons. 1. He doesn't like to see his partner hurt or taken advantage of, and 2. It goes with his love language. Afraid of spiders and there's a spider in the house? He'll take care of it. Bad weather? He'll drive them wherever they need to go. Doing something incredibly dangerous? Absolutely not, he'll handle it.

#telegram: who is it from darling?#valentine's day ask meme #xceruleanrosesx #answered

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falloutstasis · 1 year

Text

A world of disbelief where I belong

NOTE: warnings for tw: attempted suicide. do not read further under the 'keep reading or read more' if you are triggered by this.

"If we can catch him in time, we can still stop him from escaping!"

"Nick!"

Nora almost couldn't catch up to Nick on how fast he was running. They had already got all of the tapes in order to unlock the code to Eddie Winter's bunker. Unfortunately, before approaching their destination the two saw a small figure walk out of there. They turned as soon as they realized that they were spotted.

"What in the world...?" Nick walked towards the figure, seeing them in black hoodie with worn out clothes. They had a hoister that was meant to hold their gun. From the looks of it, she was also wearing a mask that covered half of her face. When he got a good enough look, Nick could tell this was a ghoul.

When Nora finally caught up to Nick, she saw this same figure, standing in front of Nick. It was staring a hole through Nick, unaware of the small ghoul before him. Before either of them could utter a world, this ghoul hightailed it out of their way.

"Wait! Stop!" Nick yelled out.

Nick couldn't catch them in time and within seconds, they were out of his line of sight. It seemed that they took a different route "Damn it."

He heard Nora gasp within Eddie's bunker and when he joined her, there was a sight he never thought he see. All the weight in the world suddenly fell on him.

Laying dead on the floor was Eddie Winters, burned to a crisp, but what was surprising to him is that he was a Ghoul. Not only his ghoul body was burned, but his clothes too.

Nick hummed. "Huh. Bastard thought he could cheat death by becoming a ghoul."

"There's two bullet wounds, Nick." Nora pointed out. "But...he looks like if he was burned alive."

"Must be incendiary bullets." Nick said, looking through the bullets. Two bullets through the chest was enough to burn him alive and leave him for dead. "Whoever that was that ran passed us must have killed Winters."

"But Nick..." Obviously, this situation worried Nora. "That was a ghoul, right?" She saw him nod.

"They looked like a teenager..."

Nick's optics would narrow, matching the worry in Nora's eyes. Now what would a teenager kill a man like Eddie Winters? The Commonwealth was filled with fighters, but also criminals. It was too much for Nick sometimes, having to see the people around him turn into the monsters the world had made them.

He sighed and sat down on a chair that was next to the table. From there he pulled out a picture from his coat. It was a picture of the original Nick Valentine, Jennifer Lands, and their 10 year old child, Phoebe. He kept it so he remembered what he wanted, needed, to do in order to stop Winters for good. Now that he was dead, he was at a loss...

And then it clicked. When it did, absolute dread had engulfed in his entire body. He didn't move and Nora saw his eyes widen.

"Oh my god..."

"Nick..?"

All this time, he thought, the original Nick, thought his daughter was missing all this time. His child was alive. And she was a ghoul...She had to wonder around the Commonwealth all alone and on her own her entire life for over 200 years... This wasn't about survival. This was about revenge.

"Nora..." He said, sounding like he was going to cry. "My daughter is still alive..."

Nora realized what Nick had meant and the shock had spread throughout her face. "T-That was her, then?"

They both stood up at the same time. The look of shock changed to a look of determination. "I saw her take a short cut." Nora said, walking forward. "If we take there, we might still catch up to her."

There was nothing more than Nora wanted to do right now than to help Nick reunite with his kid. There was no way he was going to have the same fate as she did with her child.

When Nick said 'my daughter' it felt so weird. Does he even have a right to say that? It was easy to call Jennifer his fiancé, because she passed away. That was the original Nick Valentine's daughter. He didn't even know if Phoebe was going accept him as her father. That was a boundary he wasn't going to overstep if Phoebe didn't want to have anything to do with him.

Nora had lead Nick the shortcut that Phoebe went and just a moment later, they were out of the facility. Nick felt the whole world had stopped when she saw her sitting with her legs crossed at the one spot her mother was killed.

Her back was faced to them, unaware that the two were approaching them. Nora was the first one to sit down next to her, seeing her not move a single inch and her mask was already remove, revealing her full ghoul face. Nick didn't know what to do, so he let Nora talk to her instead.

Nora saw a gun that was laid on her legs. Eddie's Peace. It was situated to face upward and eerily aimed towards her head.

Before Nora spoke, Phoebe lifted her arm, revealing a Pip-Boy that was connected to a keyboard. She typed along and pressed enter.

I know you who are, you know.

Her text to speech voice mod on the Pit-Boy was a woman and it felt a little loud for Phoebe so she adjusted the volume.

To play along, she asked, "You do?"

Yeah. You're the general of the Minutemen.

She nodded at her. "That's right. I'm here to help."

Phoebe scoffed at the idea, squinting her eyes at the two bullet holes on the ground.

Well, I didn't need it. I solved that stupid puzzle on my own. Anyone with a brain can figure it out.

"Right." Nora said. "Do you know who else I brought with me?"

Phoebe only just barely turned to the other side, stopping herself mid turn. At that moment, Nick sucked a breath, almost barely looking at her face.

And she just looked right back at the bullet holes on the ground, as if it pained her. She already had a good very seconds earlier, after she killed Winters.

The man the looked, talked, and walked like her father. She couldn't even look at him for more than a couple of seconds without seeing her own father.

"Don't." She spoke rather roughly and scratchy, throat already irritated, causing her to be in a coughing fit.

"What happened? Are you sick?" Nora turning on motherly instincts.

She shook her head, sliding away from Nora, unaware that Nick was already getting close to her. Once again, she typed away.

The radiation messed up my throat. That's why I talk through the Pip-Boy.

Nora could see the hand hover over Eddie's gun just barely. She stopped her when she asked, "What you don't want me to do earlier?"

She shook her head again and grunted angerly. Her fingers slammed against the keyboard to let her know she was angry.

What is your problem?! Why do you care?! Just leave me alone!

She stood up, quickly removed her Pip-Boy, and threw it aside. She didn't care about it anymore the device. At this point, Eddie's Peace was aimed directly on the side of her head.

Suddenly, she was snatched from behind by Nick, making her drop everything she was holding, including Eddie's Peace, which was quickly grabbed by Nora.

She screamed and thrashed around Nick. She kicked him, she elbowed him on his arm. She did everything she could to get away, She screamed so loud, she started to cry. She was brawling from the pain in her throat and from the trauma she had to endure up to this moment. Fortunately for Nick, his arms were secured tightly to refrain her from jumping out of his arms.

"I'm so sorry..." He whispered. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart..." When Nick spoke, it wasn't Nick the Cop, or Nick the Detective.

It was Nick the Father.

She kept on crying but after a while of thrashing, trying to get away from Nick, she grave up. Nick took this as a sign to lower himself slowly, still clutching Phoebe, and sat down.

"D-Dad..." She whispered, not caring about her throat at this point.

Nick knew she must have worn herself out by screaming and crying, so he maneuvered her to her around ask quickly as he can. He held her by hugging her, as close as he can.

"I-I'm right here." He whispered, cradling Phoebe in her arms like if it was natural for him. "I'm not leaving you ever again, okay?"

He felt her head move up and down, and felt her head dunk into his chest, tears wetting his shirt and coat.

Nora watched the whole thing shedding a few tears, seeing Nick tremble a little bit upon closer inspection. She gently placed a hand on his shoulder. He looked at her with a mix of sadness and heartache.

"Come on, Nick." Nora suggested. "Let's take her home."

#i know i said i'll introduce phoebe later in rebellion #but i made the decision to introduce her in f4 too #angst incoming with her #also im going to delete walking disaster now i made this post lol #a new starter chapter for phoebe tho! yay!#also like there will be dima and phoebe interactions lol #fallout rebellion

0 notes

that-blue-vault-dweller · 3 years

Note

you know how you as the player character can use the v.a.t.s ability to slow down time and get really accurate shots off? How about the companions reacting to sole using v.a.t.s. to quickly hit multiple targets with unerring accuracy and even shooting a grenade out of the air?

Cait - "Are ye on jet or something?! There's no way ye could've hit all of those without being high as a kite!"

Piper - "Y'know, Blue, sometimes I seriously wonder what you actually did before the war. Were you really just a lawyer?"

Curie - "Incredible, Madame! Your eyesight must be twenty-twenty and your abilities to process depth perception and anticipate locations ahead of time are absolutely inspiring!"

MacCready - "Wow.... In all my time of being a sniper, I honest to goodness can pretty much safely say that I've never shot a grenade out of the air..."

Deacon - "Okay... I think you and Glory need to have a talk. She could learn a lot from you about not blowing an entire area apart with bullets while just trying to kill three guys..."

Codsworth - "Impressive, Mum!!! With that sort of military-like expertise you're showing off, I'll bet the hubby would be quite proud indeed!"

Hancock - "That... is absolutely incredible. How do you--- You know what? I'm not going to ask. I think it's one of those weird tricks that only you know how to do by some way that I could never understand."

Danse - "Outstanding..... Perhaps you should speak to Maxson and share this ability with him. He could surely find a great position for you to be an instructor and teach others how to pull off incredible feats such as this!"

Preston - "As if you couldn't prove yourself to be even more amazing..." *cue heart-eyes*

Valentine - "Y'know, counting my own memories and the old Nick Valentine's memories together, I still don't think I've ever seen anything like that. You're really something, kid."

X6-88 - "That is even beyond the abilities of a courser... How did you do that?"

Dogmeat - Does not get what just happened, but the bad guys just fell over and died suddenly, and he is happy. His human is safe, so he considers this to be the most important thing and a huge victory.

Strong - "Tiny human has better aim than super-mutant?! HOW?!!!"

439 notes · View notes

wh6res · 4 years

Text

dreams come true | yuta

"soulmate or not. i don't shoot blanks." — ny

[ part of the my bloody valentine collection ]

tw. gore, blood, murder, death, killings, mentions of illegal organ trafficking, violence, mentions of stalking, minor character deaths, weapons (a knife and a gun), almost (??) suggestive content but nothing happened

disc. this is rlly fucked up and yuta is unredeemable. i dont condone such acts. this is all a work of fiction and meant to entertain.

wc. 5k

every time you sleep, the void is sickening. it was all you could see, lightyears and lightyears away of pitch black that made your head dizzy and your stomach dry heave. you've always wondered when you'll start dreaming about your soulmate's memories. they were like little secrets, another way for two people to be intimate without even being together. their days were flashing before their soulmate's eyes in the form of a dream. it's as if you spent the day with them!

you loved it, the whole concept of it. it sounded so wholesome and sweet and jesus fucking christ, you've always been such a hopeless romantic.

it was sweet until it turned sour. you loved it until you hated it. it was romantic until it turned downright terrifying.

you wake up covered in cold sweat, panting and gasping as if you've run a whole marathon.

moonlight seeps through your glass window, slightly left ajar for the midnight breeze to pass through – you walk up to it, pull it shut, and draw your thick curtains together. you exhaled, breath shaking as you tried to anchor yourself back to the ground.

with the only source of your light disappearing, darkness envelops you whole. for once, you craved the void. you want that void back if it meant never seeing something like that again – something straight out of your worst nightmare.

"119, what's your emergency?"

"uhm, i think… i think i just witnessed a massacre."

you reiterate everything you saw in the dream – the mahogany door, paint chipping off the drywalls. the doorknob was rusty, so were the hinges, and it made an ominous creak when pushed open. the light switches on, the first you see was a bunch of dirty ice coolers in what should've been the living room, it wasn't even the slightest bit organized. they were everywhere, and the floor looked grimy and disgusting, like there's a stain they can't seem to scrub off. only when your soulmate has stalked closer did you see the labels haphazardly taped on top of the ice coolers.

kidneys. livers. lungs. pancreas. intestines – you nearly vomited on the floor, trying to relay everything you saw to the operator on the other end of the call.

then came the gruesome parts.

their deaths.

they were five people in total. men clad in cheap t-shirts and pants, wearing all these similar leather jackets. some were well-built, ripped in the arms and thighs, but some were skinny, the jackets hanging on their small frames.

they never stood a chance against him.

your soulmate is agile, quick on his feet with outstanding eye-hand coordination. only equipped with a butcher's knife, but it was all he needed to take them down and send them knocking on inferno's gates. he was skilled, knowing when to pounce and where to slash his knife to maim but never to kill. by the time your soulmate was through with them, everything is bloody red. all the victims' eyes widened as they sputtered and choked on their blood – not dead, but dying...

because your soulmate wasn't done yet.

a killer should have a modus operandi, should they not? so he took out a desert eagle, stood before the bleeding bodies, and shot two bullets straight into their eyes. the finishing touch? carving a frown on their faces with his butcher's knife.

the operator only told you one thing after she's made you describe the place for them to track the crime scene down.

"double-check all your windows and doors."

because you couldn't be too sure, not when you have been granted a front seat to the sad face slayer's most recent endeavors.

the detective eyes you with a certain pity. maybe that's why you don't bother meeting his eyes. you sit still on a chair, camera blinking red behind him, the interrogation room is freezing even with the thick jacket you're wearing.

seven billion people in the world and you're soulmate's a ruthless serial killer who took it upon himself to purge the world of evildoers – he was playing god, no wonder the detective is looking at you like that.

"uhh…" he's awkward, fidgeting in his seat. "and you saw this all in a dream?"

"yes."

you've known him only minutes ago. mark lee was his name and he seems to be a subordinate of a higher, more experienced detective named kim doyoung. you don't know whether to feel offended or not for having a doe-eyed newbie taking care of the case, but you pushed it at the back of your mind, knowing his superior is watching on the other side of the two-way mirror.

"did you have, like, other past instances where you dreamt of him? of what he…" mark looked like he was going to throw up. "what he does to his other victims?"

you shook your head. no. "i've mostly just heard of him on the news. i don't think i have the stomach to find out in-depth what the killer does."

mark takes out a folder, features walking the fine white line between looking apologetic or wanting to say me too. "i'm, uhh, really sorry to hear that."

there's a sudden pregnant silence encapsulating the interrogation room. it felt like you were mourning for something, the chains of dread dragging your heart to the ground as it pounded against your ribcage. mark looked like he wanted to say something, but you swore his eyes darted towards the camera in the corner and decided otherwise.

"anyway…" he trails. flipping the folder open in one swift motion. "past sightings have given us the sad face slayer's name."

he slaps down a picture of a man, his hair raven and a permanent scowl etched on his face. the quality was shitty. it looked like it was a screenshot taken from zoomed-in cctv footage.

"nakamoto yuta, twenty-five, japanese, and has slipped one too many times past authorities that at this point, it's practically a talent."

and just like that, it made sense why you're here.

your lips pursed in contemplation, palms quaking as your fingers reach forward to inspect your soulmate's picture. "and… you want to use my soulmate connection –" you glowered. never had a sentence sounded so fucking cursed and utterly wrong. "– to catch him?"

mark can't look you in the eye. "yes. he's very elusive. his killings have been happening cross-country and, as you can see, have garnered national media attention. the police are hanging by a thread here. a month in his case and all we got is his MO, name, and that he has this weird god complex on him. if we can't catch him by the end of next month…" he shrugs. "the feds are going to interfere, sooner or later."

"so…" you trail, urging him to continue.

"so, we need as much information about him as we can get and your dreams about him will be able to provide that."

fucking great.

the much newer revelations of precisely who it was on the other end of the soulmate connection put a significant damper on your mood. you'd like to think your new little cop buddy who follows you around gives you the least bit sense of security, but alas, it doesn't. not when you've seen first hand how yuta took down five men all at once without breaking a fucking sweat – you absolutely refuse to call him your soulmate, you'd never accept a person with his nature as a soulmate.

you try to hide the bracelet mark handed you last two weeks ago, during your time spent in the precinct's interrogation room.

"please have this on you at all times until we catch him, okay? this is for extra measures, just in case something happens to the cop assigned to guard you. just press the little button here and we'll be there before you can even finish shouting 'help!' – hey, i was just kidding! what's with the face?"

considering you're now probably being hunted alive for snitching on a serial killer? mark lee, that was not funny at all.

"do you have to get inside the lecture with me?" you whine, shielding your face with your hair when you notice people shooting glances at the rather handsome cop they assigned to you. "it's not like he'll attack in broad daylight! and in a fucking classroom, for that matter."

jaehyun looks just about ready to hurl you out the window. "lower down your voice," he scolds. "serial killers don't pick a time and place, sweetheart. he kills when necessary and if it's fucking necessary to murder everyone in that classroom to get to you? he'll do it in a fucking heartbeat."

you sigh when the chair next to you screeches against the floor, the aforementioned male taking his seat right next to you. jaehyun felt more like a babysitter than a cop, who seems to have a habit of constantly inputting his not-even-needed opinions on the most superficial things.

are witness protection protocols like this?

it was a good thing that overgrown bat doesn't come hanging around in your apartment, but he does have the police car parked right across the building's entrance. judging by how meticulous and thorough he seems to be, he won't miss any face that comes in and out of the building.

you didn't forget exactly why you're under witness protection. for the cops to waste one good officer to follow you around, you needed to be valuable and being valuable meant sleeping through nightmare-induced dreams of what your soulmate does for a living. the scenes are so gruesome, so graphic and utterly gory, that you dart towards the bathroom first thing after waking up in cold sweat, draining all of dinner down the toilet bowl.

after dreaming of him in action a few times, you've now completely understood what detective lee had said regarding yuta's god complex. it was unsightly, yet there was a twisted sense of heroism to it. if there's one thing, he only gutted the bad guys – but that didn't make nakamoto yuta any less of a bad guy, himself.

i need to ask you a favor [sent 2:05am]

JJH: what? [received 2:10am]

often the nightmares were too much. too much that you thought of escaping its horrors by never getting a wink of sleep ever again – until you realized you're a witness and is probably the only chance for the seoul police department to catch that bastard.

buy me sleeping pills? [read 2:08am]

when you peep out of the window, you find an empty spot across the road where jaehyun usually parks the police car. twenty minutes later, you answer the knocking on your door. he used that little "code" he did for you to know it was him. jaehyun was glowering and muttering about how he wasn't some errand boy when he shoved the plastic bottle in your hand yet, you still thanked him nonetheless.

the pills worked like a charm. you managed to stay asleep throughout the whole night, ceasing those episodes of yours where you jolt awake in the middle of dreaming about the sad face slayer's memories.

life continued for you. it became a little bearable, but that didn't mean the horrific murders you see in your dreams are something you can get used to – you don't think you'll ever get used to the sight of him slashing his victims, the blood trickling like a goddamned waterfall.

today the dreams were different. anticlimactic, per se, if you compare it to the violence so utterly present in his memories.

the first you see were black gates, then it shifted to him ordering coffee in a café (amazing what a simple black mask can hide). it switched to him walking on a sidewalk, then he arrives at his destination, an apartment building – it wasn't too rundown, nor was it extravagant.

the serial killer takes the elevator and walks up to a mahogany door –

your room number is a blaring sight.

you couldn't be wrong, not when the 506 with the missing zero in the middle was a sight you saw every day, going and coming home from university.

that was your front door.

he was at your front door.

you jolt awake, ignoring the icky feel of sweat making your clothes cling onto your skin. ice creeps up your spine and freezes you over when you notice with a sinking realization.

those black gates are from the university you attended. that café is your favorite study nook. and that sidewalk is a route you take every day.

you clamp your hands on your mouth as tears roll down your cheeks in rivulets. you pull the comforters up above your head, fear gripping onto you with a vice-like grip as you sob.

it was in the dead of night, moonlight grazing the confines of your room and hours away from dusk. you finally utter those three words in a frightened whisper.

"he's stalking me."

as if having the overgrown bat jaehyun following and annoying you around wasn't enough, you now have another person keeping watch over you. mark lee, unlike jaehyun, may not be as ripped with muscle, but you heard from your cop buddy that the young detective has a few black belts under him. people at the precinct said that if they have to choose one person who can ever come close to the sad face slayer's agility, mark lee's your guy.

"you gotta be shitting me," you mutter, leaning close to jaehyun to whisper like high school girls talking about gossip. "he doesn't look the type!"

jaehyun, in turn, plays along and copies you. "yeah, true. he gets that a lot, i think,"

"guys, i'm literally in the back seat. i can hear everything."

the change hadn't been too drastic. at least mark was there when jaehyun proved to be difficult, pulling him towards the other way when the older male tried waltzing into your class again. "you don't need to sit next to her in her class! are you serious? there's one exit and entrance and we're on the fifth floor. breaking into that classroom will be the end of nakamoto's serial killer career!"

you shoot mark an appreciative smile, one he quickly returned before hauling jaehyun around the hallway. "we'll just be at the canteen, okay? press the 'lil button on your bracelet and we'll be right there!"

shaking your head with a slight smile on your face, you entered the classroom, sat in your usual spot, and did some of your readings from our other class to kill time. you hardly hear the screech of the chair next to you as it was pulled back. not like you cared much for whoever sat down next to you, but you can't deny there's that feeling of missing jaehyun when he used to force his way into the lecture.

"settle down! settle down, people!"

the professor enters and the class begins.

you were meticulous with your note-taking system. it's thorough, leaving no room for information to slip you. having already printed hard copies of the powerpoint presentation and simply jotting down some extra key points mentioned by your professor.

you were just about to raise your hand for a question when you feel something warm graze past your arm. you absentmindedly look down.

the breath is sucked right out of your lungs.

hi, soulmate

there, scribbled with an ominous red crayon on a small piece of paper. it was almost laughable how innocent it looked but when you follow the ring-clad hand, up the black hoodie he's wearing, and finally to his face—

"hi! i'm yuta."

his cheshire smile spikes up your heartbeat. it makes you want to throw up, makes you want to slam your head against the desk. the fight or flight hormone you have is making you restless, eyes pinned on the serial killer sitting next to you, scared that if you avert your gaze, he's going to take out that desert eagle and shoot you until your skull caves in and the bullets in his magazine empties.

"but judging by your reaction, i don't think introductions are needed, hm?" his tone is easy, conversational even and it shoots a freezing jolt of fear right up your spine. it makes you sweat profusely because you don't fucking know what to do, your thoughts in complete and utter disarray.

"just press the little button here and we'll be there before you can even finish shouting 'help!' – hey, i was just kidding! what's with the face?" you swallow, sneakily pressing the button without breaking eye contact with the serial killer sitting in front of you.

"look upfront. now." yuta orders and you nearly snap your neck as you turn your head with lightning speed.

"i thought i was above the soulmate rules, but here we are. my soul is either too tainted or too great to be tied to such trivial things, but oh well, we learn to work with what we have. surprisingly, i learned to like dreaming about how your day went."

you feel something sharp poking at your thigh and when you look down, he has a silver butterfly knife pointed against you. the precision of the angle he held it with doesn't slip your notice. one slice of that knife, no matter how small, and he'll be spilling your guts in this classroom.

a fat tear rolls down your face.

"can you imagine how much my heart broke when i learned you were spying on me? leaking information to that snobby detective? to those incompetent cops? bad baby, that was very bad of you."

"yuta—"

"you think the cops can save you from me?"

his other hand comes in contact with the nape of your neck, holding your head in place as he leaned down to invade your space. he scoffs, and you can picture that terrifying cheshire grin you've seen one too many times in your dreams.

the knife digs through your coat, the tip hardly poking your skin only because he doesn't want to drive it into you yet. how did he even manage to get inside the university? not to mention the weapons he possessed? shouldn't anyone be suspicious when they see a man dressed in all black, clad in jeans and a hoodie, into a university—

he even dressed the part. with that hood drawn up and carrying that one notebook, he looked fairly normal. someone who can easily blend in with the crowd.

you eye your professor, willing him to look at you but your soulmate is having none of that. you squirm when he drives the knife further, at the base of your stomach. with his other hand, he twirls a lock of hair around his finger. "now, now, soulmate. you don't want half the people here to get hurt, do you? unless... that can easily be arranged—"

"no!" you whisper, head jerking to the side to look at him humming in satisfaction. damn. out of all the faces he's seen contorted with fear, yours is his absolute favorite. with those pleading, glassy eyes and parted lips, yuta is tenting in his sweats.

"thought so," he chuckles. "let's get up. we're leaving. that old crook doesn't care if students just up and went in the middle of his lecture."

you don't want to think about how he even knew that because it implied attending the lectures a good amount of times. it's with sinking realization that jaehyun was right. if it weren't for him insisting to sit next to you, nakamoto yuta would've long gotten you in his claws.

you tried gathering your things until he purred into your ear.

"ah, ah, ah. you wouldn't be needing those with where we're going."

the hallways were empty, not that you had much time to scream for help when he had a knife pointed up your back, shoving you into the fire escape stairs. within the tranquil confines of the staircases, the sad face slayer couldn't fucking care less for your personal space.

he disgusts you greatly, he needn't do anything but stand there in front of you but you can already smell the long blood trail from his path. it reeks of rotting flesh and that infuriating god complex he had left a sour aftertaste.

"you know, i genuinely wanted to get to know you," yuta pouts, shaking the hoodie off his head. his hair raven, it's ends kissing the nape of his neck. he looked like he came right out of a shounen manga but the bloodlust in his eyes is something that can never be masked. "i detested the soulmate connection at first, i thought i should just kill you off because you could be my loose end."

his humorless smile is enough to give you nightmares.

"but seeing how sweetly normal and untainted you are made me hold back," the butterfly knife appears before your line of sight, yuta teasingly dragging the tip right down your cheek to trace your tears. "so, why did you snitch, baby?"

you shiver when he noses the side of your neck, inhaling your scent as his other hand hooks underneath your top, freezing fingers making you jolt. when you don't reply, his patience starts to dwindle. then again, he was never a patient man.

"answer me, you bitch. why did you rat me out?" gone is the playful lilt in his voice. the vibrations surge through you as his deep, demanding voice scares you shitless.

you feel, hear, and smell him everywhere. this wasn't like any nightmare. this is real, and you won't magically wake up on your bed, sighing in relief, knowing he isn't there, that it was all just in your head. no, this was very much real and there's absolutely no escape.

"i didn't," your voice cracks. "i didn't mean to—"

"bullshit!" he yells. you wail in pain when he slams you against the wall, head aching as it came in contact with concrete. "because of you betraying me, i nearly fucking got caught, and i never get caught!"

you were full out sobbing at this point, noisy and unsightly as the snot mixes with your tears. your only hope now is he gives you a quick, painless death and that he doesn't carve and mutilate your face like what he always does to his other poor victims. "i'm sorry! please... i'm so sorry. i was scared—"

he coos mockingly, tilting his head to the side as he inched his face closer. "aw, scared? my sweet little soulmate was scared?" he places the blade flat against your neck. as humiliating and degrading as it was, you almost peed on your clothes. "how about now? i'm sure as hell that you're fucking terrified for your useless life right now."

you cringe when his hand abandons the expanse of your stomach, no longer inching higher, finding its purchase on the hair sitting at the crown of your head. he holds you in place like that, forcing your head parallel against the wall, with his whole body pressing up to you that it's nearly suffocating.

"just one quick little slice," he taunts. you hiccuped when you feel the feathery light scrape of the blade moving against your skin. "you won't even have time to scream… but i'm sure we don't want that, do we?"

you forgot how to speak. forgot how to breathe. whenever your mind wanders, you've always thought about how you'll give this killer a piece of your mind, with the amount of fear and sorrow he inflicts upon other people. but you guess realities were a lot more different than expectations. the yuta you dreamed of meeting is in handcuffs, but fate is a fickle little thing.

"do we?" he repeats, slicing ever so slightly at your skin. enough to draw blood in droplets, never a waterfall.

"n – no."

he smiles. "you can make it up to me. do you want to make it up to me?"

the butterfly knife digs even further. a warning. and if you value your useless life, you should be smart enough to know what to answer. drawing a shaky breath, you tried forcing the ends of your lips up to a smile. "of course, yuta."

your voice breaks as your sobbing grips your body whole. the fear consuming your entire being like a parasite consuming the host. you would've shut down altogether if it weren't for the calloused hands gently gripping your face. "i know, i know. i see how regretful you are, baby. don't worry, i won't hurt you. you'll make it up to me."

anyone would be fucking stupid if you believe those words coming from a serial killer.

in your wrecked state, you barely register that he's pushing you down to your knees. skin coming in contact with the freezing linoleum floor as you refuse to look at what his hands are doing. yuta has pocketed his knife. the sound of a belt unbuckling in itself added insult to injury.

you stare blankly at his shoes as he shoves his bottoms down enough for his cock to show. if you squint hard enough, you'll see tiny splatters of blood in the shoelaces. whether or not he feels you're unresponsive, he doesn't show. maybe he doesn't care entirely. he takes one of your hands and used it to wrap around himself. he gasps, sharp, followed by a hiss.

you feel it throbbing and it strengthens the disgust you feel. no way you're going to give him the satisfaction of eye contact when you're already forced to blow this psycho.

"eyes up."

you sniffled, vulnerability present in the tone you speak. "i don't want to. please, don't make me."

if words alone aren't enough for you to follow orders, maybe you'll feel more motivated if held at gunpoint. it's unmistakable, the infamous desert eagle you've only seen in your nightmares. the last thing you ever expected is to be on the side where the bullet comes out.

the barrel is freezing as he digs it into the crown of your head. "soulmate or not. i don't shoot blanks."

your eyes looked up then. glaring as the tears rolled down your face. "you're a monster," you mutter under your breath. where you got the confidence to fight back is unknown.

"i've heard that before, be more creative next time," he holds your hair tight in one grip, shoving you forward, eye-level to his throbbing dick. "now… suck, baby."

"freeze!"

you knew that voice, you've been hearing it for the last two weeks. "jaehyun–!"

yuta cuts you off, shoving the gun into your mouth. the safety clicking off resonating in the tranquil room. it's deafening, and it makes you immobile.

"hands up. step away from the civilian." whether or not mark is nervous as he points the gun at the serial killer, he's doing a damn good job of hiding it.

yuta sighs, exasperated as he throws his head back. his raised arms came down to tuck himself back in his jeans, and the action made jaehyun's calm exterior crack. "i said, hands up, asshole!"

"chill out, motherfucker. i'm just trying to wear my pants." the serial killer hisses, glaring at jaehyun over his shoulder.

"mark, call back up already. what are you doing?" jaehyun mutters, side-eyeing the young detective whose gun shakes as he holds it up. the taller cop takes a step forward, eyes never leaving the notorious killer as he addresses you curtly. "(name), come here."

just as you plant your palms to the ground to push yourself up, one of yuta's hands shoves you down quick as lightning. "no. she stays here, with me."

jaehyun scowls, takes another step forward. "and what makes you think i'm going to let that happen?"

"i don't think. i know."

there's a constant ring in your ear as the gunshot temporarily renders you deaf. you've shut your eyes in utter fright, hands shooting up to cover your ears but it was too late. you refuse to open your eyes, you didn't want to see a dead body lying before you, even if it belonged to a heartless serial killer.

but when your eyes fluttered open, it's not yuta bleeding out on the ground.

"no, this can't be – jaehyun!"

it was a bullet straight to the head, no one could've survived a shot like that. his eyes are empty as he stares at you, unblinking, stoic. the color is yet to drown away from his milky complexion. but you can't even manipulate yourself into thinking that jaehyun's still alive. not when his eyes are empty, not when he just looks so lifeless.

it couldn't have been yuta who pulled the trigger.

his weapons were on the ground and the shot rang too fast. the sad face slayer couldn't have crouched down for his gun to shoot the cop, it would've taken too much time. and among the three men, there's only another person holding a weapon, and that was –

"great shot, mark."

the detective smiles, but with the blood splattered on his face, it looked cold. "told ya i've been practicing."

yuta hauls you up by the arms, addicted to how frail your body feels as it collapses against him. he's finally got his little soulmate in his arms. and he will never, ever let you go.

the cops lost – you've lost.

yuta, with a sense of victory coursing through his veins, took the liberty of trailing little pecks down your neck as he mutters, "mine, mine, mine!" but you couldn't care less about his display of mocked affection. not when the other person meant to protect you, turned out to be everything you think he wasn't.

mark must've felt the gravity of your stare as he crouches before jaehyun's bleeding body. grabbing the fallen cop's gun, he took it upon himself to empty the magazine. the lopsided grin he sends you broke your resolve more than yuta ever could.

"i'm sorry. it's nothing personal."

645 notes · View notes

the-iceni-bitch · 4 years

Text

Sweeter Than This

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!spy!Reader

Words: Mobile again ☹️

Summary: You almost miss your first Valentine’s Day with Bucky, but you have a plan to make it up to him.

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (unprotected vaginal sex, oral sex(f receiving), salad tossing, unprotected anal sex, use of butt plug), violence (standard canon stuff), SMUT, 18+ ONLY!!!!

A/N: Happy V-Day y’all! Here’s the next entry in my Holidays With Bucky series (with so Sam sprinkled in) and it’s a fun one! Unfortunately, the power is out at my place right now due to snow and because my city sucks at preparations I’m probably not going to have power until at least Monday, so we’ll see if I’m able to deliver on my other promised Valentine’s treats for you all.

Check out my masterlist and join my taglist if you want!

Bucky hated clubs so much.

The loud music, the overcrowding, the overpriced drinks. He was absolutely miserable.

It didn’t help that Sam was bouncing around like an idiot, enjoying the atmosphere with a stupid grin on his face. Would it kill the man to act like a professional for once?

They’d followed the target to the Cross Club here in Prague after four days of surveillance with nothing to show for it, and now they were watching him talk to some new player in a VIP booth. God he hoped this would be over soon.

“What?” Buck shouted over the music. Sam had said something, but even with his super soldier hearing, he couldn’t make it out over the thumping bass.

“I said, is Y/N pissed you’re missing Valentines Day?” Sam yelled, his hips still moving in time to the music.

Bucky did some quick mental math and cursed under his breath. He hadn’t seen you in almost 3 weeks. You had to head back to the States for some stupid debrief with Sharon and the big bosses while he and Sam kept chasing leads on Zemo here in Europe. He hadn’t even realized it was Valentines Day.

“Shit, he’s moving.” Sam said, tapping Buck on the shoulder as the mark stood up and moved towards the dance floor.

“Fuck, can’t we go around?” Bucky whined, starting to follow after Sam towards the crowd.

“Y’know, when your girlfriend’s not around, you’re such an old man.” Sam teased. “We don’t wanna lose him, so pull the stick out of your ass and try to look like you’re enjoying yourself.”

Buck just rolled his eyes and trailed after him, doing his best to avoid the writhing, sweaty bodies that kept trying to grind against him. Sam was right, it was a lot easier to enjoy these types of ops when you were with him.

He didn’t know how they managed to keep eyes on the target as he moved through the crowd, but they saw him head out one of the exits and were following after him within a few minutes.

“Hey, Wilson? Where the fuck is he?” Buck hissed as he opened the door to an empty alley.

“Shit, hold on, let me pull up Redwing.”

“I still can’t believe you named that fucking thing.” Buck said exasperatedly.

Sam didn’t have a chance to reply before a motorcycle ripped past the two of them.

“Was that him?” Bucky yelled as he whipped his head after it. “Motherfucker!”

“Calm down, I got it.” Sam said, summoning his wings.

“Oh, I guess I’ll just run after him then? I told you we should’ve brought a car!”

“I could carry you.” Sam said teasingly, giving Bucky a stupid grin.

“Oh fuck you.” Buck said, flipping Sam off as he chuckled at him. “Shit!”

The two of them dove out of the way as a Lexus tore into the alley, stopping just short of hitting them.

“Hey assholes! Happy Valentine’s Day!!!” You shouted as you rolled down the window, a massive grin splitting your face.

“Baby!? What’re you doing here?!?” Bucky asked, beaming back at you.

“I had to get the fuck out of D.C. There was no way I’d miss our first Valentine’s Day! Besides, I missed the field! Now get in, I managed to tag his bike but I don’t want him to get out of range.”

“Shotgun!” Sam called with a grin on his face, making you laugh.

“What?!? Fuck you Wilson! You’re gonna make me sit in the back when this is the first time I’ve seen my girl in weeks?” Bucky said in disbelief.

“Sorry Barnes, you should’ve called it!”

“Yeah babe, you really should’ve called it.” You teased as he crawled into the back of the vehicle with a scowl.

“I can’t believe you’re taking his side.” He pouted at you as Sam climbed after him, bringing the back of his seat up to crash against Buck’s knees.

“There’s no sides, honey, it’s shotgun rules.” You said as you peeled out of the alleyway.

“Whatever, could you move your seat up Wilson?”

“Nope.” Sam said grinning over his shoulder before cursing under his breath and bracing one hand against the ceiling as you swerved around a slow moving van. “Jesus, Y/N! Maybe take it a little slower, we’re still in the city.”

You just snorted before taking a sharp turn at an inadvisable speed, barely tapping on the brakes and sending Bucky sliding across the backseat.

“Put your seatbelts on, idiots.” You scolded as the two of them tried to find something to grab onto.

“Honey, pedestrian, pedestrian, Pedestrian!!!” Buck screamed as he buckled himself in, screwing his eyes closed.

“Yeah, I see them.” You said as you took another turn at the last second, barely missing the man who was crossing the street.

“Oh my god! This is how I’m going to die.” Sam said, his knuckles white on the dashboard as you flew up a hill, the car actually suspending in midair for a beat before crashing back to the street with a jolt. “Stuck in a car with a crazy woman and her 100 year old boyfriend.”

“You’re so fucking dramatic.” You said with an eye roll, glancing at him sideways. “It’s like you’ve never been in a high speed chase before.”

“Eyes on the road!” Bucky shouted at you as an unsuspecting couple started to step off the curb directly into your path.

You hopped onto the walkway behind them to avoid the brake lights in front of you and your two passengers started letting out a steady stream of curses as you weaved between pedestrians and carts.

“Just relax you two, we’ve almost got him.” You said exasperatedly, somehow speeding up even more.

You rounded another corner and the bike popped into view, speeding out of the city at a breakneck speed.

“Shit, gun!” Sam screamed as the biker turned around, hefting an AK-47 and pointing it directly at the windshield.

He and Bucky ducked, hands covering their heads. They flinched as they heard a series of pops, then straightened up slowly when they realized the windshield was still intact.

“Yeah, it’s bulletproof.” You said with a grin as you kept the car steady with one hand, reaching under your seat to grab something. You handed a giant pistol to Sam. “There should be a rifle under the backseat, baby.”

“And what exactly do you want us to do with these?” Sam asked warily as Bucky drew out the rifle and nodded appreciatively.

“Shoot at him.” You said, following the bike around a sharp turn that had the boys bracing themselves.

“Fuck that! If you think I’m sticking half my body out of a window while you’re driving like this you’re insane!” Sam said in disbelief. “Besides the car is bulletproof.

“Yeah, well the tires aren’t, and if he hits one of those while I’m driving this fast, we’re all gonna get shredded.”

Bucky shook his head before rolling down his window and pulling his upper body out of the car, bringing the rifle up to return fire.

“You are both fucking crazy!” Sam said, rolling his own window down and shoving his shoulders out, bringing up his pistol.

The biker turned his focus to Bucky while Sam covered him, and you took the opportunity to speed up.

“What’re you doing, babe?” Bucky shouted into the car as you started to get closer to the bike.

“I’m gonna ram him.” You yelled back. “Keep covering me!”

“Umm, isn’t he supposed to lead us to Zemo? Shit!” Sam yelled, a bullet whizzing by his ear.

“I don’t think he’s leading us anywhere Sammy.”

“Well, we could still get information out of him!”

“Yeah, these guys have proven to be pretty impervious to interrogations, Wilson.” Buck said, gripping the roof of the car with his vibranium hand as you followed the bike around another curve.

“I really just need his phone!” You yelled as you closed the distance even further, now only 25 feet from the back tire of the bike. “You might want to get back inside.”

Sam yanked his upper body back into the vehicle with a curse and Buck slid back inside easily as you pressed the gas pedal to the floor. You hit the bike in a few seconds and sent it and the rider rolling over the car with a thud. As soon as it was clear you slammed on the brakes, sending the vehicle spinning out.

“Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod....” Sam was screaming as the car whipped around over and over, his eyes screwed shut and his hand braced against the roof of the vehicle while his foot braced against the dashboard.

Bucky just clenched his jaw and ripped his vibranium fingers through the back door to hold himself in place, shaking his head at Wilson.

The vehicle finally came to a stop about 200 feet away from where the bike had crashed. Sam wrenched his door open and dove out of the car, bending over and vomiting at the side of the road.

“You ok there Sammy?” You asked, rising from the driver’s seat gracefully and looking at your friend with concern as Bucky almost climbed over the front seat with a wince and joined you.

“Oh, what are you wearing?” He groaned as he finally got a good look at you. “Are you trying to kill me?”

It was a skin tight, patent leather pink dress that was pushing your tits together and up in an absolutely delicious way. The skirt barely covered your ass and he was sure there was no way you could bend over in it without flashing whoever was nearby.

“I told you, baby, it’s Valentines Day.” You sad with a grin as you stepped closer to him.

He moved to wrap his arms around you but you stepped away at the last second, moving back towards where the bike crashed with a light laugh as he let out a frustrated huff.

“What is wrong with you two?!” Sam said as he started to follow after you. “Your girlfriend almost kills me and all you want to do is jump her as soon as it’s over.”

“I mean, did you see that dress?” Bucky said teasingly as he joined your friend, walking a little faster to catch up with you.

“Got the phone!!” You said triumphantly as you straightened back up from your inspection of the dead body. “And it’s still in ok shape! I’m gonna call this in real quick and then we can head back.”

“No! I’m not going anywhere if you’re driving!” Sam said, shaking his head vehemently. “Gimme the keys.”

“C’mon Sammy!” You said with an eye roll.

“You do not get to call me Sammy right now, you psycho!” He said, snatching the keys out of your outstretched hand as you laughed at him. “And neither of you gets to sit shotgun! You sit in the back and think about what you’ve done.”

“Jesus, fine dad.” You said as you slid into the back seat, Bucky chuckling as he slid in after you and slammed the door closed.

Sam pulled the car forward a few feet, turning the wheel sharply before throwing it in reverse and spinning it in the opposite direction as he backed up.

“Uh, Sammy?” You said as he repeated the process. “Maybe just crank the wheel all the way and pull a little further forward?”

“Yeah, it’s not called a 13 point turn, Wilson.”

“Both of you shut the fuck up!! I’m not taking driving advice from you!” He shouted over his shoulder as he did the exact same thing and you lost it, laughing hysterically.

“Oh my god, there’s like 15 feet of road that you’re not using!” You said breathlessly as you cracked up Bucky grinning as he watched you fold over in laughter.

“I cannot believe the shit I have to put up with.” He muttered as he finally straightened out the vehicle and drove back towards the city, doing his best to ignore your dying laughter.

Bucky was beaming at you as you settled down, leaning back against the seat as you wiped tears from your eyes. You smiled back at him and gave him a wink.

“Did I tell you how much I love that dress?” He said as he scooted closer to you, his eyes raking over your chest before sinking lower to gaze at your thighs.

“No.” You said teasingly, biting your lip at him and leaning towards him just a little bit.

“Cuz I fucking love that dress.” He growled at you as he wrapped his hands around your waist and drew you closer, nuzzling himself into your neck.

You gave a soft sigh as he ran his teeth over your throat, flinging one leg over his lap as he moved his vibranium hand from your waist to cup your ass. He moved his mouth up to the hinge of your jaw as he pressed you into him.

“Shit, Bucky.” You moaned as he pulled you onto his lap, his hands running over your thighs to tuck under your skirt as he sucked a bruise against your neck. “I swear to god, if you ruin this dress...”

“Oh, what the fuck guys?!” Sam said as he peeked at you through the rear view mirror. “I’m two feet away from you! It’s like you’re a couple of teenagers.”

“Sorry Sammy!” You whined before letting out a gasp as Bucky nuzzled himself between your tits at the same time he bucked his hips up into you, grinding his hardening cock against you.

“Oh, I do not get paid enough for this shit.” Sam groaned as he pulled the car into the parking lot of the hotel and jolted it to a halt. “I cannot believe I have to put up with you horny idiots.”

“Bye Sam!” You called after him as he slammed the door closed, waving a dismissive hand at you as he started to head back to his room. “Mmm, Bucky!”

He drew the straps of your dress down over your arms and wrapped his lips around one of your nipples as you arched your back into his face.

“Jesus Christ, I fucking missed you.” He groaned before moving his mouth up to yours, sucking your bottom lip between his teeth as he laid you down across the backseat.

“Yeah? What’d you miss baby?” You murmured against his lips, wrapping your legs around him and ripping his shirt over his head.

“Missed the way you smell.” He murmured against your neck as he nuzzled into your hair. “Missed these fucking perfect tits and how well they fit in my hands.” He whispered into your ear as he brought his hands up to palm your breasts, making you whine.

“Fuck, baby. You’re making me so wet.” You said breathlessly as a fresh rush of arousal leaked out of you, your fingers moving to work at undoing his fly.

“Good.” He growled against your collarbone as his he dipped one hand under your ass and pressed you into his hard on. “Cuz I missed that pussy the fucking most.”

“Shit.” You hissed as his vibranium hand ripped off your panties in one quick motion before his hands moved to shove your dress up around your waist. “Don’t you dare fucking rip this dress, Barnes!”

“I’m being careful.” He said with a chuckle before lining himself up. He teased his tip against your entrance before slowly sinking into you, grinning as he watched your eyes roll back in your skull as your lids fluttered, a moan escaping from your lips.

He drew himself out halfway, really taking his time as he felt himself drag against every inch of the warm channel between your legs, then slammed his hips forward with enough force that you had to brace your hand against the door to keep your head from cracking against it. You had to bite your lip to keep from screaming as you came immediately, your back arching up off the seat as your pussy spasmed and fluttered around his cock.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you miss me too?” Bucky said with a grin as he kept fucking into you, watching your chest heave as you started to come down from your first orgasm. He hooked one hand under your knee and drew it up to your waist, spreading you apart even further.

“Shit, yes!” You moaned as his dick thrust even deeper into you, hitting a new spot that had you seeing stars. “Missed this cock so fucking much.”

“Yeah? You miss feeling me in this tight little pussy?” He said as he felt you clench around him, your hips meeting his thrusts desperately.

“Fuck, Bucky! My pussy needs you so bad. Need your big cock inside me all the time.” You let out a gasp as he brought his vibranium hand between the two of you to strum at your clit. You wrapped your hand around his wrist to keep him in place as you tossed your head back. “Need to feel you stretch me and split me open, baby.”

“Jesus, keep talking.” He murmured as he collapsed on top of you, burying his face in your neck as he started moving his hips even faster. “Love hearing you use that filthy mouth of yours.”

“Yeah, babe? You wanna hear me talk about how much this pussy needs your big cock?” Your grinned when he let out a groan against your neck. “My pussy would get so fucking wet every time I thought about that dick. Nobody fucks me like you do. Oh god, right there!”

“Damn, honey. You’re squeezing me so good. You gonna cum again?”

You just nodded before a sob ripped through your chest, your knuckles turning white as your grip on his vibranium wrist tightening and a wave a pleasure crashed over you. Your legs squeezed his hips as you thumped your fist against the door, your torso rolling underneath Bucky as your cunt clamped down on him, making him twitch.

You felt his hips stuttering as you writhed underneath him, and with just a few thrusts he was filling you up, panting against your neck as he sank on top of you, pressing his full weight into you as he came down.

“Oh my god, happy fucking Valentine’s Day.” He moaned into your hair.

“Shit, I still need to give you your present, baby!!” You said with a grin as you ran your hands over his shoulders.

“I don’t need a present, sweetheart.” He said lazily before peppering soft kisses over your throat.

“Oh, I really think you’re gonna want to open this one.” You sighed, wriggling a little underneath him.

You grabbed his flesh hand and drew it between your legs slowly, dragging it over your sex until his fingers brushed against the jewel that was nestled between your ass cheeks. He sat up with a jolt when he realized what you were suggesting, making you laugh excitedly as he gave you a massive grin.

“Oh my god, Y/N, I’ve been waiting for this.” He said as he flipped you over, smacking your ass as you giggled at him. He spread your cheeks apart and groaned when he got a look at the pink jewel of the plug you had inserted earlier in the day.

He gripped the plug and drew it out of you slowly, biting his lower lip as he watched you pussy clench at the sensation. His breath came out in a hiss once it was free, your pretty hole gaping and fluttering at the loss as you moaned underneath him, pressing your ass back into his palms.

“Fuck, I’m gonna make you feel so good.”

He didn’t give you a chance to respond before he was yanking your hips back and up, tossing your thighs over his shoulders. You let out a shriek when he ran his tongue over your cunt in a heavy stripe before dragging the flat of the thick muscle over your asshole.

“Fuck, oh my god!” You screamed, trying to find something to brace yourself against as he ran the tip of his tongue around your rim, teasing you and making both of your holes throb with need.

He kept teasing you with his tongue for what felt like hours, alternating between heavy drags that ran over your entire sex and tiny kitten licks that were turning you into a begging, whimpering mess, a steady stream of slick leaking out of your swollen pussy.

“Gotta make sure you’re good and ready for me, gorgeous.” He murmured, giving you a momentary reprieve before he shoved his tongue inside your puckered hole.

The sound you made was otherworldly, halfway between a moan and a cry. He almost came just from the pure wantonness of it, and he felt his cock twitching against your chest as he started to tongue-fuck you. You pressed your cheek to the leather of the seat as he took you apart, mewling like an idiot as he stretched you open, his thick muscle probing you as deep as he could.

“Bucky...” you mumbled before another orgasm shook you, your cunt fluttering around nothing as a wave of bliss traveled up your spine from deep in your core and making you whine as drool leaked from the corner of your mouth.

He pulled his face away from you suddenly and unwrapped his arms from around your thighs. Your muscles were jelly as he lowered your hips, your eyelids drooping as you moaned at the loss of him. Once he finally had you laid back down, he took a second to gaze at you.

He loved how fucked out you got. Your limbs were splayed out at random angles as your back rose and fell with deep breaths, the curves of your breasts just peeking out from where they were pressed against the seat. He brushed your hair away from your face to see you grinning up at him, your cheeks streaked with tears and mascara and your lipstick smeared all over your mouth and chin as you looked at him with lust blown pupils.

“We’re still not done.” He said softly before wrapping his hand around your throat and yanking you up until your back was flush against his chest, making you gasp. He brought his other hand between you to wrap around his cock and dragged it through the slick that had soaked your ruined pussy before teasing his tip against the rim of your tightest hole. “I think you’re ready for me.”

He didn’t wait for you to answer before shoving his hips forward and spearing into you. Your body tried to jolt forward at the intrusion but his palm on your throat kept you in place, holding you still as he bottomed out.

“Jesus Christ, you feel amazing.” He muttered into your hair, his fingers vibrating over your throat as you let out a whine.

He pressed down against your jugular as he started to move his hips, dragging in and out of you at a deliciously slow pace that had you keening. You were losing yourself in the new sensation of having him fill your tightest channel, his thick cock stretching you more than you’d ever been before. Your head dropped back on his shoulder as he started to move faster, the slick leaking from your pussy making it easier for him to slide in and out of you.

“Fuck, I love your body. You treat me so good baby.” He murmured against the shell of your ear. “Wanna fill all your your pretty holes and pump you full of my cum. Wish I could be inside you all the time, pretty girl.”

Your pussy was fluttering around nothing as his soft praises filled your ears, and when he dropped his hand to the apex of your thighs you almost came immediately with a cry.

“You didn’t think I forgot about this pretty pussy, did you baby?” He whispered as his metal fingers spread you apart, teasing over your entrance as his flesh hand increased the pressure on your airway and his hips picked up the pace. “You want me to fuck you with my fingers while my cock’s in your ass, honey?”

“Fuck, Bucky, I want you to spank it.” You moaned as he continued to tease you, your brain starting to shut down as the mixture of sensations overwhelmed you.

He let out a feral growl against the curve of your neck before wrapping his lips around your earlobe. “Shit, you gonna cum if I spank it?” He hissed in your ear as he kept his fingers running over your sex.

“Yeah, I’m gonna fucking cum! Need you to spank my pussy, Bucky, please.”

His teeth nipped at the hollow behind your ear at the same time he smacked your cunt and you let out a shriek as your body vibrated against him. Your thighs quivered with strain as your pussy spasmed uncontrollably, your asshole strangling Bucky’s cock as you shook in your bliss, his hand around your neck the only thing keeping you upright.

“Fuuuuck.” He hissed against your neck as his hips chased his own release. “I wanna fuck all your holes while I cum, sweetheart, get ready.”

You only had a second before he was shoving three fingers into your pussy at the same time he put two fingers in your mouth, choking you as he shoved them down your throat before you were able to relax. He groaned when you started sucking on him, swirling your tongue around his digits while his vibranium fingers curled inside of you against that sweet spot that made your eyes roll back in your skull.

He felt you clench around him everywhere and let out a groan into your hair, his cock twitching inside you as you both neared your ends.

He ground his palm against your clit and you were finished, sobbing around his fingers as you squirted your release all over his hands, his thighs, and the seat in what was the biggest orgasm of your life. Your body tried to lift itself off the seat as you came, your vision whiting out as your muscles stopped working and Bucky let you collapse forward as he finished.

Another few thrusts of his stuttering hips and he let out a wordless roar as he came inside you, filling you completely with his spend until it was leaking out around his cock. He collapsed on top of you as his body rolled on a wave of pleasure, his breath hitching in his chest.

The two of you laid there tangled with each other for what felt like hours. You were so utterly spent that the passage of time no longer held any meaning, and you completely forgot where you were.

“Holy fuck.” Bucky muttered after a while, still unable to move anything except his face, which he nuzzled into your hair.

“Yeah.” You muttered into the seat cushions, your brain finally resetting.

“I mean, holy fuck.” He couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“Yeah.” You said again, wiggling your toes look experimentally as your body started to come back down.

“I’ve never cum that hard before in my life.” He muttered as he drew his hands over your arms until they were pressing into your shoulders, moving your hair aside so he could pepper kisses all over your neck.

“Me either.” You whispered, turning your head over your shoulder so you could press your lips to his softly.

He pulled away once he was able, giving you a sloppy grin as he managed to sit up, pulling out of you gingerly and groaning at the sight of his cum leaking out of you. You twisted until you were able to sit up yourself, leaning back against the car door as you beamed back at him.

“Best fucking Valentine’s Day ever.” He muttered, drawing you onto his lap to kiss you deeply, and wondering if it would be too tacky to tell you he loved you after the first time you let him fuck your ass.

Tags!!!!!

@buckysnumberonegirl @slothspaghettiwrites @captain-asguard @starlightcrystalline @harrysthiccthighss @quxxnxfhxll @bonkywobble @chrisevanscardigan @chubbybuckydumpling @StanAllStarks @blackestpinkworld @fistmebuckyskywalker @wandering-spiritash @khadineberry @muzzyandbusy @slytheriin2002 @isysen @WanderingAlice00 @kaleeelizabeth58 @tlcwrites @angrybirdcr @unsaltedalmonds @amerikakapitanyy @lizette50 @daughterofthenight117 @obsessivereaderchick @drabblewithfrannybarnes @stargazingfangirl18 @jack-skellingtons-stuff @chrissquares @msmarvelwrites

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therealvinelle · 2 years

Note

I’m almost afraid to ask, but what are your thoughts on Hellsing? Any heretical takes? Why do you prefer the first anime over the OVA?

It's one of those things that are so obvious to me I wouldn't even know how to explain it. The Hellsing anime is just better, plain and simple, the animation, the script, the plot, the OST, the voice acting, the characters, all of it.

I don't like a single thing in the Hellsing OVA, it's rare that I am purely negative towards a thing but that OVA had no redeeming qualities whatsoever.

Here, for art, script, and voice acting comparison: the Valentine fight scene in the anime, and in the OVA.

It's been years since I watched either of these, and I actively repressed memories of the OVA, so doing a more detailed comparison is tough. However, Seras Victoria's transformation is an example I think says it all.

The situation in both is this: Seras Victoria is a policewoman who gets captured by a vampire that uses her as a body shield. To kill the vampire, Alucard must shoot his bullet through her.

In the OVA, he asks her if she's a virgin. Then he shoots, and explains as she lays gurgling on the ground that he had no choice but hey, you could become a vampire if you wish. Clip

In the anime, he explains this to her, and then asks if she wishes to live on as a vampire. She says yes, and he fires his gun. Clip

To me there's just no comparing the two scenes (in more ways than script! Look at the art! It's so good in the anime! Then look at the generic horribleness in the OVA!). One affords her agency in that final moment, lets her calmly say "Yes." and the other... doesn't.

The anime goes on to focus on Seras Victoria's character development and how she adjusts to her new life, as well as her oddly sweet mentor/student relationship with Alucard. She's a person in the anime. The OVA makes her a part time tentacle monster with a terrible love interest, because the value they place in her is how badass she is. Her moment of glory.

Oh, and I can't stress enough my distaste for how the OVA treated everything like a boss fight. And added sexual abuse to Alucard's backstory for no goddamn reason besides edginess. And characters making speeches that would go on for over five fucking minutes, speeches that in most cases could have been reduced to a single line. "I love war", there, done. And oh, some of those speeches were entirely dedicated to how badass Alucard was, I couldn't find any examples on youtube but they never failed to cheapen him.

You have the Roman Catholic Church, which in the anime is a rival organization with the same priorities, and in the OVA becomes bad guys who side with the nazi robots because hullo, evil.

The final boss fight of both anime and OVA is in the anime poignant, nothing beats the moment Alucard looks like he's lost and he uses his last bit of energy to tell Seras to save herself, but she carries his head with her anyway. OVA final fight was just... bosses being thrown at Alucard and then dying in increasingly bizarre ways. Old butler Walter went dark side and deaged into a sexy bad boy! And dies in some way I can't recall but I'm pretty sure it involved Alucard genderbending and putting on a nurse costume! Anderson gave up his humanity to win but turned into a tree instead! The nazis were swallowed up by a sea of blood and gore, I think! And instead of being derpy hilarity, I'm bored to tears!

Look, I'm just going to keep going. I absolutely loathed the Hellsing OVA, the worst thing about it is that it completely drowned the Hellsing anime. The fandom is impossible to track down because all the content is OVA, and season 2 is never happening because people want the OVA and that's the worst thing in the world because season 1 ended on a cliffhanger.

Final thing I'll say before ending the post: notice the absence of Integra in this post. In the anime, she's a fantastic character, a woman made of steel that I can believe could tame Alucard. She's indomitable, a truly extraordinary woman. Enter the OVA, and she's so generic and forgettable badass that I can't remember a single one of her scenes.

Just, the Hellsing anime, chef's kiss, it was beautiful.

Hellsing OVA, boo hiss.

@thecarnivorousmuffinmeta, got anything to add?

#hellsing ova #anti hellsing ova #hellsing anime #hellsing #anti hellsing #alucard #seras victoria #e-v-shellder

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damien-mlm · 2 years

Text

Keeping Myself Alive

Tags and warnings!!!

RE Gameverse, Carlos Oliveira/Transmasc!OC, Established Platonic Relationship with Jill, Childhood Friends, Carlos Oliveira, Jill Valentine, Nicholai Ginovaef | Nikolai Zinoviev, Tyrell Patrick, Mikhail Victor, Nemesis, OC, Angst, Hospitalization, C-PTSD, Injury Description, Gore, Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, Self-Harm, Character Death, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Fluff, Smut (eventually), Explicit.

Chapter 4: Old Times

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(4500 words approx.)

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Liam’s hands were all patched up, but Jill was gone, and the two men had no idea where could she be. They couldn’t even hear the monster around anymore.

“Can you reach her on the radio?” Liam asked Carlos, he pressed the radio on his ear and tried to communicate.

“Jill? It’s Carlos, do you copy?” – silence… – “Jill? Jill, can you hear me? Are you there?” – more silence – “Shit, it’s not going through…” – Carlos said at Liam, worry in his eyes.

“We need to go find her-” – Liam started, before being interrupted by the doors opening again, Nicholai and the man from before coming towards them.

“Sub’s ready to depart” said the man, looking at Carlos.

“Thanks, Tyrell” – he said, then turned to Liam expectantly – “You go, get out of here, I can find Jill” – but Liam protested.

“Absolutely not, I’m not leaving the city without her.” – he said with a stern tone. Nicholai scoffed at him.

“Get in the train with the rest of the civilians” – he ordered Liam – “or you’ll end up dead like her” – that struck a nerve in him.

“Yeah, you would know all about that. Wouldn’t you?” – he said as he approached the silver-haired man with big, heavy steps, ready to punch his teeth in. Nicholai, on the other hand, rose his chin and looked at Liam before pulling his gun out and pointing it at his head; earning a reaction out of the two other men in the room.

“Nicholai, calm down, you can’t just kill a civilian!” – Tyrell exclaimed. Carlos was just about to put himself between the two of them until Liam rose his hand at him, making him stop in his tracks. Nicholai seemed amused at this.

“Do you have a death wish, friend? Is that what this is?” – Nicholai mocked, gesturing with his hand at Liam. He didn’t say a word, but the air got suddenly cold.

Liam slowly inched closer to him, closing the space between them. Without breaking eye contact, he pressed his forehead to the barrel of Nicholai’s gun.

“Go ahead, pull that trigger…” – Liam said in a low tone – “See what happens…”

The men stared each other down for a few moments.

‘I know that you know…’

A few seconds later, Nicholai gave a wicked smile and raised the gun away from Liam’s head.

“You are wrong in the head, friend.” – he laughed while putting his gun away – “I like that, keep things fun…” – he smirked, then turned to go back to the subway cars – “Tyrell, Carlos, come with me, there’s been a change of plans.” – he ordered, and disappeared under the stairs, Tyrell eyed Liam with caution before following suit.

Carlos, on the other hand, approached Liam and grabbed him by the shoulders – “What the hell was that?” – he asked Liam – “What Nicholai did was uncalled for, but you…” – he went quiet for a second – “Why did you do that? I thought you wanted to see Jill again…” – Liam looked away, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I’m sorry…” – he said – “I have a short temper and I can be a little impulsive when something gets on my nerves.” – he was a bit embarrassed, and Carlos could see it. He sighed and gave Liam a light tap on the cheek, making him look back at him.

“Just don’t get yourself hurt again, okay?” – he asked – “Jill’s already gonna beat the shit outta me for the state of your hands…” – he laughed – “And she’s gonna put a bullet up my ass if you die on me” – this earned a small laugh from Liam.

“Yeah, you’re probably right” – Carlos smiled at his response, then gestured Liam to go downstairs with him.

Once they entered the car, Mikhail was still sitting, with Nicholai and Tyrell standing close to him. Liam idled around right outside the car while Carlos went to join the other men.

“So, are we ready to depart?” – he asked Mikhail, who gave a small nod.

“Yes, there has been a small change of plans, though. Nicholai and I will escort the civilians out of the city.” – then he gestured at both Carlos and Tyrell – “You two will stay here, there’s orders to rescue Dr. Nathaniel Flint” – Liam froze at the mention of the name. Did he hear that right? He listened closely, never entering the car.

“He’s supposed to have some idea of how to make a vaccine, eradicate this disease…” – Mikhail paused for a second before continuing – “His last given location was in Umbrella’s Central Offices, head there; you might be able to get his exact location within and communicate with him through the building’s security system.” – he explained before giving his final order – “Once you’ve located him, report back to me, we will send a chopper for extraction.”

“Yes, Sir.” – Tyrell and Carlos said in unison, then exited the car. Liam laid against the wall as he saw the two men approach, the subway setting in motion behind them.

“We need to go get Dr. Flint” – Tyrell said to Carlos. He nodded, then turned to look at Liam

“You’re coming with us, Pretty Boy” – he said, jokingly. Then lowered his vision at Liam’s bloody hands – “How are your hands?”

“It was but a scratch” – he answered, grabbing his axe and flipping it in the air for a second before catching it – “See? I can fight” – he said, smirking at Carlos.

“Alright, lovebirds” – Tyrell interrupted – “We gotta go get Flint” – the other two nodded and followed him out of the station. Liam tried his best to play fool, but curiosity got to him.

“So…” – he started – “What do you guys know of this Dr. Flint?... Or is it classified?” – Tyrell and Carlos looked at each other for a second, then Tyrell nodded at the other man, allowing him to speak.

“He’s supposed to be one of Umbrella’s top scientists, and the only one alive in the city who knows how to engineer a cure for the virus.” – Carlos stated as they moved forward, Liam scoffed loudly – “What?” – Carlos asked.

‘Shit’.

“Nothing, just… you would think that somebody as important as him would be out of the city by now…” – Liam said.

‘Nice save’.

“Yeah, well… That’s our job” – Carlos responded – “We’ll find him, and Jill. Then we’ll call for that chopper and get the hell out of here.” – he said, turning to give Liam a small smile. He smiled back for a second, but it faded as soon as Carlos went to look forward again. His mind was racing and he didn’t know what would happen once they found Nathaniel. Once he saw him.

As they pressed on towards their final destination, the population of zombies seemed to get higher and higher. Like they multiplied by the minute, or were drawn to them for some reason.

The three men fought tooth and nail their way through the streets, until the unavoidable happened.

“Shit” – Tyrell cursed – “I’m out of ammo!” – he shouted as he used the butt of his rifle to keep the flesh eaters away from him.

“I’m running low, too!” – Carlos answered, then turned to see Liam pull out his axe from yet another undead head, an idea springing to mind – “Hey Ty! Stab them in the head with you knife!” – he shouted at his partner – “Just don’t get bit!” – Tyrell laughed at that last sentence.

They were a couple blocks away from Umbrella’s Main Office Building, inching their way through the thick swarm of zombies, when the earth shook violently beneath their feet.

“What the fuck?!” – Liam shouted, quickly grabbing Carlos by the arm to keep his balance.

“An earthquake?” – Carlos guessed, stumbling around. Liam shook his head.

“That sounded like and explosion to me…” – he said, Carlos frowned his brows at him.

“Wait, you heard it coming? How-?” – but he was abruptly interrupted by Tyrell’s cries of pain. He had fallen due to the floor shaking, and a bunch of zombies swarmed around him, latching onto him like tics on an old stray dog. – “Tyrell!! No!” – Carlos cried out, shooting a few bullets at the swarm.

“No! Stop!” – Tyrell yelled, taking a hand grenade out of his pocket and pulling on the ring – “Stay away! Don’t waste more bullets on me!” – Carlos saw what he had done; he let out a frustrated grunt and turned to grab Liam’s hand, leading him away from the explosion.

It seemed to clear most of the zombies, just a couple remaining, but far enough to just walk, or rather, run away from. So, they did, and hid in an alley for a minute to catch their breaths.

Carlos leaned against a wall and let himself slide down to the floor, sitting with his head in his hands, still breathing heavy. Liam looked at him with sympathy, and sat down next to him, placing a hand on the other man’s knee.

“I’m sorry…” – he said quietly. Carlos sucked in a breath, lifting his head to look at Liam.

“It’s okay” – he started – “He died like a soldier…” – then he looked away into nothingness – “We have to be prepared and ready to die in action. It’s a part of the job. It’s what we do.” – he said, trying to convince himself that it was okay, that this was all good. Just a casualty. Tyrell would be replaced by another soldier.

‘And if I die, I’ll just be replaced, too…’

Liam frowned as he saw Carlos’ expression. He looked resigned, painfully so. – “And what about his family?” – Liam asked. Carlos turned his head to look at him, genuinely puzzled at the question.

“What about it?” – he asked back.

“I dunno” – Liam shrugged as he answered – “Doesn’t he have somebody waiting for him back home?” – Carlos looked away with a small, breathy laugh escaping his lips.

“I don’t know about him. But most of us don’t...” – he said quietly. Liam inched closer to see Carlos’ face better.

“Do you?” – he asked. Carlos was quiet for a moment.

“No…” – he said without turning to look at Liam. The other man could see his eyes were glossy, though. Carlos felt Liam’s eyes on him, so he run his forearm through his eyes quickly, sucking in a breath through his nose and then turning to face the man with the best fake smile he could muster out. – “And what about you? Anybody waiting for that pretty face to come back home?”

‘Ah, there it is’

“Not really, no.” – Liam answered – “Nobody other than Jill.” – Carlos looked to the side and pursed his lips slightly.

“You two datin’?” – he asked. The question caught Liam so off guard, he couldn’t help but snort at it. – “What?” – Carlos asked, slightly amused at [Y/N]’s reaction.

“Nothing, nothing…” – he said – “Just… you’re unbelievable. You know that, right?” – Carlos looked away sheepishly.

‘Oh, that’s cute’

“And to answer your question, no. We’ve been friends since high-school, though.” – he continued – “We’ve been together through a lot of shit, more than a friend, she’s a sister to me.” – Carlos turned back to look at him as he reminisced about the old times. – “But hey! Now you’ve got somebody!” – Liam said suddenly, giving Carlos a pat on the back. Carlos raised a brow and smiled at him.

“What?” – he asked, even if he knew where this was going; Liam just laughed in return.

“You’re gonna make me say it, huh?” – Liam said, Carlos just looked at him expectantly – “Fine then, I’ll say it. You’ve grown into me, Mophead.” – he continued – “Plus, I’m pretty sure Jill would miss you, too. You’re not allowed to die in battle anymore.” – Carlos looked down and gave the most genuine smile he has given in a long time.

“Same goes to you, Pretty Boy” – he responded – “Don’t go dying on me now, okay?” – there was a palpable sincerity in his words. Liam looked away and down into his hands.

“Yeah, okay…” – he said quietly. Despite de positivity in his words, his tone was the complete opposite. Carlos noticed this, and almost instinctively tried to make things better.

“Let me check your wounds” – he said, reaching for Liam’s hands. The other man quickly flinched away, though; not letting him get close to touching them. Carlos was confused at this sudden reaction, and looked at Liam’s face with a puzzled frown on his own. Liam quickly realized the odd nature in his actions and decided to evade the situation, standing up.

“They’re fine, no need to take a look.” – he said, then offered to help Carlos on his feet. Carlos eyed Liam’s bandaged hand, then his face, then accepted the offer and got up from the ground. – “See? I can lift you up no problem, they don’t even hurt anymore” – Liam said. Carlos found Liam’s need to show him his hands were okay, but not actually letting him see them, kind of weird. He remained quiet about it, though; not wanting to press things too far.

“So… Should we try to find Jill before you continue with the mission?” – Liam asked to break the silence. Carlos nodded at him.

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea, she will certainly be helpful.” – he responded while checking his rifle for ammo. Liam walked up a few steps ahead of him, almost out of the alley.

“Right then, let’s go find her, then we’ll go get Nathaniel…” – he said without thinking.

“Right…” – Carlos responded, then paused for a second.

‘Wait.’

‘Fuck.’

They both realized of Liam’s error at the same time. Carlos sped his pace up to catch out to Liam. Reaching out to grab on his shoulder – “I didn’t mention Dr. Flint’s first name.” – Carlos said with a stern voice. Liam tensed up and didn’t move a muscle – “Liam …? What do you know?” – He turned his head slowly to look at Carlos, a drop of sweat going down his forehead.

“Uh…” - but Carlos’ gaze was adverted, Liam turned his head back around to look at the source of the distraction, quickly noticing Jill running down the street with the monster right at her ankles.

‘Is that a fucking flamethrower?’ they thought simultaneously. The damn thing was wielding the weapon, spewing flames at Jill furiously.

“Jill!” – Liam exclaimed, both him and Carlos running after her and the beast. – “HEY!” – Liam yelled at it – “Over here, you ugly fuck!” – he said, throwing a piece of debris at it. It seemed to be effective, since the monster turned away from Jill and seemed to be focused on Liam entirely.

“Okay… Now what?” – Carlos asked him, getting ready for orders. The creature slowly walking up to them.

“I-… I, uh...” – Liam stuttered, taking a few steps back.

“You don’t have a plan?!” – Carlos yelled. Then the creature fired at them, both men threw themselves away, barely missed by the flames.

“Go get Jill, I’ll entertain this freak for a while” – Liam said, Carlos protested.

“She’s not the one in need of assistance right now, you know?” – Liam pushed him out of the way as another set of flames came out of the creature’s weapon.

“She’s smart, got get her and make a plan to take this damn thing out while I distract it!”

“Right, don’t get killed!” – Carlos said before running up to Jill, who was already approaching from behind the beast.

“I won’t” – Liam said quietly to himself, before running away from the monster’s fire.

“Supercop! You’re alive!” – Carlos exclaimed at Jill once he reached her. She was not amused.

“Why did you leave him behind with that thing on his ass?!” – she questioned, following both the creature and its new target. Carlos ran beside her.

“He just wanted to get that thing off of you then told me to come get you. He’s as stubborn as you, you know?” – Carlos explained. Jill scoffed at him – “Yeah, I know” – she said before aiming at the creature, firing a few times. But it was useless, it was fixated on Liam now.

Liam jumped and stumbled around the streets, the fire grazing his ankles as he moved forward. Jill concentrated her sight on the creature’s back, then had an idea.

“The fuel tank…” – she said to herself before turning to Carlos – “We need to fire at the fuel tank!”

“And what about Liam? What if the explosion reaches him?” – Carlos questioned.

“Then we need to warn him, don’t we?” – Jill said, pointing at Carlos’ radio on his left ear. Carlos nodded and pressed the button.

As soon as he heard his radio beep, Liam picked it up – “WHAT?” – he screamed into it as he ran.

“We have a plan” – Carlos started – “Try to keep it around, but don’t let it get too close to you, okay?”

“Alright, I’ll do my best!” – He huffed loudly into the radio before setting it down, then turning back to their general direction, trying his damn best to pick up the pace.

Once it was close enough, both Jill and Carlos started to fire at the tank, but their bullets seemed to just bounce off.

“Shit” – Jill said, before grabbing her radio – “Liam, it’s me! Do you think you can help us make a dent on that fucker’s fuel tank?” – the radio beeped back immediately.

“You got it, Bluebird.” – Liam responded, then looked back at the creature while he put his radio away. Up ahead, he spotted a set of fire escape stairs on a building, and across it, a street light, and a shop with nylon awnings hanging out front.

‘That’s it!’

He ran up to the set of stairs and got to climbing as high and as fast as he could, the monster following suit, simply climbing on the railings like it was a ladder. It pointed to fire at Liam once he saw he wasn’t moving, but Liam quickly jumped away at the street light, using it to swing himself across the street. He grabbed his hand-axe and turned around mid-air, throwing it at the beast’s fuel tank with such force that it sunk into it, fuel dripping out of it as he landed on the awning, then the floor.

Jill and Carlos saw the whole thing from afar, noticing Liam run up to them while the creature dropped itself from the fire escape stairs and onto the floor. Jill let Liam catch up to them before signaling Carlos to fire at it.

They shot at the tank in unison, and, in a split second, the tank exploded on the creature’s back, engulfing its entire body in flames. The three of them watched it stumble a few steps forward before falling face first on the ground.

Finally able to relax, Carlos gave Liam a playful punch on the shoulder – “Look at you, I didn’t know you were a gymnast!” – he exclaimed celebratorily.

Liam scratched the back of his head and laughed nervously. He wasn’t. Never in his life had he gone to any sort of gymnastic classes, Carlos didn’t know this, but Jill did. And he could just feel her suspicious eyes on him.

“I don’t know about you guys” – Liam started, desperately trying to change the subject – “But all that running’s gotten me hungry. How about we go scavenging?” – Jill rose her hand as to gesture, but just as she was about to say something, her stomach growled audibly.

“I could go for a bite” – Carlos chuckled, looking at Jill’s frustrated expression.

“Fine, let’s go find something.”

The trio walked around until they found a pizza place in half good condition, the bright and colorful neon sign reading “Pete’s Piece a’ Pizza”. They walked in, Jill and Carlos pointing their guns, scanning for any potential dangers. It was clear.

“I’m gonna go check the kitchen, you guys relax for a minute, okay?” – Liam said before disappearing behind the counter.

Jill sat down on the floor against said counter, Carlos sitting right across from her. She started to bounce her knee on the floor in anxiety as they waited. Something has been eating at her for a while now, and she couldn’t help but to say something.

“Something’s wrong…” – She said at Carlos. He raised his brows and gave a breathy laugh.

“We can go sit at one of the tables if you want-” – he started, but Jill cut him off.

“That’s not what I mean…” – she said, rubbing her temples – “It’s Liam” – Carlos looked at the kitchen’s general direction.

“I don’t hear any struggle…” – he said, while Jill just shook her head – “If you mean his hands, well, I did my best to bandage those, though he won’t let me take another look at them…” – he stated.

“No, that’s not- Wait. What happened to his hands?” – Carlos looked away nervously, but Jill just dismissed it – “Anyway, that’s not what I’m saying…” – she looked down, Carlos finally noticed her distress.

“So, what are you saying?” – he probed. Jill rose her head and looked at him in the eyes with a stern and deeply worried expression.

“He’s hiding something, either out of fear or… Hell, I don’t know…” – she said, letting her back hit the counter.

“Well, if anybody knew, that should be you, right? He told me you guys are practically like brother and sister.” – Carlos said calmly, Jill was more frustrated by the second, he didn’t understand, he couldn’t understand.

“Yeah, I should but I don’t… I haven’t even seen him in years, and…” – Jill sounded so disturbed, Carlos didn’t say a word and let her recollect herself before she spoke again. – “Carlos…” – She started, looking at him dead in the eyes with an unmeasurable mixture of confusion and worry. – “Liam, he… He was pronounced d-”

“Already talking about me behind my back?” – Liam popped from the kitchen with a cutting board on his right hand, a fresh pizza on it. – “I’m surprised, Bluebird. I thought you didn’t like to gossip…” he said calmly as he set the board on the ground between Jill and Carlos, then sat down.

“Liam…” – Jill said, giving him a look. He knew what he interrupted, but ignored her and went to grab a slice.

“Just eat.” – he said without looking up from his slice, then bit down.

Jill gave a defeated sigh and went to grab a piece. Carlos had no idea what was going on, so he just followed their lead. Though, something was in his mind, too. Just, how did Liam know Dr. Flint’s first name? And all the things he had said about Umbrella… Was all this connected to whatever Jill was trying to tell him?

The three of them sat and ate in silence, the air thick with discomfort. Once the pizza was all gone, Liam had an idea.

“Jill?” – he started.

“What, Liam?” – She snarked back, she was clearly upset at him, he winced at her tone, but continued nevertheless.

“Remember…” – he paused for a second – “Remember what we used to do? Back in school, when we were having a bad time?” – he asked. Jill looked at him kind of put off by the question, she looked down and gave a heavy sigh, but answered anyway.

“Yeah… Yeah, I do” – She said without looking back up – “We would sit in your dad’s car in some convenience store driveway, plug in our mixtape in the cassette reader, and sing our lungs out while drinking slushies” – she reminisced, her expression getting softer as she spoke.

Liam smiled softly – “You always wanted the blue flavor, I always chose red” – he said, and Jill continued.

“And it would tint our mouths for hours as we sang…” – now she was smiling softly, too. Carlos kept quiet and enjoyed the sudden, but relaxing change in the atmosphere, even if he felt a bit out of place, a bit of an outsider.

“And sometimes we didn’t even tell each other what was going on, but we sang anyway, we had that moment and let it all out, together” – Liam finished. Jill finally looked back up at him.

“Where are you going with this?” she asked him. Liam simply moved to sit next to her, his back relaxed against the counter. Jill was having none of it.

“Oh, no… No, absolutely not” – She started, but Liam interrupted her.

“It’s fine, I’ll sing, I just need you to listen… okay?” – He was never good with his own words, but he had a habit of using song to express what he was feeling, whether good, bad… or terrible.

He looked up at Carlos, who was sitting across them, awkwardly. Liam wanted to express himself freely, and he felt Carlos’ presence was an important part of it.

“Come on over here.” He said, tapping the empty spot beside him. Carlos looked at him a bit puzzled and nervous. Liam gave him a sad, solemn look.

“Please?” – he asked, and that was all it took for Carlos to comply. He sat down close to Liam, his heart racing. He didn’t understand why, though. He had flirted with the other man plenty of times before, and had been alone with him.

Something about this felt more personal, more intimate, and it had him almost trembling, his heart pounding against his chest.

There was a brief moment of silence as Liam scooted closer to Carlos. Jill rested her head on Liam’s shoulder, and he rested his head on hers. Liam gently took one of Carlos’ hands and placed it on his lap, then laid his own hand on top. Carlos turned to look at him, but he was looking forward into nothingness, he looked so tired, in so much pain. Carlos wanted to take it all away from him.

Liam gave a heavy sigh, before starting to hum a soft, slow tune.

Then, he sang.

“Sing me to sleep Sing me to sleep I'm tired and I I want to go to bed

Sing me to sleep Sing me to sleep And then leave me alone Don't try to wake me in the morning Cause I will be gone…”

Jill frowned heavily, fighting back her tears as she clung onto Liam’s arm.

“Don't feel bad for me I want you to know Deep in the cell of my heart I will feel so glad to go…”

Carlos looked at Liam with sad eyes of his own, gently squeezing his thigh, Liam didn’t look back at him, but chocked back a sob as he kept singing.

“Sing me to sleep Sing me to sleep I don't want to wake up on my own anymore

Sing to me Sing to me I don't want to wake up on my own anymore

Don't feel bad for me I want you to know Deep in the cell of my heart I really want to go…”

Jill cried softly into Liam’s shoulder; he gave a few hitched breaths of his own as tears ran down his face.

“Sing me to sleep Sing me to sleep…”

Liam’s voice held so much hurt in it, Carlos couldn’t help but rest his forehead on Liam’s shoulder, inching even closer.

“There is another world There is a better world Well, there must be Hmm, there must be…”

Liam linked his fingers with Carlos’ and felt his body shiver, both of his shoulders now damp, along with his own face.

“There is another world There is a better world…”

And they stayed that way, they don’t know for how long, but exhaustion started to creep up on them slowly, they relaxed into each other, giving into it, and fell asleep holding each other.

#RE #resident evil #resident evil 3 #resident evil x reader #kinda #carlos oliveira x OC #transmasc oc #carlos oliveira #jill valentine #tyrell patrick #nicholai ginovaef #mikhail victor #nemesis #angst #angst baby #emotional vulnerability

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the-insomniac-emporium · 3 years

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Wounded Love (Lady Dimitrescu/F!Reader) Pt. 3

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for blood/violence and language Genre: Action with a lil bit of fluff Warnings: Lil bit of blood Notes: There's an unnamed character in here who may or may not end up as recurring in my stories. I don't really have anything in particular planned for her, she's kinda just here to fill a role/allow for some easter egg type shit in the next chapter. Previous Chapters: Pt. 1, Pt. 2

{Wounded Love 3: Bloody Valentine (No, not that Valentine)}

“Mother Miranda, I must insist, if these lycans stray any further they might start feasting on the village as well! Pray tell, who will you use for research then? We can’t just-... Forgive me… Mhmm. Yes, I understand. Of course… Have a good night, Mother Miranda,” Lady Dimitrescu said, before setting her phone down with a loud thunk. Her hands shake a little, and for a moment you worry that her vanity won’t survive the coming moments. Then you make eye contact with her reflection, giving her an encouraging smile, watching as her gaze softens. “I’m afraid there’s nothing she can do, my dear. I cannot allow Heisenberg’s negligence to go unpunished, but we will have to take care of it on our own, without Mother Miranda’s support.”

“Is that wise, love? To go behind her back like this? I can’t imagine she’ll be terribly pleased if we cause chaos for one of her favored few,” you replied, clicking your tongue as you thought things over. Again you see anger cloud Alcina’s face, though she makes sure not to direct it at you.

“We are not the ones who started this mess,” she reminded you, through clenched teeth. “But we will be the ones to end it, one way or another. I don’t care if I have to gut that wretched man-thing and bring Miranda his corpse as proof of his incompetence! He has shown his lack of loyalty hundreds of times… and now he will pay.” Gulping, you rise to your feet, wanting to comfort your girlfriend. While you had understood that your injury angered her, you hadn’t (until this moment) realized the sheer intensity of that rage. How much blood would be shed before this was over?...

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

Crimson drips down the beast’s side, across matted fur, before hitting the wooden floor. A stench as awful as you had ever found filled the air, only made tolerable by the nearby presence of scented candles. What a mess, you think, glad that you wouldn’t be the one to clean it up. Why had the girls insisted on bringing the damn thing inside? Couldn’t they have simply snatched a few teeth from its jaw as a prize? Somehow you doubted that the thought had even crossed their minds. Violence was a passion of theirs, and they preferred their trophies to be as large as the effort they put into getting it.

“How close to the path did you find it?” You asked after finishing your examination of the lycan. Next to you, the eldest daughter is rapidly taking notes in a leather-bound journal. Both of her siblings stand near the fireplace, hands held out next to the flames, needing to warm up after being outside for so long. It wasn’t even that cold of a day, with temperatures averaging around eighteen degrees celsius. All the snowfall from the prior week had now melted. While you knew of the family’s weakness, you also knew that they had bundled up before leaving, and had even taken a torch with them in the hopes of using it on a lycan. Their powers had taken somewhat of a hit, temporarily, but not nearly enough to prevent them from killing a single lycan.

“Heard it howling almost as soon as we left the castle. We couldn’t smell it until halfway to the village, though. Once we could we tried to track it, only for the stupid thing to come charging at us. Must have been eight, maybe ten, meters away by the time we collided,” Cassandra answered. There’s a bit of a shiver to her voice, and you can’t help the rush of sympathy you feel in response. Being out on the path, wearing little more than a dress and scarf, had been absolute hell for you. Even if it was warmer outside now, you imagined that being weak to the cold just about made up for the difference. “There was a little more howling once we started walking back here. Louder, if not closer. Heisenbitch isn’t even trying to keep these fucking things in check.”

“Cassandra, language!” Came a voice in the distance, making everyone present look up at once. Strutting down the stairs was a clearly miffed Alcina, eyes narrowed, body tense. “Did you three really have to bring the mutt inside? Surely you advocated against this, Bela? Or did you think I wanted new bloodstains right by the entrance, where everyone can see them?” Next to you Bela winces, but doesn’t respond, too worried about angering her mother further. “And you, my dear, what on Earth are you doing on the floor? You should be resting, in an actual chair, if not lying in bed awaiting my return. There’s enough for me to worry about without you limping around on a useless leg!”

Now it was your turn to wince.

“Please, love, I know you’re stressed, but I can still help. Given enough time I could help ascertain these things’ weaknesses. At the very least I could pass on what I learned during my fight with one,” you pleaded. Then you tried to stand up, wanting to prove yourself, only to stumble, barely avoiding a faceplant- and only doing so because of Bela’s quick reaction time. She helped you to your feet, letting you lean on her, then lead you towards a bench. Begrudgingly you sit back down. “You’re only doing this because I got hurt. Helping you in your endeavor to avenge me is the least I can do.”

“Don’t be foolish,” Alcina snapped, now just a couple meters away from you. Even with that space between you, her presence was intimidating, and you almost felt like a child being scolded. “Were you to get hurt again, how would we avenge you? If you fall by your own hand, there will be naught I can do other than lock you away somewhere without any dangerous elements. What sort of existence would that be for you? I simply can’t allow it, no exceptions.” At this you pout, feeling rather disappointed. It’s not as if you were asking to carry a gun and shoot Heisenberg yourself! Not that you would be opposed to doing so, of course. “Try to put yourself in my place, my dear. Could you live with yourself if you failed to protect me?”

“I suppose I could not, love. Very well, I shall simply root you on from here, and kiss away any injuries you return with,” you replied, at last giving in. Then you found yourself smiling… and on the receiving end of a very soft forehead kiss. “Nothing will separate us, my love. None can tear apart that which the universe has stitched together.”

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

“Like I said, my Lady, I already want him dead. Did you really think that your family was the only one to suffer because of his machinations? I know half a dozen people who would love to put a bullet in that fucker’s skull, bare mims,” the huntress said, white teeth showing in her half-smirk. There was an odd coolness to her voice, like this whole ordeal was just another job, and you couldn’t help but feel uncertain about her. Could she really be the solution to Alcina’s problem? You couldn’t even judge her arsenal, considering she had been instructed to come unarmed. After all, she was a hunter of monsters, with a sizable history to her name. If not for her hatred of Heisenberg, you would never have felt comfortable letting her come within two hundred meters of your girlfriend.

“How can I be sure that you’ll succeed? The last thing I want is to have that wretched man-thing come crawling out of the filth he lives in, angry and coming for vengeance,” Alcina responded, scrutinizing gaze locked on the huntress.

“Didn’t Duke give you my file? Or at least read the good bits out loud? I’ve been in my fair share of scraps, with all sorts of bioweapon mutant freaks. Besides, I don’t plan on leaving any receipts behind. If he manages to survive, which is already one hell of an if, there’s no way he can prove that you asked me to do it. Considering he’s already seen my face, and knows I want him dead… yeah, he won’t bother accusing you, not when I’m in the picture, and certainly not when you’ve got such a big reputation for following Mother Miranda’s word down to the very last letter. So, you gonna make this official, or what?” The huntress asked, gesturing her arms wide. Although you’re still not convinced, Alcina nods quietly, seeming ready to make her decision. Regardless of how you feel about the stranger in front of you, you’re more than willing to support your girlfriend in whatever she planned.

“Very well, huntress. Show us just what you’re capable of.”

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Flames licked at her heels, even as she charged forward, tickling like hot breaths against her skin. Behind her half a dozen lycans roared and screeched in unison. Smoke and ashes flew upwards, into the air, but could not poison her lungs, not when she had come prepared. Still, the mask was not as easy to breathe in as she had hoped, making her chest heave with effort at each intake of air. Good thing I’ll be gone soon, she thought, sparing a glance behind her as she ran. Dozens of trees were aflame, and countless glowing eyes watched from between the branches. They wouldn’t be there for much longer, not with what she had done.

Soon enough an explosion would shake the Earth. Then, finally, both the lycans who had killed her father and the man who desecrated the remains would be dead. And if a certain countess happened to pay her for her services? All the better, really. Funerals could be expensive, especially in such a remote village. More than that… there was no guarantee that she’d be able to outrun Mother Miranda on her own. A little money would make the flight out a hell of a lot nicer.

Assuming she made it that far. There was another scream behind her, this one more human, though somewhat warped by mechanics. It wasn’t a pained cry. No, it was filled with rage. Clearly Heisenberg had come out of his lair, hearing the fireworks, finding his scrap metal and werewolf army in chaos. From the sound of things- metal against metal, electricity crackling- he was coming her way.

“Fuck fuck fuck!” She muttered, desperately trying to get to higher ground. Even if the lycans succumbed to the overwhelming fire, it wouldn’t be hard for their leader to overcome. But the huntress was still too close to her explosives to risk activating the detonator. Just a bit farther, she thought, ignoring the way her lungs ached. Rocks kicked up with every step, loud enough to be heard from a distance, and made traction harder to keep. In the end she had to scramble to get up the side of a short cliff. A few scrapes appeared on her hands, making her curse under her breath.

But with one last movement, pulling herself up with both arms, she was finally far enough to be relatively safe. In one clean second she turned around, pulled the detonator out of its pouch and clicked the trigger. Just like that, a forest blazing turns into a mushroom cloud of pure hellfire. The setting sun makes for a beautiful backdrop, and the sight almost brings a tear to the huntress’ eyes. For a few moments she just enjoys the view. Then, without hesitation or remorse, she starts to walk away, mentally congratulating herself for a job well done.

Until something shoots past her head with terrifying speed. Before she can react another sharp piece of metal flies past her, grazing her arm, and there’s a blood-curdling roar from behind her. Then she’s running, fast as she can, pulse pounding harder than it ever has. One hand goes to the rifle on her back, pulling it out as quickly as she can. The area is rocky, with plenty of outcrops, perfect to hide behind (assuming there weren’t any hidden metal deposits). Quickly she ducks behind one, crouching to keep her head out of sight. Mere milliseconds later another metal spike slams into the ground just beyond her cover.

In the distance, more screams pierce the air, and something heavy drags itself across the ground. It almost sounds like a tank rolling through the woods. The thought alone worries the huntress, but she had never been one to let her fear control her. So she double checks her rifle, adjusts the scope, and pops out of cover. Less than a second later she has her target in her sights. It’s Heisenberg, for sure, more metal than man, but dripping with red. One press of the trigger sends a bullet straight for his ugly head. Unsurprisingly, it’s not enough to pierce his cranium, instead making him mad as hell.

Which is why automatic guns were invented, probably. The huntress holds the trigger down this time, though briefly, before dashing to the next piece of cover. She repeats the process a few times, hoping to kill the man before he could climb the cliff she stood on. If he managed to get up there with her… no, she couldn’t think about that, not now. She had to focus.

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

Hidden among the trees, the Dimitrescu sisters watched as plumes of smoke rose in the distance. Even though they had been aware of the huntress’ plan, they hadn’t expected this much carnage. It was certainly exciting! But they really couldn’t see much from where they were. Getting closer was probably a horrible idea, and yet Cassandra shared a meaningful look with Daniela. A split second later they were forming a swarm, rushing into the trees, leaving their elder sister to yell after them.

“Mother’s going to kill me,” Bela said, before rolling her eyes and following. Maybe she could at least keep them out of trouble?... Probably not.

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

Metal hands wrap around the huntress’ throat, squeezing hard, but do not twist or otherwise break their prey. No, Heisenberg does not intend to end this that quickly. This rodent had taken so much from him, set his plans back by decades. He was going to kill her slowly. When she still fights back, pulling a knife from her boot and trying to stab whatever she can reach, he does little else but laugh. It’s a crazed cackling that echoes through the surrounding rocky hills.

Just barely loud enough to drown out the sound of insects buzzing.

“Fuck that guy!” Someone shouted, right as a sickle descended upon the monstrous Heisenberg’s neck. The first slice isn’t enough to sever the connection, which is why it’s immediately followed by a second, from another sister, then a third, from the eldest, that finally does the job. Just like that the hands release from the huntress’ throat, and she gasps for air. Coughs leave her distracted as the sisters move to surround her. “Good thing we wanted to see the show up close and personal, eh?” Daniela asked, twirling her sickle with a little giggle.

“You idiots are just lucky I followed you,” Bela added, glaring at her sister. Internally, she was relieved that the end result was a success. Still, she worried about what her mother would think, and certainly didn’t intend to voice her satisfaction at delivering the killing blow. “Now let’s get back, before mother assumes the worst and comes to get us herself.” Sighing, she extends a hand to help the huntress up. Though their mutual enemy had been defeated, there was still much to be done. Who knew how Mother Miranda would react? Who, if anyone, would take Heisenberg’s place? There was plenty to be unsure about, and Bela let her mind wander the whole way back, hoping that things would only get better from here...

#lady dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x reader #alcina dimitrescu x reader #alcina x reader #I know the reader didn't have a big part in this #but don't worry next chap will have a bigger part #partially cuz reader's leg will actually be a bit better by then #gotta give time to heal!!!

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