#i just hope it’s not insane emotional manipulation or anything on anyones part i don’t know. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cutesuki--bakugou · 4 years

Text

Anything, For You

This is a continuation of Anything. Please be sure to read that part first if you want some context!

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Rough Sex (Vaginal and Anal), Threesome (Double Penetration), Weed / Alcohol Use, Rough Oral Sex (blow job, face fucking), Public Foreplay, Public Humiliation, Spanking, Choking, Obsessive Reader, Toxic / Power Imbalanced Relationship, Emotional Manipulation, Suggested Dubcon / Reluctant / Compliant Reader

Words: 12,128

Pairing: Drummer!Bakugou Katsuki x Superfan!Fem!Reader x Guitarist!Kirishima Eijirou

Quirkless, Punk rock band AU

Not specifically written for, but using it for the @bnhabookclub ‘s members bingo event!

Crossed off: Threesome

Bingo Masterlist

BTW, please blacklist the tag cutesuki-lemons if you do not want to see this content from my blog. I will no longer be tagging with specific keywords for this type of content.Thank you~

Due to the nature of this post, the characters are 18+

Art in banner by me

Tag list: @lady-bakuhoe , @gallickingun , @unbreakableeiji , @boom-bakugou , @honeytama , @wakaoujisenhime , @ikinabi , @thotpatrolcaptain , @1-800-callmekatsuki , @tomurasprincess , @bratwritings

You nervously tightened your grip on the small clutch in your hands, digging your nails into the faux leather and ignoring the sting of the metal pointed studs against your skin. For a few minutes now, you had just been standing outside of the club Garden, listening to the loud music and watching the flashing neon lights every time the door opened. With each group of people leaving, stumbling out drunk and high off adrenaline from dancing, the same amount were let in from an insanely long line, which even curved around the building to where you couldn’t see. There were so many people waiting to go in, and yet, you knew that you could just bypass this line and go on in.

Why were you so nervous?

It wasn’t the thought that you would be glared or yelled at by the people waiting if you skipped the line. Sure, it might make you a bit embarrassed if they picked at you, but that wasn’t the problem. No, it was who was waiting inside the club and who gave you that exact privilege to just come on in that terrified you.

Bakugou 10:50 pm: come to the club Garden downtown around 1 am. just show your ID at the door and theyll let you in past the line.

Me 10:51 pm: Just me?

Bakugou 10:51 pm: just you, babe. your shitty friends arent invited.

After releasing a trembling breath, you opened your clutch to take a quick look at your phone, giving a small groan at the time that showed 1:02 am. It was time to go in, but you were so damn nervous. How could you not be? Showing up to a strange and very crowded club, to hang out and drink with your favorite people - or, well, person - on this planet? With what happened earlier that night, you knew that any type of debauchery could go down, and the stinging welts on your asscheek were testament to that. But there was going to be way more involved. More people, alcohol, and most likely some type of drugs, for sure. You knew that you’d need to be vigilant, but being in Bakugou’s presence again, you weren’t sure you’d have the willpower to say no to anything that was handed your way.

Suddenly, your phone buzzed in your hand, startling you enough to make you jump and almost lose your balance on your chunky, boot style platform heels. Looking at the screen, the fire in your cheeks grew hotter, reading the text that Bakugou had just sent you.

Bakugou 1:03 am: where are you at, babygirl? scared?

Me 1:03 am: No, I’m about to come in. There’s… a lot of people.

Bakugou 1:04 am: fuck them and come inside. there’s someone waiting to bring you up.

Releasing a trembling breath, you put your phone back in your clutch and pulled out your ID instead, gathering your courage to walk up to the front door. One of the two bouncers immediately looked down at you with a threatening posture, though his demeanor changed at the sight of your timid presence.

“Skipping the line?”

“I… have VIP permissions. From Bakugou Katsuki… I’m [f/n] [l/n]. He said I should be on a list.”

Taking your ID, the bouncer first checked it over with a flashlight to confirm its authenticity, before picking up a clipboard that was resting on a stool beside him. It only took him a moment before finding your name, smiling and giving a nod. “Yep, there you are. Follow me.” Putting the clipboard down and handing you the ID back, he made his way through the front door, at first holding it open for some people leaving before allowing you through.

Any objections you may have heard from the people in line were immediately drowned out by the music, the heavy beat shaking the ground. It was quite dark in the large industrial style building, with only blacklights and flashing neon skylights illuminating the dancefloor. Though, up one floor, you could see a loft area with mostly regular lighting, though it was dimmed, and you wondered if that’s where you would be going.

Following the bouncer as he made his way past, you used his impressive height and size to push through the crowds, since he was easily able to part the sea of bouncing drunken bodies. He led you to the stairs, as you had expected, and started to make his way up, only giving you a quick glance over his shoulder to make sure you were still following. Or to make sure that no one else was coming up, either. You weren’t sure.

As you made your way up, you felt a bit embarrassed that the stairway was mostly exposed, using your free hand to hold your short dress up against your backside to hopefully keep anyone from seeing anything private. You weren’t wearing any hose this time, since the only ones you had brought with you into town for the concert were the fishnets that Bakugou had destroyed earlier. Your only cute pair of underwear had also been destroyed, so right after the concert, you had to hunt some down. All you could find at the only store still open was a pair of cute little lace boy short style panties, which were quite sexy and were decently invisible under your dress. You knew that they would be, since you got them from a damn porn shop. There was nothing else open at midnight, so there was no choice. It still ended up perfect, though. If something else did end up happening, you assumed he would like them. Or you hoped so.

The closer you got to the loft, you realized that it was actually surrounded by glass. The only thing that was solid was the door, which was opened after a loud series of knocks from the bouncer. After a click, another man opened it up, glancing first at your guide before down to you. “She’s invited?”

“Yes. [f/n] [l/n]. Bakugou’s guest.” Stepping aside, the bouncer and what appeared to be a security guard allowed you inside, the door shutting immediately once you passed the threshold. The sudden volume difference of the room startled you a bit, as did the change in lighting, but you were quick to take in your surroundings.

There were multiple couches and chairs scattered about in strategic locations, along with tables that were already piled up with drinks. The room was much smaller than it seemed, with only one other door along the back solid wall, which you assumed was a bathroom. Then, your eyes landed on the men you adored, and your entire body instantly flushed with heat as you noticed all their eyes on you.

“Your clutch, ma’am?”

The security guard pulled you out of your stupor, holding his hand out in front of you. Nervously, you placed it in his hand, watching as he placed it in a bag behind him and zipped it up. Immediately after, he ran some type of long beeping device across the front and back of your body about an inch away, which you assumed was a metal detector. When it didn’t go off, he allowed you to walk further in with a wave of his hand, and you timidly stepped forward while pulling down your dress, clearing your throat a bit in awkwardness.

“Hey there, babygirl.” Bakugou spoke with a sly smirk on his face, holding a glass of dark colored liquor near his lips. “Finally made it. Took you fucking long enough.”

“Sorry…” Making your way towards the couch he was on, you took a moment to look at the other members, trying to control the nervous swirling of your stomach. “Nice to see you all again…”

“You were in our first meet up group, right?” Midoriya smiled at you, placing his hand on the thigh of a curvaceous woman that was placed firmly on his lap. His voice was still quite strained and cracked, worn from the performance. “Kacchan told me he invited someone, but he didn’t tell me who!”

“Because it’s none of your damn business, Deku,” With a snap of his finger as he held his hand out towards you, Bakugou commanded you over to him silently. Not even taking a second to think about it, you approached, taking his hand. He led you with only a gentle pull to stand between his legs, placing both of his hands on your outer thighs. “You look good, babygirl.”

“T-thank you-” You were cut off by the sound of a door closing, along with an annoyed whine.

“Aww, what the fuck?! Even Bakugou was able to get a girl this time, and he never does! I must have really sucked today.” Huffing, Kaminari shuffled his way towards an empty armchair, flopping down to sit with his legs stretched out in front of him, toes pointed towards the ceiling. “Bullshit.”

“You suck all the time, dunceface.”

“I do not! All the girls wanted me at our last gig.”

“Yeah, because both Deku and Kirishima were out of commission after that, so they had no other option. Don’t be such a little bitch, if you want girls, go fucking dance.” Although Bakugou’s snappy demands were directed at his companion, his glazed over crimson eyes never left your body. They scanned over every inch of you quite diligently, as if he were missing you greatly just from these few hours apart. Unsure of what to do with your hands, you let one rest tenderly on his bicep while running the other softly through his bangs, pulling the fair blonde hair loose of the light grip of sweat that stuck it to his skin. You weren’t sure if it was the lighting in the room or maybe his intoxication, but you could have sworn that you could see the tips of his ears flush with your touch.

“But I don’t want to go dance alone!” Kaminari whined, sinking further into the chair. His voice broke your concentration on the man in front of you, looking at the pouting bass player over your shoulder. It was odd, you thought, that there weren’t as many girls in here as you expected. Actually, there was only you and the girl with Midoriya, whose attention was fully on him, hands on his freckled cheeks and playfully squishing them together. Her bobbed brunette hair gave away who she was, as you had seen her in many of his social media postings, but you couldn’t quite remember her name. All you knew was that they were dating and had been friends for a very long time, but that didn’t really matter right now.

Kirishima sighed, resting his arms up over the back of the couch, his hand pulling your attention as it came to rest decently close to Bakugou’s head, though the drummer didn’t protest or seem to even notice. “C’mon, man, don’t be such a downer! I think you need to take another hit and get down there. Take Todoroki with you.”

Kaminari scoffed, looking over at the silent member of their band, who was more focused on his phone and his fancy martini looking drink than anything they were talking about. “What, so he can go stand in the middle of the dancefloor like a weirdo? He doesn’t have any dancing rhythm! He barely moves when we’re performing!”

“Yeah, but girls like him more than you, he’d help you catch their attention.”

“Now you’re all just being assholes!” Huffing, Kaminari sat up and leaned forward, snatching up a small glass pipe and the lighter beside it. “It’s not my fault that no one likes the bass players! I’m not as cool as you!”

“Hey, I’ve offered to play bass sometimes.” Kirishima grinned, reaching over to scratch the side of his nose. “But Bakugou won’t let us switch--”

“Fuck no.” Bakugou interrupted, now glowering at his friends, both of his strong hands resting on your hips firmly. “That’s too much power I’m not willing to give you, dunceface.”

“Rude.” Grumbling under his breath, Kaminari glared down at the pipe as he brought it to his lips, lighting it up and taking a hit. The smell of weed hit your nose immediately as he exhaled, the cloud of smoke leaving his lips slowly as he leaned back in the chair. “Midoriya would.”

“Because he’s a dipshit.”

“You’re so aggressive today! I think you’re the one that needs a hit, bro.”

“Fuck that shit. I’m not looking to fall asleep any time soon.”

“You’re up way past your bedtime, anyway. Grandpa.” Passing the pipe and lighter over to Kirishima as he beckoned for it, Kaminari gave a sly smirk, knowing he could press Bakugou’s buttons while you were in his way. You could feel Bakugou’s grip tighten in irritation and see his brows furrow, but to your surprise, he was quick to calm, giving an annoyed click of his tongue as he used only slight pressure to pull you to the side, gesturing to the couch for you to sit. You did so, now effectively squished between the two men, one taking a hit while the other gulped down what was left of his drink.

If you were honest, you felt quite… awkward. You didn’t really know what to do with yourself and you weren’t sure if talking would be welcomed. You were new to this tight knit group, and even though you admired and adored every single one of them, you almost felt like you didn’t belong there. Were you really worthy of being in their presence like this or being so close to Bakugou as he rested an arm around your shoulders, pulling you up against his side? It felt like a dream, and you were horrified that at any moment, you would wake up to find yourself lonely in your hotel bed.

“Want a hit, sweetheart?”

Your thoughts were disrupted by Kirishima’s pleasant ringing voice, his smile soft and comforting as he held the pipe and lighter towards you. At first, you hid your face a bit behind Bakugou’s forearm, fiddling with your nails. “I’ve never done it before… I probably shouldn’t.”

“Aw c’mon, you should! You’re safe here with us! That’s pretty cool, too, isn’t it? To have you first hit ever with your favorite band.” Kirishima’s eyes left yours for a moment as he glanced up, most likely at Bakugou, though there wasn’t anything malicious that you could see. He was genuinely being very nice about it, and so far, no one had protested. Still, you looked up at Bakugou for approval, a sly smirk crossing his lips when you did so.

“What, babygirl? Looking for permission?”

Feeling heat rush to your cheeks at his domineering tone, you nodded. “Yes. Is it okay?”

“What do you say?” His rough fingers took hold of your chin, tilting your head up as he leaned in, whisky tainted lips brushing against yours. Your heart began to race, chest heaving with steady, heavy breaths as you parted your lips expectantly. But, you were left with nothing until you answered, and you did so without a second thought or worry about what anyone else in the room might think.

“Please, Katsuki.”

A low hum resonated in his chest in satisfaction of your response, pressing his hot lips against yours to reward you for being so obedient. Or, at least, that’s how you understood it. In the few hours that you had been away from him, there hadn’t been a single moment of lucidness where you felt like you had escaped whatever hold he had placed on you. In fact, your wanting to be at his side only grew worse, to hear him praise you and reward you when you were a good girl for him.

His praise. His touch. His attention. All of it was so intoxicating, and you wanted more.

When he set your lips free after just a short moment, it took only a light bump to your chin to have you turn your head to look back at Kirishima, who was waiting patiently. He was still smiling, but there was a mischievous gleam in his eye, as if he had been waiting to see just how obedient you still were. It was gone with a blink, his pleasant and cheerful demeanor taking over as he held the pipe up between his fingers.

“Yeah? Gonna do it, sweetheart?”

“Sure,” You answered meekly, turning a bit more to face him. “Uhm… How do I do it?”

Kirishima was very thorough in his explanation of how to use the pipe, and by the time he was done, you felt confident that you could do it. Though, your confidence didn’t amount to much, as you still ended up with quite the coughing fit after your first hit. Behind the coughing and burning in your throat, you could hear Kaminari gasp out in surprise, though you couldn’t quite focus on him yet through the smoke.

“Holy shit, Kirishima, you should have just prepped it for her, that’s gonna fuck her up!”

Chuckling, Kirishima handed you a cup of water, which you gulped down eagerly. “She’s fine, that wasn’t that bad! A little too aggressive on sucking it in, but you’ll get it down. You okay?” He gave your thigh a few comforting pats, his lingering on your bare skin not quite registering in your mind as you tried to calm the burning in your throat. Thankfully, it was fading decently quick, but it still wasn’t anything like what you had expected.

“I’m okay,” You choke out after a moment, placing both the glass of water and the pipe down on the coffee table in front of you. “You guys make it look so easy!”

“That’s because they’re fucking potheads.” Bakugou pulled you back up against him. “Especially Dunceface over there. Can’t go five minutes without being high.”

“Don’t be telling lies about me, Kacchan.” Kaminari waddled a finger at his friend, and you could tell that he was feeling pretty relaxed compared to a while ago. “It’s more like three minutes.”

“Shut up. Where the fuck’s our bartender? We haven’t gotten new drinks-”

“-Let’s go down, then!” Kaminari hopped up to his feet, clapping his hands together to try and get his friends riled up. “Let’s get some drinks and dance like we’re normal people, no one’s gonna recognize us down there, it’s too dark! This VIP shit gets boring sometimes. Right, Todoroki?” With a bounce in his step, he walked over behind the couch his quiet friend was sitting on, giving him a firm smack on the shoulders. “You’re just over here on your phone! Let’s go dance!”

Todoroki took his friend shaking him from side to side like a champ, not looking away from his phone or spilling his drink. “I’ll sit at the bar, but I’m not going to dance.”

“You will after a couple of shots. Midoriya? Ochaco?”

“Let’s go, Deku!” Hopping up off his lap, the brunette took both of Midoriya’s hands, trying to pull him up with meager strength. “Let’s all go!”

With a heavy sigh in defeat, Midoriya stood, as did Todoroki. Though, there was no movement from either of the two men beside you, so you glanced between them curiously. Kirishima seemed interested, while Bakugou looked like he wanted to throw them all off the balcony just to get some peace. You weren’t sure if it was the excitement of being here, the electric energy from Kaminari, or the hit you had taken, but you really wanted to go. You were feeling restless and, if you were honest, kind of bummed out that you were still the only one who hadn’t had a drop of alcohol. You came here to have a good time with these guys. With Bakugou. But how could you talk him into it?

“You losers coming or not?” Kaminari barked before you could say a word, glowering at the three of you still plastered on the couch as he stood by the door, waiting for their security guard to unlock it and step out. “Kacchan, you were complaining about drinks, come down and get some with us!”

“Fuck, fine! If it will shut you up!”

Everything changed pace in a blink of an eye from that moment. Before you knew it, you had taken two shots of… something, and sucked down a drink faster than you thought you would, all while watching the bouncing bodies on the dance floor with Bakugou at your side. Though, he wasn’t just standing next to you. His arm was hooked around your waist like a vice, his powerful and off-putting presence preventing any man with wandering eyes from even considering trying to come up to you. At first, you felt a bit embarrassed that he was so close and so protective, but you also couldn’t help but feel… flattered. And that flattery brought up a new bubbling in your belly.

You were so happy. Again, you didn’t know if it was because of the high or the alcohol, but you were absolutely beyond tickled. It was such a strong sensation, in fact, that you couldn’t help but start to bounce on your feet and sway to the music. Your hips bumped into Bakugou’s as he stood beside you, one arm around your shoulders while the other propped him up on the bar counter. With the bump, he tightened his arm around your neck, pulling you in closer to him and pressing his lips against your ear so you could hear him over the blaring music.

“What are you doing?”

“Dancing!” You responded near his ear as he turned his head to hear you. “I like this song!”

“You call that dancing?” With his insult, he moved his arm around your back and gave you a small push forward towards the dance floor, smirking at the confusion on your face when you looked back at him. Taking your drink from your hands, he finished off the last bit of it before leaving it on the counter behind him, giving your ass a tap to guide you forward. Within moments, you were both swallowed by the giant group of sweating, bouncing bodies, all who had little to no care on who they were touching or where they were moving.

And yet, with Bakugou's arms around your waist from behind, you felt like you were completely enveloped in your own bubble. Just you, him, and the music. What truly snapped your restraint was his deep growl in your ear, tugging your hips tightly back so that your ass was firmly pressed against him.

“Show me how you can really dance, babygirl.”

No one would truly call the way you rubbed your bodies against each other to the rhythm of the music “dancing”, but all your body could comprehend in your intoxicated state. The flashing neon lights, from pitch black to strobing, was almost making you dizzy, and the only thing that seemed to alleviate the disorientation was putting all your focus on Bakugou.

The way you two moved was seamless and in tune, his hands freely roaming your body with no fears of being noticed within the densely packed group. Even if someone did notice, you wouldn’t care. All you cared about was his lips against the skin of your neck, his fingers digging into your plush curves and the hard presence of his cock beneath his pants. Just feeling it against your ass made you remember how good he felt fucking you, the way he filled up every inch of your aching cunt and made you scream for him.

How he made you his.

How you would do anything for him.

How he owned you.

“Open your eyes, sweetheart.”

The voice in your ear was a sweet growl; more of a purr to calm and coax you. It was so comforting that you almost forgot where you were for a moment, until you did as you were told. Instead of a group of dancing bodies in front of you, you were met with a clear view of that brilliant, wide grin sported only by Kirishima. He was in front of you, dancing with you and Bakugou together, his hands also firmly on your body to keep you pinned between the two men.

Your entire body immediately flushed hot, pressing further back against Bakugou to try and get some space between you and the redhead. “K-Kiri-!”

“Don’t you even think about it.” Bakugou growled in your ear, his hand coming up to wrap around your throat. “Let him touch you.”

You didn’t have much time to even consider complying before Bakugou moved you both forward, not allowing you any space or chance to dip out from between them. You were trapped. How long had Kirishima even been there? Whose hands had been touching you this entire time, squeezing your breasts and your hips so eagerly? Had it been both of them? Whose hand was that right now, sliding up your thigh and bringing your dress with it.

What was happening? They couldn’t actually be thinking about touching you here on the dancefloor, could they? In the privacy of the VIP room, maybe, but out here in the middle of all these people? Someone would notice!

You tried to squeak out a plea to stop, but Bakugou’s hand around your throat stopped any little sound from slipping out. Instead, your hips were pulled forward and snug against Kirishima’s, one of his legs between yours so that you were practically sitting on his thigh. But that wasn’t where your hips were directed. Instead, with the beat of the music, Kirishima rutted his hips against you, and you could easily feel the hard presence of his cock against your scantily clothed sex. He was wearing loose black joggers, so there was basically nothing between you, and with both men surrounding you completely and still moving with the music, there was no hope of someone noticing.

Needing to ground yourself, you clutched on to both of Kirishima’s biceps, his hands set firmly on your hips. The digging of your nails into his skin only seemed to spur him on further, becoming rougher with his thrusts, and the more he stroked across your clit, the more you began to lose yourself. It felt so good, even though you knew that it shouldn’t. It was Bakugou all over again, fucking your throat raw as your essence dripped down your thighs, just as it was now. Kirishima was using you for his own gratification, and Bakugou was allowing it. This wasn’t okay.

You clenched your eyes shut tightly as Bakugou’s hands moved to caress your breasts, squeezing them roughly and eagerly pinching your nipples. You heard him groan in your ear, his attention to your nipples increasing as he noticed the little studs in place. “Oh fuck, babygirl, I didn’t know you had piercings here, too. I’m an idiot for not stripping you in the changing room, but I’m not going to make that mistake tonight.”

His teeth sinking into the skin of your neck and another harsh twist made your body jolt, a moan involuntarily slipping through your lips. Before it could get far, it was devoured by Kirishima, who kissed you passionately to silence you.

What should I do? It feels good, but… I didn’t want Kirishima like this!

A rough nibble to your lip forced your mouth open, unable to stop or resist Kirishima's tongue from invading. He tasted like weed and the sour sting of an energy drink still on his lips, but that isn’t what made you want to pull away. Was he… a better kisser than Bakugou? No one could be better than the blonde behind you… at anything! And yet, here Kirishima was, making you completely breathless and absolutely on fire. It wasn’t so brash or dominating, either.

You loved it. A lot.

A moan leaked through the kiss as Bakugou moved his lips to your ear, running his tongue along the shell of it before nibbling harshly at the delicate skin below. “You like his cock rubbing up against you, baby? You like being pinned between us like the little desperate whore you are?”

Kirishima finally released your lips, giving you a chance to take in deep trembling breaths. “Yes, Katsuki! But I— “

“What?”

“I really have to pee!”

Both men paused with your proclamation, watching your face in confusion as you stood there trembling in their grip. You hadn’t been lying, and it was clear as day in your flushed face. You needed to go to the restroom. If you didn’t, you knew there would be an accident all over yourself and the two men that held you.

“You’re serious?” Kirishima spoke loudly enough so you could hear him, and you nodded with urgency. After glancing at Bakugou, he took a step back, awkwardly trying to make his boner mostly invisible behind his joggers. “Okay. I’d rather you not piss all over.”

Bakugou turned your head towards him, his glare immediately making your legs feel weak. “He’ll take you upstairs. I’m going to get more drinks and meet you up there. You better not be using this as an excuse, or I’ll have to punish you.”

“I-it’s not, Katsuki, I promise- mmph!” You were silenced as he kissed your lips roughly, his frustration at having to stop apparent. Then, with a rough tap to your ass, you were urged forward and into Kirishima’s arms. You didn’t get a chance to glance back at Bakugou as you were led through the crowd, Kirishima using his height and size to easily push through and bump people out of the way without too much inconvenience to you. Much to your surprise, he was quite attentive of you, pulling you out of the way of wild swinging arms and keeping a firm grip on you in case you were tripped by stray feet.

By the time you finally reached the stairs, you were completely worn out and feeling like your bladder was about to erupt. Still, you made it up the stairs and into the singular bathroom before you could piss yourself, and as you sat on the toilet, you could truly feel how intoxicated you were. You weren’t sure if your mind was spinning from the alcohol, the weed, or the incredible rush that you had felt on the dancefloor. You could feel, however, that you were incredibly sweaty, your hair sticking to your forehead, cheeks and the back of your neck like it was glued to your skin. Though, the wetness at your cunt and spread across your inner thighs was even worse.

You couldn’t believe that you had gotten so wet and turned on from what they had done to you. Even your pathetic excuse for underwear was completely soaked through, your essence thick and visible on the black fabric. The way they had cornered you like that wasn’t something that should have excited you so much, yet here you were, trembling and dripping wet. And now, you were caught up here in this room with Kirishima. Who knows how long it might take Bakugou to get the drinks, since the bar was incredibly busy and it had taken nearly fifteen minutes to get yours earlier.

With a defeated sigh, you wiped and decided to clean yourself up the best you could, even patting your underwear with toilet paper. In the end, the attempt wasn’t very successful, and you almost wanted to rip them back off the instant you pulled them back up to your hips.

After washing your hands and spending a few minutes fixing your hair and wiping your face and neck of sweat, you left the restroom, finding Kirishima standing near the coffee table with the weed pipe in his hands. He gave you a comforting smile as you approached, taking a hit and blowing the smoke away from you. “Feel better, sweetheart?”

“Yes… Uhm… Why did-”

“Want another hit?” Kirishima interrupted you, as if he knew exactly what you were about to ask and wanted to avoid it while he could. “You’re more relaxed now, you’ll get it this time. It’ll calm your nerves, too. You’re trembling like a leaf, babe.”

“I’m… not sure.”

“You don’t want Bakugou to see you all nervous and uptight, do you?”

The tone of his voice instantly made your stomach twist, able to hear the slightest twinge of a threat mixed in with the worried question. Of course you didn’t want Bakugou to see you like this. You had just been so peppy and energetic down on the dancefloor, he would surely be annoyed if you grew so timid all the sudden. So, without a word, you took the pipe and lighter, doing everything you could to ignore the twist at the corner of his lips.

Letting out a trembling breath, you brought the pipe to your lips, able to inhale, hold, and exhale without any urges to cough outside of a slight clearing of your throat. Chuckling, Kirishima took the pipe and lighter from you, setting them down again. “See! Look at you! A natural.”

“It’s stronger this time.”

“Yeah, I cleaned it out and prepped it again while you were in the restroom.” As he spoke, you made your way over to the front of the room, looking out of the glass and down at the bar, scanning for the blonde you had left behind. It didn’t take you long to see him, sitting on a stool as he awaited the delivery of the drinks. Though, you instantly felt heat rush to your fluttering stomach, surprised to see that he was already staring up at you. You couldn’t see his expression, but you could almost feel the icy daggers of his glare on your skin. In fact, your entire body was tingling, your mind growing dull while your body felt like every inch of you was being lightly pricked with needles. It was as if you could feel everything. Your hair tickling the back of your neck. Your dress tight against your chest. Your hot and wet underwear clung tightly against your folds and your clit.

“Find him?” Kirishima nearly startled you enough to make you jump as he came to stand beside you, looking around curiously at all the activity below. “He sticks out like a sore thumb, doesn’t he? Ah, there! He’s already looking up here, too. He’s so into you, babe.”

“He is…?”

“Oh yeah. And I can see why.” One of his large hands came to rest against your lower back, stepping in a bit closer to you. “You’re so cute and timid. Obedient.” His hand began to travel down along the curve of your ass, the slight sting of your welts from earlier making you tense and nibble at your lower lip. “Sexy. It’s hard to keep my hands off you.”

“Katsuki might… get upset if you do anything when he’s not here.” You clutched at the bottom of your dress, trying to keep it down in the front while Kirishima slowly pulled it up from the back.

“Oh you’re right, he might. Then you’d better not do anything to let him notice, hm? He’s watching us, after all.” His hand began to stroke along your ass, groping and squeezing with a firm grip. “Damn, you have a nice ass.”

A small squeak escaped your lips as two if his fingers slipped between your cheeks, rubbing your sex on the outside of your underwear. “Kiri… I’m… I don’t want to without Katsuki here.”

“You sure about that? ‘Cause your wet pussy is telling me otherwise.” With aggressive movements that made you involuntarily take a step closer to the glass, Kirishima moved his hand into your underwear. Without skipping a beat, his middle and ring fingers slid into your wet cunt with ease, forcing a sweet gasp from your lips. “Oh fuck, you’re tight. It’s no wonder Bakugou’s already obsessed after only fucking you once.”

He began to move his fingers in and out of you, slowly dragging along your inner walls, being sure to keep them curved at just the right angle. Each time he dug them into you, he pressed right into your most sensitive areas, making your entire body tingle and soft moans escape your lips. Though, just as you were about to lean forward and stick your ass out for him, he gave a small hiss in warning.

“Don’t move, sweetheart. You want him to notice?” He quickened his pace, as if he were trying to get you to give yourself away. Resting his body against the glass using one arm to prop himself up, he appeared completely casual. Since he was turned slightly towards you, he could use this angle for better leverage, digging his fingers into you faster and deeper. “But it’s not just him. Everyone down there can see us.”

From down below, you were sure that there wasn’t anything suspicious about the two of you, and keeping that facade was completely up to you. Even so, how sensitive your body felt, and the pleasure was already beginning to make your legs weak, so you had to press your hand against the glass to support yourself. Your panting breaths fogged up the clear surface now that you were so close to it, even able to feel your hard nipples rub against the cold. It was so much stimulation so fast that you weren’t sure how long you were going to be able to hold out.

Whining as you bit down on your bottom lip, you clenched your eyes shut tightly, digging your nails against the glass. “Kiri… please… He’ll notice!”

“I wonder what he’ll do, then.” He began to alternate between fingering you and rubbing your clit, nearly crippling what little hold you had left on yourself. “He’d punish you, for sure, but I wonder how? Maybe he’ll spank that pretty ass until you’re crying. Or edge you over and over. Or not give you anything at all.”

“I… please--” A moan cut you off as you began to feel yourself growing closer and closer to your release, placing both of your hands against the glass, now. “Please, I can’t hold it!”

“Going to cum already? Let’s change it up a bit, then.”

For a split second, you thought that he was going to completely stop as he removed his fingers from your aching and trembling cunt. Instead, you were met with a jolt of shock through your core as both of his fingers moved to your asshole, beginning to press into you without any warning. You couldn’t stop your hips from arching back towards his hand, your upper body and forehead firmly against the glass. “K-Kiri-!”

“Ooh, looks like someone like their ass filled up, hm? What a shame Bakugou didn’t play with you here, that little squeak you just made was adorable.” His fingers slid into you up to his knuckles, bending and flexing them apart to make you moan and wiggle. “That’s it, sweetheart. You like your ass fucked?”

“Y-yes,” you forced your eyes open, looking back down at Bakugou through the dark and flashing neon lights. He was still watching you, but there was something else. With the cover of the dark and his hips turned towards the counter, you could see him palming himself between his legs. Could he tell what was happening? Was he really getting off on it? “Kiri… I think he can tell- ah! Fuck!” Your voice cracked as he began to move his fingers within you, moving at an even quicker and more aggressive pace than he had been before.

“He can? Well fuck, sweetheart, that means so can all the other people down there.” Kirishima moved in closer, pressing his lips against your flushed cheek, his smirk wide and eyes gleaming with enjoyment. “Can you feel their eyes on you? Watching you get off on me fingering your ass like the good little slut you are. You like being watched, don’t you?”

“I… I don’t want them all to see me! But Katsuki is… he’s watching…”

“That’s right. He’s watching while I get to play with you. He’s so jealous he can’t help but watch, just waiting for his chance. You like that, don’t you?”

“Yes… Yes, I like him watching me.” Your body began to rock with his movements, the pleasure building back up rapidly. “Just to know that Katsuki wants me so bad… It makes me so hot!” You couldn’t stop your voice as your hips arched further back, trembling legs spreading a bit. “Please! Please let me cum, Kiri! I want to cum while he watches me!”

“Yeah, babe, cum all over my fingers. That’s it.” The encouraging grumble of his voice in your ear and the increased speed of his fingers within you immediately made you lose it, gasping and moaning against the glass as you struggled to stay up on your feet. The waves of pleasure that crashed over you were so intense, much more than you had ever felt just from a little assplay, but you didn’t care to try to rationalize why.

“What a good girl.” Kirishima pressed his lips against your cheek in a playful kiss, removing his fingers and giving your backend a few light smacks. “How about we sit down for a while, hm? You need to relax a bit before Bakugou gets back up here.”

Pushing yourself up off the glass, you didn’t think about looking for Bakugou again before you followed him over towards the couches on weak legs. You could still feel the remnants of your orgasm pulsing through your body, the slickness that you had wiped away in the bathroom once again coating your thighs and further soaking your underwear. His large, rough fingers had felt so good inside you, and although he had allowed you to cum, you were feeling severely unsatisfied and just all around… needy? Was that the right word to use? You wanted them to touch you, to hold and to praise you. But for now, it seemed as if Kirishima was perfectly content to wait a while, leaving you standing by the couches as he flopped to sit, resting back against the armrest with his legs up casually on the cushions.

Nearly immediately, your dizzy gaze landed on the very obvious form of his cock beneath his joggers, reminding you immediately of what he had done to you on the dancefloor. Now that you could see it, your stomach fluttered with curiosity and interest, making you crave to have his cock in your hands. Walking over casually, you ignored his curious look as you took a moment to take off your shoes, before settling onto the couch between his legs. For the first time, you saw his cheeks flush, obviously having not expected you to suddenly be so handsy as you palmed along the hard length of his cock.

“What’s up, sweetheart? Can’t wait?”

“You’re… bigger than Katsuki?”

Your question was met with a chuckle, Kirishima’s grin breaking his face as he allowed you to touch him. “Don’t let him hear you admit that. Not by much, but yeah, sure. Take a look.”

With his permission, you pulled his pants down just enough to allow his cock to spring free, a shocked squeak nearly escaping your throat at the sight of him. It was true, he wasn’t any longer than Bakugou, but his girth was much more impressive. His flushed tip was pierced just as Bakugou’s had been, but he sported a bar through the underside of the blushing head that you recognized as a prince albert. For a moment, you wondered if all the band members had their dicks pierced, but that thought was quickly pushed to the back of your mind as his cock gave an impatient twitch.

Without much consideration of the consequences, you took it into your hands, beginning to lightly pump and spread his precum around the tip and down his shaft. Kirishima gave a relieved sigh at your touch, resting one arm behind his head so he could relax and watch you. “Ah fuck… that’s it, nice and slow. Why don’t you spit on it a little, huh?”

Leaning forward, you passionately rolled your tongue around his tip, before pulling back a bit and allowing your saliva to flow freely, using your hand to spread it down his length. The groan he gave made a smile creep across your lips as you sat back up from him, using both of your hands to stroke his cock with a firmer grip. “How’s that?”

“Incredible. Fuck, babe… Let me see those pretty tits, huh?”

Since your dress had low cut sleeves to begin with, it was easy for you to slip your arms out of them, before pulling the fabric down to expose your breasts to him. Not wearing a bra, they slipped easily from the tight dress, revealing your hard nipples and cute jeweled piercings. Leaning forward a bit closer to him, you continued to stroke his cock with the soft plushness of your chest around him, watching his face closely for any sign of approval. His usually smug or cheerful expression was hazed over with lust, crimson eyes watching your every move. He looked so cute and innocent, just like the man you had always seen on social media, and you loved that you had reduced him back to being his softer self just with a touch and a flash of your tits.

Scooting your hips back a bit and propping yourself up on your knees, you leaned in and took him fully into your mouth, starting with just a sweet tease to his tip before taking him all the way down to the base. Kirishima immediately groaned and tensed beneath you, his large hand coming down to rest on the back of your head, gathering up your hair to keep it out of the way for you. “Oh fuck, damn it! Look at you, taking my cock so well. Such a good girl-”

Suddenly, the sound of the door opening startled you both and you nearly gagged from the sudden pressure Kirishima put on the back of your head. Unable to move and unable to see, all you could do was listen to the booming voice from behind you while you tried to find some room to breathe with the cock down your throat.

“You horny fuckers couldn’t even wait until I got back?” Bakugou’s voice was followed by the sound of the door slamming shut, along with the click of the lock. “I spend all that fucking time down there getting drinks for us and you decide to fool around without me?!”

“Hey man, I didn’t start this! She wanted to suck my dick herself. Oh shit, sorry, sweetheart!” Kirishima released your head as you whined and wiggled to try and get yourself free, allowing you to come up. Coughing, you glowered up at Kirishima as you placed a hand over your throat, spitting the excess saliva that had gathered in your mouth onto his cock in retaliation.

“Oh did she?” Bakugou came up behind you, putting the drinks down on the table before taking a hold of your hair and pulling you back so you were looking up at him. “And what about that little show you put on against the windows? Whose idea was that?”

Your face flushed, stomach bubbling nervously as your fears that he could tell were confirmed. And yet, you only grew hotter, biting down onto your bottom lip as you peered up at him though your lashes. For a moment, you considered lying and saying that you had started it all, just to see what he would do, but the ever honest Kirishima spoke up first.

“I couldn’t help it, man. She has a nice ass. But I didn’t tell her to act all obvious, she just couldn’t control herself.”

“That’s because she’s nothing but a slut.” Still using his grip on your hair, Bakugou forced you back down so that your lips were pressed against the wet tip of Kirishima’s cock, not giving you any other choice but to open your mouth and take him in. Again, your head was forced all the way down to his pelvis, your nose pressing against his skin. As you whined, your eyes began to tear up from the pressure and uncomfortable presence deep in your throat, digging your nails into Kirishima’s hips to try and stop him from shifting beneath you.

Struggling to breathe through your nose, you could feel your dress being pushed up around your hips, Bakugou’s free hand gripping your ass and spreading you open with no regard for the stinging welts he had left earlier that night. “Fuck, what the hell are these? Did you expect to get fucked tonight, baby?” His rough fingers stroked along your lace panties, before pulling them down away from your hips and to your thighs. “Look how fucking wet you are, too. Did that moron make you cum?”

When he released your head, you pulled up slowly, gazing up at Kirishima to watch his flushed face and listen to his groans. Once your lips left him, you didn’t bother to spit or clean up the thick saliva and precum that dribbled from your tongue, using it to instead stroke him firmly with both hands. “Yes, Katsuki,” You choked out through your sore throat, arching your hips further up as Bakugou gripped your ass with both hands, spreading you open to watch your twitching cunt. “He made me cum while you watched. While the whole club could see.”

“Did you like that I was watching?” Bakugou ran his thumb in slow circles against your clit. “Did that get you off, you nasty fuck?”

“Mm, yes-” Your pace quickened, almost hypnotized by the way Kirishima reacted to your touch as Bakugou teased you. “I loved it.”

“And how did he make you cum, huh?” The sound of a zipper and shifting clothing was lost behind his voice and the pounding in your ears. As your lips pressed against the tip of Kirishima’s cock to prepare to take him again, a moan interrupted you, your hips arching back up into Bakugou’s touch as two of his fingers slipped into your wet pussy. “Did he finger your slutty cunt?”

“Yes,” Spurred on by the pleasure, you ran your tongue up and down along Kirishima’s throbbing shaft, your free hand pushing his joggers further down out of the way so you could cup and massage his balls. Kirishima gave a grunt, reaching down to dig his fingers into your hair again.

“C’mon, sweetheart, tell him the truth.”

“The truth? Tch, I bet I know what he did.” Removing his fingers from within you, they both slid up to your asshole, sinking in with ease and making your entire body shudder with a moan. “Your ass, huh? I should have fucking known. Fine, then.” Shifting his hips closer, you could feel the presence of his cock between your cheeks when he removed his hand, gripping your hips instead. “Let me fill up this slutty little hole for you.”

Before you could truly ground yourself, the tip of his thick cock slipped into your asshole with just as much ease as his fingers, forcing a sharp gasp from your lips. Biting down onto your bottom lip as he sunk in inch by inch, you buried your face into Kirishima’s pelvis, your entire body trembling. Just as before, his size was more than you had ever taken before in either hole, and he left you feeling full and breathless.

“K-Katsuki--!”

“That’s right, babygirl. Moan my fucking name.” With a rough snap of his hips to start his quick pace, you cried out against Kirishima’s skin, your hand leaving his cock to instead dig your nails into his toned stomach. “How’s my fat cock feel, huh? Stretching your tight asshole-- ah fuck, baby!” As you constricted around him in response to the pleasure and his filthy mouth, he only fucked you faster and harder, his balls slapping against your clit and sending jolts of hot white pleasure through your body.

For a while, you were completely engrossed in the feeling of his cock inside you, until a smack of Kirishima’s cock to your cheek reminded you that he was still here, too. Although it was nearly impossible for you to hold back your voice, you sat up and took his cock into your mouth again, using the pleasure to push yourself harder to please him more aggressively.

“Ah shit! Damn!” Kirishima once again gripped onto your head, but with both hands this time. “Wait, wait! Hold still-” Using his grip on your head, he shifted his legs a bit, using new leverage to begin thrusting his hips up to fuck your mouth at his own pace. Completely at their mercy, you supported yourself with your arms against the couch, your eyes once again tearing up from the rough throat fucking and pleasure abusing your mind. The moans and filthy, lewd wet noises that came from your mouth were uncontrollable, as was the saliva and tears that coated Kirishima’s cock.

It was painful.

It was hot.

It was an absolute dream.

And yet, you wanted more. You wanted these men to completely destroy you, to leave you as nothing but a twitching mess leaking their cum.

“Want to swallow my cum, sweetheart?”

With Kirishima’s question, you found the chance to try and get your way, giving a miniscule shake of your head as you reached up to try and push his hands off you. Bakugou scoffed, not letting up on his pace.

“The fuck? Just cum, don’t ask her-”

“Shut up, man, she’s trying to say something,” Allowing you up off his cock, you took a moment to cough, which was difficult behind your urge to moan and gasp in air.

“I want both of your cocks inside me!” You finally choked out when you had a chance, gazing up at Kirishima with your flushed, teary and begging expression. “Please fill me up with both of your cocks! I need them!” A squeak escaped your lips as Bakugou grabbed you by the arms, pulling you up against his chest as his hand wrapped around your neck.

“Beg harder,” He growled in your ear, one hand gripping your breast as he fucked you harder. For a moment, your mind went blank with the pleasure, unsure of what you had even wanted outside of Bakugou’s dick buried so deep inside of you. The pleasure in your core was near cracking, and as you looked down at Kirishima to see him pumping his own cock at the sight of you being ruined, it only spiked higher.

“I want you to both fuck me! Please! Please, Katsuki, I’m begging you! I-- aah, fuck! Fuck!” Leaning your head back, it wasn’t another second before you came hard, your body tensing in his grip and rocking back against his hips as they also came to a stop from how hard you squeezed around him. Giving a low growl in satisfaction, Bakugou held your body tightly back against him, digging his cock as deep into you as he could get with a light bucking of his hips.

“Oh fuck, babygirl, that’s it. Such a naughty bitch, cumming from being fucked in the ass like that. And you still want more, huh?” Bakugou spoke low in your ear, and although you were beyond high on the release, you found it within yourself to nod.

Smirking against your cheek, Bakugou removed his cock from you. “Fine then.” While you were still trying to regain control of your dizzy mind, he gave you a rough nudge, forcing your weak and trembling body to fall forward onto Kirishima. The redhead caught you by the arms to help you steady yourself, giving an annoyed huff as he guided you up to straddle his hips.

“Watch it, man! She could have crushed my dick, then I’d be outta luck!”

“Shut the fuck up. I’m sick of waiting, if you don’t get a move on, I’m kicking your fucking ass out of here.”

“Boys, boys.” You pushed yourself up on your arms so you were balanced on all fours, smiling down at Kirishima through your lustful haze. “There’s no need to argue.” Reaching down between your bodies, you took hold of Kirishima’s cock, holding it steady as you ran your dripping wet sex along it, teasing your sensitive clit. “I’m here for you both to use me. As much as you want.” Looking back over your shoulder, you caught Bakugou’s glare, though it quickly flicked back down to your hips as you began to lower yourself down onto Kirishima’s cock, letting him slip into your pussy slowly. “You like watching, Katsuki?”

Bakugou scoffed, his face flushing. “You’d better fucking watch it, whore. Don’t forget who owns your stupid ass.”

“But I love it when you watch me,” You let out an airy moan as Kirishima filled you up all the way to the base, not leaving a single inch of you untouched. “Just to know that I turn you on so much without even having to touch you. Even if it’s another man… Even if it’s Kiri’s fat cock inside me. It makes me so happy, Katsuki.” Steading yourself with your hands against Kirishima’s stomach, you began to roll your hips, sighing and cursing softly from the pleasure. “Fuck, so big! Both of your cocks are so big and perfect!”

As Kirishima gripped onto your hips tightly, he was immediately taken over by the euphoria he felt being buried so deep within your wet pussy, using his strength to guide your body to start bouncing on his cock instead. “That’s it, sweetheart. Fuck, your pussy is so tight!” It wasn’t another few seconds before he couldn’t resist thrusting his hips up into you, holding you steady as he ravaged your wet and clenching cunt at his own pace. He was hard and rough, slamming into you like a man starved, desperate for the pleasure and release he craved. “You’re such a perfect little slut.”

Now forced to lean forward, weak arms propping you up on either side of his body, you allowed him to fuck you as he wished, each slam of his tip against your cervix blurring your vision with white sparks of pleasure. The way his thick cock filled you up and his piercing rubbed against your inner walls was building up your pleasure so rapidly that your body became completely weak, arms collapsing under you until you were laying on his chest. Somehow, you found the mental focus to look over your shoulder, your body flushing hotter at the sight of Bakugou eagerly pumping his own cock, his glare locked on the way that Kirishima was using you.

“Ka- Katsuki,” You choked out through your moans, doing everything you could to keep hold of your mind for just a moment longer. “Please watch me while I cum! Please! A-ah! Kiri, w-wait, I--!” As the redhead grew rougher with you, there wasn’t anything you could do to hold back the pleasure any longer, and your orgasm ripped through your body like a spark of lightning, making your entire body tense and tremble. “Fuck! Fucking hell, that fat cock is so fucking good!”

“Damn right it is, sweetheart.” Kirishima landed a hard smack to your currently unmarked asscheek. “You like being fucked by big cocks?”

“Yes… I’ve never had cocks like this though…” You turned your face more into the skin of his chest, ignoring the sweat and drool. “Both of you… So perfect…”

“We aren’t even done with you yet, sweetheart.” Taking hold of your ass in both hands, Kirishima spread you open, addressing the blond that still sat behind you, who was oddly quiet and patient. “C’mon, man. Let’s give her what she really wants.”

For a moment, you felt embarrassed at the fact that Kirishima was holding your cheeks apart, your pussy still stuffed with his cock and your asshole twitching in anticipation. Looking over your shoulder again, you caught Bakugou’s gaze, the pleading expression in your eyes instantly bringing a wicked and excited smirk to his lips. That initial embarrassment spiked, holding your breath as Bakugou came in closer, taking over the task of holding your ass open.

The tip of his cock, hot and blushing with the need for his own release, teased your tight, unoccupied hole, the feeling of his frenum piercing rolling across your skin bringing a whimper from your throat. You wanted it so much that it was nearly painful to have to wait like this. You felt powerless in the situation, only able to wait for them to decide to begin, and the anticipation was making your stomach flutter and roll. The butterflies escaped your lips with the sound of a small plea, barely audible even by you, but Bakugou was quick to take notice.

“What’s that, babygirl?”

“P-please…” You pushed the word out with your strangled breath, still watching him from over your shoulder. “Please don’t make me keep waiting!” You bit down onto your bottom lip as his thumb rolled over the waiting hole, teasingly dipping it in to the first knuckle. “Mm... Katsuki--” A sharp gasp escaped your lips as he landed a rough spank to your already bruised and abused cheek from earlier that night in the dressing room, the spike of pain making your body tense. Kirishima groaned and wiggled beneath you, his hips bucking lightly impatiently as your core squeezed tightly around him in reaction to the pain.

“Aah fuck! Shit, sweetheart, don’t squeeze so tight like that, it’s hard enough not to fuck your brains out right now.”

“What’s the matter? She’s too tight for ya?” Bakugou landed another hard, full palmed smack to your ass, forcing a sharp moan from your lips and your tensing body bringing Kirishima into another series of squirming. “I’m surprised you’re still in this, you’re usually a two-pump chump!” Then, the instant your body calmed, he shoved his entire length into you in one fell swoop, his hips meeting with the red plushness of your ass. “Fuck… How can she be such a perfect little slut?”

The sudden feeling of being so full knocked all the air out of your lungs, your back arching to try to accommodate them both, digging your nails into the fabric of the couch. Your mind was so overwhelmed with the pressure that you could barely hear Kirishima snapping back at Bakugou for the insult he had given him, only hearing the sound of his voice without comprehending words. They were both buried so deep inside you that you worried you might split apart if they started moving, and with that realization, another came to the front of your dizzy mind.

You’ve never had two dicks inside you at the same time.

Never.

With how excited and desperate you had been for it, the men must have assumed that you had and weren’t going to go easy on you. You wanted to speak, to say anything to tell them the truth, but you found it nearly impossible to pull enough air into your lungs to speak. They were about to absolutely ruin you, and you wondered in that moment if you’d be able to take it, or if you’d beg for mercy with the first thrust.

It was Kirishima who moved first, thrusting his hips upwards slow and shallow, forcing a cry from your throat and your eyes to clench shut, hiding in his chest. “Shh, sweetheart, we got you.” Since Bakugou was holding onto your hips, Kirishima’s hands were free to caress you, one on your side and the other on the back of your head. With his tender touch, however, came longer strokes of his cock inside you, the overwhelming presence pushing tears from behind your closed eyelids. “Just breathe.”

Bakugou, however, was not as merciful. He picked up on Kirishima’s rhythm, pulling himself all the way out to the tip before plunging back into your tense and constricting asshole. Bakugou hissed, digging his fingers into your plush hips, his blunt nails stinging your skin. “Fucking hell, babygirl, you’re just sucking me right in. Damn-!” A groan escaped him as he picked up his pace, your body starting to rock between them as the skin of his pelvis slapped against your red and abused cheeks.

“A-ah, Katsuki-!” You nearly screamed out in shock, though your face was still buried into Kirishima’s chest. “Not so fast! Please!”

“Oh no, babe. You begged for this. We’re giving you exactly what you asked for.”

As if picking up on a cue, Kirishima also increased his pace, until they were both thrusting into you as deep as they could possibly get, hard and fast. Though, with their increased pace came a new feeling washing over you, pushing past the dull, uncomfortable pain. They were filling up every inch of you, caressing you and staying as perfectly in sync as they could, doing everything they could to pleasure you. And that was all you could feel.

The pleasure.

It pulsed through every inch of you like shockwaves, sending it rocketing up your body and down your limbs. There was no other word that you could think of to describe it besides “perfect”, and you knew that there would never be another set of men in your entire life that could make you feel this way. That could use you like this, making you feel so vulnerable yet adored at the same time. No matter the reason, these two men who you loved dearly, wanted you.

And damn, you were happy.

“Fuck, yes-!” You finally choked out, finding a smidgen of strength to allow you to prop yourself up on your elbows. Still, your head hung slack, your tear-filled eyes rolled up and mouth open with unending moans. “Your cocks feel so good inside me!”

“There she is,” Deep groan reverberating in his chest from your encouragement, Bakugou increased his place, giving you another firm slap on the ass. “That’s right, you slut. Now tell me who you belong to.”

“You! You, Katsuki-!”

“-And?”

“-Kiri! I belong to both of you! I’m your little slut, please do whatever you want with me! Just please don’t stop, I want to feel your cum inside me!”

If you were honest, you weren’t sure how long they ravaged you like this. You came again, before your body was just too overly stimulated, and all you could do was lay there against Kirishima’s chest, moaning and trembling constantly. There wasn’t a rational or clear thought in your head, only able to focus on their dicks inside you, and their increasingly loud moans and grunts.

They were getting close.

“Fucking shit-” Bakugou was barely able to get the curse out before his hips began to shutter, his thrusts becoming erratic and shallow until he released inside of you, the hot feeling of his cum pulling you back into full consciousness. You peeked at him over your shoulder the best you could through your wild hair, finding his flushed, sweaty, and satisfied image endearing. You felt so empty with his exit, but you didn’t have much time to focus on that, as Kirishima immediately scooped you up and flipped you both over so you were beneath him.

Smirk on his lips, he bent your legs back up to your chest, his pace and depth only increasing and sending you into another round of incoherent moans.

“That’s it, sweetheart. I want to see that pretty face when I fill you up with my cum.”

Clutching onto his arms tightly, your nails dug into his biceps as your eyes stayed locked on the way his hips moved, almost hypnotized by the sight of his cock slamming in and out of your abused cunt. The veiny girth that was absolutely coated in your slick found no resistance, and with this new visual paired with the feeling of rapid dragging along your clenching walls, you could feel another orgasm peaking fast. “K-Kiri-!”

“Going to cum on my fat cock again, huh? Go on- Ah, oh fuck-!” A hiss escaped through his teeth as you came, your entire body quivering, cunt clenching around him and head leaning back. Your moans hitched and shook uncontrollably, unsure of exactly how loud you were as your mind fogged over with the endless waves of pleasure paired with the new heat that flooded your core with Kirishima’s release. The redhead that pinned you down was rough with his release, his hips rutting against yours with sharp snaps and deep grinding, which only prolonged your release until you were nothing but a limp, trembling mess.

“Look at you. You’re so damn pretty.” Kirishima’s voice barely registered in your mind, as did the clicking sound of a phone taking pictures. “Bakugou, come hold her legs back.”

Your teary gaze landed on Bakugou as he came to stand near your head, taking your calves into his hands and pulling them back so you were further contorted. With the movement, Kirishima removed his cock from within you, leaving you feeling incredibly empty, though the heat of his cum leaking out of you was very noticeable. With a whine as your knees were pressed on either side of your head, you weakly gripped onto Bakugou’s hands, looking up at him with exhausted, innocent curiosity. Fluffy blonde hair stuck to his face that was coated with sweat, Bakugou smirked down at you, glancing over every inch of your body.

“Fuck babygirl, you should see yourself. You’re a mess.”

You swallowed hard against your dry and aching throat, smiling softly as your hand traveled up and down his forearm tenderly. “All… all for you.” The sound of the phone's camera going off finally got your attention and you looked at Kirishima instead, your stomach fluttering nervously at the sight of him snapping pictures of your body. “P-pictures…?”

“I’ve never seen a pussy this pretty, sweetheart. And it’s just dripping with my jizz… Your ass is, too, with your cheeks all fucking red from Bakugou spanking you. You’re a damn masterpiece, baby. I should have recorded this whole thing.” Obviously filming now, Kirishima ran his thumb from your asshole up along your cunt and to your clit, dragging the mess of cum with him. After a few teasing rolls of your clit, he brought his thumb up to your mouth, not even having to say a word before you opened wide to suck the digit clean. “Damn that’s hot.”

“Save that recording shit for later. There will be plenty to shoot back at the hotel. Right, babygirl?” Bakugou released your legs, allowing you to close them and rest them comfortably to the side. Once your mouth was free of Kirishima’s fingers, you licked your lips, eyes locked on your celebrity crush as he gazed down at you expectantly.

Any rational thought that should have peaked in your mind was smothered by a screaming need to stay with him, to do whatever he wanted just so that you could be in his presence for as long as possible. Before you knew it, you were up on trembling knees, turning to face him and timidly clutching on tightly to the front of his shirt. “Yes, Katsuki. Anything you want.”

“That’s right,” Bakugou pulled you in closer, latching his arms around your torso and kissing you with a gentle passion that sent your heart racing. “You’ll do anything for me.”

“And for me.” Kirishima came up to press himself against your back, his hands tightly on your hips as he kissed your cheek playfully. You couldn’t resist a soft giggle from escaping your lips, both of your arms wrapping around Bakugou’s torso tightly.

“Mm, yes! Anything for both of you-”

KNOCK KNOCK

“Hey, are you three done in there yet!? Hurry up! We have girls and more drinks, and I have to piss!”

“The couches better still be clean!”

Kirishima chuckled, releasing you with a final pat to your backside before hopping up and fixing his clothes back into proper place. “Shit, sorry, just a sec!”

Bakugou, however, didn’t bother responding to them, kissing you again tenderly while pulling your dress back down to cover your hips. “I hope you’re ready, babygirl.”

“For what?”

“The afterparty is just getting started. I hope that partying with your favorite band will be everything you ever dreamed of.”

“As long as I get to be close to you, Katsuki, I’ll do anything. Anything at all.”

“That’s my good girl.”

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young-dumb-and-vaccinated · 3 years

Text

Cult Girl: Doctorate (Hannibal x Female!Reader) pt. 4

Will

Cult girl attends her grandmother's funeral and is approached with a highly unorthodox last will and testament.

@wisesandwichshark

Trigger warnings: emotional manipulation and abuse, verbal abuse, death, slight emetophobia, body-shaming, ED mention, pregnancy and family planning

There was no use recounting anything from the leading up to the funeral. You spent that first night wine-drunk, munching on foie gras, watching Arrested Development and diagnosing each character to the best of your psychological abilities. You remembered cry-laughing at the same jokes you had memorized, and reminiscing on all the insane shit your own personal Lucille Bluth pulled on you. That was the highlight of the week. It was all downhill from there.

Firstly, you were sick. That Sunday, you wrote it off as a hangover. Then, the hangover returned with a vengeance, just to add salt to the already open wound of having to pretend to mourn your abusive grandmother. At least the physical pain would give your acting an air of sincerity, you thought.

Hannibal dressed in a solid black tux: it was almost uncanny to see him outside of any of his normal checkered suits. You selected a plain black dress and a strand of pearls.

The funeral was to be held at the same country club Anna’s wedding was held. Your grandmother was like a pharaoh, insisting that the empire she built know that even in death, she reigned supreme. The country club was her pyramid.

Anna asked if you wanted to say a few words. As much as you wanted to get up and tell all her country club friends about the time she reported you as an abducted child at age twenty-two when you refused to leave your boyfriend and move back in with her, you knew that it wasn’t in good taste. You racked your brain for any story that could be considered remotely funeral-appropriate, but none came to mind.

You spent the entire funeral trying not to roll your eyes too obviously at the stories of abuse her country club friends somehow remembered fondly. Your soul just left your body throughout the entire process and you were unsure if it would ever return.

All things considered, it could have gone much worse. Then, it did.

The beginning of the end was when your grandmother’s estate lawyer pulled you and Anna aside to conduct the reading of the will. He showed you to a side room, then excused himself before closing the door behind him.

“Hello, [F/N].” Liam greeted, trying to cut through the awkward silence that came with first seeing each other after four straight years. “I’m very sorry about your gran. She was a great woman.”

You gave him a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Thanks, Lee. I appreciate it.”

“No she doesn’t.” Anna muttered. “And it’s Liam.”

“I don’t mind ‘Lee’.” Liam contested. “My mum called me Lee. I actually quite like it.”

Anna was in one of her ‘I’m so upset, please ask me why’ moods. She sat on one of the heavy armchairs with her legs crossed and eyes to the wall. You weren’t going to bite.

Liam wasn’t so cautious. “Princess, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” She pouted, not even dignifying her husband with a look. “I just think it’s interesting that I put the funeral together all by myself and someone couldn’t even be bothered to speak.”

You shot Liam a look that said ‘way to go, jackass’.

“Yeah,” You said, sitting down in an adjacent armchair. “That must suck.”

Anna glared at you. “You really have nothing to say? Really?”

You tensed up. “Let’s see, which charming anecdote would you have me tell? How about that time when she made you wear a fat suit for an hour after you complained about how the low-carb ice cream tasted like chemicals?”

Liam looked in shock at his wife. “Did she really?”

“Once.” Anna confessed, holding up one finger.

You turned to Liam, as if you were sharing some hot gossip. “That was all it took to give her an eating disorder when she was thirteen.”

Hannibal was just a fly on the wall. Anna noticed his lack of reaction.

“And I bet Hannibal knows all about this, huh?” Anna said, throwing her hand in his direction. “Because he just needs to hear all of our private family business, right?”

You stood up from your seat. “First of all, I take offense at the implication that my fiancée isn’t family.”

An evil smile spread on Anna’s face. “But he wasn’t always your fiancé, was he, [F/N]?”

“Holy shit, you cracked the code.” You said, flatly. “There was a point in time when Hannibal and I weren’t an item. Real shocker, that one.”

“You know what I mean.” She sneered, then approached Hannibal. “Dr. Lecter, is it true that before you and [F/N] became romantically involved, you were her therapist?”

Liam looked scandalized. Hannibal was just as put-together as always.

“That is true.” He said, feeling no shame whatsoever.

Anna turned back to you. “Now don’t you think that’s just a smidge unethical? For a therapist to date their much younger patient?”

You narrowed your eyes. You carried yourself with the lightness of a woman who finally had the moral high ground. “So you want to talk about what’s ethical, huh? I suppose that means you’ve told Liam about pineapple.”

All the blood drained from her face. You crossed your arms and held your head up a little higher.

“That’s what I thought.” You grinned.

“Look, could we just pretend to be a normal, functioning family for ten minutes?” Anna pleaded, as if there were anyone other than herself to blame for provoking an argument.

“That’s on you two.” Liam, rightfully, pointed out. He gestured to himself and then to Hannibal. “Neither of us have said anything.”

The estate lawyer must have gotten his juris doctorate alongside a master's in impeccable fucking timing, because that was when he decided to make his entrance.

"I'm sorry for the wait, everyone." He announced. "And I'm sorry for having to pull you aside in your hour of mourning. Usually the last will and testament is handled through email to the beneficiaries, but your grandmother was quite adamant it be approached this way."

"That definitely sounds like her." You said, exchanging glances with Hannibal. You'd talked about this for what felt like hours the week prior. She was going to pull some last-minute bullshit to humiliate you from beyond the grave. Give all the inheritance to Anna and leave a snide comment about you in a legal document. You knew it was coming. All you could hope was for it to be quick.

The lawyer pulled an envelope from his briefcase. "She specifically asked for her two living grandchildren and their significant others to be present."

"Did she say it like that?" Anna raised an eyebrow. "Or was it more like, 'Anna and her husband, and [F/N] and her therapist'?"

"Mrs. Young," Hannibal said, taking your hand. "Until you tell your husband about pineapple, you aren't allowed to judge us."

Anna glared at you. "What the hell? He knows, too?!"

"Yeah." You answered. "I tell him everything."

"Okay, who or what is pineapple?" Liam interjected. "And why do I get the feeling I'm the only one not in the know, here?"

"That's cause you are." You confirmed. "And you have your lovely wife to thank for that."

"Everyone!" The lawyer called out. Clearly, he'd seen his share of dysfunctional families. "Please, let me just read the will and you can continue arguing afterwards."

"Y'know what? Fair enough." You said, crossing your legs. "Let's rip off this band-aid, shall we?"

The lawyer opened the envelope and produced a single page. He cleared his throat.

"I, Beatrice [L/N], being of sound mind and body, do hereby bequeath all my worldly possessions-" He began reading the long first sentence. "Including but not limited to, a collective sum of $45 million, the family home and my shares of the country club, to the first of my granddaughters to give birth."

You expected nothing. You expected something. But you never could have expected this.

"Can you please read that last part again?" You asked, unsure if what you heard was the result of a stroke.

"The entire inheritance goes to the first one of you to have a baby." The lawyer clarified, trying to make it sound like a reasonable arrangement.

"That makes sense." Anna said, nodding.

You looked at her, dumbfounded. "How in the fuck on fire does that make sense to you?"

"Well, the money would be going to a good cause." She rationalized. "To raise the baby, right?"

You shook your head. "No, this is insane. Grandma has always had this weird obsession with bloodlines, and now she's trying to incentivize us to carry it out."

"What happens if neither of us can, y'know?" Anna asked.

The lawyer pushed his glasses up his nose. "If neither granddaughter is willing to produce a child, the entire inheritance will go to the Eagle Forum, so my ungrateful grandchildren can learn about family values."

"She hated the Eagle Forum!" Anna objected. "She wouldn't dare."

"She absolutely would." You pressed your fingers into your forehead. "That's upper-class white moderates for you. And she doesn't have to be around to see when they name a fucking wing after her."

"The Beatrice [L/N] center for denying women bodily autonomy." Hannibal said. "It's quite fitting."

"[F/N], we can't let that happen." Anna pleaded. "We can't let Eagle Forum get a penny of that money."

"Why the hell not?" You said. Though on principle, you agreed, you knew this was just another one of your grandmother's power grabs. At the end of the day, she chose to leave her money to the Eagle Forum. And it would be her name on that check, not yours.

"Oh my god, you actually hate babies more than you hate conservatives." Anna stood with her mouth agape.

"Don't put words in my mouth." You snapped. "I don't hate babies. I hate grandma for trying to threaten me into having one. I hate grandma for pinning us against each other and making sure it stays that way."

"What do you have against giving me a little niece or nephew, huh?" Anna folded her arms.

"I'm fucking done." You said, throwing up your hands. "This will be the last you ever see of me."

Of course, that's what you said the last time.

#hannibal lecter #hannibal x you #hannibal x reader #hannibal nbc #more cult girl #cult girl #cult girl 2 #tw pregnancy #tw emotional abuse #tw death #tw conservatives

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dreamsclock · 3 years

Note

Hello Mr Sparrow, I should be writing my essay rn but I have brainrot and you dont have to write anything about this if u dont want to/dont have time/etc. But imagine. I always was afraid of "Dream resurrects Wilbur, Wilbur leaves prison and doesn't break Dream out." bc I have a feeling Dream won't come out of prison that quickly. But I have had a even worse idea! Dream and Wilbur STUCK IN PRISON TOGETHER! Imagine the manipulation and damage Wilbur could to do Dreams mind which is already so bad

you know i’m such a sucker for mutually assured destruction ideas :D this is INCREDIBLY dark, because smp!wilbur and smp!dream in the same room for days on end would never go well, so please read the tags carefully!!

warnings: death, murder, manipulation, guilt-tripping, gaslighting, emotional abuse, assault, violence, resurrection, blood, self harm, brief mention of throwing up, mental illness, mental instability, mental deterioration, toxic relationship, trauma, codependency

Wilbur has a way of getting under his skin that’s even more intolerable than Tommy.

Which is saying something, really, because Tommy had been the most infuriating cellmate in existence, and Dream had murdered him. Wilbur should be afraid, but he’s not, and Dream knows he knows he has no reason to. Every time Dream goes to lash out, every time his blood boils and things get too much, Wilbur changes from dry and amused to a faux upset that drives him insane.

“You’re going to kill someone else?” Wilbur will ask, catching Dream’s wrist easily in his hands, and there’s such a pain and disappointment in his gaze that makes Dream want blood. “You really are a villain, aren’t you?”

“This is your fault,” Dream will hiss in reply, throat aching, eyes aching, every part of him aching, “all of this is because of you and Tommy, it always has been, you started this-”

He’ll raise a fist, anger burning him up from the inside, and Wilbur will let him hit him, and Dream’s anger will dissipate just like usual into choking guilt that has him staggering back, Tommy’s last cries gnawing in his mind.

“I know that,” Wilbur always says, voice a croon, “it’s just a shame nobody else does.”

The cycle burrows down in Dream’s body, makes a home for itself there: Dream hates it. Every inch of him wants to rip Wilbur apart from the inside out, wants to make him feel half the pain he’s been in throughout this whole experience. Because the very least Wilbur could do for him after everything is break him out - instead, he loiters, lounging around like he’s unbothered by the heat and agony of the cell, and smiles leisurely every time Dream begs him to escape with him.

“In time. I’m quite enjoying myself, aren’t you?”

And one day he does kill Wilbur. One day Wilbur doesn’t catch his fist, doesn’t reply to him in that sing-song voice, and Dream is too angry to stop himself. He kills Wilbur, and for the second time in a month laughs until he cries and until he throws up, burying his head in his hands, because he knows this is exactly what Wilbur had wanted. Wilbur is much more subtle than anyone else could ever be: he always has been, has always been better at manipulation than Dream could ever hope to be, and he knows, miserable, that Wilbur will be grinning when he comes back.

He is. Dream brings him back that night, antsy without someone there to taunt him. The only thing worse than Wilbur is knowing Wilbur isn’t there, so Dream brings him back, watches him blink and stumble to his feet and smile so widely that it must hurt.

“Good to be back,” Wilbur says brightly, sharp eyes landing on Dream, “you brought me back quicker than I expected.”

Dream’s stomach twists. “Don’t.”

“What? I’m happy to be with you again, man. I missed you.”

He smiles, and Dream slams his fist into a wall to stop it from hitting Wilbur instead. He hates it, and yet he’s missed Wilbur more than he can bear too.

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chainofclovers · 3 years

Text

Grace and Frankie 7x1 - 7x4 thoughts

Meh? Like...I love them so much, but...meh?

(I did enjoy this line about brunch.)

I really loved season 6 of Grace and Frankie. I thought it was well-paced, largely very well-acted, generally well-written, and it culminated in a massive moment of character development for the title characters, who, having spent years growing closer and being there for each other when others could not or would not be, finally articulate to each other that they are the primary person in each other’s lives. Platonic gal pal soulmate BFF emotional support witches 4 lyfe!

I know progress isn’t always linear, and in fact is very rarely linear, but after a moment that significant, you’d think the writers on this show would maybe come up with some more interesting things for these characters to do than spin in circles?

@bristler and I watched on Friday night, and just this morning over breakfast had a good conversation about the first four episodes of the new season now that they have settled in our brains a bit. We concluded that the writing (often noticeably clunky, like the dialogue is responsible for more narration than usual) and the tone (aggressively wacky) feel really off, especially compared to the prior season. I think we diagnosed the big issue, which is that Lily Tomlin and Jane Fonda are by far the most talented actors on this show (if you disagree, fight me in the parking lot) and it feels surprisingly unfortunate that their characters have, to this point in the new season, pretty much figured out their perspectives on each other. No matter how people feel about Grace and Frankie’s sexualities, the whole show has been about them finding each other and getting in deeper and deeper, and it’s less interesting to watch other characters have realizations about that than it is to watch Grace and Frankie having realizations about themselves. If the title characters are now limited to reacting to other people’s actions, and the title characters are played by the best actors on the show, the whole show’s gonna suffer. And is suffering, very much so, at least for these first four episodes. I’m definitely still excited for the final twelve in 2022 (twelve! I cannot believe this season will have sixteen eps!), but I’m pretty disappointed so far.

Stuff I Loved:

The family brunch. These families have been entwined for so long, and the backstory for this particular brunch was so fun (even though I didn’t care for the effects they did to depict Grace and Robert 25 years ago; there was no need for a visual flashback in the scene). I love that Grace hit Frankie with a wiffle ball bat. I love that the two couples realized some of the emotional reasons behind their decisions to lie to each other about Bud’s Bunny and about M’Challah. I love the way Jane Fonda sounds uttering the phrase “Bud’s Bunny” with little to no irony. I love that Grace is able to recognize and articulate just how deep and miserable her anger issues were, albeit with the continued help of her omnipresent martini, and that Frankie told her she’d now make up a holiday in order to spend more time with Grace. I really, really hope Frankie does exactly this at some point in the remaining episodes of the season. I love that Grace is generally a pretty good person now, with aspirations of being a delightful person. I love that she and Frankie don’t have it in them to stay angry with each other, and I love all the evidence that they really, really talk to each other about everything now.

Frankie talking to the man at the office (I don’t remember who he was supposed to be? A toilet manufacturer? I didn’t mention this before, but I actually got pretty high while watching?!? Believe it or not, this was the first time I smoked pot and watched Grace and Frankie at the same time despite having enjoyed both activities on their own for quite some time. I would recommend the combo! And I think I still pretty much got what was happening) about paying for the toilet parts with candy. This whole subplot with the money laundering was absurd and not that interesting, but I loved this particular scene because it was finally evidence of some really thoughtful writing. The concepts aren’t enough! You have to write them into good dialogue! And the whole cash/candy thing was a moment of dialogue that only someone as hilarious as Lily Tomlin could pull off. Which she did, IMO.

In a show about super messy people, Coyote has stayed sober this entire time. He is sober, employed, in love, and preparing to buy a full-sized house with his partner. He hasn’t murdered anyone in his family. Hasn’t even attempted murder once.

In 2017 or whatever, Grace Hanson would have been furious about Frankie using obscure Beatles references like a treasure map when hiding the cash. But here in 2021, she cooperates and even gets in on the fun. The writing is very unsubtle this season, but that did feel like a reasonably subtle moment that shows how good of a partner she is for Frankie. (Platonic, of course! So platonic. Female friendship, amirite?)

Stuff I Did NOT Love and Felt Incredibly Negative About:

Brianna. I can only conclude that June Diane Raphael has decided she’s happy with playing a character whose primary role in life is to be hot and mean. She succeeds at being hot and mean, but I have reached my limit with this character. I realize we’re only a quarter of the way into the season, but I don’t think I can take another arc about her learning to compromise only to reveal to Barry that she never intended to compromise at all. At this point, it’s both abusive and boring. How?! The Grace/Brianna parallels aren’t interesting anymore, because one character has grown and the other is stagnant. I get that Brianna was raised in an emotionally stilted environment by two unhealthy people. But I think it would be very cool if she could learn something from her mother at this point. Grace has put a ton of effort into dealing with her “rabbit-killing, mad-at-the-world anger.” She’s put a ton of effort into figuring out what makes her happy, what she wants her life to look like. She’s even started accepting her age and abilities without shame. And that growth is believable; Grace is still short-tempered and she still slugs back way too many martinis and she struggles to articulate certain things, but she’s grown into a truly lovely human. And while, as a daughter with a mother, I can absolutely attest to the fact that it can be difficult and uncomfortable to learn lessons from one’s mother, Brianna really, really should. Grace spent decades letting anger and shame trap her in a small, miserable life. Brianna—and even Mallory, who just seems like a vapid idiot this season—are traveling that same path, but there’s someone right there who could really help, maybe even more than Frankie helped when the Hanson girls were first growing up.

The arraignment. The scene might’ve been salvageable if it was filmed from Grace’s perspective, and filmed to reflect how surreal and improbable it all was. But speaking of non-linear progress, this scene erased everything Nick Skolka has done to put himself in my good graces (LOL) over the past couple seasons. I mean, I tried, man. I even wrote fic about Nick, Grace, and Frankie making a genuine effort at polyamory. But the arraignment is so emotionally manipulative, such a slap in the face of everything Grace has worked for, and while we’re certainly “supposed” to feel the weight of the moment, I mean, it’s not like we’re supposed to be like, “Oh, cool, we’re in a rom com now! This is adorable!” it still felt bad and unearned and slapdash.

And I want Frankie to process these things with her! Frankie seems so happy to have all this information about Grace and how Grace feels, but I want to see scenes in which we can gain an understanding of how Frankie actually feels. Hearing Frankie talk to other people about how Grace feels is interesting, but it’s like there’s no room in these episodes for us to learn anything new about Frankie herself.

Grace’s transitional wig. Is so. Bad. It is. Such a. Bad wig. Oof. I mean, I like what they’re doing with Grace’s hair from a plot perspective, although (see one bullet up) I would really like to get more of an understanding of what’s happening in Grace’s head, not just on top of her head. And gosh, Frankie would be a really good person to talk to about this in a conversation that lasts longer than 30 seconds. But the wig! She’s in a wig in all four episodes, of course, since Jane Fonda went grey and cut her hair short before they started filming this season. The wig for episodes 1 and 2 is fine; it’s a good approximation of Grace’s typical hair, and of course we know that canonically Grace’s hair isn’t 100% her own hair anyway. But the wig with grey roots looks so weird. The part that’s growing out doesn’t look the same as the hair on the wig from 1 and 2. And the grey roots look like a yarmulke. I cannot wait to get to the point in the season when Grace goes all the way grey.

(One more thing about the hair. I can’t let it go. I paused the show while we were watching to rant, but I’m not done.) I had the great privilege of seeing Jane Fonda in person at a protest in 2019. She is an insanely beautiful human. She was growing her hair out and it was partially dyed blonde and partially grey. It looked really cool. I am not ashamed to say I spent that day learning many things about the climate crisis and about Jane Fonda’s hair. Having seen her in real life with her real hair looking that fucking great, I just have a an extra-large grudge against everyone involved in that horrible wig. The wig is necessary, but it didn’t have to be this bad.

What Do I Care About Now?

I am pretty intrigued by the way Grace threw out her real age in a conversation with Nick and Elena. She has nothing to fear anymore! She’s so chill about aging! What could go wrong? I assume that Nick and Elena maneuvering for Nick to be on house arrest in Grace's house specifically has to do with the fact that Grace is 82. She’s gonna find out that Nick is allowed to be with her because she’s ancient and helpless and the court took pity. Or something like that. She’s going to feel betrayed on top of feeling stifled and overwhelmed by Nick’s presence. I want to see where this goes for sure.

Other than that, and other than the fact that I really do continue to believe this show is moving in a direction in which Grace and Frankie will choose each other, I feel very whatever about this whole thing. I love this show and I will always appreciate this show for giving me some incredible characters to spend years of my life writing about, and for bringing me some pretty amazing friendships. Speaking of those friendships, yesterday @ellydash and @telanu and I were talking about some of the incredible TV we’ve watched recently, like Ted Lasso and Hacks and Fleabag and Killing Eve, and how great it feels to watch beautifully written TV crafted by writers who are profoundly—organically yet intentionally—attuned to even the most minor character’s rhythm. The disappointment of these first few episodes of the new G&F season feels like a mild disappointment rather than a sharp heartbreak, and that has a lot to do with being deeply invested in other shows that could also go in all kinds of different directions but with writing I fundamentally trust.

Also Jane Fonda and Lily Tomlin are my forever faves and my appreciation for their performances and general awesomeness onscreen and in life is undiminished. So that’s pretty cool.

#grace and frankie #meta by me #grace and frankie s7 spoilers #a lesbian watches ted lasso #grace hanson is a gay disaster #except #she's not even a disaster anymore #she's totally fine and men keep bothering her!#frankie bergstein is a bisexual mess

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sisterspooky1013 · 3 years

Text

Only One Choice, Part 2, Chapter 14

Read it here on AO3 / Tagging @today-in-fic

“It was so good to see you, Will,” Valerie says in a muffled voice against his chest as he has her wrapped up tightly in a bear hug.

“I know, I’m so glad I ran into you,” Mulder replies, brushing his hands over her back. He pulls away and kisses her softly on the cheek.

“It makes me really happy to see you so happy,” she says with a smile, her long brunette hair lifting softly in the breeze, brown eyes holding affection that can only be held between two people who have the type of bond that can withstand a breakup and then a transition from lovers to friends.

“Likewise,” he says, nodding towards the small swell of her growing belly.

“I’d love to meet your girlfriend someday, if you think she’d be okay with that,” she says, collecting her purse.

“Yes, I’d really like that. I think you two would get along really well, actually,” he says, and she smirks at him.

“You’re not afraid we’ll bond over having to sit through your shitty movie collection?” she teases, and he laughs good-naturedly.

“Hey, Scully likes my shitty movies, that’s why we’re a perfect match,” he retorts.

She squeezes his arm.

“Call me sometime, okay?”

He nods and watches her walk away, feeling like he’s on cloud nine. A great friendship with his ex-girlfriend, a promising new love with the woman of his dreams; he can only imagine what lies in store next. He practically skips on the walk back to his car, wondering if Scully might let him come by tonight, hoping that he won’t have to wait until the weekend to see her again. He decides to call her as soon as he gets home.

The first few times he gets her machine, he assumes she must be at her mother’s. When she still hasn’t answered or called back by 9:00 pm, he’s confused. When he emails her the next morning and still hasn’t gotten a response at 10:00am, he’s officially worried.

Something is wrong.

———

She had eventually turned off the ringer on her phone and put the volume all the way down on her answering machine so she wouldn’t have to hear his increasingly obsessive attempts to get ahold of her, then slept fitfully all night.

She knows that she needs to give him some kind of response or he’ll show up on her doorstep, but she can’t bring herself to face him, even in voice. Every time the image of him with that woman pops back into her head, she feels a lump form in her throat immediately, a sick sadness welling in her belly. She’s pored over every memory in her mind, every interaction they’ve had, searching for signs. Signs that he was seeing someone else, that he wasn’t interested in anything other than getting in her pants, that he was lying to her. Her thorough inventory brings up next to nothing, which almost makes it worse; how adept he must have been at creating a false reality for her to exist in. Perhaps he’s garnered some tips from the sociopaths he studies, or maybe his background in psychology allowed him to manipulate her.

When she arrives at work, she is unsurprised though still dismayed to see an email waiting for her.

From: [email protected]

Sent: May 5, 1997 7:57 am

To: [email protected]

Subject: Where are you?

Scully, you’re freaking me out. Are you okay? Please respond.

She deletes it immediately and tries to focus on work. She performs an autopsy and teaches a class, both welcome distractions from her emotional torment. Just before 11:00 am, the phone rings.

“Autopsy bay, this is Trudy…yep, she’s here, one second.”

Trudy turns and opens her mouth to speak, but sees Dana waving her arms and shaking her head. She makes a confused face and puts the phone back to her ear.

“Oh, actually she just stepped out, sorry. Can I take a message?”

She watches as Trudy scribbles something on a piece of paper.

“Uh huh…yes. Okay, I’ll tell her…you have my word.”

She replaces the phone on the receiver and hands Dana the paper with a sympathetic frown.

“Trouble in paradise?” she asks rhetorically.

Dana looks down and deciphers Trudy’s messy scrawl.

Call Mulder immediately. Send a sign of life.

She crumples it up and tosses it into the trash can.

“You wanna talk about it?” Trudy asks.

“Nope,” Dana replies, turning back to the computer.

From: [email protected]

Sent: May 5th, 1997 11:03am

To: [email protected]

Subject: PLEASE RESPOND

Scully, I don’t know what the hell is going on, but if you don’t reply to this within an hour I’m driving down there.

Please respond

She feels fresh tears well in her eyes. Why is he trying so hard if he’s seeing someone else anyway? Why is he doing this to her? With a surge of anger, she hits reply.

From: [email protected]

Sent: May 5th, 1997 11:05am

To: [email protected]

Subject: RE:PLEASE RESPOND

I’m fine, Mulder. Please just give me some space.

With that she closes her email, begs someone to take her second class of the day, and goes home.

———

He feels like he’s stepped into an alternate universe. He’d left her happy and satisfied, and out of nowhere she’s shutting him out. What does she need space for? Space from him? Why? Did he come on too strong and freak her out? He thought they’d moved past that. He picks up the phone again.

“Autopsy bay, this is Trudy.”

“Trudy, it’s Agent Mulder again. Look, I don’t want to put you in an awkward position, but is Dana there?”

She pauses. “No, she went home for the day. She seemed pretty upset.”

“Do you have any idea why?” he implores.

“No, other than the fact that it seems to be directed at you.”

“Yeah, that much I gathered. Thanks, Trudy, sorry to bother you.”

“No worries, good luck.”

He slams the phone down, grabs his jacket off the back of his chair and leaves.

———

She is half expecting his knock, but it still makes her jump, nearly causing her to spill her wine. She wants to just ignore him until he goes away, but she knows his proclivity towards persistence won’t let him do that. Better to just get it over with, she thinks as she slumps towards the door.

The second she lays eyes on him in his slacks and dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his tie discarded, she feels her chin pucker and tears threaten her eyes. As angry as she is, she immediately wants to go to him, to curl up within his embrace so he can comfort her. The problem is, what she needs comforting from is him.

“What is going on?” he says with a mix of frustration and fear.

She stands in the open doorway, not making space for him to enter.

“I saw you,” she says, her voice strained with emotion.

“You saw me...what?” he asks, his face a mask of confusion.

She lifts her chin, clenching her jaw and summoning strength.

“I saw you with her. Yesterday, at the Bluebird Cafe. After I had lunch with my family.” her voice holds steady, anger carrying her through.

His face falls and her gut twists. She wishes she didn’t have to watch this.

“THAT is what this is about?” he asks, but there’s no shame or regret in his voice. If anything, he sounds a little mad.

She nods curtly.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he spits out, and she recoils a little at his vitriol. “Let me in, Scully. Right now,” he demands, and against her better judgement she moves aside.

He pushes past her into the apartment and she closes the door softly, leaving it unlocked in case either of them decides to make a hasty exit.

“Did you consider,” he begins, his back to her, “maybe, I don’t know, asking me about what you saw?” He turns to face her, one hand on his hip and his face contorted with anger. “Or were you just planning to avoid me until I gave up and went away again?”

She doesn’t know what to say. She’s confused about why he’s yelling at her when he’s the one who did something wrong. She just looks at him, expressionless.

He juts his chin out expectantly, waiting for an answer, but gets none. She averts her eyes.

“Is that all this is worth to you, Scully?” he continues, “you’re ready to throw this away over a simple misunderstanding, without even talking to me?”

She lifts her head and looks at him with a pained expression. “Okay then, talk,” she gets out.

He drops his head in frustration. “The woman you saw me with,” he says flatly, lifting his head to meet her eye, “was my ex-girlfriend, Valerie. I ran into her while I was running errands yesterday, and we had lunch. She has a boyfriend and is three months pregnant. We spent the majority of our meal together talking about you.”

She shakes her head gently, her throat closing as a tear rolls down her cheek. “I saw you kiss her,” she whispers, her jaw quivering.

“You saw me kiss her on the cheek? I also kiss my mother on the cheek, Scully, it’s hardly an intimate gesture.”

She feels a new wave of sickness pass over her, but this time it’s entirely different. This time it’s the sick feeling of realizing that she was very, very, wrong, and that she has, yet again, hurt the man who loves her. She opens her mouth to speak but she can’t find the right words.

He steps forward but doesn’t touch her. When he speaks, his voice is softer, more defeated than anything else.

“I’m sorry that you saw something that upset you. But if you actually thought for a single second that I want to be with anyone but you, you’re fucking insane. I meant what I said the day you left my apartment last year. I felt it then, and I feel it now. I want this to work more than anything, Scully, but for that to be possible you have to trust me. I can’t live with the knowledge that you might just shut me out at a moment’s notice when you get scared.”

She keeps her head down, overwhelmed by a combination of shame, embarrassment, and gratitude that he wouldn’t let her walk away. She does not deserve this man, but she wants to.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, still unable to meet his eye.

“I know you are,” he replies, moving towards the door. “Take the space you need, and let me know when you’re ready to trust me.”

When she hears the click of the door closing behind him, she collapses to the floor, sobbing for so many reasons she couldn’t possibly name them all. When it’s faded to snivels and hiccups, she stands and goes to the hallway, picking up the phone.

“Hello?”

“Missy,” she chokes out, “Can you come over?”

———

He’s not sure if leaving was the right thing to do. The risk that she might not come back around is one that sends his stomach into knots, but at the same time he finds it hard to accept that she wasn’t even going to give him the opportunity to explain. He’s been actively working to temper expressing his feelings so he doesn’t overwhelm her, but then she gets it in her head that he’s not invested. It feels like he can’t win.

He goes back to work and stops by Kirkbride’s office to apologize for disappearing. Kirkbride just gives him a quizzical look, clearly not having noticed he had left. The rest of the day he buckles down on his caseload, distracting himself from the catastrophic thoughts that dance through his head, and gets more work done than he has in quite a while. When he leaves the office just after 5:00 pm, he feels melancholy and grouchy, and annoyed that he left the ball in her court.

The elevator dings to announce his arrival on the fourth floor and he steps out with a takeout bag in his hand, eyes downcast. Halfway down the hall, he readies his key and looks up, startling when he sees Scully sitting on the floor against his door, knees tucked up against her chest and her forehead resting on her kneecaps. She’s very still, and as he gets closer he realizes that she’s asleep. His heart aches knowing that she’s been waiting that long, that she didn’t want to leave without talking to him.

He crouches down beside her, setting his dinner on the floor, and gently touches her shoulder. She jerks, her head snapping up and her eyes wild for a moment while she tries to orient herself. When she focuses on him, she immediately starts crying, reaching out to wrap her arms around his neck. He’s surprised by her uncharacteristically emotional response, but says nothing and just holds her until his knees start to ache, at which point he sits down on the floor and pulls her into his lap. They stay this way for several minutes, long enough for one of his neighbors to walk by and politely avert their eyes, entering their apartment as though there was nothing out of the ordinary happening in the hallway. When the crying seems to have subsided a bit, he gives her a little squeeze.

“Wanna go inside?” he asks, and she nods against his chest, his shirt damp from her tears.

She stands unsteadily and he follows her, grabbing the takeout bag off the floor. They enter the apartment and Priscilla plods up to them with an excited meow. Scully leans down and picks her up, tucking the cat against her neck as they nuzzle each other. Mulder smiles at them with a bemused expression.

“She was talking to me through the door,” Scully says with a small smile, “she heard me knocking and was meowing from the other side. We had a conversation.”

Affection swells in his chest and he steps forward to kiss her. Her shoulders drop and she lets Priscilla down so she can get closer, threading her arms around his waist and kissing him back in earnest. Desperate, thought I’d lost you again kisses that are as arousing as they are a relief, because he knows that they will be okay.

He pulls back a little and she makes a whimpering sound in protest.

“I’m gonna go change really quick, okay? Then can we talk?” he asks, and she sighs and nods. “You can have half my Chinese,” he adds, and she gives him a tight-lipped smile.

When he sits on the couch beside her five minutes later, she scoots closer so they are pressed against each other, and he gathers that she needs physical closeness right now. He loops an arm around her shoulder and she crawls right back into his lap, curled against him as though trying to fuse her body to his own. Her head tucked beneath his chin, she holds one of his hands in her lap, fingers laced tightly together, and begins to speak.

“After you left, Missy came over and we talked for a long time. I’ve come to realize how much I’m still affected by...what happened last year. I harbor a lot of guilt for being unfaithful to Ethan, and that’s actually largely why I married him even though I knew my heart wasn’t in it.” She pulls in a deep breath, pressing their joined hands tight against her belly, trying to get even closer. “When you and I reconnected, in a way it felt like a chance to validate it. As though things working out with us would mean that what I did wasn’t as bad, because there was something real between us. But at the same time, a big part of me doesn’t believe that I deserve to be happy.” Her voice remains steady, but he feels the wet drop of a tear on the back of his hand.

He tightens his arm around her waist. “I’ve always been a person who values doing the right thing, and integrity was something that was very important to my father. It was his measure of a person’s character, and that’s something he instilled in me as well.” She sits up a bit so she can look at him, and his heart breaks at her red-rimmed eyes, her icy irises so mournful. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, Mulder. You haven’t given me any reason not to. It’s just that I don’t feel like I deserve this, especially with you, and I’m waiting for the moment it all comes crashing down. So when I saw you with that woman, it was almost like I’d been waiting for it, expecting it. Getting what I deserved.”

He brings his palms to her cheeks, brushing away the tears with his thumbs.

“Thank you for telling me that,” he says softly. “I wish I could change how you feel, but I know that I can’t. I do know how it feels to spend your life harboring guilt over something you could have done differently, and I can tell you that punishing yourself won’t make it any easier. It makes me really sad that you’ll always regret how we met.”

She closes her eyes and shakes her head gently. When she opens them, her expression is more tender than it is mournful.

“I don’t regret it, Mulder. I do feel guilt, and shame, for not ending it with Ethan so we could have done things the right way, but I could never regret meeting you.”

He pulls her back into an embrace, her arms wrapping around his ribcage, and plants a kiss to the top of her head.

“Are we okay?” he asks softly.

“I hope so,” she says hoarsely.

“Is this a bad time to tell you that Valerie wants to meet you sometime?” he asks, and she laughs.

“I don’t know, did you tell her that I freaked out on you because you had lunch with her?” she replies, and he can already hear her tone shifting back to their typical lighthearted banter.

“No, of course not. That’ll be our little secret. Well, plus Trudy. I think Trudy knows too much honestly.”

She laughs again, and god he could spend the rest of his life trying to make her laugh. In fact, that’s exactly what he hopes to do.

“Speaking of meeting people,” she continues, “Missy mentioned you to my mother yesterday and she wants to meet you.”

A grin stretches across his mouth, but he doesn’t say anything. She pulls back to look at his face, to gauge his reaction, and smiles softly in response.

“You want me to meet your mom?” he asks, the delight on his face carrying over to his voice.

Her mouth screws up shyly. “My little brother will probably be there too, and Missy. Is that too much?”

He shakes his head. “Sounds perfect. But, there are some friends I’d like you to meet too, if we’re meeting people.”

“The Lone Gunmen?” she asks with a skeptical lilt.

“Those are the ones. They’re my only friends, actually. Aside from Val.” Just then, Priscilla hops up onto the couch beside them. “Oh, and you Priscilla, sorry,” he adds.

Scully smiles at the cat, and then at him. “Can I bring Missy as a human buffer?” she asks hopefully.

“Of course. You may set a record for the highest number of female visitors to their lair in a day.”

“Lair?” she asks with wide eyes.

He chuckles. “They’ll grow on you, I promise.”

#the x files #dana scully #fox mulder #gillovny #txf #msr #sculder #x files fanfic #alternate universe

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thegrinningkitten · 4 years

Text

Apple Incident FAQ

Putting it together in this form to better organize all the questions I’ve gotten.

Obligatory disclaimer: All of the things written here are applicable only to my interpretation of DreamTale and do not reflect the canon version of the story in any way. DreamTale belongs to Joku.

= General lore (how everything functions and stuff) =

• DreamTale is treated as a part of UTMV.

• Dream and Nightmare aren’t monsters. They’re actually balls of energy inhabiting solid bodies. Consequently, they’re physically stronger and more resilient than monsters are. Their bodies also won’t dust if they die.

• Consequently, the twins don’t have monster magic. So they can’t form any projectiles until they consume the apples. The only type of magic they’re capable of is the one that allows them to manipulate the motion of their bodies (and some objects, as seen with Nightmare and the throwing knife).

• The twins can’t sense other people’s emotions until they consume the apples.

• The apples don’t produce the energy of feelings but “cleanse” and redistribute it. They actually work as an essential element in the cycle of feelings, and without them the emotions’ “efficiency” will eventually fall to zero. However, they aren’t an infinite energy source; they collect, manage and expel existing energy instead.

• Nightmare before the Incident and corrupted Nightmare are treated as the same person in this AU. There’s trauma and a variety of ailments setting those apart, but he’s the same person at his core.

= Comic-related questions =

• Why the villagers wanted the apples in the first place?

Dream described them as a magical source of positive energy. How exactly they work isn’t quite clear, but whoever has them probably gets to be happy for the rest of his life, right? :D

• Was the whole village in on the plan to steal the apples?

Nope, only the three attackers plus the bunny, who was their accomplice, and the family member she’s heard talking to off-screen.

• What’s up with the tea party? Why were they trying to drug Dream?

The plan was for the twins to come to the “tea party”, where the bunny would drug them, and they’ll just sleep peacefully while the trio takes a few apples. In the end, no one was supposed to get hurt.

• Why did it take so many cups of tea to effect Dream?

The tea is supposed to work on monsters — and affect monster souls and monster magic — and Dream isn’t a monster.

• What did Dream do with the last golden Apple?

Ate it, thinking he’d be able to keep it safe from the “attacker” that way.

• Why did Dream become a statue?

Basically, that’s what happens when positive energy violently clashes with negative, and they rapidly cancel each other out.

• Is Dream conscious inside the statue?

Not entirely. He’s in a dream-like state that can be affected by the fluctuations of energies around him (so, pretty much he’s seeing a vague continuous nightmare). However, he isn’t conscious enough for time and reality to register. Let’s be real, otherwise he’ll end up completely insane by the the time he breaks out.

Does Nightmare think Dream is dead or does he know that eventually Dream will be un-petrified?

Nightmare doesn’t know anything for sure, but he hopes Dream is still alive. Otherwise he wouldn’t have bothered taking the rest of the black apples. It was initially a protective act rather than a vengeful one.

• Are there villagers that survived/didn't go on this punitive crusade? Or did Nightmare finish them all off and leave an empty world?

Yes, there are those who survived. The mob shown in the comic isn’t the whole population of the village. There are people who were lucky enough to be rescued early, and then there are rare few that Nightmare spared — and they got rescued after that.

Other than that, the world left behind is devastated and soaked in negativity, with zero intelligent life present (except for Dream).

= Future story =

• What does Nightmare do with Dream's paralyzed stone body after the attack?

He lets it be. He starts visiting it a few centuries later, even tries to free his brother, but is ultimately unsuccessful.

• How long will Dream stay stuck in stone?

Just like in canon, it’ll be 500 years before he ends up free.

• How does Dream get revived from stone?

Simplified answer: Core Frisk gets help in taking the statue to a highly positive AU, where Dream’s energies are finally stabilized, and he is naturally freed from stone. Inside corrupted DreamTale the energy of the golden apple is in constant conflict with the surrounding negativity — which maintains the state he’s stuck in. (Just to clarify: general, directionless negativity alone isn’t enough to turn him into stone again.)

• What is Dream’s reaction to Nightmares corruption?

Very unsure, actually. It takes him a little while to figure out the goopy monster is even the same Nightmare, and even then he has trouble telling whether his brother is still in there. It messes with him a lot.

• Is Nightmare angry at Dream? Will they become enemies when Dream breaks out of his stone prison?

While I could spend a long time just explaining Nightmare (rationalizing his behavior and his story is a huge part of why I even ended up making this alternative interpretation), the simplified answer would be... Nightmare, the way he is with all the black apples and corruption, sees any kind of positivity as a threat. Positivity literally hurts him. Depending on how strong it is, it could bring unease and nausea or it could result in excruciating physical pain. And his natural instinct (especially early on) is to destroy the source of pain.

Dream just happens to be one of the brightest, strongest sources of positivity, so he’s just... a natural threat, so to speak. So the animosity Nightmare experiences towards his brother is directed at Dream as an entity, not as a person.

• So Nightmare's fully corrupted now? There's no way to bring him back?

The only way that wouldn’t end up in an absolute disaster would be extracting his apple “soul” (killing him in the process), merging it with Dream’s “soul” and replanting the Tree of Feelings from the resulting “seed”, which would pretty much just restart the cycle.

• Would anything significantly change from here on out from the canon, or would there be subtle changes?

That’s a question I struggle to answer simply because I’m not sure what’s canon anymore.

Technically, this whole thing with reinterpreting DreamTale started with an alternate multiverse I call SpectrumVerse, but that’s a huge different thing for discussion. I can talk about it, if anyone’s interested, but I don’t think this FAQ is a place for it.

#Jass rambles #long post #asks

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darthkruge · 3 years

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heyy Megan, I'm trying to do a character study on Anakin but im finding very limited information online. what do you think are some of his worst and best traits? his personality, humor and like his values? thank you so much,, hope you have a good day/night

omg hi!! thank you for asking me!!

*cracks knuckles* let’s get into it

anakin skywalker character analysis

best traits:

intelligence, overall skill, curiosity

anakin was building droids from scraps when he was a child. he spoke huttese and basic from a young age, as well. he’s an insane battle strategist, wonderfully skilled in battle/with a lightsaber, and incredible pilot! he can pick up new skills quickly, as well. i’m just gonna link this post by @chokemeanakin bc it just sums it up real nice.. but yes smart boy love him

compassion, capacity for emotions, empathy, understanding

anakin feels things deeply. i’ve talked about this a lot before lol. but yeah he is frequently in conflict over the sheer weight of the emotions he carries. further, as a jedi, this is not something his peers could relate to. but he always tries to be there for his friends and would do anything to ease their pain. and i think that anakin seeks to understand others. he’s spent so much of his life feeling alone and like no one related to him; he wants to know how other people work, feel, and think.

loyalty, friendship, caring

anakin is so fucking loyal to those he loves. and, tying into my previous point, he loves deeply. he cares, he always has. he treats droids as humans and forms attachments, even though they may be forbidden. he held onto that need for love, for connection even after he joined the order. and he would defend those he loves til the very end...

selflessness, protectiveness, bravery

anakin would literally dive headfirst into danger to save someone he loves. he doesn’t care about hurting himself or honestly whatever happens to him, as long as those he cares for are safe.

worst traits:

impulsivity, recklessness

i think we’ve all seen anakin be a bit impulsive at times... sometimes, he just doesn’t think everything through. this is especially clear when someone he loves is in danger. anakin’s lost so many people that when he’s faced with the threat of losing another, his judgment can become clouded.

insecurity, jealousy, fear

anakin is frequently jealous, which stems from his insecurities. he was probably conflicted a lot; brought into the order as a young child and told he was the chosen one. the weight of the galaxy was placed on his shoulders and, yet, he was held back in classes as a padawan, he didn’t make rank (canonically). i think these things are what allowed palpatine to manipulate him; palpatine knew anakin was afraid, insecure, and, yet, arrogant (my next point dw). he tapped into this and because anakin and the council did not have much mutual trust (aside from like obi-wan), it was easier to get to him. especially because palpatine used anakin’s fear of losing padme and his unborn children to do so. fuck palpatine bro-

arrogance

yes, anakin was insecure. yes, he was also arrogant. let me explain myself. he occassionally rushes into things without thinking, thinking he can handle them. i think a lot of this stems from being told he was the chosen one from such a young age. that title combined with his skill?! it makes sense he’d internalize it. i am now going to stop myself before i rant about how the gifted education system is a fuckfest. this is coming from someone who spent years in that program. anyway-

personality/overall rant about his life/motivations:

i think i summed up a lot of his personality within the best and worst traits because i got ahead of myself but im going to say some more!! i think a lot of anakin’s personality is dependent on his deep capacity for emotions. you can see that throughout ROTS, he was conflicted almost all the time. he grew up as a slave and all he wanted was to protect his mother. he built droids to help her and competed in podraces to tryand get them anything that could help.

then, he was taken to the order. suddenly, all these amazing traits he has make sense!! but then the person who’s supposed to train him (qui-gon) dies after anakin’s only known him for a short period of time. anakin’s attachment issues are abundant (i don’t think i need to explain that one) so of course he grows close to obi-wan! but obi-wan was trying to be strong for anakin. even though obi-wan struggled himself with attachment, he tried to be strong and put up a front as a “good” jedi for anakin to look up to. while this was helpful, anakin probably just felt more conflicted, as no one in his life could relate to the bredth of emotions he felt. this caused him to be more introverted and withdrawn (i talk about that in this post)

then, he loses his mother, she dies in his arms. the only person he’d wanted to protect from a young age, who he left to join the jedi, dies in his arms. he blames himself for this, thinking he should have gotten there faster, should have done something more. he probably also blamed the jedi, to at least some extent. why do these powers matter if they can’t save the people he loves? i believe he acted out of anger, killing the tuskens, because (at least to some degree) of the jedi. instead of teaching him how to express his emotions (pain, fear, loss, grief, etc.), they train him. to some degree, he might think all he’s good for is these skills. so he acts out of anger, slaughtering them.

and then finally he finds someone who loves him in the way he wants to be loved. padme stays by his side, even after he killed the tuskens. she sees the good in him and treats him as a man, not a prophecy. but once again, this motif of fear remains! he has to hide this love, one of the only pure and good things in his life! he has to live in fear every second of every day because, if the council finds out that he found happiness and love, everything is ruined.

but then he starts getting the vision’s that padme will die. and not just padme, now his unborn children could die, too. the one thing he has that is good and purely his could now be ripped away. he knew he was helpless, knew there was nothing he could do to stop it by himself. the council isn’t that helpful, telling him to learn to let it go with the force. while that might help any other jedi, it just pushed anakin away. he would never be able to just surrender and let go to the force, not when the life of his entire family is at risk!

and he finds palpatine, someonoe who has spent years trying to manipulate him. but palpatine is smart, he’s cunning. anakin didn’t know what the real intentions were and, truly, he probably didn’t want to know. he was blinded by his fear and if anything could save padme, he would do it. then the council try to get him to spy on palpatine. again, conflict. anakin’s loyalty is repeatedly questioned and pushed and prodded, he was probably so confused! he didn’t know who to trust. but, when you combine the current situation with his backstory with who he is and what he cares about, it makes sense why it all happened.

this is what i mean when i say conflict. he was pulled in a million directions constantly. and we all know how his story ends and i don’t want to cry so i’m not gonna detail it...

also: i’m not saying any of this excuses all of his choices, but it does explain them.

humor:

lowkey a dork

he is. and i love that about him. you can see this in the way he flirts with padme sometimes... like floating the pear to her and the whole “i don’t like sand” thing. he’s a fucking dork. can’t exactly blame him nor do i hold it against him! he didn’t have many close friends growing up and he was like pining for padme for years so it’s not like he spent that time creating a playbook

he’s also witty!

i think this comes with his intelligence; he’s witty and he’s quick. example: “general grievous, you’re shorter than i expected.” i mean he’s no sass-king obi-wan kenobi but anakin definitely can hold his own in a verbal sparring match!

also i headcanon him as having horrible puns but loving them!

values:

love, friendship, connections

at his core, anakin just wants to find someone who understands him and his emotions. who can relate to him. he wants those connections; in fact, he actively seeks them out. love is a key part of his identity. i talk about this in this post about his love languages so imma just link it there!

success, validation

tying into his determination, anakin wants to do well! he pushes himself and i think he’s a perfectionist, too. you can see this in the way he holds himself as a general; he doesn’t slack off, doesn’t not care. he understands the responsibility he has in that role and he takes it seriously! and just in his overall skill level, even though he was a bit of a child-prodigy, he clearly spent a long time training. he probably also had some imposter syndrome going on and was constantly trying to prove his worth.

----

uhh yeah i think i got everything?? yes?? he’s so complex and i legit love him immensely. doing character analysis for anakin is my favorite thing in the entire universe! if anyone has anything they want to add, please feel free!!

#anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker character analysis #anakin character analysis #this is a rant i apologize #anakin thoughts #character analysis

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kxrapika-zxldyck · 3 years

Text

Crying x and x Comfort- A KilluGon hurt/comfort fic

"Kite is... already dead." Those four words echoed through Gon's head, warping and distorting themselves until they were virtually unintelligible.

After a few seconds of trying to process the magnitude of Pitou's words, their meaning finally sunk in. Kite was gone. Gon couldn't save him. He had failed. The minuscule spark of hope left inside him disappeared instantly.

Pitou let Kite fall over, boneless, in front of the distressed boy. Gon gasped, taking a shaky breath as he tried to take in the scene in front of him. He felt his stomach lurch. He tried to speak, but only a strangled gasp came out. His throat was closing up, and his mouth felt dry.

Pitou observed the agonized boy carefully. If he made any sudden movements, it would be likely that he'd die.

Gon's eyes, usually beaming from excitement and charisma, had become grim. An ominous veil of grief and anguish had fallen over them.

"His soul is no longer there... He cannot be healed."

Tears started welling up in the young boy's eyes and he collapsed, his legs no longer able to support the weight of the anguish coursing through his battered body.

At the moment, Gon's mind could easily be compared to a whirling windstorm. Feelings of sadness, despair, and grief all took their place inside of him.

Slowly looking up, Gon could make out Pitou, intensely focused on healing the rest of his arm. The Royal Guard needed to be at full power if he was to defeat the emotionally conflicted threat that lay before him.

Suddenly, the emotions coursing through him dissipated and were replaced with a strong feeling of disbelief and confusion.

"Why are you healing your arm?" Gon heard himself say.

"Turn Kite back to normal!" He pleaded desperately.

A sinister expression appeared on Pitou's face. Gon had obviously not understood the severity of the situation. He was too entangled in his own grief.

"Please, after you finish what you're doing, bring Kite back..." he whispered, his voice raspy and filled with melancholy.

Gon clutched his chest, his heartbreak too severe to handle.

"Kite is... dead and it's my fault..." he murmured, still in disbelief.

"Kite is dead and it's my fault..."

"KITE IS DEAD AND IT'S MY FAULT!"

_____

"GON!"

The distressed boy shot up, gasping for air.

His eyes frantically darted around, trying to make sense of his surroundings.

He suddenly felt a warm hand on his trembling arm.

"Gon! What's wrong? Are you okay?!" Gon hastily jerked his head in the direction of the familiar voice.

Killua.

His eyebrows were furrowed, and he had a concerned expression plastered on his face. Gon's breathing gradually started to slow down.

"Hey Killua... Did I have another nightmare?"

"Yeah, and I think it was a bad one too; you were hyperventilating and whimpering in your sleep."

"Oh... Sorry." Gon muttered, feeling bad because of the disturbance.

He felt Killua's slender fingers gently graze his cheeks.

"You were crying."

The pale boy carefully wiped the trail of tears off of Gon's face.

"Wanna talk about it?"

_____

"It's the same nightmares as usual, about the fight with Pitou two years ago."

Killua sighed softly. He wished that there was a way to forget. He wished that Gon didn't have to feel this way.

Gon continued, anxiously entwining his fingers around the thin sheets on his bed.

"I could've saved Kite. It was my fault. Maybe if I would've been more strategic..."

Killua couldn't stand listening to Gon tear himself apart any longer.

"Gon, stop. You sound insane. This was Pitou's fault. We tried to save Kite; we really did. His fate was in no way your doing." Killua said, slightly twisting the truth, but if it could make Gon feel better, he was willing to do it.

Despite his cold and rough exterior, Killua really did know how to comfort Gon in times like this.

Unfortunately, this did not prevent Gon's tears, as they once again quickly trickled down his rosy cheeks.

"I wish he was still alive." Gon whispered, his voice cracking with emotion.

His tone of voice made Killua's heart feel like it was being shattered into a million pieces. He slowly placed his hands onto Gon's shoulders and pulled him into a tight embrace.

_____

Killua's body, held closely against his own, was a pleasant feeling, Gon decided. He carefully wrapped his arms around the other boy's neck, entwining his fingers in Killua's dishevelled hair.

"I know, me too." Killua answered softly, resting his chin on the crook of Gon's neck.

The two boys sat there, listening to each other's rapid heartbeats, absorbing body heat. Gon's tremulous breaths became slower, and eventually started to return back to normal. He could feel Killua's fluffy hair tickling his skin, making him crack a faint smile.

"Hey Gon, wanna go on a walk to clear your mind?"

Gon sighed, taking a deep breath.

"Sure."

Nights on Whale Island were especially mild and pleasant this time of year. Gon felt the gentle ocean breeze caress his face as he stepped outside. He inhaled deeply and glanced over to where Killua was standing.

Killua Zoldyck.

The boy that he had spent the last three years of his life with. His accomplice. His travel partner.

His best friend.

"What are you looking at, dummy?"

Gon was seized from his daydreams, looking up to Killua's face, which appeared to be twisted in confusion.

"Oh, nothing. I'm just... really glad you're here with me, Killua."

Gon saw a faint blush appear on Killua's cheeks. The flustered boy quickly looked away.

"You can't just say things like that!"

Gon smiled softly, slowly tearing his eyes off of Killua's reddened face.

"Let's go."

_____

"Where are you taking me, Gon?"

Killua was being led through the forest, trying to keep up with Gon, who was swiftly darting past trees with a determined look on his face.

"Wait and see."

After a few minutes of desperately trying to match Gon's superhuman speed and agility, the two boys finally made it to a clearing in the forest. There was a small beach on the other side, hidden from the main area of the island.

Gon gestured to Killua, urging him to sit down.

_____

The two boys were laying with their backs to the sand, heads tilted towards the star-speckled sky.

"Aunt Mito used to take me here whenever I got upset. She said the ocean waves were like a lullaby, and listening to the gentle sway of the waves would coax me back to sleep."

"Hey Gon..." Killua said, dismissing the other boy's previous statement "... I get them too."

Gon shifted slightly, facing Killua, a curious look on his face.

"... The nightmares, I mean."

Gon silently urged the other boy to continue.

"Mine are usually about my assassin training. I have this recurring dream about being forced to kill innocent bystanders for the approval of my parents. My big brother Illumi is always behind me, manipulating me, no- controlling me with his needles."

"Those nightmares are the worst. They're the ones that leave me gasping for air, panicked and unaware that I've woken up. Yeah, they can be traumatizing, but you need to remember that the nightmares aren't real. They're just bits of memories from the past that have come back to haunt you."

"The thing is, we've already experienced different versions our nightmares. We were brave enough to surpass them in real life. The unpleasant memories stored in our subconcious don't mean anything anymore. What's in the past is in the past."

Killua paused, not bothering to examine the expression on Gon's face.

"Obviously, it sucks. Sometimes I wish we could've just had a normal life together, without the pain and wounds. But because of it, we are strong. We've trained, fought, gained, and lost way more than anyone of our age, hell, more than most adults. That's what makes us who we are today."

Gon's vision started getting blurry from the amount of tears welling up in his eyes.

"So you shouldn't be worried about the nightmares anymore, Gon. I'll always be there to protect you."

Gon inhaled shakily, processing the last part of Killua's speech.

"Killua..."

The pale-faced teen finally looked over to where Gon was laying. His eyes widened at the intensity of emotions written on the other boy's face.

"Thank you, Killua."

_____

And so, the two boys watched the sunrise from the ocean, together. Gon knew he would cherish this moment forever. The view was picturesque.

The morning sun was reflected off of Killua's pasty white skin, his eyes glowing with astonishment at the mix of colours and hues painted across the ombre sky.

Gon could stare into his vivid blue eyes forever.

Killua rolled onto his side, facing his friend. Soft smiles crept onto both of their faces.

In that moment, they both realized how lucky they were to have each other.

~♡~

#killua zoldyck #gon freecss #killua #gon #hurt/comfort #fanfic #fic #fanfiction #gonkillu #killugon #freedyck #hxh #hunter x hunter #gay #angst #hxh angst #anime

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tinyboxxtink · 3 years

Text

Helpless *Part 5*

Note: I appreciate the support guys, you have no idea. You believe in this story and it makes me SO happy!! <3

Masterlist:

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 6

Tag List:

@wanniiieeee

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@word-scribbless

@dumauier

You promptly followed Arianna to the back, practically stepping on her heels.

"You're WRONG about him, Arianna. He's too smart for this, for me-- for us," You warned. "AND he works for the MAYOR. Do you really want to go to prison when he figures out our game?!"

"See but THAT'S how much faith I have in you babe," She didn't even hesitate to shut you down. "I know you would never get us in trouble..." She wrapped an arm around you.

"...EVER," The arm going around your shoulder was soon pushing you back out into the restaurant, where a now composed Rafael sat, watching you intensely.

"....What the fuck was that?" He said in an eerily calm voice.

"W-What are you talking abo--" You tried to speak but he immediately jumped over you in an angry voice.

"What the FUCK, was that?!" He asked again, then proceeded to talk not waiting for you to answer.

"I have never, EVER spoken ANYTHING about my father out loud. To ANYONE. I have spent my entire adult LIFE making sure of it. And here 30 minutes with you and I'm making a flippant comment about my childhood trauma?!" His fist pounded the bar.

"What, the fuck...did you do to me?" he growled.

Alright, keep calm. You had this.

"What did I DO to you?" You snorted, like it was the stupidest question in the world.

"Rafael 10 minutes ago you didn't even BELIEVE in the science, and now all of a sudden I put a SPELL on you? Are you out of your mind?!" You rolled your eyes with a dismissive laugh, clearly agitating him more. People tended to be easier to read when they became emotional, and certainly easier to manipulate.

"Then how do you explain it, hmm?" He licked his lips, signs of disgust. God you hated this.

"Gee, I don't know Rafael. You ever stop to think maybe it was something MORE than science, some kind of different 'voodoo'?!"

"Like what...?" He blinked at you, trying to figure out what you were implying.

"Something about you just makes me feel...safe," You placed your hand over his once more, playing with the hair on his knuckles.

"Look, I understand why you're upset. But-- you know, it's not only you who's vulnerable right now," You lowered your voice into a soft, soothing tone.

"You know, I've never told anyone else about me and Ari before," you bit your lip and looked at the floor. Sure you hadn't, except every other guy Ari had made you scam.

"You ever think that's why you just blurted out stuff about your dad? Maybe that we had a connection that was bigger than some emotional reading bullshit?" Gaslighting was always a great way to knock someone down real quick.

You saw Rafael's anger dissipate from his face; you watched as his eyes filled with hope. You knew you were preying on his very obvious need for acceptance and affection, and you hated yourself for it.

"I...well, maybe..." he rubbed the back of his neck, you saw the logical side of him fighting with his emotional side, trying to remind him that 'soulmates' or 'connections' didn't actually exist. And you watched it lose, as a beautiful smile crawled across his lips.

"Maybe you're right," He now took both your hands, and looked deep into your eyes. Right then you could see every little bit of trauma, hurt, anguish, wanting, all being pushed down by the growing look of hope, and security. And suddenly, you couldn't do it anymore.

"No, I'm not," you dropped his hands, unable to look at him anymore.

"Wh-What? Seriously?" He shook his head in utter disbelief, trying to figure out how the hell you were so hot and cold from one second to the next.

"Look just, take this," You scribbled on a check and handed it to him. "Go pay at the register, and get out of here. And don't come back,"

"What the fu-- are you on something?" he stared at the check, then you, then the sky like he was looking for answers.

"Look, I'm--I'm begging you, Rafael. Walk out of here RIGHT NOW, before Arianna comes out here," you almost whispered, praying she wasn't listening.

"....Why do you not want--"

"Just, forget it. Please, go. PLEASE," Your voice was shaking, tears lined your eyes. You had literally never been this unhinged emotionally in front of someone other than Arianna before, EVER.

"I..." Rafael was clearly shocked and disturbed by what was unfolding, but he didn't want to see you like this. You could see him backing off because he pitied you, he felt sorry for whatever inner turmoil was happening with you, even if he didn't understand it. He put his hands up and walked to the register, pay and give you one last sad look before disappearing into the night.

You felt your legs shaking, your heart beating outside of your chest. You had NEVER let Arianna down before, ever. You had never just...broken, like that. Lying was your LIFE. You barely had a moment to process what just happened before Arianna came storming out from the kitchen.

"What the HELL, Y/N? Where did he go?!"

"H-He caught on, Ari," you looked at the ground, terrified to meet her eyes.

"HOW is that possible, you never--"

You jumped over her words immediately, defensively yelling at her:

"I DON'T KNOW, okay?! He--He came from the bathroom all freaked the fuck out because he had literally never told ANYONE about his dad, and then he-- he accused me of DOING something to him! Like I was a witch or something!" Well, you weren't lying. Not like she could've been able to tell, like she said she didn't have your skills.

"He wouldn't let me say ANYTHING. He just grabbed his check and stormed out of here! I didn't have TIME to work him over, okay? I'm sorry. I failed you," The tears around your eyes now dripped down your cheeks, little did Ari know they weren't for her.

"Aw...honey," Arianna's anger vanished, you knew she couldn't stand to see you cry. She wrapped her arms around you and coddled you like a mom to a toddler.

"I know, you tried your best. And I know it must've been hard, giving up your abogado like that," she stroked your hair.

"You'd just better pray we find another benefactor, FAST" her strokes turned into her acrylic nails running down your face, mildly aggressively. You looked into her eyes, she knew something had happened. She didn't know what and she would never accuse you, but you knew she knew. She always knew.

"I'm on it," You quickly tried to get away from her. "I promise,"

------

The night wrapped up pretty routinely, and the evening went about the same. The next day, you and Ari were walking up the subway towards Fazzoli's when you saw him-- Rafael was waiting, discreetly. Well, discreetly to him anyway.

"I uh-- You know what I forgot to make change before we left, I'm gonna hit the bodega real quick. I'll meet you inside, okay?" You quickly moved in front of Arianna as you talked, praying to God she hadn't noticed him. Luckily, she was thoroughly engrossed in a game of CANDY CRUSH.

"Mmmkay," She nodded and waved you off, not looking up from her phone.

As soon as she was inside, you walked straight up to Rafael and pulled him around the corner into an alleyway.

"What did I say?!" You hissed.

"Well first of all, this is my favorite restaurant, and I was here first, so you're not gonna 'ban' me from eating here," he stated. "And second, you need to tell me what happened last night,"

"No I don't have to tell you anything," you scoffed.

"But you want to,"

"HOW do you know that? You don't know that," you crossed your arms and rolled your eyes, signaling him to back off.

"Then what was that insane Dr. Jekyl/Mr. Hyde act? One second you're batting your eyes at me and the next you're literally throwing me out! Are you nuts?"

"YES. Yes, I am unhinged and a psychopath, Rafael. Clearly. So you need to--to stay away from me," You huffed and turned to leave, but he grabbed your arm.

"I was right last night, wasn't I? That's why you freaked out,"

"...What are you talking about?" You stopped and turned slowly to face him again.

"You're not the only one who can google," he pulled out his phone and began reading an article he had found.

"...Behavioral scientists are hesitant to teach micro-expression reading to the masses, as it can be used for nefarious purposes,"

Your face fell-- You were right, he WAS too smart for you.

"People with these skills can easily manipulate any sort of information out of anyone, if trained properly," He continued, looking you straight in the eyes.

"I...Um.." Jesus Christ this had never happened to you before-- you literally COULD NOT lie to him.

"YES, okay? Yes, I manipulated you last night, are you happy?" You threw your arms up, starting to walk away again.

"No, I'm not! I wanna know why," He jumped in front of you preventing you from leaving the alley.

"Why? You wanna know-- does it matter?" You tried moving past him, but he wasn't budging.

"YES, it matters! For fuck's sake Y/N you-- you had me thinking-- I..." He trailed off, you saw the pain in his eyes. He had actually started to fall for you, and you had crushed him.

"Because it's what we do, okay?" You sighed. "It's not personal,"

"NOT personal? What 'we' do? What, you and Arianna?" he narrowed his eyes.

"Yeah, but you don't understand ok? We, we lived in our CAR, Rafael. We didn't eat for WEEKS at a time, we started going through garbage like actual rats,"

"And then I found this book, and I studied it, and I just tried it ONCE--Just for a meal," you looked up, trying not to get emotional.

"And Arianna latched on to it. HARD," you looked everywhere but Rafael's eyes.

"She--She grabbed anything she could with information on micro-expressions, she quizzed me, she coached me-- she helped me," Finally, you let yourself look at him.

"So you could help her," he looked at you seriously.

"So I could help US," you argued.

"In six months we had enough money for a nice little studio apartment in the Bronx and a full refrigerator!" you heard yourself defending you and Arianna's life together, but saying it out loud you didn't know how much you believed it yourself anymore.

"...And what exactly do you do," His words made you shift uncomfortably on your heels.

"Y/N....." ," He lowered his voice, emphasizing his seriousness.

"I...we...Arianna picks a target, someone who's in the public eye and has money. and I...sweet talk them," you glared holes into the ground.

"...And then I get something out of them, something they don't want the public to know, that they don't want ANYONE to know," You could literally feel how these people must have felt because this was the last thing that you ever wanted Rafael to know, for anyone to know.

"...And she finds out more information about it and--"

"And shakes them down," He finished your sentence, you could hear the disgust in his mouth.

"Look I'm sorry, okay?" Your voice shook a bit.

"I know you are," He stepped closer to you.

"....Okay? Just like that? You're just gonna believe a professional liar?" you half laughed, rolling your eyes.

"Yeah, because if you really wanted to-- you wouldn't have kicked me out last night," a very small micro smile came across.

"I--Yeah, well um-- I...I couldn't," you bit your lip.

"Which makes me think you don't ever really like doing it at all, do you?" he looked at you with knowing eyes.

You shifted uncomfortably, not willing to verbally agree.

"So why do you let Arianna manipulate YOU?"

"Because she's all I have, Rafael!" You cried.

"She's literally the only person I have. It's been me and her against the world since high school, I can't...I can't just, abandon her! I can't let us starve,"

"You have honest jobs now, do you not?"

"Yeah I know, that's why I was pissed she asked me to do you-- I mean, use you," you bit your lip over your Freudian slip.

"She KNEW I was in love with you, and she just--" you stopped talking, noticing a smirk spreading across his face.

"I'm sorry, what?" He asked you with a shocked expression. You looked at him in confusion, then realized you had just spoken without thinking.

"I--It's a figure of speech. Like, "oh my god I'm so in love with Justin Beiber I could just die","

"...Don't like being compared to the Beebz like that but okay," he chuckled.

"Just...shut up. She knew I LIKED you, and she-- she just-- PERVERTED it," you spit out the words, your anger bubbling up. You knew from the moment he caught you sniffing his glass that you and him had something pure, and she just made it into something dirty, something evil.

"So...what EXACTLY happened, last night Y/N?" He stepped even closer, lowering his voice but his tone was soft not serious.

"I...You...You came in, and--everything was fine. It was just me, and-- and you, and we were--" You waved your hands, trying to be casual about it, but he grabbed them and made you look directly at him.

"...It was real," you whispered.

"And THEN, Arianna started telling me that I needed something out of you," your face went red again. "That-- that she hadn't 'planned' on using you, or me, but when she found out you were the ADA she just-- snapped," you went on again, feeling your anger rise again.

"She thought that she could use my actual feelings for you to get what she wanted, and I played along," you folded your arms, ashamed of yourself. You looked away, but Rafael's hand cupped your chin and turned you back to him.

"...But you didn't,"

"I COULDN'T," you could barely speak, tears choked your throat. Suddenly, feeling very uncomfortable having any kind of kindness being shown to you right now, you once again backed away from Rafael and paced around the alleyway.

"I...you don't get it. Lying is my THING. And--And usually okay maybe I have moral qualms about seducing dudes and exploiting them but I get over it, and I do it anyway!" You shook your hands into the air.

"B-B-But you, with you--your stupid eyes, god dammit those eyes!" you paced faster, shaking your head. Those fucking eyes.

"These eyes?" He pointed to his eyes, a very small smirk on his face.

"This isn't funny, okay? You--You made me betray my BEST friend," you stopped and stared into those eyes.

"With my eyes," he couldn't stop a smile.

"YES! I-I gave you that sappy load of bullshit about us having a 'connection', because I knew that was exactly what you wanted, what you ," you looked away in shame.

"Wow..." Rafael shifted uncomfortably, you did know what you were doing.

"A-And you just, you ate it up! YOU, the most level headed, narcissistic, pessimistic lawyer, you just-- believed me," you almost laughed, the thought was actually unbelievable.

"And you were so happy," you added sadly, feeling the guilt rise in your gut.

"...And I think I started to believe it myself. And then I just...I couldn't--" You walked back up to him, this time taking his face in your hands.

"With everyone else I am a shark, but with you I just felt...helpless," you pressed your forehead to his for a brief moment, an intimate moment to say goodbye.

"So I sent you away. And I told you to stay away!" You literally pushed him away, gesturing out of the alley way.

"Why send me away though?"

"Because Arianna will KNOW now,"

"So? Let her know," he scoffed.

"NO," You stepped back into his face, trying to show him how serious you were.

"She's given up on you, because I told her you figured us out,"

"And she bought that?" he raised an eyebrow.

"Well not figured figured out, just that you knew something wasn't right and we couldn't risk going to prison or something,"

"But if she knows that I just...let you go, she'll start digging on her own," your eyes grew wide with fear for him.

"And she will dig until she finds something. Something other than 'daddy issues'," you rolled your eyes.

"...And you think she'll find something?" he asked.

".... You're really telling me you don't have ANY skeletons in your closet, counselor?" now you raised an eyebrow.

"...I'm not leaving you alone with her," he took your hands again.

"Oh come on, I told you. She's my PERSON, she's not gonna hurt me. I don't need protection from her," you rolled your eyes, the thought of being afraid of Arianna was ridiculous. Kind of.

"That doesn't mean I won't fight for you," he touched your face.

"Raf please--" you pleaded once more.

"Give me your phone," he ordered, and you obliged.

"Wha--Okay..."

He took it and programmed his number into it, then handed it back to you.

"Arianna is NOT the only person you have now," he took your hand and kissed the back of your knuckles, before winking and walking away.

...What just happened?

#rafael barba #rafael barba x you #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba imagine #law and order special victims unit #law and order svu #law and order svu fanfiction #helpless

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petroltogo · 3 years

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@sagaduwyrm said “I've been hoping that the AU would explore Tsuna's relationship with Chikusa and Mukuro, so I'm really excited about this.”

In the beginning I actually planned to focus a lot more on the Kokuyo Gang and Tsuna than I ended up with in the main story. Mostly because their relationship turned into this whole mess of mental fuck-ups, connections and manipulation that would’ve taken a lot of time and background understanding on how mental gifts (especially Mukuro’s) work and with how many other characters ended up getting involved, I just couldn’t devote as much time on disentangling those strands as was needed, so we ended up with Mukuro lurking in the shadows, never really stepping out of it. (Which, tbf, is very Mukuro.)

Anyway, since you’re interested in their dynamic, here’s what else I’ve got so far (which is not a lot I’m afraid, mostly backstory that I discarded for the main fic):

Here’s the thing only Mukuro knows, only Mammon so much as suspects:

Mukuro is born a blade sharp enough to draw blood at the slightest touch. He doesn’t remember a time where he wasn’t, where he was soft and squishy and warm, and so maybe he never was. Maybe he’s always been more weapon than human, maybe that’s what makes it feel so natural.

Mukuro is a powerful mental and so what Vongola Inc. teaches him his how to tear mental barriers down, how to break into minds and shatter them. They build him up because he is young, he is weak and under control and they fool themselves into thinking that won’t ever change.

[But Mukuro is powerful and talented and so very, very greedy and for every mind he enters, every mind he crumbles into dust he takes something with him. Something more dangerous than the guns and tasers his warden carry: Knowledge. Ideas. Concepts. For every prisoner they throw in front of him and tell him to find a name or a place or whatever inconsequential thing Vongola cares about, for every scientist who isn’t wary enough to avoid eye-contact, Mukuro goes in and takes everything he can get his hands on.]

[continues under the cut]

By the time Tsunayoshi stumbles upon him, Mukuro knows how to break human minds, how to twist them into a sick parody of the people they used to be, how to unearth secrets and absorb entire lifetimes in the span of moments. He knows what fear and anger and hatred tastes like, knows torture and biology and how the human body works. Knows he is a monster and that he wants freedom and that the scientists have no intention to ever let him go.

[He doesn’t know what sunshine is. Doesn’t know what comfort can be found in a hug. Doesn’t understand the purpose of tears beyond clearing the eyes of dust particles. Has no concept of what home means.]

Tsunayoshi isn’t wary, isn’t so carefully hidden fear and disdain. Isn’t carefully locked down emotions and raised mental barriers. And Tsunayoshi’s mind is open, so open Mukuro feels the thoughts brush against his own before their eyes even meet, feels the mental presence brush and curl around him like a kitty eager for a scratch [Mukuro has never seen a kitten before and the phantom sensation of soft furr beneath his fingers, a rumbling purr sinks easy and effortless into his consciousness], welcomes him in and Mukuro is so startled he doesn’t think to push forward, to pull back, simply basks in the warm feeling of the sun on his skin.

[Mukuro is raised as a weapon. For good or ill, no one has taught him how to shield himself against another consciousness, how to keep his own sense of self secure amidst the onslaughter of another mind. So he absorbs and adapts and changes with every mind he enters.]

Mukuro doesn’t understand friendship because Tsunayoshi isn’t sure about the details himself. But he understands that Tsunayoshi is warm and that he will destroy anything and anyone who tries to take that away from him. He understands, too, that Tsunayoshi shouldn’t have freed him, that they will discover what he’s done [there’s enough mind readers around here that Mukuro hasn’t killed yet and Tsunayoshi is too open, too soft, too vulnerable to leave behind, but Mukuro can’t take him with him, not when he doesn’t have a safe place yet and Tsunayoshi isn’t afraid of going home] and it falls to Mukuro to ensure he won’t be punished in Mukuro’s place.

For the first time when Mukuro slips into Tsunayoshi’s mind, he pushes. And. [Mukuro has been born a blade, has been sharpened further with every mind he cracks and he has never learned to hold back his strenght, has never learned to control or moderate it because why would he?]

Tsuna’s mind shatters.

[Here’s what Mammon will never reveal, not to Lussuria, not to Xanxus and certainly not to Tsunayoshi: Tsunayoshi’s mind is unfriendly, painful, hard to navigate. Not because it’s protected -- that’s a side effect, not the cause -- but because it was torn apart and then some insane, powerful, desperate mental tried to glue the pieces back together. There’s no point to it. The damage is years old and against all odds, against all reason Tsunayoshi is functioning, fully capable of rational thought, of making decisions and memorizing information. There’s no point because Mammon is powerful but even they couldn’t replicate this feat because it doesn’t just hinge on power. It hinges on blind faith, on an unfailing conviction of I will it and so shall it be that isn’t found in grown people well aware of their own strengths and limits. It hinges on breaking yourself apart to fill the holes you’ve torn in with your own spare parts only human minds don’t come with spare parts.]

Mukuro -- can’t accept that. Refuses to. So he dives deeper and does what he’s never done before, never cared to, never wanted: he puts a mind back together, sews the layers back together with a care he didn’t know he was capable of, smoothes over the rough edges, soothes the torn and bruised parts and because Tsunayoshi is hurt because it’s his fault and Mukuro has never felt guilt before and Tsunayoshi is even more vulnerable right now until he heals [he will heal] Mukuro leaves him with the best protection he can give, the only one he trusts to look after Tsunayoshi to the best of its ability: himself.

Fast forward roughly 16 years:

“Hello Tsuna-kun,” Mukuro greets the young man who’s sitting crossed-legged on the dirty, dust-covered floor. It’s dark and cramped in the tunnel and he has to squint into the darkness for a few seconds before he can make out what used to be a pathway to the main layers, blocked by bolders, rocks and debris.

“Hello Mukuro,” two voices answer in perfect unison.

[Next to Tsunayoshi stands a young boy, about seven years old, with one bright blue and one glowing red eye. “Huh,” Mukuro says. “I thought we were taller.”]

#ReRe writes #this could've been a villain's origin story 'verse #flip a coin verse #Rokudou Mukuro #Sawada Tsunayoshi #Mukuro's backstory #exploration of the connection between Mukuro and Tsuna #Tsuna & Mukuro #sagaduwyrm #ReRe answers #headcanon

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sherrybaby14 · 4 years

Text

Welcome Home

Summary: You couldn’t take your controlling boyfriend, so you ran away. He found you and hopes to change your mind, with the help of some friends.

Warnings: Smut, lost and found, very brief suicidal thought, I would not label this dub-con, but some might. (I have not warned for every possible trigger. Please read at your own risk).

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

Words: 4200

A/N: This is for @darkficsyouneveraskedfor challenge! My prompt was “Safe in Hell”.

“There’s a real hottie in your section.” Your coworker reached above you for the coffee pot. “If he asks for your number you should give it to him.”

Your nerves went off. Was this the day? Did he find you? You shook them down, trying to act normal.

“Right.” You were trying to balance the tray of drinks for the rare family of four who walked into the diner. “Because I give it out to all the other truckers who stop in here.”

“Other truckers?” She laughed. “You won’t even give it to me! When are we going to get together for after work drinks?”

Another thing to worry about, people getting too chummy. A sign to leave.

“Soon.” You gave a nervous laugh as you rounded, hoisting the orange juices in the air as you went back into the crowded eating area.

Soon you would be gone. Never stay in a place for longer than three months, never use your real name, cash under the table, save whatever possible. No relationships, no attachments. That was the advice handed to you. It worked well the last eighteen months. Were you getting sloppy? Was the strange man finally him? The tray wobbled, thinking about dropping it and running out the backdoor.

It wasn’t the life you had planned for yourself, but you were more free in your time on the road than you had been the two years before.

You spotted the “hottie” your friend talked about. His back was to you, short dark hair, smaller shoulders, shorter. Any sense of worry you had faded. Wasn’t him.

A lot of the men who stopped in here were good looking. Ninety percent of them drove trucks back and forth across the country. They would forget your face as soon as they left, stomachs filled with greasy food and an insane amount of coffee. He was just another. It was the blondes that worried you.

Nobody questioned your secrecy until just now, most were in the same boat. Part of you was sure one of the cooks was wanted for murder. Your co-workers last names were Smith, Johnson, Washington, Jefferson. A lot of presidents. Made it hard to google Sarah Adams and get any pointed results.

“There we go.” You handed out the orange juice to the road-tripping family. “Gimme a minute and I’ll be back to take your order.”

Your coworker walked by, coffee pot in hand. You handed her the tray and took the hot beverage without even asking. The solo man’s cup was spun upright and you began to fill it when you approached the table.

“Room for cream?” You watched the dark liquid rise.

“I’d prefer a double whipped non-fat late, but I suppose cream will do.” The voice struck a nerve in your cord and you dropped the coffee pot.

Everything was moving in slow motion. You swore you saw the liquid following out, but the guest grabbed the pot in one hand while reaching out with his other and grabbing your wrist.

“Hi there.” He smiled up at you. “Have a seat.”

You were too numb to respond as he dragged your arm, pulling you into the booth behind him. You started to hyperventilate, the noise of the crowd fading as your world started to spin. How was this happening? Was this real?

“Don’t forget to breathe.” Tony let go of your wrist and took a sip of his coffee. “Not bad.”

You couldn’t react. You didn’t know how to.

“Really, I thought this was going to taste like dirt, but there’s something so basic about it, I can’t put my finger on it.” The billionaire took another sip. “Did you make it?”

You grabbed on to the table, a shake in your body as you looked up. Tony’s warm eyes had a hint of sympathy, but he smiled and it vanished. Had you lost your mind?

“Don’t have a lot of time so speak up Princess.” Tony flicked your arm.

A million questions ran through your head, but you spit out the first one. Your main fear.

“Is he….here?” There was a lump in your throat, could you outrun Ironman? Were you insane?

“Don’t ask questions you won’t like the answer to.” Tony’s eyes dropped to the table as he grabbed a packet of sugar.

Escape. You had to escape. All the ways out you had planned in your head didn’t involve a visit from Tony Stark. How was that even possible? They were the good guys. Maybe they didn’t know? Maybe you could reason with his friend, get them to see. Put an end to this madness, get your life back.

“Listen to me.” You grabbed Tony’s hand, not wanting to understand how you were capable of touching him. “He is insane. He is controlling and demanding and you need to help me.”

“I know.” Tony nodded. “Trust me, I know.”

Your shoulders relaxed. Tony knew he was insane.

“When you were in his life, you made him better.” Tony laughed. “SInce you’ve been gone. Well, everyone else has had to deal with that side.”

You recoiled.

“He has saved a lot of lives. He’s a good man.” Tony let out a huge breath.

“HE RUINED MY LIFE!” You slammed the table. “He...he picked out my clothes, he made me quit my job, he nit picked everything I did, he followed me everywhere, he destroyed my friendships, he controlled everything.”

“Did he ever hit you?” Tony ran his hand over his hair.

“What?” You glanced over his face.

“Did he tell you what you could and couldn’t do?” Tony leaned back in the booth. “What was he holding over you? That you couldn’t leave? That you ran away in the middle of the night?”

“I tried to break up with him.” Your lip quivered. “But he sabotaged everything, every job application, apartment, bills. He forced it so he was my only option.”

That was how Steve operated. He didn’t give ultimatums, he didn’t hit you. He just twisted your life so you were dependent on him. A master of emotional manipulation.

“Well, when he had you to look after.” Tony reached down next to him and pulled out some electronic device. “He wasn’t so difficult to deal with, but since you left of your own free will, he has been a bit of a horror.”

“Own free will?” You were seething. “I tried to leave at least ten times! He always found a way to make me come back. We were only together for a year, I realized he was tricking me, messing with my mind. I called it off then, it took me another year of forgiving and coming back before I had to vanish.”

“Vanish?” Tony raised an eyebrow. “Hardly.”

He tapped a button on his device. This place barely got cell service but a screen seemed to appear out of nowhere. Your jaw dropped as you scanned what was in front of you. Pictures, notes, dollar amounts. Every place you’d been the last eighteen months.

“I...I need to get back to work.” You started to stand, planning to sprint out the back and run until you died.

Tony let out a whistle. All noise in the diner stopped. The people got up from their seats, the staff stopped in place. All of them left the building in a neat and practiced order.

“Sit back down.” Tony slid the screen over, but didn’t close it. “Don’t make this difficult.”

“I am leaving.” Your chest was heavy. “You can’t stop me.”

“No, but I can call the police.” Tony scratched his head. “They will be here faster than you can get outside, ready with a pair of handcuffs.”

“I didn’t do anything.” Your legs started to shake.

“In the last year and a half you have committed a staggering amount of crimes.” Tony hit his screen and they changed. “Identity theft, tax evasion, moving stolen property over state lines, not to mention the civil liabilities from the landlords you ran out on.”

“Bullshit!” You hit the table. “I used fake names, I worked under the table, I was trying to hide.”

“Well, there’s an admission to the tax evasion.” Tony crossed his arms and leaned back. “My personal attorneys have studied this and found every little thing you have done wrong. It’s all here. Those fake names, turns out some real people have them.”

You knew how powerful the Avengers were, but you thought the only evil one was Steve. Besides, there was the one other nagging thought.

“How?” Your mind was so focused on Steve, you couldn’t focus on anything else.

“With a good federal prosecutor and several amazing state’s attorneys, you will be bouncing from prison-to-prison for the rest of your life. Would you like to have a seat now?” Tony’s sympathy vanished.

Yes. You thought about life in prison. Could you handle it? Take it? Would it be better than this?

“I promise you it would not.” Tony glared up at you. “Now sit.”

You crumbled back into the booth.

“What does he want?” You knew Tony was just the middle man. “Were any of the people here ever real? Were you just waiting until you had enough on me?”

“Of course we were.” Tony rolled his eyes. “Steve found you a day after you left. He has been trailing you nonstop. I saw the bigger picture. He’d convince you to come back and you would run again. We tempted you with some major crimes by the way, kudos to you for not robbing that guy in Portland. Those were marked bills. Would’ve had you ten months ago.”

“I’m going to be sick.” You leaned over and clutched your stomach, all the precautions you’d been taking, your life. It meant nothing.

“Here’s what he wants.” Tony slammed a little black box on the table. “Not the most romantic proposal, but you know Steve. He doesn’t want any of the dirty stuff on his hands.”

“Oh God.” You clutched your stomach, trying to ignore the sound of Tony opening the box.

“He loves you.” Tony reached over the table and set it on your knee. “He will take care of you. Your life will be better than this.”

“He’s obsessed with me.” You glared at him. “That’s not love!”

“Sure it is.” There was no humor on Tony’s face. “Maybe not your definition. But to him, it’s love.”

“He...he could have anyone, why me?” Your reality began to set in and tears started to fall.

“If I had to guess, your mind.”

“I’m not a genius.” You looked up at him with red shot eyes. “I thought I was free and he, he never left me.”

You thought back to all the good looking single guys in here asking for your number, the way your coworkers were in the same boat as you. It wasn’t dumb luck. It was a controlled experiment.

“You need to ask him these questions.” Tony’s sympathy showed again. “He is waiting for your answer. Take a look at the ring. Put it on your finger, or else except some less-than-pleasant jewelry on your wrists.”

The sound of Tony’s footsteps and the ding of the diner bell made you sob. There was no doubt the building was surrounded. You had a third option, but that wasn’t in the cards for you.

Your life with Steve flashed in your brain. The way he looked at you, the way he sent a tingle down your spine, the way he got you to try new things, and when you didn’t like them he would stop. He was kind, to you, but any life outside of him, that’s when he showed his true colors.

Without opening your eyes you knew what the ring would look like. Large and heavy, a single giant stone that people could see from yards away. Ownership. That was Steve.

Which prison did you want?

You gulped down, and looked at the box. Your heart raced as you brought your hand to your mouth. It was small. It was ugly even, a single pear cut diamond in a bronze band, but your heart filled with warmth.

Different memories came forward, pretending to be a bride with a pillowcase, talking with your father about walking down the aisle, watching your mother cheers at your graduation. The ring on her finger.

“How?” Your parents were dead, a tragic accident, nothing was recovered. It happened a year before you met Steve.

The initial wave of comfort he had brought came over you again. The way he listened, tried to help you.

“Photos.” Nat’s voice made you jerk your head up. “He had it recreated down to exact specifics.”

“It's not hers?” Your heart didn’t sink at the realization, in fact it panged with comfort.

“He’s not a miracle worker.” Nat slid into the booth. “But he tries.”

The strangeness of the last five minutes dawned on you again. You wouldn’t go back, you slammed the ring box shut.

“Please, we were friends. Get Steve to let me go.” You bit back a sob. “Women-to-women, you saw how bad it got and…”

“I saw a devoted man, who might not have chosen a woman who understood all his traits, but awoke something in him.” Nat leaned forward. “He wants you. Only you. I sent a few incredibly good looking guys to hit on you, and you shut them all down. Are you sure you want anyone else?”

“I didn’t...I couldn’t...settle down.” You took a heavy breath. “He could find me if I built a life. I needed to keep moving.”

“He’s always known where you were.” Nat smiled. “Now make the right choice. He’s waiting.”

“Wait, help me?” You looked up at her with glassy eyes as she left the booth.

“I already have.” The sadness on her face was too much, you started to cry again. “We both have.”

You didn’t take your eyes off of her as she left the diner. The door moved in slow motion, slammed shut.

You tried to bite back the scream, but it came out. The vision faded, the diner was filled again. Ghosts vanished.

The tray of orange juice hit the ground with a smash and a spill. Everyone in the diner turned to stare at you. Including the “hottie” your coworker warned you about.

Tall, blonde, beautiful, controlling, manipulative, but also protective, caring, pushing, and instead of crying and running away you burst out into tears and ran toward him. Not registering that everyone in the diner was watching.

“I...I missed you so much.” Steve scooped you up in his arms. “I was wrong. I was wrong on so many levels, after we lost Tony and Natasha, I couldn’t lose you. And I shouldn’t have tried to keep you the way I did.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss. Warmth, home, everything negative flushed away.

“Hey, you gonna clean this up?” Your coworker held the coffee pot, looking pissed off.

You looked back at Steve, who was just as stunned from the kiss as the rest of the restaurant was from the sound of you dropping your tray.

“I’ll change. I miss you so much.” Steve wrapped his arms around your waist. “I’ve been changing. Working on myself. I can’t believe I pushed you that hard. I wanted to keep you safe.”

“I’m safe when I am with you.” There was a fullness in your heart, one you didn’t realize you were missing. “I didn’t do anything bad.”

“What?” Steve laughed. “You? This was not the conversation I was expecting. The night you left, I just, I realized my trying to protect you was overriding everything else. My trauma was creating trauma for you. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you, if you let me.”

“Please?” You didn’t wait for a response when you put your lips to his.

Steve let out a grunt and held you tighter, your bodies pressed together as hard as they could be, your mouth devouring each other in the middle of the restaurant.

He pulled away first, slowing down the kiss until he could press his forehead to yours.

“Let’s get out of here.” His gaze made your heart feel like it was going to beat out of your chest.

You nodded and undid the tie on your apron, throwing it on the table along with the orders and cash you’d received on your shift so far.

Everyone’s eyes were on you as Steve took your hand and led you out of the place. Nobody spoke a word. It was like they weren’t even there.

Steve walked you to the side of a pick up truck. He opened the door and boosted you inside.

“You don’t understand how unprepared I was for this.” Steve grinned as he buckled your seatbelt. “I was ready to plead and beg, we were meant for each other.”

As the belt clicked you grabbed his cheeks and kissed him again, moaning into his mouth. The time apart now felt like a wasted lifetime. This was right. He was right. Why did it take unearthly visitors to show you what was in front of your face the whole time.

“We have to stop, or I won’t be able to control myself.” Steve wiped his lips as he backed away, slamming the door shut.

He rounded the front of the truck and climbed in the driver’s seat. Buckling in and turning over the engine he whipped out of the parking lot. You wasted no time sliding your hand up his thigh.

“I missed you. God, I missed you.” He gripped the wheel. “I can’t believe I let you get away.”

“Well I’m back now.” You let your hand climb father up his jeans, cupping the bulge of his pants. “And I’m never leaving again.”

You glanced at him, his eyes were fixed on the deserted road. You went for the button on his pants.

“What are you doing?” Steve looked to you with concern.

“I can’t wait any longer.” You yanked down the zipper and pulled his cock out. “I need you, as much of you as I can get.”

Steve let out a moan, approving. You dropped your head and wrapped your lips around his cock. Trying to drool as much as possible, wanting to take him deep.

He shifted, and moved as close to you as possible without stopping. His hand found the skirt of your waitress uniform and pushed it up. He cupped your pussy, making you squeak with the realization of how wet you were, rubbing down hard.

“I guess you did miss me.” He dragged his fingers up and over the top of your panties.

You lifted your hips and pulled them down, trying to concentrate on getting his dick as wet as possible, but eager for your own pleasure too.

“I love you.” His finger found your slit and gathered your juices. “I’ll love you forever.”

Your eyes popped open as he slid a digit inside you with ease. You turned your body so that you were able to press your clit to the base of his palm as he flexed his finger inside of you.

A moan left your mouth and his cock slid deeper.

“You are my forever. I need you. I was a wreck without you.” Steve grunted and his cock slid further into your mouth. “I’ll never let you leave. Never again. I can’t...I can’t be without you.”

You flicked your tongue and sucked harder, sliding down. His knee popped up to touch the steering wheel and his other hand found the back of your head.

“You’re like no other.” He guided you further, his fingers working you into a frenzy as you humped against him, your clit coming to life. “The only soul in existence who fits with mine.”

His words made your heart flutter, but his hands were bringing you closer to the edge.

“And you lied. You did do something bad.” Steve groaned. “You left. I never gave up. I gave you your space, but that’s over. You’re my home.”

You tried to nod as best you could, but you were more interested in controlling your gag reflex. Your body was on fire, nipples tightening, hot and cold alternated all over you. Why did you ever leave him? None of that mattered now.

“Now, be a good girl.” Steve slid another finger inside and began working faster, sliding in and out, flexing against your inside while his palm ground into your clit. “Show me how much you missed me.”

Your body knew what he wanted before you mind caught up and you started to convulse around his hand. Shots of pleasure firing off your entire being. You fell forward, his cock hitting the back of your throat, but the orgasm made you unaware of anything but ecstasy.

His hands vanished and you moved your mouth back, still unsteady from your release. You needed to return the favor, but before you could get to work two hands were on your shoulders, pushing you up to sitting.

You looked out the window and saw you were pulled over on the side of the road in broad daylight. Steve went between your legs and yanked your panties off.

“I need to have all of you.” He grabbed your thigh and guided you to his lap.

You nodded, straddling him as he guided his cock to your entrance.

“Mmm.” You bit your lip as he stretched your quaking pussy. “I missed you. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I never should have left.”

“Shhh.” Steve pulled you down as he flexed up. The burn it caused was beautiful. “Our future is forever. Welcome home.”

You winced when you took him to the hilt. Home. That was the feeling in your heart.

Tears stung at the corner of your eyes as you dropped your head, Steve grabbed your cheek and guided your lips to his. His other hand dug into your hip and guided your body as he fucked you.

You need him to take the lead, incapable of knowing what to do without his skill. His tongue worked yours while his cock brought your pussy to life, rocking you while he slid in and out, short fast movements.

“Oh God.” You broke the kiss, unable to concentrate on it as he picked up the pace.

Steve pulled you against him, his mouth finding your neck, he bit and teased at the skin as you turned into a mewling shaking mess.

“You’re ready to cum.” Steve nipped at your skin.

“No.” You weren’t close, it was the after effects of the first one.

“Yes.” Steve’s hands ran up your back and pulled your down harder. “Don’t fight it. Don’t fight me. Give over.”

“I’m…” You didn’t understand your own body.

“Cum, cum for me.” Steve tugged you down with so much strength you gasped. “NOW!”

Your body responded. The orgasm ripping through you out of what felt like nowhere. The tears flowed as an inhuman noise left your body. You were nothing, just a ball of pleasure, pure euphoria.

Steve growled and joined you in finishing, coating your insides with his white foam. You collapsed against him, wishing the clothes were gone.

Consciousness was sneaking away, your eyes drifting shut. Before you slipped into sleep you swore you saw Tony and Nat, both smiling at you. You were home.

“Hey.” Steve was shaking your shoulder.

“Huh?” Your eyes opened to see a dark sky.

“We have to stop for the night.” He lifted you out of the truck. “You’ve been sleeping all day, but now I need some rest.”

“Sorry.” You wrapped your arms around his neck as he cradled you to his chest.

“Something tells me you haven’t slept that well in a long time.” Steve kissed your forehead as he carried you into the motel room. “You needed it.”

“I needed you.” You smiled as he set you down on the bed.

“Always.” Steve tossed a large bag he’d been carrying onto the floor. “I’m going to take a quick shower. You want to join me?”

“No.” You turned on your side and cuddle the pillow. “Too tired.”

“Alright.” He laughed. “I’ll be right out.”

Steve kissed your forehead again before going into the bathroom. The second he was gone your eyes popped open. You ran for the bag, unzipping it.

It didn’t take long for you to find two things. One was a Manila folder. You opened it and saw everything Tony had shown you, just the old fashioned paper way. Then you saw the little black box. The ring on the inside was the one Nat forced you to look at.

“Thank you.” You looked up at the ceiling, hoping they could hear you.

Steve was going to have you either way, but at least your visitors let you do it on your own terms. You closed up the bag and stood up from the floor.

You glanced to the exit, seeing the keys to the truck sitting there. Instead you smiled, and went to the bathroom, stripping off your clothes in the process. You were home.

#steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #fanfic #marvel #marvel fanfic #fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #avengers fanfic

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danjo-ao3 · 3 years

Text

When Ashes Fall p.5

Pairing: Reaper/female Reader

Summary: You are a combat medic working for Overwatch, when a mission goes south and you cross paths with Talon mercenary Reaper. But will he kill you on the spot or is there more to this encounter?

Rating: 18+

Tags/Warnings: rape/non-con, violence, blood, emotional manipulation, blackmail, kidnapping

Word count: 52,215 (in 5 parts)

A/N: the warnings are clear on this one. Yes, there is going to be rape/non-con, and it’s going to get explicit. I strongly advise anyone who is not into that kind of story to turn back around, because this is going to get pretty heavy and will finally be the non-con story with Reaper that I had always wanted to write.

Part 5 / 5 (part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4)

***

“Ah!”

Your feeble cry ended in a long drawn-out moan. Sometime after Reaper had started to rock into you again, he was beginning to caress you everywhere he could. It was as if he had needed to fuck you hard and fast to get it out of his system, and now he had all the time in the world to actually pay attention.

At least that’s what it felt like to you.

He was getting you to that level of arousal again that had you sweating and moaning uncontrollably. When he was not kissing or licking you somewhere, he murmured Spanish words against your skin.

You didn’t like where this was going any more than what had happened a few moments ago.

It all felt too real, too emotional. Your nerves were raw, the edges frayed and vulnerable.

When he pressed forward it was with an unhurried roll of his hips that hit you differently now, he stared at your face with half lidded eyes, red orbs drawn to the shape of your mouth. Whenever he did something you reacted to with a moan or a bite to your lips, he seemed to take mental note of it. And then he did it again. And again, until you were a whimpering, shuddering mess.

Now that your body had had some time to adjust to his size, it was a lot more comfortable. Pleasurable even.

It really felt incredible.

And you hated him so much for it.

This wasn’t supposed to feel good at all, he was still fucking raping you. And here you were, moaning around his cock like a whore. What the hell was wrong with you?

Don’t be so hard on yourself, a small voice chided you.

You weren’t exactly sure which was worse; the way he had simply taken what he wanted from you, or the way he was obviously trying to get you to enjoy your own abuse.

All of it was fucking with your head.

And it felt like he’d been at it for hours now. He was obviously trying to get you to come on his dick this time, then why was he drawing it out like this?

It was too hot in your room, the friction between you two was stifling, Reaper himself was practically burning your skin where he was touching you, waves of heat radiated off of him, at the same time that black mist was swirling around and was soothingly cool where it kissed your sweaty body.

You moaned in both agony and pleasure, although the latter was definitely outshining anything else you felt at the moment. It was building again, another approaching orgasm promising sweet release.

It was obvious that Reaper was holding himself back, he was working you up and determined to get you off this time. So there was no getting out of this without you reaching that peak.

Another plethora of foreign words whispered against your ear sent shivers all over your body, your legs shook where they lay spread around his hips, the muscles no longer able to function properly. Your mind was slowly starting to drift amidst the heat and how your head swayed with his thrusts.

“—ine, mariquita.”

His last words made your ears perk up, while you’d started to zone out he had partially shifted back to English. But you’d only caught the end of the sentence.

You wanted to ask what he’d said but just as you opened your mouth to speak he hit you at that angle that had you moan in abandon.

His teeth grazed against your jaw, and your heart jumped into your throat at the feeling.

“Mine,” he repeated, and in the darkness his red eyes flashed where they stared into yours. The expression on his face was overwhelming. Ecstasy and pleasure was written all over it, but underneath was that always present otherworldly demonic quality that was so terrifying it left you speechless.

A full bodied sob shook you as he leaned even closer and hissed “You’re mine.” There was nothing remotely human in the way he sounded, you couldn’t describe how his voice grated over your senses, how it rattled you to the core and took away the very last remnants of hope that you’d dared to hold on to.

Now that he had found the angle that had you wailing in pleasure, he was hitting that spot mercilessly. All you could do was try to keep breathing through it, you were no longer able to stop making sounds.

He was hitting you just right, but not fast enough to send you over the edge.

Your voice was giving out at one point, screeching and hoarse moans was all that came forth now. Eyes screwed shut in exhaustion and concentration, you balled your hands into fists above where he was still holding them down onto the mattress.

You couldn’t take this anymore.

“Please,” you whispered hoarsely, eyes wet and stinging.

And by some strange kind of miracle Reaper actually listened. Gradually, he sped up. It only took a few more long strokes of his cock for you to reach your release with a long broken whimper.

When you zoned back in, you felt how he came inside you one more time, accompanied by a low growl that he released into the darkness of your room.

For a long time nothing happened, Reaper was still between your legs, his hands around your wrists and you two were just breathing hard. You couldn’t bring yourself to open your eyes, you were too tired of having to see him. Of that smug look of satisfaction on his stupid, handsome demon face.

Finally, he released your arms, pulled back and slowly slid out of you. His seed was running down between your thighs and into your sheets, it made you want to die.

Please just leave, you thought desperately. You just wanted to be left alone already, to pretend none of this ever happened. To erase his touch from your body with the hottest water your pathetic little shower could provide.

Reaper got off the bed and it felt like a weight was lifted off your shoulders, like you could breathe again. Instinctively, you turned to the side and into a fetal position, your body trembling as you hugged yourself.

But you didn’t hear him leave at all, he seemed to be going into your bathroom instead.

He returned to the bed shortly, the mattress dipped underneath his weight and soon his heat settled next to you again. Your skin crawled in revulsion as he brought a cool, damp cloth against the wound on your neck.

How considerate. You wanted to punch him so badly.

“Don’t,” you rasped quietly, defiance and anger scratching at the surface of your repressed emotions.

He said nothing, but removed the cloth and pressed his body against your backside instead, effectively spooning you with his strong, ashen arms around your middle.

Hot tears were burning your eyes once more. When would this torment end, why couldn’t he leave you alone already? You wanted to put your clothes back on, get a barrier between yourself and him, anything.

Another very long moment went by before he spoke up.

“I wasn’t always like this, you know.”

You were stunned into silence once more.

What?

Goodness, was he going to tell you his life story now?

You didn’t respond, not wanting to encourage him to stay longer than necessary. You didn’t care for his vulnerable-side-act at all.

But he went on, unbothered by your silence.

“I haven’t felt anything in… years.” His voice ghosted over your shoulder between small kisses. “Not since you touched me. There is something in that blood of yours that makes me–” he stopped and searched for the right words, his fingers squeezing your hip. “–it drives me insane.” A dark chuckle that caused goosebumps to rise along your arms. “More than usual.”

Fuck, you didn’t want to hear any of this, his fucked up excuse for raping you.

“How nice for you.”

“Don’t be like that mariquita.” How dare he sound so nonchalant and amused at this. “I’m sorry about your neck,” he murmured and pressed a soft kiss to the wound. It stung and you winced, trying to pull away from Reaper’s embrace. He held on tightly, nosing into your neck further, inhaling your scent. “I won’t bite you next time,” he promised with his teeth bared in a grin and your heart came to a stop.

Next time?

He had just confirmed your worst fear. Your head spun around to stare at him in shock. But his smirk spoke volumes.

“No,” you whispered feebly, head shaking in denial.

Reaper chuckled darkly, one hand holding your face in a deceivingly soft touch.

“I don’t think you listened to me,” his face fell a little. “I need this, I need to feel this.” An edge of madness had crept into his eyes, into the way he spoke those words through his teeth, and how the previously gentle hold of his hands turned into unforgiving grips of desperation.

You whined. No, no, no… not again, never again. When a tear escaped your wide, fearful eyes, it seemed to startle Reaper out of his current headspace. His fingers relaxed again, his thumb even wiped away the moisture from your cheek.

His face had gone back to his usual expression of disinterest and general broodiness.

“You are mine,” he said, a finality to his tone that stood at odds with the soft caresses he made to your face and sides. When you didn’t answer him–because, what were you supposed to say to that?–he turned you around to face him fully and pulled you closely.

At this point, there was no fight left in you, he was able to manipulate your body however he saw fit. His right hand resumed his spot on the side of your face, angling it up so you had to look him in the eyes while he was pressed against you again.

The two of you were just staring at each other, Reaper with satisfaction, and you with silent resignation.

When he pulled you towards him you managed to whisper “I hate you,” before he closed the distance and kissed you.

***

The days were blending together while you were holed up alone in your room. A simple sick note to the lab excused your absence, explaining in a few words that you would not be present for a couple of days.

Surprisingly, Casey came to visit you on the third day. She had brought chicken soup and encouraging words. You’d noticed how she hadn’t taken a single step inside, even though you’d offered her a seat.

A turtleneck sweater was hiding the marks on your throat from view, even though they had begun to fade already thanks to your accelerated healing. Still, you were paranoid that they were visible and you absolutely did not want to have that conversation with anyone.

A knock at your door startled you from where you sat on your armchair eating the lukewarm soup that tasted like watered down broth, even though your stomach was thankful for the sustenance, you hadn’t eaten since you’d called in sick. Thinking it was Casey again, you didn’t bother to look through the door’s peephole and opened it.

Ogundimu was standing on the other side, white elegantly cut suit and gold frame sunglasses accentuating his expensive taste in clothes. With a small smile he greeted you and boldly stepped inside, almost knocking you out of his way had you not made room for him.

You watched him as he looked around, assessing your living conditions. Just now you realized that your room was pretty messy. Clothes were lying on the ground, the bed was still unmade from three nights ago. You were sleeping in your armchair now, you couldn’t even look at the bed for longer than a second.

Ogundimu looked out of place in your small shabby room, he did not belong here at all.

“Did you need something?” You asked after a few seconds, already annoyed at his presence.

“Actually,” he said and turned around to you, taking off his glasses in the process, “I wanted to see if there was something you needed.” His eyes roamed over your front, no doubt judging your choice of clothes and messy hair.

Self-consciously, you rubbed at your arm.

“I’m good,” you lied.

“Excellent, because I need you in fighting condition in two days.”

You just gawked at him. Was he talking about another mission? Another mission… with Reaper? Cold dread settled in your stomach.

“I–I don’t know if I…” you stammered and averted your eyes to the floor.

You heard Ogundimu take a few steps towards you.

“I almost forgot,” he murmured and held out a chip towards you. Confused, you looked up at him again. “Here’s the pin code for that bank account we spoke about.”

You knew there must have been various emotions flitting across your face right then from the way Ogundimu was studying you. Shock, denial, sadness, and anger made you ball your hands into fists.

After a deep breath to calm you down you answered him.

“I don’t want your money.”

His eyes squinted, first in suspicion, but then his mouth split in a small grin.

“The mission brief is tomorrow at 0700 sharp,” Ogundimu changed the subject and laid the chip down on your coffee table, put his shades back on and was moving to your door again. “Don’t be late,” he said before he left.

Three days. It had only been three days since you’d last seen Reaper. It was too soon, you couldn’t deal with him again. Not yet, not ever again really. With a big sigh you sunk into your armchair, the cold soup’s smell nauseating. Your eyes fell onto the small chip lying so offendingly on the table. With a grunt you grabbed it and stuffed it into your pants pocket so you didn’t have to see it anymore.

***

You woke in a cold sweat on your chair, another nightmare had woken you early. The bedside table clock read a few minutes after six in the morning. A shaking clammy hand wiped at your face when you sat up.

Ouch, your back was hurting so much from the awkward position you’d slept in. One arm had fallen asleep and was now tingling unpleasantly. You were still tired, so unbelievably tired. It was becoming increasingly difficult to sleep at all at night, you never knew if Reaper would simply appear out of thin air when you weren’t looking. And when you actually managed to drift off it was to night terrors of a very specific kind, with whispered words about pleasure and pain, making you relive that night in vivid detail.

“Fucking hell,” you sighed heavily and pushed off from the chair to drag yourself into the bathroom. Today was the stupid brief for some stupid mission, so you had to look presentable, you guessed. You’d really slacked off these past few days, but you didn’t care what anyone thought.

A quick shower and brushed teeth had you feel a little better at least, although donning the informal Talon uniform jacket with the embroidered insignia made your stomach turn. That, and probably the fact that you’d only eaten one bowl of soup these past four days. Before you would go to that meeting you’d grab something to eat in the cafeteria.

On your way there you met Dr. O’Deorain who sipped coffee from a porcelain cup.

She called your name and waited until you approached her.

“Seeing you here, up and about, I’m guessing you’ll be working at the lab today?” Her voice was stern, as was her face. She was probably annoyed that you’d been absent for so long.

As you were contemplating what to say, you figured that now she had seen you it was hard to pretend to be sick anymore.

“Uh, yeah. I guess I will.”

“Good. There’s a lot to be done,” she answered, then took a swig from her cup. “Also, I made some adjustments to your glove. We will do some testing later.” With that off her chest she just turned and left, not bothering to wait for your answer.

After you managed to chew on a sandwich for a few minutes you made your way to the briefing room, cup of coffee still in hand. There were only a few other agents seated around the big table in the middle, talking amongst themselves. Again you chose a seat far in the back, keeping to yourself and sipping from your paper cup sporadically.

Just a few seconds later Ogundimu entered the room. All eyes were on him as he took his place at the head of the table.

He stood tall and imposing, his fingertips grazed the tabletop. “Good morning,” he said, his eyes making the round. “On your screens are the coordinates for our latest mission to Numbani.”

In front of you, a holo screen popped up. An orange map was showing a pulsing spot right over Numbani, in the top left corner a photo of a girl, smiling at the camera, underneath her name: Efi Rotìmí Opèyèmi Oluwadaré Gabrielle Oladele.

Another assassination target. You felt nauseous again. Cold sweat broke out on your skin. They wanted to kill a child. What the hell were you still doing here?

While Ogundimu went on about specifics for their approach you zoned out.

Why were you even surprised at this point? They killed people all the time after all, lots of them. They apparently had no qualms about forced prostitution either, so why had you assumed they’d draw the line at child murder?

You couldn’t look away from her happy face, her carefree countenance was so at odds with this sinister plan to kill her it made bile rise in your throat.

The door banging open all of a sudden startled you so much you thought your heart was jumping out of your chest.

At the entrance stood Reaper in his usual attire, mask and claws in place. You sunk back into your chair, you hadn’t been prepared to see him again so soon.

Reaper was still as a statue, he looked around the room once before his gaze stopped on you for a second. Your breath caught as you were staring back at him, he was the most terrifying in that mask.

The claws on his hands tightened into fists once, before his mask was turned to Ogundimu, whom he had interrupted mid sentence.

“What is this?” Reaper asked, anger dripping from his gravelly voice.

“Gabriel, can I help you?” Ogundimu offered with a smile. He pulled away from the table and gestured to the screen behind him. “We are in the middle of a briefing.”

“I can see that, Akande.” He really sounded pissed now, and for once it was nice to not have that anger directed at you. He stepped inside and towards Ogundimu before continuing a little quieter. “What I’m asking is why I haven’t been informed of this mission.”

Huh, that was interesting.

Ogundimu smiled a placating smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Before he gave Reaper an answer he walked to the door and then turned to the agents who were deathly silent in the face of Reaper’s anger.

“I believe we managed to cover all the important parts, I’ll forward all the details to your communicators, you’re dismissed.”

You’ve never seen anyone leave this fast from a mission brief and you mentally rolled your eyes at their fear. If they thought Reaper was scary now they should see him with blood on his lips and a crazed smile.

Oh, your mind was wandering into dangerous territory, you shook your head and got up from your seat last, creeping along the side of the table and toward Ogundimu who held the door open for everyone.

“Not you,” Ogundimu said and put his cybernetic arm between you and the exit.

Shit, you mentally cursed and cast wary eyes up to him.

“Go and sit down.” He gestured stony faced to the seat closest to him. You did so reluctantly, anxiety skyrocketing. When you had sat down you opted to watch your own hands where they fiddled with the material of your pants underneath the table. Why did he want you to be present?

Ogundimu closed the door gently before moving towards Reaper again, who was still standing in his spot at the head of the table.

“You weren’t informed because you are busy with your own missions, are you not?” Ogundimu’s eyes were narrowed as he addressed the other man. Reaper crossed his arms in front of his chest. From where you sat you could see that both of them were about the same height as they stood toe to toe.

“Cut the crap, we both know this has nothing to do with that,” Reaper growled beneath his mask.

Ogundimu smiled. “I am surprised. You’re usually not even present for briefings.”

“That’s because I’m usually the one devising the fucking plan for those missions.” Reaper was seething. “Who planned this one, Akande?” The way he was saying the other’s name tended to sound like an insult.

Ogundimu leaned his head back a fraction. “Maximilien and I did.”

Reaper huffed. “Should have known you would go over my head like this sooner or later.”

“Oh, come now, Gabe—”

“Don’t fucking Gabe me now.” Reaper interrupted him, his arms back at his sides, hands balled into fists. You could hear the leather of his gloves straining from where you sat. “Honestly, I don’t care for your mission.”

“Then why the scene?”

Reaper stepped right into Ogundimu’s space, head at an angle. “Why is she here?”

They both looked at you, and you couldn’t even meet their eyes, you cast your gaze back down to your hands with frayed nerves.

“We need a medic, don’t we?”

“Then take another one.”

“Why?”

“Because she’s—” Reaper stopped abruptly, and you raised your head tentatively to peek at him through your lashes.

You saw a nasty smile spread across Ogundimu’s face. “Because she’s what?”

Reaper had backed down a few steps, his body language had changed from angry to uncertain. It was weird to see him like that.

“She’s–nothing.” He hissed and sat down in the chair at the very head of the table. “She can’t even heal enough without fainting.”

Why did that comment hurt?

Ogundimu turned to you, his mouth still curled into a smile as he studied you. You hugged yourself with one arm, this whole situation was unbearably uncomfortable.

“So she’s nothing to you?” Heavy steps came to stop behind you, Ogundimu’s presence was unsettling.

Reaper only grunted, arms crossed once more, casually sitting in that massive chair.

Ogundimu’s flesh and bone hand landed on your shoulder like it did so many times before. But this time it felt different, he hadn’t done it for your benefit, not to placate you, not to comfort you, but as an interlude. Somehow you knew what was about to happen, you shivered in fear.

“If that is the case,” he murmured and dropped his cybernetic arm on your other shoulder as well before bringing it forward to wrap his mechanical fingers around your throat and squeeze. “Then you wouldn’t mind if I killed her, right?”

Your mind drew blank, as if on their own accord your eyes shot to Reaper as your mouth opened to suck in a breath.

But he just sat there, totally unphased by what was happening.

When Ogundimu saw no reaction from the other man, he gradually tightened his grip on your windpipe until you whimpered and tried to pry his hand off with your own.

“You’d kill one of your few medics just to prove a point?” Reaper asked, his head tilted.

You stared at him incredulously.

Had all of Reaper’s talk about you belonging to him been untrue? If so you’d be screwed now, because apparently you were of no use for Ogundimu besides being a way to find out about Reaper’s loyalties and motivations.

“Try me,” Ogundimu said heatedly.

You groaned when the pressure became so unbearable that you thought your eyes would pop out of your skull any moment. This was even worse than the time Reaper was strangling you, he hadn’t squeezed nearly as hard as Ogundimu. Already your vision was fading, bright spots were dancing in front of your closed lids and panic was making your heart pound wildly against your chest.

Tears were streaming down your face when the pressure suddenly let off and you could breathe again. It hurt, oh it hurt so much when you tried to breathe two mouthfuls at a time. His hand was still around your neck though, still holding you upright, the back of your head now pressed against his abdomen behind you.

“You have a point,” the man said behind you, “it would be quite the waste.”

Then he leaned down to your level.

“Sorry, this isn’t personal,” Ogundimu whispered in your ear deceptively soft. Then he hauled you up from your seat, kicked aside the chair from right below you and crowded you against the table until you were bent over it, his crotch pushing into you from behind. The hand around your throat disappeared completely and instead grabbed a handful of your hair, pulled tight and forced you to look at Reaper again.

“You wouldn’t mind if I—” Ogundimu rolled his hips into you and you gasped in shock. “—borrowed your little toy?”

Oh fuck. Oh fuck no. No, no, no… what the hell was happening? Was Ogundimu really going to… just to piss off Reaper?

“No!” You couldn’t help it, this was too much. You couldn’t even bear the thought.

From eyes blurred by tears you saw Reaper slowly unraveling his arms, leaning forward in his seat, the hollow eyes of his mask boring into yours. He was breathing faster, the way his armor was rising and falling was visible to you even from across the table.

“Go on, fuck her. I don’t care.”

Well, shit. He wouldn’t help you after all. Ogundimu’s plan wasn’t working, Reaper wasn’t reacting at all and you didn’t want to imagine how far the man behind you was willing to go to prove that he won.

“Right,” Ogundimu breathed and pushed your head to the hard wood of the table, his other hand wandering along your back to push your pants down. You wailed when you felt the cool air of the room against your backside, your arms flailing uselessly in the air beside you. There was nothing you could do to stop him, his grip was too strong. Your cheek hurt where it was pressed to the table, his cybernetic fingers cold and unyielding against your scalp.

“Please don’t do this,” you gasped and Ogundimu leaned down to speak to you.

“Maybe you can tell me if he’s telling the truth, hm?”

Why was he so interested in knowing about all of this?

“He–he said to me that,” you hiccuped, “that he needs my healing to feel something.”

“Is that so?” Ogundimu sounded curious, his hand on your back massaging soothing circles into your muscles.

Reaper scoffed. “And what if I said that?” His claws were scratching along the wood, you could hear it where your ear was pressed to the surface, loud and clear.

“Tell me something, dear,” the man behind you said right next to your ear, “did you sleep with him?”

Well, you wouldn’t describe being raped as sleeping with someone. But as far as technicalities went it had happened.

You really didn’t want to admit it out loud, you trembled as you clenched your teeth together, staring straight ahead at Reaper who had the power to stop this at any moment if he so desired, but didn’t. And you wanted to scream at him, to ask him where his talk about you being his was now, why he wasn’t telling Ogundimu to back the fuck off.

When you didn’t answer, the man behind you pressed his groin against your backside through your panties, reminding you that he was in control. “Tell me.”

With jerky movements you nodded once, every fiber of your being repulsed at having to concede like this.

Ogundimu chuckled. “I knew it,” he said, triumph sounding in his voice. “I knew it from that very first mission I had assigned her to you. That she was affecting you, the marks on her neck told me all about it.” He stopped the rubbing on your back. “But I’d have never guessed that it was because of her healing.” He sounded curious now, “Maybe I should sample it myself.”

Suddenly he stepped away from you far enough to flip you over into your back, your hair half covered your face where it stuck to your wet cheek. Seeing him above you like this brought back the memories of what happened in the lab before Reaper had come to your room that night and you panicked.

You tried to hit him with your fists where you could, but of course it didn’t help at all, your legs were trapped in your own pants between your knees, and he simply caught your wrists and pinned them above your head in his massive cybernetic first. You could hear the machinery whirring inside it.

“Easy now,” he warned you darkly, all traces of mirth gone from his features. “I’m trying to let you up so you can dress yourself, alright?”

You didn’t believe him, but nodded hesitantly anyway.

Slowly, he let go of your wrists and pulled away three steps to give you space, he didn’t even look at you anymore, instead he watched Reaper whom you could only see from your peripheral as a dark shadow.

Quickly, you got up and off the table, pulled up your pants and shakily ran a hand through your messy hair.

Ogundimu had taken a seat in one of the chairs and beckoned you now.

On wobbly legs you awkwardly crossed the distance and came to a halt in front of him. Reaper was behind you now, you couldn’t see him at all anymore, but Ogundimu could.

“Come,” he said with a half smile and patted his lap. Uncertain, you looked from his legs up to his face, taking deep breaths to calm down your still racing heart. Cautiously you wanted to sit down across his legs, but he shook his head.

With a scowl you straddled his lap instead, your hands coming to rest on your own thighs, balled to fists.

“Good. Now, please show me how you heal someone.”

You swallowed around a very dry throat, you could still feel his fist around it when you did.

“It depends on where they’re hurt,” you answered meekly, unable to look him in the eyes.

He hummed in thought. “Well, then show me where you healed our dear friend Gabriel.” Without having to check you knew that Ogundimu was looking at Reaper when he said that.

With an internal sigh you raised your right arm, still slightly bluish in tint from that last episode with Dr. O’Deorain and hesitantly touched his sternum through the dark red dress shirt he was wearing.

You could feel the vibration of his chuckle. “There? That’s adorable,” he commented and you felt your cheeks burn in humiliation.

You tried to ignore his warmth underneath your thighs and palm, instead closing your eyes and sending out a bit of healing. He didn’t react at first, but then he hummed in delight.

“I can see how someone could enjoy this, but,” he grabbed your wrist gently with his flesh hand, “I believe it might be more... authentic without a barrier, wouldn’t you agree, dear?” He flashed one of his brilliant smiles and your stomach sunk. “Would you be so kind and help me with that?” His voice had lowered considerably as he motioned to his front, the air around you became warmer while you could swear that an icy wind was blowing against your back.

With shaking fingers you clumsily fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, getting them open one by one, then you slightly pulled the two halves apart, revealing a powerful chest underneath that actually looked like it was straight from a bodybuilding magazine. It was almost ridiculous how ripped Ogundimu was.

The blush on your cheeks deepened when he caught you staring, a small smirk played around his full lips.

“Like what you see?” He murmured only for you, half lidded eyes looking down at you.

“Maybe if it wasn’t you,” you answered in annoyance, then pressed your hand against his skin right in the same spot as before.

Ogundimu laughed. “She’s feisty. I can see why you like her,” he said to Reaper again.

His laughter faded quickly though when you sent out the strongest healing you were capable of, trying to get him to shut up for once.

And he did. The only sound that he made was a grunt, his eyes closed seemingly of their own volition and his mouth went slack as he leaned his head back a fraction.

You couldn’t help but feel proud in this moment. That your ability was that strong it rendered one of the most powerful men in the world speechless.

Oh, but you hadn’t thought of how you had neglected your own body for a little too long now, these past few days had been nothing but malnourishment and lack of sleep. And you felt it in your bones now. Already your hand started slipping down the man’s chest, your head felt light and everything sounding more distant. Quickly, you stopped the healing output and drew your arm back to cradle it against your chest.

You wanted to get up and off his lap too, but strong arms prevented you from getting further away. Instead, they pulled you closer and right into the man in front of you.

“I need to lie down—” you wanted to say but plush lips on yours stopped you from finishing. Wide eyed you stared ahead, not able to focus on anything. When Ogundimu cradled your head in his hand you let out a weak whimper, eyes falling shut with fatigue.

Between Ogundimu’s hands on you, you also felt that icy wind all around now, it made you shiver as it crept along your sides. Weakly, you opened your eyes and what you could finally focus on was a black swirling mist right behind Ogundimu, coalescing into the shape of Reaper.

Red, burning embers shone brightly in the sockets of his mask, his fist rising. You were able to draw back right before he knocked Ogundimu over the head. The man slumped to the side and you hurriedly rushed off of his lap, wiping your mouth on the back of your hand.

“You done?” Reaper growled, cracking his neck.

“I…” you didn’t know what to say. This would have consequences, right? A man like Ogundimu would definitely not like being knocked out like that. “I need to get out of here,” you mumbled and rushed to the exit.

Just as you opened the door Reaper stopped you, his claws digging into your upper arm. Wordlessly, he pulled you outside and dragged you through the hallways.

You stumbled along, through doors and down stairs until you didn’t know where you were anymore, Reaper’s hold on you not budging. You were still feeling light headed from healing Ogundimu.

“Wait,” you called out after a few minutes, breathing heavy, and tried to pull free. “Where are we going?”

Reaper whirled around, his claws dug into your arm painfully. “We’re leaving.”

“What?”

He took a step towards you and lowered his voice. “What do you think will happen when Akande wakes up?” He crowded you against a nearby wall. Even though he was wearing his mask you were certain he was glaring at you.

“I… I don’t know.”

“Do you want to stick around and find out?”

You trembled when you looked into the dark holes of his mask, did you want to stay at this Talon base and face Ogundimu’s wrath, or go with the man who had hurt and abused you many times already?

It was like choosing between drowning or burning to death, really.

“What about Caleb?” You whispered frantically. “I can’t leave when he’s still here, they’ll kill him… or worse.”

Reaper’s hold on you loosened a little, then his hands fell away completely and he sighed.

“Your little Overwatch comrade is not here.”

What was he talking about?

“What do you mean?”

“He’s not here, we never had him.”

Something inside you broke at that admission. They never had him? That was not possible.

”Liar!” You slid sideways along the wall, away from him. “You’re just saying that so I’ll come with you.”

With a snarl Reaper grabbed at his mask, pulled it off and simply threw it on the ground. You flinched when it clanked against the tile of the hallway loudly.

Seeing him maskless again was like a slap to the face, and you felt your knees buckle when the memories hit you from that night.

“Look me in the eyes and tell me I’m lying,” he growled, his irises burning embers, face contorted in frustration.

You didn’t know what to believe anymore, if what he said was true that would mean that everything you had done had been… totally unnecessary.

You wouldn’t have had to work for Dr. O’Deorain.

You wouldn’t have had to work for Ogundimu.

And you wouldn’t have had to… submit to Reaper.

Yes, he had used Caleb to get what he wanted as well. How were you supposed to know when he was lying or not?

“Do you honestly think I would ever trust you, especially now that I know you’ve been lying to me?”

Reaper frowned, eyes narrowing when he approached you again.

“I’ll show you then,” he said and wanted to grab your wrist, but stopped mid-air, instead he turned and went down the nearby staircase.

He just left you standing there, as if he knew you’d follow eventually.

And you did, because… what else were you supposed to do? He was right, as soon as Ogundimu woke up there would be hell to pay. And you’d be his number one target to get to Reaper. He had just seen that the masked mercenary wasn’t someone who shared his toys.

With a deep breath you collected yourself and quickly followed him down the stairs.

His long coat was swishing behind him whenever he rounded a corner, his shoulders drawn and tense. Finally, you both reached the very bottom of the staircase, the heavy security door leading outside opened noiselessly for you and after another long corridor, and passing multiple guards, you reached a very nondescript looking pair of double doors.

Reaper just went ahead as if he owned the place, which was probably at least partially true, whenever you studied the guards’ faces for any sign of trouble, they quickly averted their eyes; one of them even saluted. Reaper was a feared man. No wonder. Plus, they had definitely never seen his face before, even though it was partially hidden in the darkness of his hood.

The last guard hurried to enter his access code into a brightly glowing terminal to grant you access to the holding cells.

“Are you here often?” You asked Reaper when the heavy door behind you closed again. The way he had just waltzed in here spoke of some kind of routine. You wondered about the implications… Was he an interrogator or something equally sinister?

“No,” he answered shortly while he moved to the side, gesturing to the three cells in front of you. “He’s not in here.”

The small rooms all looked the same, each had a narrow bench, a sink, toilet and a cot crammed against the undecorated, bland walls. They looked just like the one from that security camera footage Ogundimu had shown you that first day you had been brought here.

You took a cautious step forward, peering into the first cell with apprehension. Who would be in there and what state would they be in?

But as you searched for a person you found... nothing. There was nobody in any of the cells. Startled, you whirled around.

“There is no one here,” you stated the obvious.

“Right. Now, let’s go.”

“No. This can’t be all of the cells? Surely, Talon has more than three.”

Reaper sighed. “Obviously not,” he ground out, frustration evident in his voice.

“But–where is Caleb then?” This was impossible, you had seen the video. Had they been able to alter the footage? You had heard that these things were possible, but never thought you’d fall for them.

Could it be he was… dead?

“No clue. But he was never here”

You just stood there, gaping at Reaper, who had his arms crossed in front of him again. Anger gnawed at you, how could they fool you like that, weren’t you smarter than that?

So, what now?

Your hesitation was interrupted by Reaper now finally grabbing your wrist and pulling you towards the exit.

“We have to leave.” He sounded really urgent now, almost anxious. It was weird to see him like that, the usually so composed and unbothered man now reduced to this. Had you not been a part of it you would have laughed at his distress. But, well. You were a part of it, a crucial one at that, and you were in deep shit. Even more than usual.

“Fine,” you yielded, tagging along once more.

You left the holding cells under the curious eyes of the guards, when one of them made a weird face at seeing Reaper clutching your arm, you pulled it free of his grasp.

“You still haven’t told me where we’re going,” you said when you were out of earshot.

“Somewhere safe.”

“Uh-huh. And that is where?”

Visibly shaking in frustration, Reaper turned around to you. “Can you just shut up for one sec—” A loud alarm was sounding through speakers in the ceiling, interrupting him.

You two were staring at each other, the realization that you were now wanted raising goosebumps on your arms. Heart in your throat, you didn’t hesitate when Reaper grabbed your arm once more and you both hurried along the halls and staircases until you finally reached a door that seemed to be an emergency exit.

When Reaper ripped it open, a guard stood on the other side, who had just been talking into his earpiece and upon realizing who you were, fumbled for his gun.

The next things were happening in such quick succession, you were not sure how you even managed to keep track.

Reaper pushed you to the side, brought his arms in front of himself as if to cross them and reached into the folds of his coat. The dark mist was rising off of him so densely, you couldn’t see his face for a second. When he pulled out his hands from the blackness he was holding his shotguns in them. The guard was still trying to get a grip on his own gun when Reaper shot him point blank in the chest.

You managed not to cry out in shock, even though he had been so close that it had felt like he’d shot you instead of the poor bastard who had been unfortunate enough to cross paths with Reaper.

“Always said Max hires the most incompetent idiots,” he muttered to himself, then looked over his shoulder at you. “Come on.”

Without looking at the man torn to pieces on the floor, you followed Reaper into an underground garage that seemed to be deserted.

You passed many fancy looking hover cars until Reaper stopped before a bulky one that was definitely armored. He pushed you towards the car door.

“Get in,” he urged and you quickly went for the handle. The door opened with a swish, but just as you wanted to climb in, Reaper held you back. “Sorry, mariquita,” he rasped against your ear, “but for this part I need you to sleep a little.”

You felt a prick on your neck and a cool substance entering your bloodstream, the last thing you could remember was how the world tilted when you fell forward onto the car seat and everything went black.

***

You came to in a small room, it was semi dark and quiet. A pounding headache was making itself known when you blinked a few times.

What had happened? The last thing you remembered was how Reaper had pushed you into the armored car.

Oh shit, you were somewhere off base. He kidnapped you.

With a jolt you sat upright on the duvet of the bed. When you looked around you realized that you were in some kind of log cabin, wooden walls and furnishings gave it away. It was very rustic, outdated even. A stale smell of dust and earthly moisture was in the air, not very pleasant.

You winced when the pain in your head pounded angrily at you for sitting up so quickly.

Carefully, you shifted to the edge of the bed and put your feet on the ground, the room spun a little, but you managed to get it under control with a few deep breaths.

Where the hell had Reaper brought you, and where was he anyway? All you knew was that he was going to pay for drugging you like that.

Not far away was the door, it looked so inviting, you just had to check. Slowly, you got up and tip-toed over, your heart beating a little faster. Unconsciously holding your breath you tried the handle and–the door was locked. Even though you had expected it, it was still so disappointing.

Next to the door was a window with the curtains drawn, a sliver of light fell through the gaps. When you pulled them aside you saw trees and bushes, the setting sun filtering through the leaves, nothing else. Shit, so you really were in the woods?!

You couldn’t even open the window to climb outside, there were iron bars out in front, probably to prevent looters or bears from entering. Who knew, you hadn’t ever been in one of those log cabins before.

With a sigh you opened the widow to let in some fresh air, it smelled really nice at least and you stood there a little longer, trying to see something beyond the many pines. It was so quiet here, the only sounds you could discern were that of a woodpecker and the wind in the trees.

What would happen once Reaper came back? What if he didn’t come at all... and you were left here…

A violent shiver ran through you. Somehow both options sounded terrible.

You moved away from the window and into the small kitchenette across the room that consisted of a fridge, a sink and a small camping burner on a narrow counter. The fridge contained nothing but air, it wasn’t even running. The cabinets above revealed the same, layers of dust and mouse droppings. You slammed them shut in disgust.

Besides the small kitchen and the bed you’d woken up in, there was only a rackety looking table with a single chair crammed into the corner and a small fireplace.

The entire place had seen better days, the floor was covered in dust and dirt and cobwebs hung from the low ceiling.

There was a small broom leaning against the wall of the fireplace, among other utensils for tending to the fire.

There was nothing else you could do, so you picked up the broom with the bent bristles and started sweeping the wooden floor. Ash and dust swirled up, the few sunbeams peeking through the small single window made it look like they were dancing. Occasionally you had to sneeze, but you kept going and gathered the dirt in a pile.

Just as you checked around the room to see if you missed a spot, you heard the crunching of leaves and gravel caused by heavy footsteps through the open window. Reaper had returned after all.

Carefully, you put the broom back. The lock clicked and then Reaper swung the door inwards. The resulting wind blew your small dirt pile over your feet.

He was wearing something else now, not his usual leather cloak or armor, it was a black hoodie with the hood drawn over his head and dark blue combat pants. The sight startled you, you’d never seen him look so... casual before. He almost looked normal if it hadn’t been for the red glowing eyes and ashen skin.

With crossed arms you faced him. “What is this place?” You didn’t beat around the bush, even though you were terrified of what the future held for you.

Reaper still stood in the doorway, carrying something in his arms. With a casual kick he closed the door behind him, then moved to the kitchen. You noted how he didn’t lock the door again. His heavy boots thudded dully on the floorboards. He dropped a brown paper bag onto the counter and started removing items from it, mostly cans and bottles.

“This used to be my getaway when I was still–” he broke off, faltered when he put down another can, “–before I joined Talon.” He picked up a water bottle and held it out to you.

You eyed him in suspicion, but you were thirsty, now that you thought about it you were parched. Quickly, you went to him and grabbed the proffered bottle, took a few steps back and downed half of it in one go.

“What did you give me anyway?” You felt a little nauseous as you idly rubbed the spot of the injection at your neck.

“It was just a small dosage of tranquilizer, its side-effects should wear off soon,” he said offhandedly, putting the cans into the cabinets while he spoke.

You waited until he was finished and turned around to you again.

“Let me go.”

Silence stretched between you, he was leaning against the kitchen counter while you had taken on quite an aggressive stance. He didn’t react much besides tilting his head back a fraction to look down his nose at you, his mouth in a permanent frown.

“Alright.”

You stood stock-still, not daring to breathe. Had you heard right?

“W–What?”

“You can go,” he elaborated, crossing his arms in front of himself.

“You’re shitting me.”

“I’m not. You can go if you can find your way out of the forest.”

Fuck him.

“Fuck you. Take me away from here and somewhere safe.” You’ve had enough. This would be your last stand.

“We are safe right here.”

“You know what I mean. I want to go home.” Your voice broke on the last word, emotion was causing your vocal chords to waver. Damn him for giving you hope like that.

“Home?” He sounded skeptical. His clothes rustled when he moved away from the counter and towards you. His footsteps pounded in the rhythm of the pain in your head. You didn’t look up as he approached you, you just waited for his feet to appear in front of you.

“If that is what you want.”

You did look up at him now.

“Since when does it matter what I want?” You couldn’t help but feel bitter.

His red eyes searched yours, the expression on his face may have been his usual frown, but there was something else underneath it; a sadness you were only now able to detect. Was he trying to make you feel bad, guilty? Well, it was not working.

“What are you implying?” His voice had become a little quieter.

You scoffed at him, incredulous.

“Ever since I had the misfortune of meeting you I have been subjected to the worst shit I’ve ever had to endure. And not just from you, no...but you really took the cake.”

You watched his eyes narrow the longer you went on.

“And all this time I tried to just make it through, with the little bit of hope left that maybe, maybe Overwatch will help. Maybe they come and find me, Lena, Winston, anyone. To make this nightmare end.” You had to stop a second to take a breath, Reaper was still quietly standing in front of you, arms crossed once more. “But obviously you people at Talon are great at hiding in plain sight, I bet you even made it look like nobody survived that explosion, just like you swindled me into thinking that Caleb was still alive and in your custody.”

“Overwatch is not coming.”

“I know that, okay?!” You screamed at him now, tears of rage had gathered in your eyes.

“Remember what I told you about them. They don’t care for you, they are still the same people from before. The same big children playing war with the help of their private soldiers.”

“That’s not true!” You couldn’t stand to hear this again, you knew that Overwatch was so much more than that, had seen first hand all the good you’d done all over the globe. “You’re just still salty about what happened to you.”

“Careful,” he warned you, voice gravelly.

But you’d had it, there was no going back now. The two of you were having this conversation and you would tell him everything that’s been on your mind and had been too afraid to say.

“No, I’m done. I’m... so tired of it all. Of constantly being afraid, of always having to tip-toe around your big egos.” You waved your hands in the air to emphasize your point. “Men like you can’t take any form of criticism without throwing a fit.”

Reaper took a step towards you and you moved one back.

“Men like me?”

“Yes, you’re all the same. Ogundimu and you, none of you can take no for an answer.”

His eyes had started burning brighter than before, a shadow had fallen over his face. “Don’t compare me to Akande,” he growled, stepping even further into your personal space and you yielded.

“I’ll compare you to whatever the hell I want,” you didn’t budge on your stance even though he was crowding you against a wall.

Were you scared? Yes, shitless. But were you going to shut up? Not in the foreseeable future it seemed.

What did you have to lose now? There was no Caleb dangling above your head, Reaper had nothing. And your own well being you stopped caring for after having your free will stripped away. But you were taking it back now, whatever the cost.

Reaper was standing mere centimeters away, your chests were almost touching as he was looking down at you, his black mist slowly rising from the depths of his hood.

His hand came up and towards your face, you flinched because you thought he was finally going to hit you for your insolence. But he didn’t even touch you, he drew the hand back as if he’d burned himself.

“Are you done insulting me yet?”

You blinked at him.

“Did you get it all off your chest?”

Taking a breath you wanted to keep going, but he interrupted you.

“You should eat something,” he finally finished, then pulled away to give you space again.

“I don’t want to eat, I want to leave.”

“You will eat first. Want to collapse in the middle of the forest?”

Grumbling under your breath you pushed off the wall and towards the kitchen. Since when was he that considerate, was he actually going to help you get away?

You leaned against the counter while he opened a can of ravioli and put it on the burner.

Neither of you spoke as he was stirring the can with a spoon, even though there was still so much more you wanted to say.

After a few minutes he turned the burner off and wordlessly set the can with the steaming ravioli on the counter next to you, spoon still inside.

“Don’t...you want any?” You asked hesitantly, not sure how you felt about being served food by Reaper of all people.

“I don’t eat,” he stated matter-of-factly.

“You don’t–what? How do you even live?”

He tilted his head to the side, raising one brow. “I don’t.”

You rolled your eyes at his ridiculous statement and decided against opening that can of worms.

“... doesn’t live…” you shoveled the mushy ravioli into your mouth and mumbled to yourself between spoonfuls. At this point you were convinced that he was saying things to mess with your head.

The food was awful, but at the same time heavenly on your empty stomach. There was only a little food left in the can when you addressed him again.

“So when I’m finished, you’ll take me out of here?” You would not forget what he said earlier.

“Under one condition,” he said gravely, the doughy pasta almost got stuck in your throat when you tried to swallow it.

“...which is?” Oh, how you hated the suspense. Already the ravioli sat like a rock in your stomach.

He made sure you were paying attention before continuing.

“You spend one last night with me.”

The spoon clattered loudly on the table, scattering tomato sauce everywhere.

“No,” you answered automatically, moving away from the counter and creating more space between you two.

There was no way you were going to do this again, especially under the pretense of consent.

Reaper didn’t seem surprised by your outburst, he must have assumed you’d react in such a fashion. His eyes were flat when he slowly began moving.

“Why not, have I not been good to you?” He was talking so calmly, reassuringly, while moving towards you.

Was he fucking serious?

You tried to keep the distance intact, but there was the wall behind you again, damn but this hut was too small.

“Good to me?” You wanted to sound outraged, but it came out more like a squeak.

He carried on. “Did I leave you wanting?” You didn’t like how his voice dropped into that purr, the way he carried himself when he approached you.

“Don’t you dare say that.” He had hurt you. He acted like what had happened had been some sort of romantic encounter?!

Your pulse sped up when you felt the immovable wood against your back while Reaper was still advancing. Cornered once more, the story of your life.

“S–Stop!”

But he kept coming until he could reach out to gently brush a stray lock of hair out of your face and behind your ear.

“You’re hurting my feelings, mariquita. Did you not enjoy yourself?” He murmured while his fingers brushed along your jaw and down your neck. You hated how his touch was not just revolting to you anymore, but it stirred something else deep inside. Somehow your brain was the only one remembering how traumatizing your last night together had been, your body seemed to only focus on how he had managed to make you come undone.

The sheer indignation you felt at his words that caused too many insults and accusations to want to come out all at once rendered you speechless.

When you didn’t answer he leaned further in, his breath tickled your ear when he spoke next. “Have I not been a generous lover?”

Oh god, you could feel the heat spread from your belly further outward, into your chest and also lower. A blush was forming on your cheeks while listening to his sensual deep voice telling you these intimate things.

“Shut up,” you whispered, trying in vain to get your reaction under control. His hands fell to your sides, holding your hips in place while he pressed a knee between your legs, pushing it against you as he had done before.

The sensation made you gasp.

“You know I can please you, hermosa,” he said heatedly against your neck.

Ugh. Yeah he was right, he was so well endowed and knew how to use what he’d been given, it had been nothing short of amazing, but at the same time you still hated this man’s guts for forcing it upon you. And for trying to do it again.

But what were you supposed to do? If you didn’t accept, well, would he still do it? Probably. It was as you’d said; he couldn’t take no for an answer. So there was only one thing you could do.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, drew back until you could see his face again.

“Promise... promise you’ll let me go.” You didn’t even recognize your own voice in that moment, it sounded so small and broken.

“I promise,” he hissed breathlessly against your face.

Your eyes searched his endlessly red ones, for what you didn’t even know... the truth, for lies? Whatever it was, you didn’t find it. But there was nothing you could do besides accepting. As foolish as it sounded, you had to try everything to get back home.

After what felt like an eternity of simply staring at him you finally surrendered, closed your eyes and nodded.

With your breath held you anticipated his next move now that you had given him permission, but nothing happened. Tentatively, you cracked an eye open and tried to see what he was waiting for.

When he saw that you were looking at him, he took a small step backwards, lifted his arms and pulled off his hoodie. Underneath he wore a simple grey t-shirt that accentuated his physique just right. Quickly, you averted your eyes again, feeling uncomfortable all of a sudden. The blush on your cheeks came back full force when he went for his shirt as well.

You didn’t know what to do, yes you had agreed to it but actually doing it was something completely different.

But as you were contemplating, Reaper moved forward again, his fingers tilting your head up by the chin so you had to look him in the face.

“Kiss me,” he murmured in his deep, smoky voice while focusing on your mouth. As if on its own, your tongue darted out to wet your lips in a nervous habit. His pupils dilated as he watched you, and your pulse spiked in reaction.

Uncertain, you moved your head forward a fraction, trying to close the distance between you. As you got closer, your eyes started to flutter shut, after that you followed the smell of him and the warmth he was exuding.

His hand had fallen away from your chin about half-way, but now that you pressed your lips to his, it came back up to cradle your cheek instead. His other hand brushed along your arm, down to your wrist and pulled it up to his chest to lay your palm against his pectoral.

As soon as he did that, you knew what he wanted. And you gave it to him.

You sent out healing strong enough to mend a big flesh wound, and just as you had anticipated he gasped against your mouth. He had not expected you to go all in at once. Maybe if you overpowered him with your healing he would forget about everything else...

Or this could go horribly wrong and the exact opposite might happen.

Before you could muse on it any more, Reaper licked over your lips, pushing them open gently, sensually. He was really good at this, at making you forget that you should be afraid–although he was even better at reminding you that you should be. You shuddered at the memory of him above you in the semi dark of your room and how his demonic eyes had burned brightly when he had pushed into you.

You closed your eyes so you could pretend this was somebody else, someone who cared about you, genuinely loved you. And not because they liked to use your abilities whenever they felt like it.

His wicked tongue didn’t even feel that foreign anymore as it explored your mouth in its unhurriedness. It even managed to coax your own to move against him until you were actually kissing him back in much the same way.

The kiss you were sharing was so intense it made your head spin and weak in the knees, but fortunately Reaper was already stepping right into you before you collapsed, his hands on your waist and thigh, and wrapped one of your legs around his hips. He pushed you up and finally your other leg around him, holding you against the wall and above the ground with his body. All the while he was kissing you senseless so you hadn’t even really noticed what he had done until you felt him pressed against you so closely.

A small whimper escaped you when he squeezed your thighs, then he drew back from the kiss, eyes half-lidded and heavy.

Reaper studied you for just a second, then snaked his arm around your back and moved away from the wall with you wrapped around him. Hastily, you broke off the healing stream and brought your arms behind his neck in order to not fall backwards.

It felt like you were betraying yourself, as if all the resistance you’d put up in the past had been a game that you two had played. That you had secretly wanted this all along and had simply played hard to get.

You forcefully reminded yourself that this would be the last time, the very last time this happened, whether he was telling the truth or not.

The trip over to the bed was a very brief one, already he was lowering you onto the soft surface, his knees between your legs and propped up on his arms above you.

His fingers were touching your cheek, following the contour of your bottom lip, then immediately he leaned back in to kiss you again, while his hands explored your body. This time it was him who divested you of your shirt and bra, his big hands on your bare skin were leaving you shivering.

Soon he had pulled off his pants, you got a glimpse of his erection from the corner of your eyes when he had surged back in to slot your mouths together once more. He pushed it against your thigh, letting you get a feel.

“This is what you do to me,” he groaned, fingers playing with the waistband of your pants.

Suddenly he paused.

Wary of his unexpected hesitation, you searched his eyes. They were so dark and their pupils dilated when he whispered to you, “May I?”

Your throat closed at his question. Really, was he going to pretend that this was anything more than you agreeing to something in order to get home? He really wanted you to fake your consent even more, humiliate you. Like you hadn’t already agreed to this.

“A little late to act like a gentleman now, isn’t it?” You couldn’t keep the bite out of your voice.

Reaper simply chuckled at that, took it as affirmation apparently, and pulled the fabric down and off of your legs.

Your heart beat frantically when he parted your legs for him to get in between, propped up on his elbows and dangerously close to your core. He held your gaze with his as he brushed along the inside of one of your thighs, raising goosebumps in the wake of his fingers. When he touched your folds you closed your eyes and released the breath you’d been holding.

“Look at me, marquita,” he commanded in his low voice. You forced yourself to open your eyes again and watched as he was slowly lowering his head to kiss you between your legs. You exhaled shakily at the feeling of his warm breath and lips against you. Already he started to use his tongue, its wet and slippery surface felt foreign against your nether lips.

Reaper hummed in delight when he licked over your clit experimentally and you couldn’t keep the small moan from escaping. He was still making eye contact with you when he ventured further downward and traced around your entrance with the tip of his tongue.

It was hard to keep your eyes on him like this when all you wanted to do was to hide. The blush on your cheeks was burning hotter than ever, one of your arms flew up to cover your mouth with the back of your hand when he licked inside of you. He moaned obscenely at tasting you like this and even his own eyes were fluttering shut.

He swirled his tongue back upwards and around to stimulate every part he could possibly reach, it felt so incredibly good, you sighed and moaned with every flick of his tongue.

His ministrations were so careful, so gentle, you were starting to relax. As your muscles unclenched and stopped quivering, your legs fell open the rest of the way. Reaper took this as an invitation to finally start tenderly sucking your clit, elevating your pleasure to the next level.

“Oh god–,” you gasped when he’d done it, but quickly bit down on your hand instead to stifle your outburst.

“Hmm, let me hear you,” he purred in between suckling and nipping at your sensitive nub.

You still tried to keep it down, which proved to be increasingly difficult with the way he was working you now. His mouth was moving faster, a little harder against you, sharp teeth dangerously grazing against your skin while his hands had started to stroke your thighs, up and down.

He was playing you like an instrument, every single touch served the greater purpose of bearing you to him further, opening you up completely. You quickly got lost in the sensations, everything he did felt incredibly good. So good, you didn’t want it to stop.

Now that was a scary thought.

His mouth briefly left you before he surged back in and you felt another touch, slowly stroking around your entrance. Reaper pushed a single finger inside you and it just slipped in without any resistance, you were so wet from his expert oral stimulation.

Oh shit, this was really doing it for you. This was exactly as you liked it, how could he know this, you had only spent one night together.

His finger pumped in and out of you slowly, in just the right angle that had you mewling into the back of your hand.

“I wanna hear you,” Reaper reminded you after stopping for just the small second it took to utter these words, and then kept at it again, but you were too occupied with trying to comprehend what was happening to you.

Just a little longer and you would come.

Just a little–

With one last long lick he pulled away completely, the cry of disappointment you made got stuck in your throat as you tried to suppress it unsuccessfully.

It frightened you how close you’d come to begging in that instance…

Reaper’s look of mild amusement he’d had before had disappeared, and it filled you with dread once more.

“I said,” he rasped as he took a hold of your arms, pulling you up to his level so you sat in his lap, “I want to hear you.”

His dick was brushing against your inner thigh, almost touching your sex. You couldn’t help yourself, nervously you glanced down and were reminded again of just how big he was, how much it had hurt the first time he’d entered you.

You swallowed drily.

“I–I’m...,” sorry you wanted to whisper, not sure why you were trying to apologize, but feeling that it was what he wanted at that moment. But you steered clear of it, you had nothing to be sorry for. “...okay.” You chose to say instead.

He studied you for a little while, his hard grip on your arms loosening, and idly stroking them instead. That spark of mischief entered his eyes once more, a small smirk played around his lips.

Slowly he dipped his head to brush his mouth over yours, his beard was tickling you.

“Did you like that?” He breathed against you, taking your bottom lip between his teeth and nipping it playfully.

Why was he talking so damn much?

There was no point in lying, but even as you nodded you wondered how your previous reactions could have been interpreted as anything but enjoyment. Again, he wanted you to confirm things you’d rather not. What an ass.

“You want to know what I like?” He gave you a brief kiss before leaning back and pulling you atop of himself. You held yourself up with your hands on both sides of his head. His erection was now firmly pressed against your ass. He was still smirking when he continued. “A pretty girl riding my dick.”

Your inner walls clenched at his crude words, combined with the feeling of his hard member poking your bottom, it made your entire body blush.

He really wanted you to take an active role in this, huh?

His hands were going over your back and further down to grab your ass to guide it against his cock, rubbing it between your soaked folds. Your arms buckled where you were still trying to hold yourself above him, your breath coming in short gasps.

He groaned at the feeling of his cock slicking up with your juices.

You were starting to hyperventilate.

“W–wait, I’m…” You couldn’t take him yet! You were not prepared, you didn’t want it to hurt like last time. “I need…please…”

You were… crying, why were you crying? He wasn’t even doing anything yet.

It was just like the first time he did this to you, even though you weren’t held down or at gunpoint, he managed to hold you captive, to force you to do anything he desired.

“Shh,” he was comforting you, calloused thumb wiping away your tears. “Calm down.”

You sobbed.

And then there were lips on yours, kissing away the tears that had run into your mouth, stealing away their saltiness and replacing it with Reaper’s own taste, a far more pleasant one if you were being honest.

The kiss turned from soothing to passionate in just a few seconds. His hands were roaming over your back in gentle circles, pressing your bodies together and into the most intimate embrace you’d shared yet.

You just wanted to forget about where you were and especially who you were with in that moment, you closed your burning eyes and kissed him until you were short of breath.

With eyes almost as red as his, you were looking at him, his fingers still stroking you softly.

There was no time to dwell on the feelings this embrace had just evoked, how Reaper had been able to comfort you with a single kiss. You knew you’d go crazy if you thought about it any longer. It was time to get this over and done with. Fuck it, this might as well hurt.

You sniffed once, pushed yourself up on shaking arms and wiped away the remaining moisture from your lashes. With determination you got up on your knees and shimmied back a little to line yourself up with his straining erection. One of your hands took a hold of it to guide it into yourself.

Oh, you really should have prepared…fuck, he was stretching you impossibly wide. You had to stop for a moment to catch your breath. With both hands on Reaper’s chest, you closed your eyes in concentration, willing your body to relax. But it was just so much to take in. You lifted up a fraction and sank down another centimeter, trying to keep your breathing under control.

Gritting your teeth against the pain and stretch you pushed yourself and took him the rest of the way.

Trembling like a leaf, hands balled into fists against his skin, you tried to accommodate to his girth. Your head hung low, hair falling around your face like a curtain.

You could feel your heartbeat both in your chest and where he was nestled between your legs.

Reaper’s hand gently cradled your face in his palm, tilting your head up to look at him. Once more his thumb brushed over your parted lips, dipping inside to press onto your tongue and you could only stare at the sea of his red eyes burning with the intensity of hellfire. Drool was running down your chin and Reaper’s fingers, but you didn’t really notice it, too occupied with the feeling of being filled so completely.

Reaper’s lips were parted as well when he watched his finger disappear into the cavern of your mouth. His other hand had landed on your butt, squeezing it once before pushing you down onto him while elevating his hips at the same time.

Your eyes rolled into the back of your skull when he moved inside you, a sob racked your body and then, as if on autopilot your lips closed around the digit in your mouth, sucking on it softly.

Reaper groaned loudly. “That’s it, hermosa.” His jaw clenched when you moved tentatively, just rotated your hips to get more comfortable. “Hnng, yes.”

It was fascinating–in a morbid kind of way–to watch his reactions; how he sighed when you lifted up and sunk back down, the way he closed his eyes in bliss when you ground against him with short thrusts or how his grip on you faltered when you scratched over his chest with your nails as you started to feel the effects of having him inside of you.

Slowly, the friction of his dick against your inner walls was starting to feel good. Relief was making you bold, you threw your head back and released a moan when you managed to find the right angle.

Immediately, his hands travelled to your breasts, kneading them and playing with your nipples. It only heightened your pleasure, spurring you on and increasing the speed with which you were moving.

All the emotions you’d felt in the last couple of days were warring within you. Hurt, despair, pleasure, hope... all of them were mixed together into a potent cocktail burning in your chest and threatening to spill out at any moment.

You felt your orgasm approach with a vengeance, it promised to pull you under with its intensity.

And intense it was. You screamed when you came, clutching at Reaper wherever you could, holding on for dear life.

Still breathing heavily, you opened your eyes and found you were lying on his chest, his normally slow heartbeat much quicker against your ear. You wanted to push away, but couldn’t move more than your eyes.

Reaper kissed the top of your head, then the world was spinning as your cheek was now pressed against a pillow and you lay face down on the bed.

He positioned you so you were on your knees, ass in the air and head low. A short moment of panic made you whimper in distress, but Reaper put his big hand onto the small of your back, effectively keeping you in place.

He was pushing into you from behind, and even though you had become somewhat accustomed to his girth, you still gasped when he had bottomed out.

One of his hands was gripping your hip, the other was sliding into your hair and pushing your head into the pillow, then he draped himself over you to speak into your ear.

“I’ll make sure Akande will never touch you again.” He was referring to the incident in the briefing room. The memory of being held in this exact position by Ogundimu made you shiver. “You have no idea–” he started pounding into you, hard and fast, and you whined with the force of it against your sensitive nerves. “–how much I wanted to kill him when he did.”

You and me both, you wanted to say but couldn’t answer because he was fucking you in earnest now, took away your ability to form coherent sentences.

With gritted teeth you fisted the sheets, bracing against his thrusts. Between your nerves shooting rapid fire signals to your brain and your conscious slightly worrying about Reaper’s promise contradicting what he just said, you felt a second orgasm coming. It sent you over the edge once more and into blissful oblivion for a few seconds, a dry sob the only sound you made.

Reaper had hauled you even closer as he was brutally pistoning in and out of you until, finally, he stilled, buried deep inside of you, spilling his release.

For a few seconds nothing happened.

Then, Reaper pulled out of you and you collapsed onto the bed.

Was it… over?

You didn’t know what time it was, but judging from the darkness that had slowly crept over the room you guessed it was nighttime.

You felt him against your side, the warmth radiating off of him was stifling. With one arm he turned you around and towards him. You stared with drooping eyes at his scarred chest instead of his face.

He pressed you against him, tucking your head underneath his chin, and somehow it was this act of intimacy that was crossing a line for you. With your arms in front you pushed away from his chest.

“Alright…” you had to clear your throat. “I did what you wanted.” A small sniff gave away your uncertainty, the fear that now you’d done his bidding it was time for him to tell you it had all been a bluff.

“Night’s not over, mariquita.”

You glared at him. He really had the nerve to smirk.

“You’re still gonna–” you had to stop when his fingertips brushed over your ribs and over a nipple, tickling you and raising gooseflesh in its wake. “–gonna get me out of here.”

When he didn’t respond, you grabbed his wrist to stop his wandering hand, forcing him to acknowledge you.

His eyes flashed when you’d touched him, the smirk on his face morphing into a sly grin that showed off his sharp teeth.

“What if I don’t?”

What?

“Oh, no! No, you will!” You exclaimed. “You promised!”

“Show me how much you want it, then,” he purred, “I’m all yours, hermosa.”

You sunk back a fraction, taken aback by his words. What did he want you to do? You’d already taken an active role in this, and now he was asking for even more. He was insatiable.

“But I…”

“What do you want to do to me?” He murmured and leaned back, one hand going behind his head, confident that you’d play along.

Oh, there were several things you wanted to do to him, but none of them were going in the direction he was hoping.

“I want…” you trailed off, eyes squinting at where you were still holding his wrist somehow. As you were thinking of all the things that had happened to you, all the abuse you’d suffered, there really was only one thing coming to mind.

“I want to hurt you.”

There, you said it. What was he going to say to that? With a challenge in your eyes you sized him up.

You could see his pupils dilate, then he pulled his arm towards himself and you with it until you sat straddled on his abdomen, because you were not letting go. Why weren’t you letting go?

“Then hurt me,” he whispered heatedly, offering his throat in surrender.

Shit, this was… not what you’d anticipated to happen. What could you even do to hurt him? He was a wraith, whatever the fuck that meant.

“I’m a healer,” you said more to yourself than him, trying to come up with anything to get out of this situation that was growing uncomfortable very fast.

“Yes, and look what I did to you,” he goaded, letting the arm that was still in your grip fall limp. “I tricked you,” he went on, that fire in his eyes burning just a little brighter. “I lied and deceived you. Took advantage of you.”

So he really wanted you to lash out? Somehow you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of giving into his obvious taunt, but your grip on his wrist was tightening in fury. He was right, he had done all those things. And they were all things you hated him for, really wanted to retaliate.

“You took everything from me,” you whispered, your throat closing up in anger and sadness. Something in his expression changed at that, but you couldn’t discern what it was.

“I have,” he answered quietly, “Because you’re mine.”

You backhanded him, and watched his head snap to the side with it, the small smile temporarily knocked off his face.

“I’m not fucking yours,” you spat at him.

“Yeah you are, mariquita.”

“Stop calling me that!”

“Never.”

You punched him in the jaw, the impact rattled your bones painfully, but the satisfaction at seeing the surprise in his eyes had been worth it.

Blood was spreading on his lips where they split, and he grinned at you, the red liquid had already coated those pearly whites as well.

“Was that all?” he asked, licking at the blood on his mouth.

You saw red, and with a cry you wrapped both your hands around his throat. The muscles and tendons were moving under your palms, you squeezed as hard as you could.

His smirk was not diminishing, but his eyes were closing, the endless sea of red pulsing with his heartbeat that you felt where you had your hands wrapped tightly around his neck.

Your grip was not loosening, his smirk had disappeared as his mouth was open and drawing shallow breaths while you watched his features, now pressing down on his windpipe with your whole upper body.

He groaned, closed his eyes and breathed “Go on, kill me. Put me out of my misery.”

Was this what you were doing? He cannot be killed, you remembered, but wished that it weren’t true. If only you could, physically and mentally… you weren’t sure. You’d actually never killed anyone before, and had hoped you’d never have to. But could you make an exception to that now? It’s what he deserved, after all. For taking away the family and friends you’d found in Overwatch, your freedom, your dignity.

“Then die,” you sobbed, tears were running down your face and dropping onto your fingers that were white-knuckled. It was what he deserved.

What he…

...deserved.

You leaned back, relieving the pressure on his neck.

Looks like I can’t do it, you though and hung your head.

That was when you felt his hands on your thighs, idly stroking along the outside, his grip becoming stronger by the second now that you weren’t strangling him anymore. Your own hands were just resting against his skin now, your whole body trembled.

Reaper brushed his hands up your sides, over your arms and into your hair, pulled you down and kissed you hungrily, the metallic taste of his blood shocking to your senses.

He easily reversed your positions and sunk inside you while still devouring your mouth with his own.

The night was far from over, he fucked you so many times you lost count, but he made sure you came every single time. You passed out sometime in the morning hours before the sun came up with his head between your thighs once more, your exhaustion finally catching up.

***

The sun was shining when you two stopped at the edge of the forest. It was a beautiful day and you felt giddy at the prospect of being free.

The entire way from the cottage through the forest Reaper hadn’t spoken to you, hadn’t uttered a single word and you’d been grateful for that because you weren’t sure you’d have been able to answer. The only thing on your mind had been freedom.

Walking had proven to be quite difficult after last night’s activities and you got the distinct feeling that it had been his intention of making sure you’d feel him for a week at least.

But as you stood there now, the trees behind you and a road in front, something held you back. Maybe it was still the thought of being trapped, of them having Caleb that kept you in place, glued to Reaper’s side. It was just too good to be true.

A question was burning in the back of your mind, ever since last night.

“Why are you letting me go?”

Reaper was wearing his black hoodie again, hood drawn over his head and veiling a part of his face.

“Shit,” he sighed after a moment. “I don’t know.” He kicked at a pine cone. “It’s just that… everything I touch… I kill,” he said after turning to you again. “And I don’t want you… to die.”

You didn’t know what to say to that, but it stirred some weird feelings you did not want to acknowledge at this point. So instead, you looked at your own feet, stuffed your hands into your pant’s pockets and just nodded jerkily.

Silence stretched between you and you wondered if you were supposed to say something… thank you? No way.

“So, um…” you swallowed drily, “I guess I’ll be going then?” Your heart beat like a rabbit’s, afraid he might change his mind.

“If you follow the road for about two miles you’ll find a small village with a shop and a phone,” he said in a gravelly tone, gazing into the direction he had just mentioned. He looked so… defeated.

“Okay,” you said breathlessly, practically vibrating with the urge to get going.

When he didn’t elaborate, you took a step and set foot on the road, walking slowly at first.

“Remember what I said about Overwatch,” he called after you, but you were already walking faster, faster until you broke into a run. You didn’t dare look over your shoulder in fear of seeing him following you.

You ran as fast as you could, tears streaming from your eyes, carried away by the wind blowing around your nose. You were free, free. Adrenaline was urging you along, any fatigue you might have felt blown away.

When you reached the city limits you almost collapsed, sobbing in relief.

It was finally over.

#reaper x reader #reader x reaper #reaper x you #you x reaper #fanfiction #overwatch #gabriel reyes #non-

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