#i know no one follows me for um ... hot doom takes but here it is

[wellthebardsdead]

Clockwork heart pt6

Part 5 here

———

Wyrm: *dragging his feet up the stairs and into the arcanum, the lessons of Vivec now safely back in his possession and Ancanos questions answered for today* I’m back…

Urag: *looks up from his desk* I?! Where have you been?! Have you been collecting that book this whole time?

Wyrm: *worried he might get in trouble and have to give the gauntlets back if he tells the truth* I-u-um I sat in the dorms and read it while Ogmund and J’zargo practiced their homework.

Urag: *sighs with mild annoyance, believing him knowing his relationship with the students around his mental and emotional age group* You know I don’t like you hanging around that Khajiit. He’s one step away from burning this whole place to the ground. And that Onmund never returns his books on time!

Wyrm: *relieved his fib was convincing enough* b-but they’re my friends papa… *sheepishly walks over and signs the return and borrow paperwork*

Urag: I know son, it’s rare you get any friends you fit with coming through these doors just… I don’t want them getting you into trouble. Or hurt. You know you’re dangerous when even Faralda is too afraid to teach you.

Wyrm: *giggles* her eyebrows only just grew back in didnt they. Well at least J’Zargo isn’t as bad as those mages down in the midden who nearly levelled the tunnels entirely with that ritual they were attempting.

Urag: and you’ll be smart not to speak of that to anybody while that ancano is around.

Wyrm: Yes papa. And to never go into the midden. Or to go into the village after dark. Or to run across the bridge in case I slip and fall. Or to-

Urag: *taps him on the head with a roll of paper gently making the dunmer giggle and scurry by* Cheeky.

Wyrm: *giggling as he walks to his door* I’ll keep it secret papa, I promise.

Urag: *shakes his head chuckling* I’ll bring dinner in shortly pup. Go have a bath before you throw yourself into your projects again alright?

Wyrm: *groans rolling his eye dramatically just wanting to finally read his book* yeeees papa. *walks into his room, closing the door with a smile hearing Urag laugh at his playful mood… so happy to hear his father laugh… and feeling terrible for lying* … *sighs and sets the book down before stripping off his robe and removing his arm, sitting it by the book as he kicks off the rest of his clothes making his way to the small washroom ensuite*

“Why did he ask me so many strange questions? Can’t everybody make a spectral version of themselves? Why did he care about my childhood so much?… does he really think I’m that pretty?… have I been too mean to him?…”

Wyrm: *sighs thinking to himself as he sinks into the tub of hot water, remembering the conversation and how it seemed to go on for forever, and how distracted he was by the thalmor agents hands all over him* …is… is this what love feels like?…………… I don’t… think I like it…

*a few hours later*

Wyrm: *finally ate a full meal after missing breakfast and only getting a few bites out of his lunch, now sitting on his bed reading and scribing notes from his childhood book with amazement as it finally reveals its secrets to him* “If you find yourself reading this story, know that I am sorry. For I have failed in my ultimate task and I now burden it to you. I know not what name you will take, what face you will bare, or what race you will be born of, but you will be born of my hands as a fragment of me. You may walk your own path in life if you so choose, but I ask now for you to read this if you can, my plea to you. To me… Don’t let our mistakes be in vain… Follow the doom drum… put him back together… complete my work… come find me. You. Us… Sotha Sil” *Sits back in surprise and reads it again* Sotha Sil… wrote this?…

“I wrote this.”

Wyrm: *blinks and shakes his head* malacaths mercy I’m tired, what time is it? *yawns looking at the clock he’d built on his bedside table to see 2am staring back at him as the hands tick slowly* …Aw biscuits I did it again… *sighs and looks back at his book, Pearl eyeball nearly popping out of his head in shock to see the page now completely blank, and the notes he’d written in his note pad utterly illegible* what?! No no no no!! That’s not fair!! *flips through his notes frantically to see the same scribbles all through his book except the now blank page* What about the poisoned robes being a lie?! The foul murder! Something about a waterfall and stars?! *flips through all his notes before dropping the pad and frantically putting on the gauntlets again* no no come on come back! Come back please! *grabs the book and notes getting no reaction* take me back to the vision! Anything plea- *face going pale seeing the notes he’d written literally disappear turning the notepad into a blank page, as if the knowledge could never be shared ever again* … n-no *tears up and chokes out a pained sob dropping back into the large pillows of his bed as he just breaks into a full meltdown* wh-what did I do wrong? I- is it because I lied to papa?…

*a few hours later*

???: s-…seht… why?…

Wyrm: *blinks open his eyes and screams seeing a handsome mers face inches from his own, beautiful golden skin now red and bleeding as another golden skinned mer guides his hand with a blade, slicing off their face* I- I’m sorry! I’m sorry! *blinks realising it’s a dream and he’s seeing through the eyes of somebody else*

???: Ayem! His feet! Cut off his feet!

Wyrm: *looks to his side to see the two masked figures from his vision, now realising them to be Vivec and Almalexia, and himself seeing through the eyes of sotha sil* No don’t! Please we can stop this! It’s not too la- *looks down at the handsome mer beneath him as he screams in agony as his feet are severed*

???: *screaming and writhing in pain looking up at him with pleading eyes* s-seht- m-my friend- p-please

Wyrm: *wanting to look away but unable to, forced to watch the scene before him as the knife slices through the flesh of his face, and Vivec’s hands grasp sotha sils, forcing him to peel the mers face from his flesh* please forgive me nerevar!!

Nerevar: *screaming in agony as he stares up at him in horror* PLEASE NO-

Wyrm: *suddenly shoots up in his bed, tears pouring down his cheek from his one eye as he fumbles across the covers. Just sobbing as he pulls the gauntlets from his hands, throwing his books to the side as he falls from his bed and onto the floor before running out of his room and to Urags* p-papa! Papa! *sobs opening the door and running inside climbing into his bed*

Urag: *jolts awake to find his son crawling into bed with him like he used to when he was very little* pup?

Wyrm: *incoherent through his sobs as he clings to him* I don’t want to know what’s in my book anymore! I don’t want to! I watched sotha sil skin nerevar alive! I watched vivec stab him! I saw Almalexia cut off his feet! It felt so real! It felt real!

Urag: shhhh… *gently hugs him close tucking him under the blanket* it was just a nightmare pup… it wasn’t real… *furrows his brow deciding it’s best to not press him for details while he’s like this but knowing this isn’t normal even for him* it can’t hurt you son… *gently strokes his face before removing his sons Pearl eye and his mechanical arm, placing both on his nightstand so Wyrm can sleep comfortably beside him, safe and sound*

Wyrm: *let’s his father remove them before resuming nuzzling into him for safety as if he were still a child* he kept begging me to stop, he kept calling me Seht, he spoke to me like I was sotha sil, like I was him, I didn’t want to do it, I didn’t!

Urag: *heart breaking seeing his son so distressed, wondering what could have possibly triggered this* shhh Wyrm, it’s okay son, it’s alright… *pats his hair and hugs him close, not knowing how to help the situation beyond just being present* nothing can hurt you while I’m here…

*Meanwhile*

Ancano: *quietly enters the Arcanum, unable to sleep and deciding to make it Wyrms problem… only to see his bedroom door wide open* hm?… *walks to it and peers in to see his bed a mess, and covered in notes and several books, with no little Pearl in sight* ……… *walks in and inspects the room quietly before looking at the blank notepad, then at the books* why was he so desperate to read this drivel? *picks up the 36 lessons of vivec before tossing it to the side and picking up Wyrms book* hm?… *opens it only to see what everyone else did, utterly intangible notes and writings in a language nobody can understand. And several blank pages at the front of the book* … *slides it into his robe and walks out quietly as if he was never there*

[grape-icing]

hi!! could you write a short story thingy between cg! roxy and regressor! dave? platonic ofc!!! i think roxy would act as a mother figure to dave!!! maybe dave comes over to roxys for a playdate for the first time, and he’s a little nervous to be so vulnerable around someone for the first time!! idk, you can take whatever creative liberty you want with it!! :)) thank you!!

HAIIII IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG!!! IVE HAD TESTING ALL WEEK AND I HAD NO IDEAS!!! SORRY IN ADVANCE IF ITS BAD!!! I'll also post this on ao3 :33333

Actual story!!

Dave was pretty nervous about John's doctor's appointment because he knew John would call a babysitter. Which was fine he supposed due to the fact he already told everyone about his regression but he hadn't been watched by anyone else before. Bluh!!! Even the thought of it made him anxious. Dave curled up next to John, filled with worry.

“Something worry bud?” John questioned the sudden movement of the younger boy.

“Uh no” Dave replied which was a lie because he didn't want John to get worried and potentially miss his appointment. Although now that Dave thought about it….

Well never mind, the mystery babysitter was here. Dave really hoped it wasn't someone in his family.

“Oh! That must be her.” John got up and raced towards the door.

“Hiya Roxy!” Dave was doomed, why did it have to be his mom? Sister? thing of all people, well at least it's not Dirk.

“Ok, so he knows where everything is and stuff. Uh, am I missing anything? Oh, his favorite juice is in the fridge. Shoot I'm already late! Okay got to go, bye Dave I love ya!” John quickly left.

“Hai Davey!” Roxy announced. Dave turned away.

“Oh um okay. Do you want to watch a movie or play or….uhm…do something?” Roxy questioned, trying to get him to do anything.

“No,” Dave said quick and bluntly.

“You don't wanna do…anything like at all? Not even a movie?” Roxy walked over and sat right beside him.

“I- uhm sure, I guess,” Dave replied not trying to hurt his mother's feelings. Dave didn't actually know if Roxy considered herself his mother but she didn't mind being called “Mom” so maybe.

“Good!! So whatcha wanna watch honey?” Roxy reached over to grab the remote.

“Uhm I'm not sure, maybe Octonauts? You can pick if you want though.” Dave said in a softer voice than earlier.

“Nah, Octonauts work!” Roxy quickly put the show on and wrapped an arm around Dave, which he wiggled and squirmed his way out of.

After around 20 minutes Roxy suggested they go outside and get some fresh air which Dave very nervously said yes to.

“Need any help getting your shoes on, baby?” Roxy asked while bending down to him.

“no” Dave stated. Roxy saw right through the lie and helped him tie his shoes.

“Uh m-mom,” Dave muttered.

“Hm? What is it pumpkin?” Roxy questioned as she finished trying the younger one's shoes.

“Nothing much. I was just wondering if it was hot outside.” Dave asked while standing up.

“Oh yeah, it's going to be very hot, perfect for playing!” Roxy said cheerfully while grabbing her purse to leave.

“Oh” whined Dave.

“Is something wrong muffin?” Roxy asked due to the tone of his voice. “If you don't want to play that's okay, we can get ice cream if you want!”

“I want um ice cream, please” Dave followed Roxy onto the front steps.

“Alrighty! We can totes do that, I think there's an ice cream place right around here.”

Roxy carefully held his hand the entire walk home, which Dave thought was nice. After about five minutes of walking, they made it to the ice cream parlor.

“Look! We're here!” Roxy bumped Dave on the shoulder to draw his attention.

“Mhm,” Dave quietly followed his mother over to the counter to order their ice creams.

“Okay I'll have one strawberry ice cream and, what do you want Dave?”

“Uhh cookies and cream please.”

After the two got their ice cream they started to walk back home.

“Hey Rox, do ya know um when dad is going to be home?”

“Yeah, he has to run some errands so it might be another hour or two. Don't worry though! Me and you will have loads of fun.” Roxy reassured him that the time would fly by and she'd be out in no time.

“It's okay if you don't want me to stay. I'm not mad I promise.” Roxy gently stoked his hair.

“N-no I don't want you to leave I just don't want you to uhmm never mind.” Dave quickly cut himself off before starting to try and speed-walk home.

“Dave baby slow down. You can tell me anything! I wouldn't say a peep to anybody, not even John!” Dave hit a full stop when she said that.

“Uhm well that was kinda it, I don't want you to go and talk about me to like, I don't know, Rose or Dirk?” Roxy turned to Dave and pulled him into a hug.

“I would never do that, but I can understand why you would think that. Hehe, I talk a bunch so it's reasonable.”

Dave and Roxy stood, embraced in that hug for at least a minute straight before going back to walking again.

Once the two of them returned to the house Roxy decided it would be best just to stay home due to the heat instead of playing outside. Roxy put Dave’s show back on before realizing he was probably still hungry.

“Hey sweet pea, you hungry?” Dave silently nodded. While Roxy went to cook him something, Dave slowly moved over to where he kept all of his little items but started to hesitate, finally, he picked up his bottle.

“Whatcha messing with Dave?” Roxy asked, coming into the room to check on him.

“Uh n-nothing?” Dave squealed out as he quickly shoved what he was holding behind his back.

“Are you sure? Because that didn't seem like nothing?” Roxy questioned as she got closer. “What’s behind your back, Dave?”

“Nothing like I said!” Dave said in an elevated tone, leaning away from her, trying to conceal what was behind him.

“Dude, I need to see what's behind you so I can make sure it’s nothing dangerous.” Roxy pulled his arms away from his back, which was surprisingly easy.

“Pumpkin if you wanted a drink you could have just asked. I'll bring it when I bring your food. I'll be right back!” Roxy placed a small kiss on his forehead and went back to the kitchen.

While Roxy was in the kitchen she quickly filled up his bottle with the apple juice in the fridge, Grabbed his food, and made her way back into the living room. When she got there she handed him the plate.

“Um, thanks” Dave muttered while eating a big spoonful.

“Of course!” Roxy answered.

“Oh, wait! Here’s your bottle, sweetie.” Roxy handed him his cup and sat down beside him. Dave mumbled something inaudible and shoved it where it couldn’t be seen due to him being embarrassed by it. Which obviously confused Roxy.

“You okay little dude? I saw you hiding your drink, any reason for it? if it’s because of me, you don't gotta worry, I don't care whatcha do as long as you’re not getting hurt or making a mess.” Roxy moved closer so she was basically right against Dave’s back, She gave him a small hug from behind. Dave leaned into her warm embrace and cautiously reached for his bottle, looking over at Roxy to make sure she wouldn't judge him or anything like that. Roxy planted a small kiss on his head as he finally started to drink his juice. After around twenty minutes Roxy pulled a blanket over him as soon as she realized he was asleep.

“Hey! I'm back!” John announced, getting cut off by a loud “shhh!!” from Roxy.

[m1d-45]

so. it’s very funny because last night i kept on being late and not seeing new asks until AFTER i sent in more shit so i didn’t see the good nights until after going a little ham so i would like to apologize for that my bad

again i am here. being so so normal. did i write this instead of sleeping? maybe! brain demanded and kept feeding me lines so here we go. i am unsure of how to feel about my writing so um! quality may be a little. idk!!

It takes a while to limp your way into the throne room, your hands and shirt stained with blood from when a polearm caught your side - but the pain and exhaustion you feel is nothing compared to the white-hot terror thrumming just beneath your skin. You didn’t want it to be true, you tried so, so hard to ignore the obvious signs from when you heard of another wearing your face, but denial will get you nowhere. Not when you’ve seen your own face distort beyond what is physically possible, heard your own voice saying such horrible things to you that you almost wanted to die, just to make it stop.

The only thing moving you forward right now is… well, it’s not courage, that’s for sure. You’ve been chased across seven nations, characters you’d loved turning on you with a lust for blood, and yet the way your stomach drops with each step you take now feels more overpowering than any fear you might have felt before. You keep going. This world, these people are worth the risk.

Blood drips behind you as you practically drag yourself through the entrance of the throne room, leaving a blue and starry trail behind you. It’s not triumphant, it’s not grand - how can it be when you’re tired and scared and in pain? - but it’s the best you can do.

“Oh, you’re still here,” the imposter says, sounding sickeningly human compared to the way its voice crackled and distorted the last time you two spoke. It raises a hand in response to the acolytes drawing their weapons, prompting them to halt. “Shame. I really hoped I wouldn’t have to deal with you anymore.”

You would love to respond with something cool, something that would shock the disgust right out of everyone’s eyes, but the best you can manage is a weak:

“I know what you are.”

It’s not quite courage that drives you forward, but this mix of fear - pain - hatred is enough to force the next words out of your throat.

“You fucking alternate.”

AND THEN I WANTED TO DO MORE BUT I GOT SLEEPY. so there you go. sorry for flooding your inbox with my brainrot, sorry for everyone who has no idea what is going on. in my defense. um. i have no defense - teddy anon

teddy don’t you DARE say sorry for dropping into my inbox

also you are incredible at writing, that was beautiful. i love the idea of reader going to teyvat to escape the alternates but NOPE they followed and now it’s a weird mix of denial and hate and fear- and maybe alternate!creator stops, mask faltering for a moment as they wonder if the jig is up- but no, their loyal acolytes simply grip their weapons tighter, the room crackling with elemental energy, and they smile as they recognize who’s won.

“does it matter, if i’m the one who’s led them to victory?”

and it’s ok. i should be the one saying sorry to those who followed me for sagau and got like. doom protagonist reader vs mandela catalogue. in terms of defense i have no defense.

[bobafettpussyindulgence]

ancient gods part 2 thoughts that literally no one asked for 

stone imps suck ass

i dont mind that all the new enemy types were reskins, but mechanically i didnt find them all that fun and in fact (with the exception of the shrieker zombies) i thought they all kind of ruined the flow of combat a bit

it’s definitely weird considering that one of the biggest criticisms people had about the base campaign is that combat was too prescriptive and there was only a one size fits all solution for each enemy (which is think is both untrue and unfair, i just think the game telegraphed that poorly at the beginning with the introduction of weakpoints + the cacodemon grenade swallow insta-stagger) 

stone imps suck major ass 

the final boss fight actually is my favorite boss fight in doom eternal +tag1/2, even though it made me very angry. take out the tyrant/baron/manucubus/pain elemental spawn he can summon in the last phase for no goddamn reason and i actually think it could be really fun (which is more than i can say for the final boss in tag 1)

glad that spirits didn’t really make a big return. they really ruin the flow of combat and there’s only ONE way to deal with them, which is a problem that doom eternal is perceived to have but didn’t actually have before the dlcs (as i mentioned above)

stone imps suck the biggest ass 

you could have replaced every story cutscene with a minute and a half of static and i wouldnt be able to tell the difference. it’s a shame because i think doom 2016′s story was actually pretty good for what it is, but eternal and its subsequent dlcs really just lost the plot completely. it doesn’t feel like it’s having fun with itself but when it tries to it feels like idk. redditor humor. 

the environments were really nice in the first two levels. the last level was kind of a letdown. i’d rather have the repetitive level design of 2016′s hell levels than that. it just felt pretty bleh, like a reskin of urdak

stone imps suck SO MUCH ass 

the music is great but i think i was too panicked for most encounters to really appreciate it so im gonna have to wait for youtube rips. hulshult and levy continue to kill it though and i think they’re both really great follow-ups to mick’s soundtrack. 

this one didn’t feel as buggy as part 1, but there’s still a big collision issue with this game. at least i didn’t get stuck on the walls as much as i did in part 1 (which actually led to me dying in a slayer gate and oh my god. oh my god fix the collision PLEASE)

oh yeah slayer gates are gone now? i like the escalation encounters, i think it’s a good way of combining standard encounters + slayer gates + optional/secret encounters. kinda bummed to lose slayer gates and i think that goes hand in hand with this expansion really just killing exploration entirely 

it’s a big shame the only extra things to find when exploring this time around were codex pages because at this point i dont even read them. they’re not as bad as 2016′s lore documents but i just am not invested in the worldbuilding they’ve been trying to set up at all. 

stone imps fucking suck ass btw 

[wizkiddx]

living and reviving II

yep when I said three parts I think I meant 4 oops

summary: an overdue conversation that has to happen - like it or not

warnings: cheating, swearing, pregnancy talk, lots more angst, think thats it?

tomhollandxreader

/////////////////////// prev

So with a new sense of dread and fear and complete and total isolation you uttered three single words before hysterically running away.

“Don’t follow me.”

Not now, not ever.

That had been three weeks ago.

And it still fucking hurt like hell.

It had ended up that Yamna had taken you back to hers, where you had stayed for a couple nights. During that couple of days, Tom had tried. He had tried to apologise, tried to explain, tried to fix things. But it just wasn’t that easy.

Whatever he said, it didn’t take back from the fact that he had in that moment meant it. So no amount of sorrys could ever take that back.

After everyone had realised just how serious their situation was, Tom had moved out of your shared flat - so you could at least be in the place you were comfortable. Afterall the nursery was built in your flat and clearly it was you doing all the baby stuff for the moment. Thankfully Yamna, having been cut loose so without job, offered to move in with you. Which was probably the only thing keeping you going.

Well, that and ben and jerrys ‘phish food’. Honestly the shop must think you’re running some sort of ice cream black market at the rate you’re getting through their tubs.

Everyone kept parroting that it wasn’t good for the baby. Too much ice cream . Too much heavy lifting. Too much stress.

And yes, it probably was. But that was out of your control . The stress and lack of man in the household meant you had to do the heavy lifting of shopping from the car up the stairs. Shopping meaning ice cream, which you only depended on so much because of the stress.

It was a vicious cycle of hell.

Even Yamna, the person you were relying on keeping you sane had started walking on eggshells. It was as though you were literally about to pop, she always had to have at least half an eye on you. You were even banned from locking the toilet door - just in case.

It felt like you were a captive animal, people kept coming to observe you, giving sad looks before gleeing the scene.

You hadn’t been sleeping well either. Of course, being 3 weeks of your due date didn’t help - but neither did the lack of Tom. In fact, for the first time since shit had hit the fan, you had actually been managing to get some decent sleep when Yamna knocked on your bedroom door, quietly calling your name.

“I’m asleep” Groaning, you pulled the covers further over your head, praying to god that she’d leave you alone. But of course that wasn’t happening, she just lightly chuckled before you felt the bed dip - she had perched on the edge… Toms side.

“You never normally sleep talk.”

“I’m never normally this sleep deprived.” She sighed, whilst you still stubbornly kept your eyes closed.

“I’m sorry I woke you…. but this is important.”

“What?” Almost grunting, you threw the covers down looking up at her in anticipation. That was another thing about pregnancy - you were always on high alert, always worried.

“Toms here.”

“Tell him to f off.” Quickly you stopped caring about what your bestmate had to say.

“He’s saying that he’s the little ones dad and that he deserves to be involved and…. and I think I might agree.”

“I deserve a boyfriend who stays loyal to me so clearly neither of us are getting what we want.” You weren’t angry at Yamna and snapping at her wasn’t the answer. And yet you still did it.

“Y/n….I love you and I am completely on your side. I just think that maybe, perhaps, you should at least manage to be civil before baby arrives. Otherwise… thats going to be a lot to deal with all at once.”

It was your turn to sigh, deep and heavy (or at least as deep as the baby let). Most infuriatingly she was right. The conversation had to happen at some point. With a baby there too it would only be even more traumatic.

“He’s here now?” It only dawned on you how broken you actually sounded when the words croaked out of you.

“Yeh hunny… I didn’t let him inside so he’s standing outside the door looking like a dickhead right now.” The image cheered you up a little, enough to sit up in bed and be wrapped in Yamna’s arms. Her actions said it all, she really only meant the best for you and knew how hard this would be. After a moment she leant back. “I almost considered calling the paps so they could get a picture and label him as a groveling dick.”

“You should of.” Of course you didn’t mean it, but the answer had you both laughing. It took a minute to calm down before she changed subject slightly.

“You want me to make myself scarce? I can hide in my room or go to the shops or-“

“Text the guy from the bar - you deserve a night off ‘babysitting Y/n’ duties.”

“I’m not babys-“

“Yes you are. Go out with him and have some fun, I’ll be fine.”

“You sure?”

“Yeh”

That was a bare face lie - but Yamna had been almost too good to you. She really really needed a break. Especially as the current plan was she’d be helping with the newborn too. Right now you wouldn’t have wished a baby on yourself - never mind your best mate.

“Okay, get ready then babe - but do it slowly, leave him waiting outside in the cold for as long as possible.”

“Obviously.” You laughed, hauling yourself out of bed, where she gave you one more encouraging hug before leaving.

After hearing Yamna leave, and brushing your hair and throwing on a new pair of trakkies and hoodie, you slowly walked towards the door. It felt as though impending doom were on the other side and every fibre of you wanted to scream and run the other way. But it just had to happen at some point. Why not now?

With a final sharp exhale, attempting to pull yourself together, you opened the door. Immediately your heart sank, seeing nothing. Had you really been that long? And even so, was a 10 minute wait enough for him to give up? You could already feel the hormonal pregnancy tears starting to spring, when a grunt drew your attention.

What you hadn’t considered was the fact Tom was ready to camp out, sitting on the floor beside your door. Springing to his feet, he seemed shocked you’d actually opened the door - makes two of you. When Yamna left she had told him you were coming, but seeing really is believing.

“Y/n! I-I… I wasn’t sure you were ever going to answer.”

“You and me both.” You replied dryly, still leaning on the door. “Do you er…. do you want to come in?” Again he seemed shocked, as though he wasn’t sure you meant it.

“Is that-that okay?” Shrugging you just nodded, stepping back so he could get in. He did pay half the mortgage afterall.

“You want a drink?” He quickly declined your offer, not vocally but instead rushing past you to the kitchen and turning the kettle on himself.

“Your the pregnant one. Go chill on the sofa, I’ll bring you a cuppa.”

And a bit taken a back by his forcefulness you followed instructions, from the sofa watching how effortlessly he danced round the kitchen. It wasn’t shocking, it was technically his kitchen too. But seeing him there felt so alien, almost transporting you back to much much simpler times. Seemed a lifetime ago.

After a couple of minutes, he rounded the sofa with a hot chocolate in one hand for you (because caffiene is bad for the baby) and a cup of Yorkshire tea in the other.

“So… how have you been?”

“Ate a lot of ben and jerrys” You answered without really answering, except he knew you all too well.

“That bad?” He sighed, scrubbing a hand over his brow “how about the baby?”

“I don’t tend to carry an ultrasound on me but she’s been keeping me up all night kicking - so normal I guess.”

“Thats good” He spoke before realising what he said. “Sorry no I um-I don’t mean it like that!” You all but laughed in the face of his flusteredness, only making the tips of his ears go pinker.

“I assume you had something to say and that you came here for a reason rather than just pity me?”

“I want to make things right Y/n - I-I mean your having my kid.”

“OUR kid”

“ Exactly! And-and I love you too and-“

“Bullshit” You may have murmured it under your breath but you had intended for him to hear.

“Oh come one Y/n, you know that!”

It was like the man was asking to be yelled at.

“Don’t sit there trying to patronise me! I THOUGHT i knew it but then I saw you all over another girl. So yes, I’m calling bullshit.”

“Ugh I… If your not going to even try to hear me out then…”

“Then what Tom? You gonna kick me out. I mean this is your flat after all! Maybe you’d like to dump the mother of your unborn child homeless on the street and forget about us - how’d that sound? I’m sure your fans would blindly applaud you.”

“Listen! Please would you just listen to me.” His voice was loud and tone harsh, making you flinch a little. Not because you were ever worried he’d hurt you - but how this wave of uncomfort shuddered through your body, baby even squirming in discontent. So focused on that you just nodded, shifting back into the sofa.

Tom had noticed your reaction and seeing you seemingly scared of him like that, well it broke his heart. Even more.

“Sorry I didn’t mean to shout, I just…. I really need to try and fix this.” He leaned closer, letting out a thankful breath when you just nodded, as if to say go on.

“I’ve really really missed you… these past couple of weeks I’ve never felt so gulity in my life. Not because of what I did! Well yeh that but-but more how much it hurt you and-“

“Fuck.”

You couldn’t help but let out that little curse of pain as a new wave of pain, which seemed to originate from your lower back, shuddered through you. Tom looked up from where his eyes had been nervously wringing his palms whilst he spoke. Rubbing a hand over your belly you shook your head and motioned for him to continue.

She was just kicking really really hard. Right?

“Uhm yeh so I just wanted to properly tell you everything that happened that night so at least we are on the same page? A-And I’m not going to try and use this an excuse but I had been drinking so-“

Seemingly baby disliked the end of that sentence too, causing another rippling wave to echo through your body, feeling as though a band was pressing tightly round your stomach. With another small curse it forced you to stand up, in the hope that’d ease her. Clearly she was as done with his shit as you were.

“Need a water.” You muttered, already waddling to the kitchen, where you heard Tom follow you immediately - like an inpatient dog.

“Y/n sit down I can-“

He was silenced by you freezing and grabbing his arm tightly - a physical contact he hadn’t been expecting from you.

“Tom… get your phone.” You spoke slowly, still not having dared to have moved an inch - fingers almost white from how tightly you were squeezing his forearm.

“Wha-are you-are you okay?”

“I think my waters just broke. Get the phone. Now.”

~~~ feedback is really appreciated + would love to know what u think as still in the process of writing so can be guided / helped by asks !!! ~~~

taglist: @maraudersandco @@minejungwoo @sippin-on-tea @thegirlintheswivelchair @lovehollandy12 @hollandlover19 @thefernandasantana @hunnybunimdun @hallecarey1@cedricdiggorysimpp @msmimimerton @hollandfanficlove @pandaxnienke @crossyourpeter @thegirlwiththeimpala @tom-softie @sunwardsss @spiitfiiires @radcloudenthusiast @ladykxxx08 @prancerrparkerr @wildxwidow @arctic-monkcys @ownbauer13 @tomhollandlol @marvelsbitch8 @peterr-parkourr @lizzyclifford13-blog @user1683 @elishi03

[chubbology]

Inertia

prompt: a man gains weight trying to get his ex-girlfriend back, but goes way too far and gets addicted to gaining

He hadn’t gone to the gym even once in ages.

After a year of singlehood, he wasn’t ashamed to admit anymore that he’d only really gone in the first place to impress women. Ironic, of course, since his ex had never been more than vaguely dissatisfied about his gym habit.

When they first started dating, he had love handles he hated and his thighs had been too thick. He assumed she dated him despite these flaws. Only after he lost weight to please her did he find out that it was his chub that caught her eye. It was bigger guys she was into. It was a lot of miscommunication. A lot of insecurity on his part, since what her preferences meant was that she wanted him to be a little heavy, and he couldn’t possibly accept that with his society-ingrained doctrines about attractiveness.

But those doctrines meant fuck-all now; he was eating a double cheeseburger in his car, helping it down with an orange soda, thinking about dessert. He was wondering if she’d be proud of him now that he’d gained thirty pounds. He wondered if she’d look at him with half-lidded eyes like she used to, if he put on another thirty. Fifty. Whatever.

His phone buzzes. He sits up straighter, belly swelling a little into his lap. It’s her.

Hey. My friend needs to sell her two tickets. I know it’s your favorite band. Interested?

The next text was a link to an information page about an upcoming concert. He’d been so disconnected lately, he hadn’t even heard about it.

Even though he wasn’t actually all that interested, he replied that he was, and they set a date to meet up the next week. Shit. He looked down at himself. If she were someone else, she might be repelled. But she wasn’t someone else…

He was hit with a brilliant, maybe brilliantly stupid, idea. It’s execution began with going right back through the drive thru.

In the days leading up to seeing his ex again, he ate almost constantly. Since he was only doing freelance online at the moment, his work didn’t get in the way of this. He let himself eat whatever he wanted, in amounts three times what his body craved. He pushed himself to a state of being constantly past full. She liked fat guys? Fine. Even if she still didn’t want anything to do with him, he wanted her to see what he could have been, if he hadn’t been such a gym-rat douchebag. If he’d let himself become a lazy, docile boyfriend like she wanted instead, weak and overweight.

It was hard, gaining a lot of weight in a week. The number on the scale didn’t go up as much as he expected, even though he’d eaten enough calories to gain twenty pounds at least. He compensated by showing up to their meeting spot wearing clothes that tightly hugged his body, which now had a good forty-ish pounds of fat clinging to it. Looking in the mirror before he left, he’d almost seen what she was into. His ass had gotten kind of wide and dumpy, but in a sexy way?

He was all nerves when she showed up looking healthy and cute and indifferent about him, holding the tickets in her hands. Almost indifferent. She definitely gave him a once-over, when she thought he wasn’t looking. He could tell she bit the inside of her lip.

“Well,” she said, meeting his eyes fearlessly. Were her cheeks a little red, or was that wishful thinking? “I’ll see you.”

“Really?” he blurted. “Kinda miss hanging out.”

She smiled and turned to leave. “Maybe.”

He went home and binged hard.

*

In contrast to how he grew too slowly in the week before meeting up with her, in the weeks afterward, he gained weight doubletime. Fat rounded him out as easy as if he were a swiftly filling water balloon, engorging his thighs and belly and ass and hips wide and heavy. He ate compulsively as his appetite skyrocketed, as cravings crushed his will to restrain himself. His budget was thrown out of whack as he spent his savings on pantry loads of unhealthy food. His clothes stretched and seams snapped as he struggled to fit in his largest clothes. He shopped in the plus sized section first for comfort, then by necessity.

All the while he could only think: I wished she was watching.

He started imagining her with him. In the car as he ate fast food. At the store as he bought new clothes. Walking beside him as he forced himself to get exercise.

“Slow down, big guy.” “No, I think you need one size bigger.” “Sweating already? You’re so out of shape.”

Why did he like it? Imagining her mocking him? Teasing him? Eyeing his body, fleshy and overfed.

The next time she texted, it was late at night, and his eyes were glazed watching television, eating huge spoonfuls of that miracle drug called Nutella. His belly swelled out of his shirt. His breasts and face were puffy. According to the numbers he punched into Google, he had long crossed the threshold of obesity.

How was the concert?

He stared at the words. This was it. Maybe his only chance. He replied: Didn’t go after all. Been feeling off lately.

To his (very manly) delight, this prompted more questions, and it became clear she wanted a real conversation. Was she thinking of him? Missing him like he missed her? He thought out every response with the careful focus of a rocket scientist. He wasn’t going to mess this up.

He didn’t seem to, and they texted into the early hours of the morning, catching up. Finally, finally she asked to meet up with him again, and - feeling more eager, a little reckless - he tapped out a disclaimer. Or to her, hopefully: motivation.

Just so you aren’t shocked when you see me, I’ve put on weight since I bought those tickets from you. I’m not sensitive about it or anything, but it’s a lot. So here’s a fair warning.

He held his breath as he waited for her reply. Held his breath. Held it…

Oh. Really?

Like before, they set a time the following week. This time, to get coffee. No big deal.

He knew he had more than fulfilled his little scheme of putting on weight to catch her attention, and he could push the breaks now, but he felt helpless against his inertia. At this point, he’d cultivated half a dozen habits that had his weight steadily rising, and he couldn’t just turn them off. If he so much as thought of eating less, his whole body seized up in fearful anticipation and unhappiness, and he found himself cramming a couple moonpies into his mouth just to calm down.

He gained another six pounds between their text conversation and their coffee date. He felt so out of control, so out of shape, so out of line with the standards of popular society that he felt oddly…free. In a way, he felt free of anxious self-consciousness as he heaved himself out of his car and waved at her through the coffee shop window. She was sitting in a corner at a table for two. Despite his warning, she looked a little shocked.

When he sat down across from her, his huge ass hanging off the ends of the seat, she appeared to inhale deeply. Her expression was inscrutable.

“You weren’t kidding,” she said.

Blushing, he supposed he deserved a bit of tactlessness, for the tactless way he broke up with her. “What? Oh. Yeah, no. I wasn’t.”

She sipped her coffee, eyes flicking between his flabby chest and his flabby face. In a low tone that no one else would hear, she said, “What happened? For you to get fat as fuck.”

He opened his mouth and closed it. This wasn’t how he was expecting this to go. “Well. I’ve been working from home, stressed out. I let myself go and…” He trailed off when he realized her eyes were cold. No - so hot they seemed cold, like his shower water when turned to the highest setting.

“Is this because of me?” she asked, cutting to the chase. She crossed her legs, now openly surveying him. “Did you decide it was okay to gain a hundred pounds because you thought I’d be into it?”

He was speechless. He swallowed.

“Well? Do you want me back that badly? Ever since I saw you last time, all chubbed out, I’ve been thinking maybe I should give you a second chance.”

“Um.”

“But I don’t know…” She shrugged, but a smirk was hiding just behind that indifferent frown, and he wanted. He wanted her forgiveness, whatever that meant. “How about you gain a hundred more and we’ll go on a real date? Sound good? You’re not the only fat guy out there.”

She was full-on grinning now, and he missed her little games like this. He could play them, too.

“Maybe, but I bet I’m the only guy who’s gotten this fat for you,” he said. She was immediately affected by this, and he licked his lips. “You really want to wait to see me a hundred pounds bigger than this, or do you want to stick around to watch?”

Even quieter, she said, “You saying you like gaining weight? How convenient.”

So she still doubted him. He put out his hands for her to see. “Just look. Look at how fat my hands are. I can’t…” And finally his composure cracked a little. “I can’t stop. I couldn’t stop if I wanted. Even if you never talk to me again, I’m gonna gain weight.”

Any playfulness was gone now from her. She looked like she wanted him, too. “Hmm. Maybe we should go before you break that poor chair, huh?”

He blushed again. God, he was getting docile. “I’m not that bad,” he muttered. But she gave him a cruel grin. She hadn’t entirely forgiven him. “You will be.”

And he knew then: he was doomed. He was already a little bit into his own heaviness, and she was going to take that feeling and amplify it tenfold. She was going to enable every bad habit he had, watch him flounder under his increasing size and become weaker under layers and layers of fat until he could barely lift a two pound dumbbell.

He knew she wanted this to happen, and maybe he’d broken up with her before because he’d been afraid.

But he wasn’t anymore.

“Let’s go then,” he said.

*

Thank you to the reader who commissioned this work!

I'd love to write more. Check me out <3 etsy.com/shop/Chubbology

[corruptedconfessions]

I am sliding in to request some yandere incubus Kirishima 👀. Maybe dubcon with a bit of a resistant darling who he coaxes and persuades into fucking him. Maybe uses incubus powers to have her be more willing and overstimulates her like crazy. Go as wild as you want, I don’t mind 👀

A full month and 5.3k words later...it is finished.  From now on if anyone wants an example of my writing at its best (and most selfishly self indulgent) I shall send them this fic. 

Warnings for this one: Dub con, drugging (kinda? magical drugging), some violence/blood mention, Delusional Yan Kiri at its finest. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The house was still as he hovered outside of your window, peering inside carefully. You were normally asleep by this time…The redhead practically vibrated with excitement as he slipped his claws under your window, slowly pushing it up. He had broken the lock several months ago when he had first caught your scent, peering through your window and finding you in the midst of a wet dream, desperately rubbing your thighs together in your sleep as you gasped. You were just so tempting he couldn’t help himself from slipping inside and eating you up~

You had been so beautiful that night, arched out under the moonlight gasping and twitching around him. Every meal before you suddenly felt so lacking. He may have gotten a little…over excited and watched with guilt as you struggled to get through the next day, completely exhausted after how much he had fed off of you. Even despite the guilt he felt, he couldn’t help but feel a deep yearning towards you, the desire to take even more.

He had never felt the urge to eat the same meal twice before you. Yet he found himself returning to you night after night, every time hunger pains shot through him, whenever he felt his own magic and energy starting to fade yours was the first face that popped into his mind. He had tried to go to other food sources but they always felt…lacking. Bland and unseasoned, their noises and fluids did nothing to excite him the way yours did. He was left full and energized, fed to the brim after desperately taking and feeding on his new virgin meals, but it always left him antsy and unsatisfied, haunted by the memory of your scent, your taste, just you.

It had gotten to the point where he was…touching himself. Masturbating! At the thought of you! The shame was so deep he had wanted to rip off his wings and tail, ashamed that a high class Incubus like him would become so desperate over some random little human that he would lower himself to self pleasure was…horrifying to say the least.

He took a deep shuddering breath just at the memory of those dark times as he glided further into your room, letting your scent surround him as he purred softly. Your scent already had the stress from those memories melting away, leaving him feeling fuzzy and relaxed, as it should! His mate should calm him~

Mate…just the thought of the word had him warm and giddy inside. It had taken him weeks to realize what all the feelings he had meant, you smelling and tasting so good, he was left unable to feed properly. He almost felt ashamed that he had made you wait so long before he realized! Oh, he hoped you would forgive him! What was he thinking, of course, you would! The two of you were destined for each other of course!

Oh, it was so exciting! You would be only his to hold, his to touch! Your small, fragile mortal body would curl up against his, warm and soft against him, arching and nuzzling into his touches like a good little girl~ He would sweep you up into his arms, being praised as your manly hero as he takes you away from your pathetic human world! No one would be able to stop him or deny him of his claim.

He would kill them if they tried.

His hand was trembling slightly with excitement as he reached out towards your bed, pulling your blankets aside as he crawled into the bed, inhaling deeply as he let your scent wrap around him.

Oh…He was so giddy thinking of all the things he could do with you now! He had always dreamed of having his own little mate to call his~ Someone made to please him, to love him, to be with him. Every inch of you from your head all the way down to the tips of your toes was built to be perfect for him~ Would you feel the same about him? Already he ached for you, ached for your touch, as many Incubi did when they found their mates, but you were human. Still, he liked to think that you were just as drawn to him as he was to you.

He could already picture it, you looking up at him, teary eyed and sleepy, begging for him to crawl into your bed, wrap you up in his arms and wings and hold you so you could sleep. You would beg for him so prettily, whimpering that you can’t sleep without him. He would wrap you up tight in his arms, carry you to the bed and ravish you until you couldn’t stay awake anymore~ He gasped softly nuzzling your pillow, breathing in hard as he purred softly. How would he do it?

Maybe he’d bury himself between your thighs, lapping and sucking at your dripping cunt, drinking your juices and working you through orgasm after orgasm until you have no choice but to pass out from the pleasure. Or maybe he’d stuff you full of his cock, rocking slowly up into you, drinking up every noise of pleasure as he makes love to you; tenderly bringing you to completion as you stayed limp and submissive under him, falling asleep while still rolling in the pleasure he gave you.

You would be so good for him wouldn’t you? Let him take you over and over, let him please you and bring you to the heights of pleasure. You would never touch another ever again…too desperate and needy for him, so perfect for…

He moaned low and deep, his hand dragging over his dick that was straining hard against his loose fitting pants. Every nerve in his body felt on edge, even just the brushing of fabric against his skin sending shockwaves of pleasure through his entire body. Fuck…He needed you so bad.

He couldn’t stop the small unmanly whimper that came from him as he tugged his pants down just enough for his member to pop out, the cold air hitting it leaving him shuttering hard. His teeth ached, begging to sink into your sensitive skin, to claim you, mark you up as his. He had never felt like this felt so…desperate.

It was addicting.

You did this to him…made him feel. Something he had always chased, desperate for the escape from the apathy that came with his cursed existence, doomed to forever chase the hunger and high of feeding off the pleasure of those who could feel. Yet here you were giving it to him freely. It was so addicting, to have all these feelings, towards you!!

He could never go back to the way it was before. He wouldn’t let it go back. He would kill anyone who tried to take you away from him, who tried to take this away…

He groaned, his entire body trembling all the way down to the tip of his tail as he slowly wrapped his fist around his cock, pumping it in his clawed hand. He could already imagine stuffing you full, coating you inside and out with his cum, claiming you so good no one would ever even question who you belonged to.

Oh, he couldn’t wait any longer! He wanted so badly to be inside you, cock nestled between your walls, your cunt squeezing down around him as his mouth and hands dragged over your soft skin. Already he could picture his claiming mark painted on your skin…

Something was nagging at him, an itch deep in the back of his brain as he swiped his thumb over his cock, huffing your scent as he pressed his face deeper into your pillow. He was missing something but he was too drunk on your scent, too focused on the build to his release to pay attention to the alarm bells blaring in his brain.

At least until he heard the bedroom door creak open followed by a frightened shriek.

“What the hell are you doing in my house?!”

He panicked, flailing as he spun around and sat up at the same time, staring at you wide eyed. Fuck! He had gotten so caught up in his fantasy he hadn’t even realized you weren’t in the bed, which meant you clearly weren’t asleep.

“I-I um, oh man I didn’t mean for you to meet me like this…”

You stared at him in confusion, eyes slowly dragging down until they locked onto his member, hard and leaking against his stomach. Your face immediately flushed hot, a startled squeak coming from you. Despite his panic as he tumbled out of your bed, clawed feet hitting your floor with loud clicks that just seemed to frighten you even more. He couldn't help the curl of amusement that swirled in his gut over the fact that you had immediately averted your eyes. Humans were always such silly things, so shy about sex and bits. Incubi were much more…open. Something you were going to have to get used to since he had no plans on hiding his dick away from his mate. Hell, the only reason he wore pants is because he thought they looked hella manly and cool! Like those famous actors from human movies! But now that he had a mate, he couldn’t imagine having something stopping him from just immediately taking you whenever and wherever he wanted, even if it was only for a second.

“Don’t be mad! I know im a bit late but I promise I’ll make it up to you~”

He calmed himself, grinning at you as he held his arms out as if asking for a hug as he advanced on you. You found yourself stumbling back as you stared at him in horror. He looked like something straight out of a horror movie, skin dark and reddened like blood, blackened horns jutting out and twisting around his head grotesquely, with every move the skin stretched over them almost seemed to pulse slightly as his slitted eyes roamed your body with a shamelessly large grin. Disgust and fear curled in your stomach as jagged sharp teeth were revealed to you, tapering off into sharp points just like the claws that spurted from his hands and feet. You could see a tail sway behind him, brushing the bottoms of large stretched out wings that were already curling towards you, stretching out as you stumbled back.

What…was he? For the briefest of moments you had thought it was the man from your dreams, warm and handsome as he fucked you, stuffed you full and left you shaking and crying for more. Every night you dreamt of him you woke up feeling sore but sated, your entire body aching but feeling so warm, the flashes of red hair and a bright smile still behind your eyelids. Warm moans and sweet praises still echoing faintly in your ears. This…thing in front of you was far from him.

“Stay the fuck away from me!”

You spun around, grabbing the door frame as you tensed, trying to run. Run where though? To the phone? Out the door? Should you scream for help? Who would believe you if you told them this this…demon was in your house, jerking off in your bed?

You had just barely made it out the door, feet sliding across the wood floor and nearly tripping you up when he moved too. In a flash he was through the door, behind you, arms wrapping around your waist and lifting you off the floor. You hadn’t even seen him move from his spot standing next to your bed.

“Let go of me! You sick fuck! Pervert! Help!”

You screamed kicking and flailing in his arms as he easily held you up off the floor. You tried elbowing his head, biting, scratching, hitting him in any way you could with your back pressed tightly against his chest and strong arms restraining you by your waist. He just laughed brightly as you hit him, any strikes just bouncing off his hard skin as he turned around to walk you back to your room.

“Feisty! I like that!”   

Rage filled your chest when he laughed at your attempts to free yourself. He was left unaffected while you were left throbbing in pain, every hit feeling like you were trying to punch a boulder. It was hopeless attacking him, it was clear he was stronger than you. So you did the only thing you could think to do.

You grabbed onto the door frame as he walked through, clutching it hard enough it hurt, refusing to let go even when he tugged you lightly. The bright grin that had been plastered on his face faded slightly, and you took that victory and clung to it, clutching the door frame tighter.

”Come on, don’t be like that. I know you want to play hard to get but I don’t want to hurt you. Look, you’re hurting yourself. Let go.”

You clung tighter, ignoring the rough wood digging into your palms hard enough that you were sure you would have slivers and cuts when you did let go. You didn’t care.

“Hard to get?! I'm not playing anything! Let go of me!”

You twisted trying to kick him again, lips curling into a snarl as he sighed at you. He shifted you in his hold, one arm unwinding from your waist just to hook under your thighs as he stepped closer, holding you firmer against his chest.

“You’re just nervous~ Don’t worry, Im sure any mortal would be, you probably don’t understand it completely yet, do you?~ I’ll help you relax~”

Understand what? Did the man have some sort of delusional fantasy about you? Anxiety filled you as you squirmed in the new grip as best as you could, trying to shove him away without letting go of your deathgrip on your door. You opened your mouth to snap at him, argue even more, kick and scream, anything so he would let go of you when a sweet scent started pouring off of the beast. You were breathing hard, both from the yelling and fighting, you got a large lungful of the smell before you could even register it was there.

The effects were immediate. Your head spun hard, hard enough you had to squeeze your eyes closed to stop the way the room suddenly spun hard, your entire body instantly falling limp in his arms.

“There you go~ Much better…”

You forced your eyes open again once everything stopped spinning so hard, staring up at the demon holding you with wide confused eyes. What did he do to you? He had shifted you so he was cradling you bridal style, you reached up to push at his chest, to push him away. You tried at least, your movements were slow, your body feeling weak. You pressed your hands against his chest, but you couldn’t find the strength to shove at him, to resist the jolts of pleasure that shocked you when you touched him.

“Easy there~ You might rile me up even more.”

You felt your face grow hot as he grinned down at you, ripping your hands away from his chest through pure will alone. Your cheeks burned  even hotter when he chuckled down at you, sitting down on your bed and turning to settle you down in his lap.

You shook hard as he wound his tail around your waist, tugging you until you were in a position he liked, large hands pressing against your stomach and sliding down your thighs, exploring your body, your skin in a way that felt so familiar…like he had done it before. You felt painfully aware of how his chiseled chest felt pressed against your back, how in this position, with your legs spread wide to try and straddle his thick thighs you could feel his hard on brushing up against your panties. You could feel your tummy flip as your cunt twitched, clenching down on nothing with every brush against your clothed heat.

“Please don’t hurt me…”

You were panting hard, desperate panicked breaths just proving to intoxicate you further, the sweet scent pouring off of him twisting around your senses and filling your head up. Every breath you took drained more of your fight out of you, panic and fear slowly being replaced with something…warm. Something sweet. You couldn’t bring yourself to push him away or thrash and fight like you were before. You felt disconnected from your body, willing it to move but you couldn’t manage more than the weak twitches of your fingertips and toes. You wanted to jump, pull away, do anything. Shamefully you noticed you were getting wet, soaking through your panties as your entire body tingled, arousal coiling tight in your gut.

“Oh, no, no, sweetie~ I’d never hurt you…Well, not unless you wanted me to.”

He grinned down at you, sharp and dangerous, his jagged teeth glinting under the moonlight that poured in from the open window.

You were panting hard, every weak gasp for air just proving to drunken you even further as you breathed in his scent, unable to stop yourself from slumping against his body. You trembled mewling weakly as his claws trailed down your skin, even just the soft scrape of his claws against your skin sending jolts of pleasure straight to your throbbing cunt. You jolted against his chest when his fingers finally pressed flat against your abdomen, claws easily hooking under your panties, hand sliding in to cup your privates fully.

“Good girl~ So wet for me~”

You trembled in his arms, flushing bright red when his hand was quickly coated in your fluids, hyperaware of the feeling of it slowly dripping out of your throbbing sex. You were painfully focused on his touch as his middle finger dipped between your lips, rubbing at your clit and entrance all at once, smirking as you jolted hard, a loud startled moan bubbling from your chest before you could stop it. You shuttered in his arms, whimpering as you arched back against him as he kept moving, rubbing at you as a deep growl vibrated through his chest.

“That’s it~ Good girl~”

You gasped, keening softly as he pulled his hand out of your underwear, making sure to drag his finger across your clit the entire way. Immediately his hands hooked under your bare thighs, smearing your juices across your skin as he lifted you up. 

“Let's get you out of these~”

He purred as he maneuvered you, easily holding you up with one hand as he dipped one clawed finger under the band of your panties, easily shredding through the fabric and tossing it to the side. You gasped whimpering as cold air finally hit your heated flesh. God...it felt like you were burning up. You could feel wetness dripping out of you, coating your thighs and dripping down onto his cock. You wanted to feel shame, fear, but your thoughts were too fuzzy, too consumed by the overwhelming lust that filled your entire body. 

“Now you’re getting into it, such a good girl~ My good little mate...Fuck you’re so soaked for me~”

You shivered moaning softly at his deep voice in your ear as he picked you up yet again, moving you until you were face down on the bed, hips propped up so he could grind his swollen cock against your dripping cunt. You found yourself drooling into your mattress as you desperately tried to rock back against his cock with your limited mobility. Fuck...you just...needed. You whined high and loud, frustrated as he chuckled down at you, his claws brushing down your back, leaving goosebumps in their wake as he cooed down at you. 

“Be patient. I’ll give you what you need...”

The sweet smell got even stronger as he leaned over you, pressing his chest against your back, cock rubbing between his thighs as his hands moved up to cup your breasts. You found yourself melting into the touch, panting and mewling weakly as he rolled your nipples between his fingers, claws leaving shallow scratches across your skin. Even that felt good…

“Such a good mate! Look at you, so gorgeous...I could eat you forever, you know~”

He purred nipping at your ear as he drank up your sweet pleasured cries, rocking his hips between yours as he thrust blindly between your thighs. Low grunts and groans were panted out right in your ear as he rut against your pussy, blindly searching for your entrance. 

“Gonna fill you up so good...fill you full of my seed. Make you mine!”

He growled his cock bumping against your hole, nudging against it before sliding past. Growling again he slowly pulled back, keeping his hands around your stomach as he lined himself up before thrusting into you. Claws pricked at your stomach, drawing small beads of blood as he forced you to take him all the way to the base in one thrust. 

You cried out, trembling hard as you clamped down around his cock as he stuffed you full. Your brain was telling you it should hurt, you shouldn’t’ve been able to take him like that, but all you could think about was the waves of pleasure rolling through you as you moaned. It was like you were molded to his cock, made to take him, made to be filled like this. The overwhelming feeling of wholeness made your head spin as pleasure danced along your spine. 

“You feel so good around me, baby~ I knew you were made to take me like this...that very first time your pretty little cunt wrapped around my cock, I knew I loved you.”

He gushed eagerly, voice rough in your ear as he rambled between moans, rocking his hips inside of you. First time…? What did he mean by-

You didn’t have time to register that fully, let alone ask him. He pulled out, cock dragging against your walls as you twitched and clenched around him before immediately thrusting back in, leaving you arching back against his chest, crying out for him. 

“You’re so tight~ It’s like you never want to let me go~ You must love me a whole lot, don’t you, baby?”

He growled happily in your ear as he started a rough and brutal pace, hips slapping against yours, the force of each thrust hard enough you found yourself jolting forward, only held in place by the iron grip he had around your stomach. 

He fucked you like he was making a claim, the wet sounds of your pussy clenching around him with every thrust filling the room along with his grunts and growls and your desperate pleasured cries. All you could do was hold on, your hands balled into fists as you clung to the sheets below you as waves of pleasure rolled over you, unable to think of anything but Kirishima. Every breath you took was his scent, all you could feel was his cock thrusting deep inside of you, his chest pressed against yours, the way he was kissing and nipping at your jaw. 

You didn’t even realize he had never told you his name, the very one you were whimpering. 

“Look, baby~ I'm right here.” 

You could feel the toothy grin against the back of your neck as a large hand pressed against your stomach, pushing hard enough you could feel every single thrust all the more. You sobbed in pleasure torn between grabbing his hand and ripping it away from your stomach and pushing it harder against it. Anything to keep the pleasure dancing behind your eyes. 

You weren’t sure how long you stayed like that, long enough that your throat felt raw, that your neck and shoulders ached with the bruises and marks he had left behind. Your nipples felt rubbed raw and sensitive. Everything blurred together, you were left limp and submissive in the demon’s arms, as he fucked you, snarling into the back of your neck. Compliments and praises were still raining down on you but they rolled off of you before you could even begin to process them. All you could think about was that heat coiling in your belly, you wanted to cum so badly. You whimpered desperately clenching down around him as you bucked your hips backwards, trembling hard when he snarled, thrusting his hips back inside you hard enough you actually found yourself sliding forward. 

“Shit, I’m close, baby...Are you going to cum with me?”

His voice was warped, deep and gravely, sounding harsher, darker than before. It wasn’t a voice that any human could ever hope to have. Still you whined high in your throat, nodding desperately, anything! You just wanted to cum so bad! Every time you got close, teased with that release it danced away from you, denying you of it. Not this time.

You nearly sobbed in pleasure as he started thrusting harder, hips stuttering as his cock pulsed hard inside of you. It only took one...two...three thrusts before he was roaring, the sound loud enough it vibrated through your body, your ears ringing as he came. He kept thrusting as he spilled inside of you, cum spilling out your hole around his cock and flooding down your thighs. He kept thrusting hard inside of you until he grabbed your hips with both hands, yanking you back onto his cock as he thrust as deep as he could. You seized up, screaming as you came, vision whiting out as you spasmed around his cock, drool spilling down your chin as your eyes rolled back. Wave after wave flooded through you, leaving you shaking and sobbing through the pleasure, immediately falling limp like a marionette with its strings cut the second it started to fade. You could hear his and your heavy breaths filling the otherwise silent room, feel the cum dripping down your thighs and pooling around your knees. 

He waited until you both had caught your breaths, still shaking and sweaty against each other's bodies before he suddenly lunged down, teeth sinking into your shoulder. You screamed in agony as sharp fangs sunk into your skin, tearing through your flesh. The grip around you tightened as he held you still, slurping and lapping at the blood that flowed heavily from the wound.  

You dropped to the mattress the second he pulled away, hanging limply in his hold as he slowly set you down. It felt like your very life had been sucked out of you, leaving you weak and confused, unable to navigate the maze of your own mind through the fog of pleasure and lust and now pain that had filled it. Black crept around the edges of your vision as everything started to blur together. Your eyes felt so heavy...

“Hey...None of that now. Not yet.”

You whined low in your throat as he grabbed your hair, making your neck arch back as you blearily blinked up at him, your shoulder throbbed hard, protesting the new position as it pulsed in pain, blood oozing out of the wound slowly. Your vision was reduced to shadows and movements, watching as the blurry outline of the demon sank his fangs into his own thumb, pulling away darker. The same dark blur that covered his fangs dripped slowly down his hand. He slowly lowered it to your lips, thumb slipping into your mouth. You tried to cringe back as a heavy metallic taste filled your mouth, but the hand entangled in your hair prevented you from moving an inch. Instinctively you swallowed down the fluid that flooded your mouth, cringing even more as it coated your throat uncomfortably and filled your senses. You cried out pitifully around his thumb even as you suckled on it, wanting to squirm away but unable to find the energy to do so. 

“Shhh~ I know. You’re okay.”

His thumb slipped from your mouth, hand letting go of your hair, finally letting you fall limply to your mattress. Relief filled your body as you finally relaxed, aching from head to toe, faintly you could still feel your pussy throbbing with every beat of your heart. Your eyes slid closed, fully believing the hell that you had just been put through was over.

Of course you were wrong. 

It started small, a soft tingling in your back, slight warmth that you ignored due to the overwhelming heat of the demon still draped over you. You could still feel his gaze boring into you, waiting. You ignored him, pressing your face harder against the mattress below you, determined to either stay there until he left or you suffocated. 

At least until your back started burning. The subtle heat from before was gone, replaced with an inferno tearing apart your lower back, burning through your muscles and skin. Faintly you could hear agonized screaming somewhere far away, it took you a moment to realize that that was you screaming. You couldn’t focus on it, though, the pain leaving your mind floating as tears streamed down your face, chest heaving for air. 

And then...his voice cut through it all. Deep and rumbling through your ear it was like a soothing balm across the flames that were eating you alive. 

“Shh~ Just accept it, baby~ Don’t fight it. I know it hurts, just relax...It’ll be over soon~”

Your whimpers were muffled as he leaned back, claws dragging slowly across your lower back. You screamed again, agony shooting through you as he touched them, pain hitting your consciousness like a bus. You twisted in place as best you could, weakly trying to turn around to swat away at his touch, only to freeze at what you saw. 

The demon's face was twisted into a menacing grin, eyes practically glowing with delight as his claws dragged down your back, pain rocking you to your core. All you could see was a vague black shape on your back, similar to the one that covered the demon’s arm. Everything was too blurry to make out the details, pain and darkness made the edges of your vision fuzzy. 

“You’re finally all mine~”

His voice was soft, warm, filled with so much joy and happiness it didn’t fit him, it didn’t fit the situation you were in. Your ears were ringing, stomach clenching hard. You felt like you were going to throw up. The darkness that had been creeping along the edges of your vision started spreading. 

The last thing you saw was pointed sharp teeth grinning down at you, tracing over your mark with a dark possessive glint to his eye. 

You were finally all his. 

[writethelifeyouwant]

Red

Summary: Y/N has been having an infuriating dry spell in the love department lately, thanks to lockdown, and her roommate Jensen is getting fed up with her attitude. So, he lets her in on a little secret…

Pairing: Danneel x Reader Rating: 18+ Tags: female masturbation, talk of male masturbation, phone sex, dirty talk, praise kink, light degradation, lockdown was hard on singletons but great for phone sex operators Word Count: 4.5k Created for: @anyfandomgoesbingo - Sex Hotline AU | @spnkinkbingo - Tribbing

A/N: Requested by @danneelsmain - hope this lived up to your expectations babe! I haven't written Danneel before but I really enjoyed writing this ❤️

“Yes... yes... yesyesyes–”

“Hey, Y/N!” Bang, bang, bang! “Hurry up in there will ya? I’m dyin’ here,” Jensen jiggled the doorknob to no avail, and Y/N was incredibly thankful she’d remembered to lock it this time.

I’m dying here, Y/N thought to herself, pulling the shower head from between her legs with a frustrated huff, the water swirling down the drain carrying the fading vestiges of her almost-orgasm with it. She had been so close. Bang! Bang! Bang!

“Just a minute!” she shouted, frustration tipping over into anger. The knob on the faucet was twisted to the ‘off’ position with unnecessary violence, and the shower curtain was attached at one less ring than it had been half an hour ago when it was yanked open to settle against the back wall of the tub.

Bang! Ban–

“Seriously, Jensen?!” Y/N barely had the towel secured around herself before she threw open the door, hastily ducking to avoid Jensen’s knock-in-progress.

“Thank fuck.” Jensen danced around Y/N and shoved the door shut, sending Y/N slipping across the tiles on her still-wet feet and locking her on the other side. The clearly audible hiss of Jensen relieving himself leaked through the door and Y/N growled in frustration, aiming a kick at the door before stomping down the hallway to her room.

He couldn’t have waited ten more seconds…

It had been bad enough that lockdown got them all stuck at home with no possibility of one night stands, or follow-up booty calls to keep her sex drive in check, but now Y/N was having an even bigger problem. She hadn’t been able to get herself over the finish line for at least two weeks, and she had no earthly idea as to why. Y/N was beginning to think that regular orgasms were part of the reason that she was usually nice to be around, because right now she felt like she was one bad joke away from stabbing somebody.

And that someone was likely to be Jensen.

Tucked up into the corner of the couch was Y/N’s standard position these days. She wasn’t sure what was playing on the TV, something as mindless as she felt right now.

“Budge up.” Jensen hit her feet and flopped back gracelessly on top of them without giving her the chance to move them.

“Ow, asshole!” A pillow whipped through the air and collided squarely with the side of Jensen’s face.

“What is your problem lately?”

“You, clearly,” Y/N snapped, pulling her knees into her chest defensively. Jensen raised a single eyebrow, giving her a pointed look. “No, it’s not you,” Y/N admitted, letting some of her aggression seep out of her frame with her words. “Sorry.”

“What’s up?”

“Nothing, it’s fine.”

There was a stiff silence between them, Jensen waiting for Y/N to break and answer his question and Y/N knowing that she didn’t want to talk about this with Jensen but not seeing a way out of the conversation. Jensen had an irritating habit of getting her to open up about things she never planned on telling people – like the fact that she was gay. And now he was about to hear far more about her sex life than she ever wanted to share with someone of the male species.

“I’m, um,” her cheeks were on fire as she glanced up to see Jensen looking back at her with concerned curiosity. “I’m… having a problem,” she finished lamely.

“Okay…”

“I can’t… Do you ever–” Y/N choked on the words every time they tried to bubble through. “So… um, it’s– it’s been a while.” She saw comprehension flash over Jensen’s freckled face a moment later.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“You know PornHub has a whole section for lesbian shit, right?” Another pillow hits him in the face. “Okay, okay, ow,” Jensen rubs his jaw in exaggeration. “But seriously, it’s been a while for everyone. You just gotta take business into your own hands.”

“You don’t think I’ve been doing that?” Y/N hissed, unconsciously checking around them as if someone else was in their apartment who might overhear.

“Well then what’s the problem?”

“I haven’t like,” Y/N made a variety of nonsequitous hand motions that had no bearing on the word ‘orgasm’ but Jensen seemed to get the message.

“How long?” he cringed.

“Like, almost three weeks? And it’s not like I haven’t been trying like, everything, I just… can’t,” she shrugged helplessly. “Has this kind of thing ever happened to you? Is there something like, physically wrong with me?”

“No, no, I’m sure there’s nothing wrong with you,” Jensen rushed to reassure her, patting her leg awkwardly. “This kind of thing happens all the time.”

“So it’s happened to you too?” Hope shone from Y/N’s face that maybe she wasn’t doomed to a life empty of sexual pleasure.

“Well… no, not exactly.” Y/N’s shoulders drooped, hopes slashed.

“How are you staying so sane?” Y/N accused. “You used to be with a different girl every few days before all of this.”

“Hey! I was not,” Jensen was mock offended but Y/N could tell he was also a little proud. “And I’ve, uh… I’ve got my sources,” his eyes twinkled mischievously as he answered her question.

“Jensen Ross Ackles, have you been sneaking out behind my back!”

“No,” he rolled his eyes, “nothing like that.” Jensen pulled out his phone and started scrolling through the screen as Y/N watched.

“Jen, if you’re trying to show me porn, I’m good. Don’t need to see what you get off to,” Y/N shuddered at the thought. A text beeped on her phone a second later, Jensen’s name popping up on the screen.

“That’s my source,” he explains and she opens the message to see a 1-800 number, next to the word Red.

“Red?”

“Red.” Jensen confirmed with a wicked grin, nodding sagely.

Y/N could not believe she was about to do this. She looked down at the number on her phone screen, ready to dial as soon as she pressed the little green button. Jensen’s assurances echoed in her head. Best phone sex I’ve ever had… she actually gets off with you, she’s not just faking it… sounds so hot, and her body is killer in her profile pic. Admittedly, the picture he’d shown her had been really fucking sexy. A slender girl in small red panties and unfairly pretty breasts cradled in a satin bra covered in little hearts, dark red hair pinned up around her face in a vintage style.

Before she could talk herself out of it again, Y/N pressed dial and held the phone up to her ear. It rang a few times before connecting to an automated menu, and Y/N was secretly relieved she wouldn’t have to ask an operator if she could speak to ‘Red’.

Thank you for calling the Sugar Lips Hotline. Please enter your card details to continue.

Jensen had warned her about this part, so she had her card sitting out of her wallet on the desk in front of her.

If you know who you are trying to reach, please press one. If you would like to be assigned a random operator, please press two.

Y/N shakily pressed the number one, and then put the phone on speaker while she was at it.

If you would like to speak with Candy, press one, followed by the pound key. If you would like to speak with Kitty, press two, followed by the pound key. If you would like to speak with Lance…

Y/N wondered if she would still have the confidence to go through with this by the time the robotic voice mentioned ‘Red’.

If you would like to speak with Red, press thirteen, followed by the pound key.

The moment of truth. Y/N entered the number 13 and then pressed the pound key. The line began to ring again.

“Hi there,” a temptingly soft voice slipped through the receiver of the phone sitting on the desk in front of her.

“Hi-i,” Y/N’s voice was jarring in comparison, breaking on the first word she uttered.

“Oh, so I’ve got a pretty little girl on the line today, huh?” Y/N didn’t know how to answer so she didn’t, hands frozen in a death grip on the sleeves of her too big sweatshirt. “What’s your name, baby?”

“Y/N,” she whispered back, suddenly scared that Jensen would be able to hear every word being said in her room. Quickly digging into her pockets she pulled out her headphones and plugged them into her cell. Why hadn’t she done that earlier?

“That’s such a pretty name, baby,” the woman cooed, and now her voice was right against Y/N’s ears; it felt like she was in the room, whispering against her skin. “I’m Red.”

“That’s what I should call you?” Y/N managed to keep the tremor out of her words this time.

“Unless you want to call me something else? I can be whoever you want me to be baby girl. Mommy, ma’am, mistress…” Y/N’s heart thundered against her ribs. She realised that she had no idea what she wanted from this – she just knew she was desperate. “Or maybe you want to be in charge? I could be your baby, your good little girl.” Y/N wished she could see Red right now, watch what she looked like as she purred all these promises down the line, teasing and tempting.

“Is,” Y/N gulped, “is there anyone you want me to be?”

“Nuh-uh,” she tutted, and Y/N could imagine her shaking her head, red curls flying by her cheeks. “This is all about you Y/N. I’m here to make you feel good.”

Y/N felt a lick of heat curl in the base of her stomach, twisting itself around her intestines.

“Yeah, I could use that,” she laughed nervously, figuring she should be honest if she wanted this to work out well. And she really needed it to.

“Oh, have you been feeling a little pent up baby?” Red’s voice echoed in Y/N’s ears. The small vibrations coming out of her earbuds were enough to start sending a pulsing sensation down the side of her neck, worming its way under her skin and into her veins. Christ, it had been too long.

“You have no idea.”

“Well, I betcha we can fix that. Are you somewhere comfortable sweetie?”

“I could get on the bed?” Y/N offered, wondering why she hadn’t started there in the first place, rather than at her desk.

“That sounds like a great idea,” Red purred seductively. “Why don’t you stretch out on the bed, get yourself nice and cozy. Maybe prop a pillow up next to you and think about me snuggling you in real close. Wish I could be there to put my hands all over your body.”

Y/N was thankful she was already sitting on her bed by the time Red finished painting her little scene because if she’d been walking, she’s pretty sure her knees would have given out.

“Fuck, it’s been so long since I felt another girl’s hands on me.” She tried not to be embarrassed at how whimpery her voice had gone. If this went well it was about to get a whole lot worse anyways.

“I want to touch every inch of you,” Red breathed heavily. “Run my fingers through your hair, over your neck, down your back. Would I find a bra there to unhook, baby?”

“Yeah,” Y/N sighed, arching her shoulders and feeling the band scratch taught around her ribs, pushing her breast up towards her chin.

“Why don’t you take that off for me?”

“Okay,” Y/N felt her voice shake as much as her hands as she reached behind her back to unclasp her bra, breathing deeply when the pressure of the garment disappeared.

“Bet that felt good, didn’t it baby?” Red laughed knowingly.

“Yeah,” Y/N agreed, loosening up a little at the acknowledgement of a shared experience, something all girls could relate to. She pulled her arms through the straps beneath her sweatshirt and shimmying the discarded bra out the bottom before pushing her arms back through her sleeves. The peaks of her nipples tightened as they caught on the pills of fleece that now sat against her chest.

“What else are you wearing?”

Suddenly embarrassed she hadn’t thought to put on anything sexy in preparation for this call, Y/N didn’t manage more than an “um…” before Red laughed, a warm sound that melted into her like chocolate against your tongue.

“Why don’t I tell you what I’m wearing?”

“Yeah,” Y/N nodded before she remembered that Red couldn’t see her. “Bet it’s something really sexy,” she attempted to flirt, cringing at how awkward she sounded.

“Well that depends,” Red mused. “Do you like lace?”

“Yeah,” Y/N breathed. She loved seeing girls in lace lingerie; the way the delicate weave of the pattern offered small tastes of the skin it covered, the way you could feel someone’s warmth seeping through such a thin fabric so easily, the way it felt to have someone touch you or suck you through such a meagre sheet of modesty…

“What about stockings?” Red voice broke through Y/N’s train of thought, pulling her back to the vaguely out of body experience she was having.

“Love them,” Y/N answered quietly, trying to pitch her voice the way Red was, low and alluring.

“Well, that’s a shame,” she sighed dramatically. “Because I’m not wearing anything at all right now, sorry to disappoint.” Y/N couldn’t see her but she would bet anything Red was wearing a big pout right now. She wondered what her lips looked like. In her head she pictured soft and pillowy.

“You are such a tease,” Y/N laughed, hoping to disguise the pang of arousal that had shot through her a moment before.

“Yeah, but you like it, don’t you baby?”

“Yeah, I really do,” Y/N found herself admitting unconsciously.

“Are you gonna keep teasing me, or are you gonna get naked too baby girl?”

A throb of desire fluttered between Y/N’s legs, her pussy clenching, and when she squirmed back into her pillow a little she felt the lace fabric of her own panties sliding a little more between her thighs. Her arousal had started to soak out of her and into the material.

“You want me naked?” Y/N’s words scratched their way out of her throat, trying to pull her confidence along with them.

“Oh god, please baby,” Red moaned loudly, but it didn’t sound fake. It was like Jensen had told her, it sounded like she was really enjoying this, and like she was actually getting off on what was happening between them right now. “Want to feel your skin against mine.”

“I want that too, baby,” Y/N’s hasty breaths shook her words. She stripped out of her underwear and shoved her phone and headphones down the front of her sweatshirt so she could shimmy it over her head without disconnecting the earbuds. She didn’t want to miss anything.

“God, if I was there I would kiss all over you. Bet you taste amazing,” Red sighed, and Y/N could hear something shifting over the phone, like fabric moving around.

“Are you on your bed too?” Y/N asked.

“Yep, all spread out for you baby girl.”

“Are you touching yourself?” Y/N’s confidence was starting to build as she heard how much Red sounded like she’s into this, and she couldn’t deny she was turned on too. She felt wetter than she’d been in weeks, and when her fingers drifted down over her stomach its muscles twitched in anticipation of where she was about to touch.

“Where do you want me to touch?” Y/N let her eyes slide closed, and she could imagine Red batting her lashes as she asked - where do you want me to touch? - She pictured the girl she’d seen in the photo poised over her, legs straddling Y/N’s hips as Red ran her hands over her own body, fingers trailing over her throat, fondling her breasts, twisting around the pink flesh at the tips of each, lingering on the soft of her stomach before dipping lower.

“I want you to touch between your legs and tell me how wet you are,” Y/N said between deep breaths, trying to keep her voice even.

“I’m already so wet for you, baby,” Red gasped, and Y/N hoped it was a reaction to her fingers slipping inside her pussy.

“If you were here with me, what would you do right now?”

“I’d make you watch me fuck myself on my fingers.” Holy shit, Y/N couldn’t help the moan that bled through her lips, and she heard Red chuckle. “Yeah, you like the sound of that baby?”

“Mm-hmm,” Y/N whimpered, her own fingers finally making their way between her legs and sliding easily through the slick she found there.

“I’d straddle myself right over your face, so you could see my fingers fucking my pussy, feel me dripping on you.”

“Oh, fuck.”

“And then, when my fingers are nice and soaked, you’re gonna suck them clean like a good little girl, aren’t you sweetheart?” Red’s monologue was absolutely wrecking Y/N, she wanted everything the woman on the end of the line was describing so badly. “Want you to do it to yourself, since I can’t be there to do it for you. Can you get those fingers nice and wet for me baby?”

“Fuck, yeah, okay.” Y/N pushed two fingers inside her pussy, clenching around them wantonly. She must have let out some kind of noise because Red giggled again before she continued talking.

“That’s it, fuck yourself for me baby girl, until I can do it for you.” And fucking hell, the thought of Red actually with her, touching her, fucking her… “Your fingers nice and dirty now?”

“Mm-hmm,” Y/N squeaked, pressing against her g-spot to get herself even wetter.

“Good girl,” Red hummed. “Now suck them clean for me, Y/N. Want you to taste just how sweet you are. God, wish I could taste you too,” she moaned, her breath hitching.

Y/N obeyed Red’s instructions, sucking her fingers into her mouth and twirling her tongue around them, curling it across the dips and whorls of her fingertips. She groaned around the digits in her mouth, trying to make it audible that she was doing as she was told.

“Good girl,” Red cooed again, obviously hearing Y/N’s sucking. “Good filthy girl. You’re so dirty aren’t you baby, bet you’re dripping onto the sheets right now you’re so horny.”

“Oh my god,” Y/N felt her whole body clenching as she pushed her hand back between her legs, toying with her clit and sending fresh jolts of desire to her core. “Fuck, I’m touching myself again. Couldn’t help it, you’re so hot baby.”

“I want you to touch yourself sweetie. Want you to make yourself feel so good.”

“I want you to feel good too,” Y/N whimpered, maybe stupidly, but she remembered Jensen saying that Red got off with him and she wanted the same thing. She wanted to know that Red wanted her, that Red found her sexy. She didn’t want to be in this alone.

“Oh, I am feeling so good baby girl,” Red assured Y/N, her voice brimming with sincerity and whimpers to back it up. “Fucking myself so good, pretending it’s your fingers inside me.”

“Fuck, that’s so hot,” Y/N couldn’t come up with anything more eloquent than that. The more she played with herself the foggier her brain got.

“What are you imaging right now?”

“Thinking about you, you on top of me.”

“You want me on top, huh? Want me to hold you down a little, baby?”

“Mm, yeah,” Y/N sighed, slipping two fingers from her free hand down to her entrance and pushing them inside, keeping her other hand on her clit, rolling it between her fingers. “You could hold me down, grind yourself against me. Use me to get yourself off.” Y/N’s breathing was ragged now, and the fingers inside her pussy sought out her g-spot again, starting to focus their efforts a little more concertedly on the spongy bundle of nerves.

“Oh sweetie, that’s so hot, fuck,” Red moaned heavily, her breath catching on her curse. “I’d grind against you so good. Rub our pussies together, all slick and hot, grind my clit against yours nice and hard. Fuck, touch your clit for me baby.”

“I am,” Y/N gasped, drawing fast little circles over the nub between her legs. “Fuck, want all that so bad. Think you could come like that? Just from rubbing your pussy on me, getting me all wet and dirty?”

“Fuck yes, love rubbing my pussy on yours, love grinding our clits together. I could tease you so good. Go nice and slow, wonder how long you’d last before you start begging me to let you cum.”

“I’m close,” Y/N whimpered, surprised at how true it was. She hadn’t gotten so close to cumming this quickly in ages.

“Already baby? You naughty little girl,” Red groaned, and the sound of bed springs crackled through Y/N’s earbuds too. Y/N pictured Red arching off the bed, fucking her hips into her fingers. “You want to cum for me baby?”

“Fuck, yes, yes please,” Y/N begged, feeling the muscles in her thighs and stomach starting to constrict, heat singing through her veins.

“Not yet baby, keep fucking yourself.” Y/N let out a pathetic whine in protest. “You can do that for me, can’t you sweetie. Fuck yourself on those pretty little fingers for me?”

“Yeah, yeah I am.”

“Good girl, I’m so fucking close baby.”

“Fuck, please, want you to cum. Want you to cum with me.” Y/N’s eyes squeezed tight as small pinpricks of light started to burst in the darkness of her vision.

“Gonna cum for you, baby girl,” Red cried, voice high and tight. “Fuck, I’m gonna squirt, I can feel it. Gonna squirt all over your pussy, fucking soak you.”

“Oh my god,” Y/N felt like she might actually start crying, she needed to cum so badly. She was so so so close.

“Rub that little clitty, pretend it’s me rubbing up against you. All hot and wet,” her voice was breaking, her words short and breathless, and Y/N could tell Red was as close as she was. “Gonna cum all over you. Fuck, gonna squirt so hard bet I could actually cum inside you.”

“Holy fuck!” Y/N’s hips snapped into the air, searching for the imaginary body she wished was there. It was becoming hard to hear through the intense buzzing in her ears. Every nerve in her body was pulled taut, ready to snap.

“Cum for me Y/N, c’mon baby, you can do it, want you to cum for me like the good little girl you are baby, c’mon.”

Y/N was sobbing, wrist pistoning her fingers in and out of herself faster than she ever remembered being able to move, and she felt the walls of her pussy clamping down, trying to keep the pressure inside where it wanted it. And then she couldn’t take it anymore. Everything froze. She might have screamed, but to be honest she couldn’t be too sure, because she couldn’t hear anything except the white light that had flooded the dark space behind her eyelids.

Lockdown became much more bearable after that day. Though Y/N did have to try really hard to not think about the fact that she and Jensen were kind of fucking the same girl. In a way. It was weird. But if she ignored that part, then her ‘dates’ with Red were perfect. She was finally able to release all the tension, sexual and otherwise, that this whole mess had building up in her system constantly. And eventually, the world started to open back up and things started to get just a little bit easier.

Y/N wondered what she would do when lockdown was well and truly over. When the bars and clubs opened up again, would she and Jensen go out and try to hook up like they always had before? Would everything just go back to normal? Would she still want to call Red if she was getting actual sex with a real girl, and not just her hand or a bit of silicone? Yes. The answer was most definitely yes, Y/N had to admit to herself. Even though it was just phone sex, it was still some of the best sex she’d ever had.

Well, Red is a professional, she thought to herself wryly as she spooned some froth onto the top of the cappuccino she was making. The coffee shop she worked at had reopened last week, finally.

“Y/N! Can you jump on register while I take my break?” Michelle called from the end of the counter.

“Sure thing,” Y/N smiled and wiped her hands off on her apron, making her way behind the other baristas to the cash register. She briefly glanced at the line of people waiting to order – a couple of college kids carrying some scary looking textbooks, a portly man scratching his bald patch, a pretty girl with shiny hair and awesome winged liner. Y/N blushed as she caught the eye of the girl, and immediately looked back at her tablet, typing in her register code.

“Hi there, what can I get you?” Y/N’s customer service voice was alarmingly cheery, and the two college guys blinked, startled, clearly still unused to interacting with humans again – Y/N knew the feeling, cringing internally. She made a note to dial the pep back a little.

“Hey, what can I get you?” It was the pretty girl at the front of the line now.

“Um, I’ll have a caramel latte, please,” she answered with a bright smile, red lips stretching across shockingly white teeth.

“Size?” Y/N asked, tapping the order into her tablet.

“How big can you make it?” the girl giggled, and Y/N looked up, something tugging at the back of her mind.

“Um, large?” Y/N answered absentmindedly, trying to figure out what was bugging her so much. The girl just nodded, politely accepting the fact that Y/N had skated over her joke. “Can I get a name for the order?” She grabbed the large sized cup and uncapped the marker, hand poised over the white cardboard, ready to write.

“Oh, sure. It’s Danneel.”

“Danielle?” Y/N asked, her mind still wandering.

“No, Dan– you know what, it’s a weird name. Just go with Red.”

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[lovelyysiriuss]

love in cutlery

*gif not mine

AUTHOR’S NOTE: this is actually a story of how my parents met LMAO i just decided to turn it into a bucky oneshot. it's so cheesy and has overall fluff, enjoy <3

PAIRING: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: “When love feels like magic, it is called destiny; when destiny has a sense of humor, it is serendipity.”

WORD COUNT: 906

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Destiny. A fascinating concept. Though, it discontinues remaining so once individuals cease believing in such. A constant waiting game of expectations—expecting the perfect person. They begin to feel impatient.

He was one of them.

106 years of waiting. Enduring anyone’s worst nightmares; mind control with gut-wrenching torture. Furthermore, PTSD. Slipping, slipping into a doom without a possible ending.

Fate was the last judgment on Bucky’s mind. Although he longed for it, a desire. His constant thought of a special her. A person to assist in easing his pain along with the pressure of the world. A woman to wake up to; waking to cook pancakes, with blueberries—his favorite.

Steve found a special someone, envying Bucky. The scrawny kid from Brooklyn, switching into superhuman overnight, then Captain America decades succeeding. He found himself a soulmate.

She was giving up, as well. Tumbling into nothingness.

Then they meet. Time flowed differently. Slowly, without rhythm, as they gaped. Piercing gazes, little to no end. She bestowed him hope, an acknowledgment that it was okay. A confirmation that loving is a component of living. To live is to love, to love is to live.

Once again they meet. Serendipity.

A significant day. Consisting of excitement, including the chitter-chatter of many. Steve Rogers, the Captain America, was being espoused. Naturally, his reliable companion, pal, and buddy was the best man. James Buchanan Barnes.

Fatefully, she was summoned. Sharon’s kindest colleague and friend. The maid of honor.

Without warning, nor anticipation, they caught sight of each at the matrimony. Shocked, appalled, yet at ease.

She turned to the man staring directly through her. As if she was the most gentle piece of glass, nearly ready to be shattered within any given consequence.

He noticed that her locks were styled to perfection, with her dress hugging her body to supremacy. Bucky never appreciated true beauty until he was looking directly at it. The brunet was breathless, at a loss for words, an impossible struggle to get them out, until he does, “H-Hi.”

The girl was suffocating. Suffocation in the best way. Almost livid. “Hey…”

“This was so unexpected. I-I didn’t think you’d be here…” James trailed off, running a hand through his dark locks.

She chuckled, fidgeting with her hands apprehensively below his gaze, “Same here.” An awkward silence occurred between the pair, “How were you invited here?”

“The groom is a good friend of mine. Um, you?” He questioned.

She chuckled, “The bride is a good friend of mine.”

Bucky chortled alongside her, “Well that makes a lot of sense.”

If past Bucky was observing 106-year-old Bucky, he would slap him for being incredibly unlike his past playboy self. Yet, before doing such, current Bucky would grab his hand and rip it off. He may have lost his charm, never his strength and stamina.

“Are you going to the reception?” He asked, exceedingly quickly.

She smiled at his eagerness, “I am.”

The waiters were beginning to serve food to the tables. “Shall we eat?” Bucky confidently brought his hand toward the girl for her to latch on to. She delivered a crooked, awestruck grin his way while tenderly grasping his hand, nodding. Feeling past Bucky entering his current being, he led the youthful maid to her seat, pushing her chair in for her. Then moving to the opposite side of the table and settling on a chair to directly face her.

The food was served to their table, followed by a quiet “thank you” arising from the polite girl. The man was practically melting at her charm and grace, like ice cream on a hot summer’s day.

She lifted her fork in her grip and began to peacefully eat her food. He was just about to seize his utensil as well until noticing that he did not attain one near his plate. He proceeded to scan the area to notice if his missing spoon was carelessly lying on a random spot atop the table, or perhaps if one of the waiters happened to misplace it there.

He kept looking around till she noticed. “What are you looking for?”

Meeting eyes with her, he shrugged, “I don’t have a spoon and I was wondering if it was lying around the table somewhere. I don’t think the waiters would just forget to give me a spoon.”

He continued fixating his gaze throughout the table, though he was interrupted by her once more. “Just take mine I’ll get a new one.” She beckoned a waiter over while gripping her spoon.

“Oh- w-well you don’t have to do that…”

She shook her head, clutching her spoon in her grasp, a waiter appearing beside her as she spoke, “I’m sorry, but my friend can’t seem to find his spoon. Is it alright if you-” She discontinued her train of thought as she looked down at the table, her metal spoon in hand, and felt it pull apart to reveal another metal spoon previously attached to it.

Bucky was staring at the scene as well. She looked up at him to see him already looking at her with a luminant expression. The waiter nonchalantly sauntered off with a gentle smile on his lips. The pair continued to have a stare-off, blown away at the scene that unfolded between them.

“Well, um…” She cleared her throat, “Here’s your spoon.” She passed the utensil his way.

He tenderly retained it from her grasp, sending a dazzling smile her way. “Thanks.”

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[amanda-teaches]

My Trouvaille

Summary: When you and Steve get stranded in a tiny French town, you take the opportunity to play tourists for the day. Can the fairy tale of Vouvant work its very own magic on the two of you?

Pairing: Steve x Reader

Word Count: 4223

Warnings: A minor argument, but it's mostly carefree, fluffy fun. There are a few lines of French translated by Google Translate. If there's any mistakes in those, I take full blame because I can't remember the 5 years of French I took in high school for the life of me.

A/N: This is for the wonderfully kind @captain-kelli's Don't Call it a Comeback (Tour). It's a little bit of a comeback for me as well, since I haven't written in a hot minute. My prompt was Trouvaille, which means a lucky find in French. This also happens to be my very first Steve Rogers fic, and I'm so thrilled to finally be writing for him. I hope you all enjoy!

You were really starting to hate France.

Yeah, sure, it had the City of Lights. The romance. The cheese.

All that stuff was great, you couldn’t deny it. But, you know what else France had? Snowy, below-freezing forests that never ended. Ice-cold, hypothermic rivers to jump into. And, of course, a general foreboding sense of doom.

So, yeah, it kinda sucked.

Intellectually, you knew you couldn’t hold your one experience against the whole country. It wasn’t France’s fault that your mission had ended up here and turned south real quick. It wasn’t France’s fault that Steve had all but threw you off that cliff into the river below. And it certainly wasn’t France’s fault that he’d gotten lost in the forest hours ago, leaving you freezing, exasperated, and with no end in sight.

Even though you knew that France wasn’t the problem here, it didn’t chase the irrational thoughts away. Not when you were completely soaked to the bone and every crunch of your boots against the snow underneath felt like a stab of ice into your legs. You had to blame someone, and it was either France or Steve. Probably both.

Just to make things a little more insulting, Steve was somehow already completely dry. He’d followed you right down into that river to escape the ambush, and yet you were the soggy one while he, well, wasn’t. That darn super soldier metabolism.

“Steve, are you sure this is the right direction?” You tried to convey your annoyance in your voice, but the question came out as a weak stammer instead, with your teeth chattering away against your control. Steve clearly noticed, slowing his pace almost immediately and moving back to stand next to you. His body radiated heat, instantly lifting your temperature, and your mood, a few much needed degrees.

You let out a small, exhausted laugh. “How are you always so hot? Even after we fall into a freezing river, you’re still running like a furnace.”

“Just lucky I guess,” Steve laughed. “By the way, we didn’t fall into a river, we jumped. You knew we’d get wet.”

“Um, maybe you jumped, but you threw me into that river, hotshot. I didn’t really have a say in the whole freezing water, killing our comms, and stranding us thing.”

His eyebrows lifted, a spark of laughter filling his face. “Oh, so I guess next time I should just let us get ambushed, huh?”

“Point taken.” You started to chuckle until a sudden shiver ran its way up your spine, stealing your breath away just like that. Your steps faltered, and you stumbled slightly, but Steve’s hands were on your shoulders in an instant, his brow furrowed with concern.

“Hey, you okay? Maybe we should stop…”

You shook your head, wiggling your toes and grimacing each time. “I appreciate it, Steve, but I think stopping in the middle of nowhere with the temperature dropping is pretty much the exact opposite of what I need. We should just keep going until we find a town where we can get warm and dry and out of these icicle shoes.”

He flashed you a small, sympathetic smile and wrapped his arm around you, rubbing your elbow, up to your shoulder and back again. “Hey, how about next time we catch a mission in Vouvant, we wait until summer hits to take it, huh?”

You knew he was joking, but that didn’t stop you from nodding in agreement as your body slowly sagged against his.

Steve did most of the work while the two of you painstakingly weaved your way through the trees. Night fell, the forest gradually giving way to fields. Steve kept you close to the river, following its curve by the light of the moon until you finally came to a road sparsely dotted with a few small, stone houses. You stopped at the very first one, so bone-tired you couldn’t bring yourself to go any further.

Steve’s arm was around your waist now, holding you up against him, and he kept it there while he raised his other hand, his knuckles rapping urgently on the weathered wood of the old door. It was the middle of the night now and, for a moment, you wondered if anyone would answer. Luckily, the universe heard your plea. After just a minute, you heard soft footsteps on the other side and the door cracked open, a kind, elderly face staring back at you through the opening.

“Excusez-moi,” Steve started, smiling warmly at the woman, who was a good head shorter than both of you. “Nous avons eu un accident et nous avons besoin d'aide. S'il vous plaît.”

You were surprised he knew how to speak French, but you shouldn’t have been. He’d probably picked it up in the army all those years ago. A whole life lived before you knew him.

He’d asked her for help and she immediately complied, nodding furiously and speaking in rapid French while she ushered you both in.

The house was small and cramped, but it still felt cozy, and she guided you through it to two small stools in front of a roaring fire. It wasn’t long before there was a giant quilt around your shoulders and a hot cup of tea in your hand, warming you from the inside out.

As you stared at the fire and watched the embers crackle and jump, Steve spoke softly to the woman and her equally as tiny husband, who had joined the group not long after you’d arrived, freezing, on their doorstep. Your French was basic if anything, so you couldn’t catch much of what they were saying, but you did hear Steve chuckle about the good old days, so you knew they were bonding over something you’d never truly be able to share, no matter how close you’d gotten with Steve over the years.

Eventually, you nodded off, and when you awoke again, you weren’t by the fire any longer but lying in a soft bed, the quilt tucked all around you. Your shoes were off and the rest of your clothes had dried, leaving you nice and warm. You glanced to the side to see Steve stretched out on the floor next to you, sound asleep, with one hand on his stomach and the other extended out towards you. With a soft smile at the sight of him, you closed your eyes and let your head fall back to the pillow, drifting back into a deep sleep.

The next morning, the temperature rose, melting the snow from the ground and bringing a quiet peace to the idyllic countryside. After an invitation from your host, Mrs. Laurent, to stay as long as you both needed, you headed into town with Steve to find a phone capable of making international calls.

Down the road, you crossed a stone bridge over the river into the main section of town, which was surrounded on all sides by a light gray wall bordering the water. After passing under an archway, you emerged onto the hilly streets in the center of the town, the white, red-roofed buildings sitting peacefully under the shadow of medieval ruins in the distance.

Steve found the post office to call for a ride, while you stayed outside browsing through the kiosks of tourist brochures. It was the usual touristy stuff in Vouvant and the surrounding towns- a cathedral, some quaint gardens, a few meandering walks through local lakes, marshes, and, as you’d already discovered, a deep forest, one that you’d already had more than enough of for a lifetime.

You grabbed a small brochure on the town’s history and you’d just finished giving it a quick once over when Steve emerged through the post office entrance, frowning and shaking his head.

“Bad news?” you asked, flashing him a smile that you knew would chase his frown away. It worked, and he returned your smile with a shrug.

“We’re going to be stuck here a little longer than we thought. FRIDAY patched me through to Sam, who’s apparently still in Paris. The jet suffered some damage in the attack, and they had to make an emergency landing. He said they could send someone to get us but not until the morning. We’ll be here another night.”

You bit your lip, thinking for a second. “Well, that’s not so bad.” Holding up the brochure in your hand, you flashed him a conspiratorial grin. “After all, we are in a town straight out of a ‘real-life fairytale’.”

He laughed, taking the colorful piece of paper out of your hand. “You read that in this?”

“Mhmm.” While he scanned the cover, you gleefully provided a brief rundown. “Did you know the town only has a few snow days a year? Lucky us to have gotten stranded on one of the below freezing days, huh?” He smirked as you continued. “Apparently, the forest surrounds a circular fortress, the remains of a 13th century castle. They say visiting it is like stepping back through time, with much of the essence of the history having been preserved. There’s even a tower, La Tour Mélusine, with 360 views of the entire countryside. Other than the outside wall, it’s all that’s left of the keep of the old castle.”

You dropped your voice and leaned in closer, whispering playfully. “Legend says the castle was built by a fairy named Mélusine in just one night and it may still hold some of her magic.”

He handed you back the brochure, raising his eyebrows with amusement. “You don’t really believe that, do you?”

“No, but in a town of little more than 800, how else are you going to sell yourself to the tourists? Besides, it’s fun. Whimsical. What’s wrong with a little magic every once in a while?”

He titled his head, giving your point its credit. “The legend probably is a big tourist draw, but not right now, at least. The postal worker said tourism is low in the winter season, so the town is practically deserted. We pretty much have the place to ourselves.”

“Well…” you started, glancing around the empty town square, “if we aren’t getting picked up until tomorrow, we may as well enjoy it while we can. What do you say? Want to explore a fairy tale for the day?”

He laughed, the sound echoing through the street. “You know I’m always up for a little stroll through time.” He extended his hand to you in invitation. “Let’s go take a tour through the 13th century.”

Your expedition took you all through the narrow streets of town and along the wall enclosing it. You ate, drank, and chatted your way amongst the locals, learning not only the history but about the character and people who made Vouvant what it was today. Steve turned out to be quite the history buff, relishing in the stories and sights even more than you. As the late afternoon rays of sun streaked across the sky, the two of you finally reached the tour’s pièce de résistance, ascending the steps of the mystical La Tour Mélusine and reaching the tower’s summit just before sunset.

“Wow,” you breathed, walking forward and placing your hands on the railing. “It really is beautiful.”

When they said 360 views, they were underselling it. It was gorgeous, the whole vista stretched out in front of you, rolling fields of yellow and orange complemented by the deep greens of the trees. The whole scene had a soft pink glow from the setting sun, making it seem nearly ethereal. And oh so very peaceful.

“Isn’t it amazing, Steve?” Your voice was barely a whisper, filled with awe, and you heard Steve exhale behind you. His breath was right against your neck, sending a tingle down your spine.

“Yeah.” His voice was gruff, deeper than you’d ever heard before, and it made your stomach flip. “It’s something all right.”

Maybe it was the way he said it, or maybe it was just the way you wanted to hear it, but either way, it was magic. Just like that, your world shifted. Time seemed to slow down. Seconds became fractions as you turned towards him, your stomach, your side and, finally, your back brushing against the cold steel of the railing until you were face to face. He was close to you, so close your chest nearly bumped into his when you ultimately reached him, meeting his stare.

The look you saw there easily made another involuntary shiver fly down your body.

“You cold?” Steve asked, bringing his hand up to touch your elbow, gently, hesitantly, as if you hadn’t known him for years, hadn’t been much closer than this. Not that that made your heartbeat slow down in any way, shape, or form.

Cold? How could you be cold when he was looking at you like that? You felt like you were on fire, and you couldn’t fathom how he wasn’t seeing that written all over your face. One look from Steve and the coldest winter day turned into a scorching summer breeze.

You tried to shake your head, but you found yourself somehow nodding instead. A smile flashed across Steve’s face, and he shrugged out of his jacket, reaching around you to drape it over your shoulders. He grabbed the lapels to tighten it around you, inadvertently pulling you even closer to him as a result. “There,” he muttered, not taking his hands off his jacket. Or away from you. “That better?”

“Yeah…” You wanted to say something, anything, but your brain emptied, your voice disappearing along with it. Steve kept his gaze locked on you, and you most definitely couldn’t stop staring at him. The way the fading sun was shining on his face, his smile radiating through his eyes. You wondered if he could read your thoughts, see how your body was reacting to him. A part of you hoped that he couldn’t. An even bigger part of you prayed that he could.

Steve swallowed slowly, licking his lips. “Um, maybe we should, uh start heading back. You know, before you get too cold.”

Heading back. Such simple words, but they made your expectations plummet, your heart dropping along with them. “Oh, yeah, right. We have a big day tomorrow.” You paused, your eyes falling to the floor. “I guess the fairy tale’s over, right?”

Steve’s own eyes clouded and he stepped back, releasing his hold on you. “Yeah,” he mumbled softly. “Fairy tale over.”

He turned and started down the stairs, leaving you to follow. But, you hesitated. All the memories from the day flashed through your mind and only one thought stayed behind: how you wished it never had to end.

By the time you’d made it back to the Laurents, it felt like all the energy had just drained out of your body. You knew a part of it was all the exploring you’d done today and the lack of rest you’d gotten the night before, but that wasn’t what was really pulling you down. Steve was.

The moment on the tower had meant something to you. Just like every moment the two of you ever shared, every look that passed between you, every smile he threw your way. They all struck like lightning, every single time. You’d accepted that long ago. It was deeper than just a physical crush with him. No man could hold a candle to Steve, to his heart, his compassion, the way he made you feel. Safe. Respected. Valued.

You’d never told him, because you knew he didn’t feel the same way. The moment on the tower roof had proved that. He’d pulled back, just like he always did. He’d kept his distance, just like he always did. And it had nearly killed you. Just like it always did.

Dinner was eaten mostly in silence. From your end at least. Steve chatted politely with Mr. and Mrs. Laurent, and he even tried including you in the conversation, but your mood led to one word responses, with a plastered-on smile and the excuse of the language barrier to explain away your lack of participation.

After dinner, you tried to make a hasty exit, but Mrs. Laurent pulled you into the living room, cheerfully showing you pictures of her children and grandchildren. Steve was on the other side of the room, his back against the wall and his arms folded across his chest.

His eyes never left you.

You tried not to look at him, attempting to keep your focus on the kind woman in front of you, but he was like a magnet, pulling you towards him. Somehow, you found yourself right by his side while Mrs. Laurent continued to flit around the room from picture to picture, speaking in rapid, excited French. His arm brushed against yours and he bumped it slightly, raising his eyebrows and chuckling under his breath at the frenzy unfolding in front of you. You couldn’t stop yourself from smiling back, your melancholy quickly lifting, in spite of yourself.

He never failed to draw you out of yourself and right back into him.

A crash broke you out of your inner reflection, and you looked across the room to find glass all over the floor in front of Mrs. Laurent. Steve reacted instantly, bounding over to her without a moment’s hesitation and guiding her safely around the shards of glass to the nearby sofa. You moved to sit with her while he went to the kitchen to grab a broom to clean up the glass.

“Are you okay?” you asked her, hesitating slightly while you tried to remember the phrase in French. But, she seemed to understand well enough, nodding quickly.

“Oui, oui,” she rushed, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. “Je suis d’accord.”

Before you could say anything comforting, Steve appeared, kneeling in front of her with a reassuring smile. He held out a picture of what appeared to be her husband and children on a trip to the beach. It was frayed at the edges from where it had been in the frame but otherwise unharmed.

Her whole face brightened when she saw the picture in one piece. “Oh merci. Merci.”

Steve smiled, saying it wasn’t a problem, and crossed to the other side of the room to finish cleaning up what remained of the frame. The second he left, Mrs. Laurent turned to you, gripping both of her hands in yours and pulling you close.

When she spoke, it was quiet, purposely so, designed for only the two of you to hear. “Ce Steve, il est spécial. C'est une trouvaille.”

Steve and special, those words you knew, but trouvaille was something you’d never heard before. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand. Trouvaille?”

She smiled with understanding, her French changing to tentative English, slow but clear. “You...are...lucky. Steve, he is...good man. Do not let good man go.”

Her words hit straight to your heart, and you felt tears gather in your own eyes. Maybe it was the motherly way she gave the advice or each of the small moments that had left you vulnerable, but all of your feelings came bubbling straight to the surface and years of repressed truths began demanding to be realized.

You were in love with Steve Rogers.

You didn’t know why it took so long for you to realize it, but once it was there, right in front of you, it was as clear as day. Of course you were in love with him. How could you not have been? He was everything to you, your best friend, your closest confidante. And Mrs. Laurent was right. You were lucky to have found him.

“Thank you, Mrs. Laurent. Merci.”

She nodded and squeezed your hands, smiling fondly before she took her leave, retiring upstairs to join her husband. You stared into the blazing fire, considering her words and all of their ramifications until Steve joined you, sitting on the couch next to you with a drawn out sigh.

“I’m glad her picture wasn’t damaged when the frame broke,” he said. “A sweet woman like that doesn’t deserve to lose her memories. None of us do.”

Now you knew he was talking from personal experience, and you remembered the conversation he’d shared with the Laurents last night, how much more they had in common then most people would think.

“Memories are more than just a picture, Steve. Just like people you love, they never truly leave you.”

Your tone was more somber than you intended, and Steve took notice, turning to you with concern. “Hey, you okay? You’ve seemed off tonight. I know you’re probably tired from yesterday…”

“It’s not that,” you said hastily, your lips moving before your mind could even catch up. “It’s you, Steve. I mean...it’s us.” You paused to take a breath, the instant stretching out into an eon. “You know what, it’s nothing. Forget I said anything.”

You stood to move away, but Steve grabbed your hand, gently pulling you back. “Wait a second, hold on, what are you talking about?”

A quiet panic filled his eyes, and you instantly felt guilt swell up inside you. You hadn’t meant to catch him off guard. Sitting back down, your knees faced his, his hand still gripping yours. “It’s nothing, Steve, really. Just please forget I said anything, okay? You’re right, I’m probably just tired. It’s been a long couple of days and I’m overthinking things.”

His eyes softened, the panic turning into a familiar compassion that, in this very moment, drove you absolutely insane. “Talk to me. You said I upset you. Tell me why and I can fix it.”

“You didn’t upset me.” You sighed, jumping up to put some distance between you. Taking a breath, you folded your arms across your body to hold yourself in. “Besides, this isn’t something you can fix, Steve. Not this time, okay?”

He stood up, meeting you where you were. His eyes were firm, determined. “I can try.”

You scoffed in return. “Okay, Mr. Captain America.”

“That’s not fair,” he shot back, his voice hardening defensively in the face of your sarcasm. “You know I don’t mean it like that. It’s not about my job, Y/N. You’re my friend.”

“Yeah, that’s the problem!”

A deep silence fell at that admission, a chasm that seemed nearly unnavigable, full of weight and change.

But Steve was determined to cross it. His tone softened and he stepped closer. “The problem is that I’m your friend? Y/N, what the hell are you talking about? You aren’t making any sense.”

“I know I’m not,” you whispered. Because you’d made a mess of everything. And now you’d backed yourself into a corner. You had to tell him the truth. “Steve, on the tower today, when you gave me your jacket, it...it felt different.”

He shook his head, not understanding what you were saying. “Different how?”

So much for being subtle. “I don’t want to be just your friend, you idiot. I want to be more than that. I always have. And some days it’s just hard to be around you and not go crazy all the time thinking about how badly I want to kiss you, okay?” Good lord, what were you even saying? “You know what, can we just pretend this whole conversation never happened, because I really can’t handle the rejection and pity from my best friend right now. Let’s just go to bed and…”

Warmth. That’s the first thing that your brain registered when his lips landed on yours. The next thought followed quickly behind it though. Steve was actually kissing you. And you sure as hell weren’t going to let this opportunity fall away.

Opening your mouth, you let out a little sigh and sunk right into him. He groaned, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you closer, his lips pulling urgently at yours, savoring and exploring, years of pent up emotions spilling out from both of you and meeting in the middle, igniting and cascading in a rhythm all their own.

When he finally pulled away, you smiled against his lips, not wanting to risk opening your eyes and finding out that it had all been just a dream. “Okay, I wasn’t expecting that.”

“You weren’t expecting me to jump at the chance to kiss the girl I’ve been in love with for years when she tells me she wants me?”

Your eyes flew open, but Steve just nodded, his grin confirming what he said was the truth. “You love me?”

He placed the back of his knuckles on your cheek, wiping away a tear you didn’t even know you’d shed. “How could I not? You’re my best friend, the most courageous, giving, brilliant woman I’ve ever met. You’re my trouvaille.”

A laugh, astonished and unexpected, bubbled its way out of you. “Wait a second, Mrs. Laurent pulled that line on you too? That little matchmaker!”

He grinned, leaning down to whisper in your ear, pausing first to place a soft kiss against your neck along the way. “She saw right through us. I for one think we should take her advice. Now that I’ve kissed you once, I’m planning on doing it again.”

Biting your bottom lip, you reached up to pull him down. “Oh you better.”

[waithyuck]

cold

pairing: vampire!huang renjun x reader (f) *halloweenie special*

genre: smut, supernatural au

word count: 3k

warnings: blood, biting, blood drinking, brief descriptions of gore (I guess idrk), explicit language, degradation, sexual content (oral, facefucking), no aftercare, mentions of being killed, renjun is a mean dom :/, reader is kinda weirdly into the whole vampire thing **unedited**

a/n: this was kinda written in a rush but I tried my best to produce it in the best quality I could! I hope y’all enjoy 💕 (I also wanna add that yes, it was already planned that there wouldn’t be any penetrative sex in this)

< previous | next >

~10/24/2020~

~~~~

walking home from work at eleven o’clock at night was probably the worst mistake you could have made. even worse, you thought it would just be such a great idea to take the back alleys, since it was faster and all you wanted to do was lay down on your bed and go to sleep.

you were an idiot, straight up.

you were walking with your head down, too preoccupied reading something on your phone to notice and be alert of your surroundings. you didn’t notice the creeping shadow coming up on you from behind.

when it grabbed you, you weren’t even able to scream; it covered your mouth immediately and shoved you against the brick of the building next to you. when you looked to see what it was, your body froze in horror.

this man–thing...no, creature, was standing before you grinning sinisterly, his sharp canines bared to you as he drank up your figure with his glowing, blood red eyes.

well, this was it. you were going to die in the hands of something you were pretty sure classified as a vampire. you didn’t stand a chance, not with the amount of strength, speed and stealth this man had already showcased to you.

you couldn’t make a sound, the fear inside you suffocating your lungs and making it hard to breathe. the man didn’t utter a word to you, and as he inched his fangs closer and closer to the vein pulsating in your throat, you squeezed your eyes shut and awaited to feel your death.

but it never came.

the weight of the man-creature-vampire thing was lifted off of you, his cold presence gone in an instant. you heard blood curdling snarls ringing out in the darkness of the alley, and you were too afraid to open your eyes to see what was happening.

you imagined that it was basically a fight between two vampires, and the victor would claim you as the meal. you should have run, but your legs were weak as the fear still consumed every cell in your body.

you were basically dooming yourself.

the wild growls finally ceased when you heard a loud crack of bones snapping, followed by a cut off yelp.

you assumed one of them was now dead, and finally you opened your eyes to take in the sight before you.

there stood another creature; much younger than the previous one by the looks of him, standing over the body of the now dead vampire. it’s head was severed from its body messily, the neck snapped clean off to where you could see the spine poking out in its place.

you wanted to throw up.

when the younger vampire looked at you, his blood red eyes squinted, and he moved closer to you in seconds, using his super speed to crowd you back against the brick wall. you whimpered, but didn’t feel as much fear as you did before, and you managed to keep your eyes open as you stood before him.

his nostrils flared as he sniffed around you, and it surprisingly didn’t weird you out as much as it should have. truth be told, even in the dim light of the moon, you could tell that this man was highly attractive. you cursed yourself for thinking this way about a creature that could easily tear you in two.

you were torn from your thoughts when you saw two fingers snap in front of your face, making your body jolt in return.

“the fuck are you doing out this late?” he suddenly questioned, his voice not at all like how you were imagining it to sound. it was soft…it wasn’t a voice you would have paired to be with a vampire. “it’s dangerous as fuck out here, you know.”

he was speaking so casually, like he didn’t just rip the head off of one of his kind. you sputtered out of cheer nervousness (and a little bit because he was so dazzlingly attractive), not knowing how to respond. his blood red eyes practically rolled out of his head at your pathetic attempts to speak.

“humans are so pathetic, seriously.” he spat, looking you up and down. “I don’t even know why I saved you. you smell good enough to devour.” his smirk, paired with the last part made your spine straighten, your hair prickling at the sense of possible danger.

“n-no!” you finally managed to blurt out, your hands coming up to instinctively cover your vulnerable throat. you wracked your brain to try to figure out how to negotiate with him; to get him to leave here without draining your body of life and blood.

unfortunately, only one thing came to mind, and you hated yourself for thinking it in the first place.

...you couldn't deny that you kinda had a thing for the whole undead, blood sucking, super strong creature shit he had going on. a million and one flashes raced through your mind, showing you different scenes of this stranger taking you up against the brick wall right here, and even biting you just to have a little taste.

it was fucked up, but you could stop your thighs from clenching at the possibilities.

he quirked an eyebrow at you, his smirk never leaving as he leaned into your space even further, flattening your body to the wall with his own.

“no what?” he practically purred, his cold breath fanning against your skin, causing goosebumps to form instantaneously.

“I’ll…” you started, weakly meeting his strong gaze. “I’ll d-do anything...j-just don’t kill me.” you tried to sound strong but there was a shiver in your voice, your chest trembling as you tried to speak. you saw his eyes flash with mischief before he pulled away entirely, giving you your space back.

“okay.” he nodded, his lips still presented in a smirk. “I’ll come find you whenever I need a favor.”

you couldn’t even ask him to elaborate or question him on exactly how he would find you, because in an instant he was gone from your sight, vanishing away and leaving you in the darkness with the still laying dead body of your first attacker.

with a quick shake of your whole body, you practically ran home, slamming the door shut and locking everything, including the windows.

~~

you weren’t sure when to expect to see the vampire who saved you again, but you didn’t think it would take him two weeks to show his face.

you were minding your own business in the safety of your home, throwing your dirty clothes into your bedroom hamper when you heard a soft thud come from your window.

turning around, your eyes met the same red ones from that night two weeks ago, and you had to fight yourself not to shriek. his face was stoic as he stared at you, decked out in all black from his hoodie to his jeans, lowkey making your mouth water.

“hey there,” he said, slithering closer to your form. once again, he cornered you against a wall, not caring to give you any personal space. he inhaled softly, his nose living closer to your neck. “you smell absolutely delicious, darling.” his sharp canines were on display as he smiled mischievously at you, your heart racing in your chest at not only the fear, but the proximity of this attractive man as well.

“um, h-hello.” you muttered out stupidly, wringing your hands together in front of you.

“let’s cut to the chase, shall we?” he stood up at little straighter as he spoke, his eyes glinting as he looked at you. “you owe me a favor, and I’m being generous enough to let you choose what you want to give me.” he looked down at his nails, feigning disinterest as you were practically hyperventilating before him.

you nodded your head to acknowledge that you were hearing him, and he took that as a sign to continue.

“so, what will it be?”

you thought back to the thoughts you were plagued with that first night, and you almost immediately clenched your thighs. you really wanted this vampire to have you, all of you, even your blood for fucks sake. it’s like the sight of him cast a spell on you, and all you wanted to do was have his cock shoved down your throat as he did his best to ruin you completely.

you knew he was capable too; there was an aura around him that screamed dominance, and having the extra factor of being a vampire did nothing to extinguish your lewd sexual fantasies.

it was really fucked up, but you made your mind up in less than a minute.

“you can bite m-me.” you squeaked, looking anywhere but him. you swore you heard his breath hitch, but he nonetheless crowded you once again as he nosed into the juncture of your neck and shoulder.

“hmm, tempting.” he allowed the tip of his nose to graze softly against your sensitive skin, causing you to shiver as it tickled you. his sinister eyes flicked up to meet yours. “are you sure?”

with a small nod you agreed, your brain screaming at you to run and never look back, but your core telling you the very opposite.

his hands found your waist as he grounded you, holding you steady as he finally began to scrape his teeth along your flesh.

“I won’t take too much,” he muttered, almost like a reassurance to you. before you could even nod, he quickly plunged his fangs into your skin, and the pleasurably painful sensation immediately had you moaning out loudly.

you gripped his shoulders tightly, your eyes glazing over as your whole body pulsated with a sudden need, the burning hot pleasure running down from where he was currently biting you to your core, instantly causing your panties to flood with your desire.

he took a few large gulps, and once you began to feel lightheaded, he pulled his fangs from you, moaning at the taste of your blood.

not being able to hold yourself back, you spoke very through that came into your head.

“I w-want your cock,” you breathed out desperately, not sure exactly where the statement came from. it was so sudden and out of the blue, but he didn’t seem fazed for one second.

“oh really?” he questioned playfully, his blood stained lips quirking up in amusement.

“”yes, please,” you begged in response, gripped at the fabric of his hoodie tightly.

he hummed, his throat vibrating with the sound.

“get on your knees.” he demanded, his demeanor changing as he wiped his mouth on his sleeve. he pointed to the ground in between the both of you and at first you were shocked at his words, even though you were the one who admitted you wanted him in the first place. you pressed your back against the wall even tighter as he gazed upon you with his blood-red eyes, your woozy head spinning.

“h-huh?” you managed to sputter out stupidly, causing him to sigh in annoyance. he shot his cold hand up to grip your throat, his nails squeezing into your skin slightly as you squeaked in surprise.

“you said you wanted my cock, right?” renjun growled, getting closer to your face with each word. you managed to nod shyly in his hold, your eyes wide and glassy as you stared back at him. he smirked, “then get on your fucking knees. don’t make me tell you again.”

he let go of you neck and returned his hand to his side, your eyes watching his every move before you finally shook yourself out of your stupor and lowered yourself to your knees in front of him. you didn’t really know what to do with yourself at that point, so you looked up at him with wide eyes, waiting to see if he would say anything else.

he rolled his eyes, scoffing as he reached for the button and zipper of his black jeans.

“dear fuck, do I have to fucking hold your hand through all of this?” his voice was icy and biting, but you still felt a warm shiver crawl up your spine as your core clenched at his words. he finally was able to undo the button and zipper and he then pulled down both his pants and underwear, leaving his almost fully hard cock out in the open on display for you.

he gripped your hair suddenly, forcing your face toward his crotch roughly. “put it in your fucking mouth, slut.”

you didn’t hesitate then, opening your mouth while using a hand to guide him past your lips, immediately swirling your tongue around the sensitive head. he groaned out above you and reached a hand to rest behind your head, not pushing on you just yet.

this wasn’t your first rodeo, so you were able to almost instantly take him all the way down your throat, only having to work up to it about three times. when his cockhead hit the back of your throat, you gagged a bit but it paid off to hear his moan cry out above you. you looked up innocently at him, bobbing your head up and down with your cheeks hollowed, drool dribbling out of the sides of your lips, adding to the messy look.

“that’s a good girl,” he breathed, his hand rubbing the back of your head almost tenderly before he shoved you completely down on him, your nose pressed against the skin of his pelvis.

your eyes blew wide and tears were prickling, but you willed yourself to relax, your throat slightly constructing instinctively around the intrusion in it.

“can I fuck your pretty face?” he growled out, finally letting you up for air. you pulled off to breathe, spit connecting your lips and the head of his angry red cock.

you managed to croak out a rough “yes”, your voice already hoarse from the few minutes of action it had been through. he gave you no time to prepare before he reached down to cup your chin and jaw in one hand, opening up your mouth before he roughly thrusted inside.

it sounded so filthy; the sounds escaping you were not cute and you were a bit embarrassed, but you were enjoying every second of the abuse to your mouth and throat. your panties were most definitely ruined at this point, and you could feel your pussy pulsating with every rough thrust of his cock down your throat.

“fucking take it, slut,” he grunted, his hips never ceasing their movements. you tried to breath through your nose as best you could, and were grateful for the small breaks he would allow you before going to town once again.

you braced your hands on his thighs as his pace quickened, his hips sloppy as he chased his high. there were no words shared and no derogatory comments spit at you as he grew closer and closer, his growls and snarls only growing louder with each passing thrust.

the sounds he was making were almost enough to get you to cum untouched, the mental stimulation almost overbearing as you felt your core tingle in need for him.

there was a nagging precense in the back of your mind that told you he wasn’t going to fuck you like you so desperately wanted him to, and there was a part of you that was perfectly okay with that.

the vampire let out a loud growl before he coneoktelt buried himself to the hilt down your flexing throat, your head knocking into the wall behind you as his cum shot directly down your esophagus.

it was uncomfortable, but you managed to swallow what you could before he pulled out and shot the rest of his hot cum all over your awaiting face.

you basked in the feeling of each shot landing on your skin, and you closed your eyes. your body felt as if it had no energy left, and you barely noticed him pulling his pants back up and fastening them closed in one swift movement.

you were right about him not fucking you or returning the favor, which was fine considering the lack of strength you currently had. the burn in your core was slowly fading along with your physical and mental strength.

as you lay slumped against the wall, his cum painted on your face and mouth, you mustered up the strength to look at and found him perched on your windowsill, ready to leave.

“what’s your n-name?” you croaked, your eyes barely open.

you could make out a smile forming on his lips.

“renjun,” he quickly responded, a lightness in his voice that you hadn’t heard before and that was a complete contrast to his earlier tone.

“and don’t worry, darling. I’ll be back for you.”

and in a quick flash, he was gone, and it was like he wasn’t ever there in the first place.

[simonsrosebud]

what is kevin and betsy like? does he take therapy seriously or act more like neil?

(idk how therapy actually works since ive never gone so idk how accurate his sessions w betsy are okay bye)

kevin takes his therapy seriously, yes.  

at first he doesn’t, when he first comes to psu.  he’s too scared to tell betsy anything bc if she tells anyone then kevin is doomed.

but when riko is killed, he starts taking it seriously.  it’s the main reason why his anxiety is amplified and his panic attacks and nightmares become more frequent.  betsy is working through his trauma with him and bringing much of it back to the surface.

when kevin first meets dalton he knows he likes him.  but he still isn’t ready to tell anyone, not even betsy.

unfortunately for him, she’s really good at her job.

“i want to bring the conversation back to this boy, dalton, that you said you’ve been hanging out with.  he’s your friend?”

something like that.

“yeah, he’s a friend.”

“that’s good, that you’ve made friends outside the team.  how did you meet him?  i notice you’ve been bringing him up a lot lately.”

kevin kneads his hands in his lap.  of course he’d make that mistake.  “i was doing homework at starbucks, and he helped me with math and then asked for my number.”  she nods.  “now we hang out a lot.  mainly at his place.  i don’t want andrew and neil to scare him off.”

she nods again.  “what exactly do you think they’d do?”

kevin shrugs.  “i-i don’t know.  but they’d get in my business and probably tell nicky or matt who would tell the whole team, and then they’d be all in my business,” he keeps going when betsy’s face changes an inch.  just contemplating his words, but he reads into it.  “-and i don’t need that right now.  dalton doesn’t even really know that i’m famous.  it’s too soon, and i can’t be outed to the public, it’ll ruin me.”

he only seems to realize what he’s said when betsy starts talking.  “can’t be outed in what way, kevin?”  he stammers.  “i have a feeling you didn’t mean to tell me that, but is dalton really just a friend?”

kevin’s heart is beating out of his chest.  he digs his fingers into his leg.  “no.”

but betsy hasn’t batted an eye.  “that’s okay.  do you want to talk about it?  you’re clamming up.  take some deep breaths, you know i wouldn’t tell a soul if that’s what you’re worried about.”

he pulls his knees to his chest and drops his head.  fuck.  no one was supposed to know, not anytime soon, anyhow.

he composes himself, but doesn’t move.  “i… like guys.”  he lifts his head.  “and girls, but…” he looks away.  “i’ve been seeing dalton, more than just friends.”

betsy is smiling, softly.  “that’s good, kevin.  i know aren’t ready to tell the others, but you shouldn’t be embarrassed.  not with me, anyhow.”  he shrugs.  “would you like to talk more about dalton or move along?”

he shrugs again.  after a minute, wraps his arms around his knees.  “he’s twenty-four, he’s a grad student...  he didn’t have any clue who i was when he met me, i still haven’t really told him a lot.”

“that’s alright.  things take time.  i know you have trouble lettings new people in, and sometimes with physical touch, are there any problems there that you’d like to discuss?”

kevin glares at her, “i’m not talking about our relationship.”

she backs off with an easy nod.  she does a lot of that.  maybe that’s why she works.

somehow, betsy eventually cracks kevin on talking in depth about his relationship with dalton.  she hears all about it when andrew finds out, then when allison finds out, then when nicky finds out.

when the foxes play never have i ever with dalton.  that was a fun one.

“i’m not taking their side, i’m just asking, but do you think perhaps they could have been trying to get to know him and see if he’s all clear?”

he scoffs.  “if they were they’ve got a fucked way of doing that.  they got him plastered.”

“he didn’t have to keep drinking.  from what i’m hearing.”

“he wanted to impress them, he’d never met them before.”  he crosses his arms.

“did you try to tell him to stop drinking?  was it the drinking that really upset you or that your friends were trying to get answers out of him.”

he frowns.  “second one- but it wasn’t just answers.  they went further than just never have i ever dated kevin, they brought up things like wymack and me having to get blacked out to get my tattoo covered, and… i don’t know, sensitive stuff.”  the yakuza.  “it wasn’t okay.”

“did you express this to them?”  he nods.  “you weren’t ready for dalton to know those kinda of things about you, yet.”  he nods and looks away.

“stop reading my brain,” he mumbles.  betsy takes it with a smile, but he’d be lying if he weren’t a tad annoyed about it.  he didn’t think he was this transparent.  

or again, maybe she’s just that good at her job.

contrary to popular belief, saying i love you for the first time didn’t mean that saying it again became easy all of a sudden.  not for kevin.  not for maybe two weeks, until he can get used to dalton saying it more and more.

he talks to betsy about it, just barely.  despite everything he’s told her already, there’s something about this that he’s too embarrassed by.

the only reason he tells dalton is because he wakes up in his bed, sweating and panting in the middle of the night.  the first thing he does is squint his eyes and look for dalton in the dark, and takes a breath when he sees him stir.  he’s still here.  he didn’t leave you.  stop being delusional.

his hands are fists in the sheets, and he presses himself back against the headboard.  you’re fine.

but he still jumps a little when dalton sits up.  “hey,” his voice is groggy, and he rubs his eyes.  he almost reaches for kevin, too, but stops.  “hey, kev.  it’s d, baby, you’re okay.”

“i know,” he whispers.  “i’ll be right back.”

he steps out of bed, hands shaking, and zips across the room to the bathroom.  it’s dark, okay?

he braces himself against the sink.  “get yourself together.”  he splashes water onto his face.  it doesn’t help.  he’s just wet, now.

he leans back against the wall and slides to the floor.  here’s his dilemma.  there’s a part of him that loves dalton more than life itself, he thinks.  and by a part of him he means all of him.

so why is he so scared of it?  of saying it freely, or without a second thought?  he’s never done this before.  he doesn’t know how it’s supposed to be, he just doesn’t understand why he so scared that he’ll get used to saying it and one day be reject-

oh.

dalton is up on his phone when he leaves the bathroom, and turns it off when he crawls back into the bed.  “are you okay?”

“i’m fine,” he says.

“kev”

kevin tucks his hands into the comforter and balls his fists.  “um, i had a dream that you left,” he mumbles. “i know it’s stupid, i just had a moment, it’s whatever-“

“no, it’s not stupid.  i’ve had the same dream before… s’why i said i love you the first time, actually.”

kevin purses his lips.  he can just barely see dalton’s frown.  “um, don’t judge, but i think… i have a hard time saying i love you,” he mumbles.  “so you just have to let me get used to it.”

“okay,” dalton says.  “do you wanna talk about it at all?”

kevin shrugs.  “i don’t know.”  but betsy’s advice swirls in his head.  the only way to know how he feels is talking to him, even if you’d rather not.

“you’re the first person i’ve had a real relationship with.  i think i’m scared i’ll get used to saying i love you and then one day you just won’t say it back.  reject me, or whatever.”  he lies back and feels dalton following.

dalton is lying on his stomach with an arm over kevin and his chin on his chest.  “you’re not crazy for being scared of that,” he mumbles.  “but i can tell you that i don’t see it happening.”  he brushes kevin’s hair from his forehead.  “i’m not leaving anytime soon.”  he kisses his chest since he can’t reach his face without moving.

“okay,” and kevin swallows his fear, or pride, he’s still not sure.  “i love you.”

the next week at his appointment with betsy he tells her of the late night realization, and how dalton reacted to it when he told him.

“the thing to remember about dalton is that we know he’s not going to reject you out of the blue, yes?  from what i see here and there, he’s not just a fling or a short time boyfriend, and he’s now made it clear to you.”

kevin holds his hot chocolate close to his face.  he hasn’t drank any of it, but it’s warm in his hands and the steam is nice on his face.  “yeah,” he murmurs, and without thinking, “i’m pretty sure he’s my soulmate.”

oh?  “i thought you didn’t believe in that kind of thing?”

he shrugs in attempt to hide his shock from saying it, and then tries to hold back a shit eating grin.  “yeah, well… it’s dalton.”

[wefoundloveunderthelight]

Waterfall Memories by GleefullyCaptainSwan

Chapter 6/9

Read on AO3: | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

Or on FF

Stacy's Tortured Crew: @teamhook @kmomof4 @stahlop @lfh1226-linda @ilovemesomekillianjones @itsfabianadocarmo @mariakov81 @qualitycoffeethings @zaharadessert @jrob64 @jonesfandomfanatic @natascha-ronin @tiganasummertree @xarandomdreamx @therooksshiningknight @batana54 @superchocovian @onceratheart18 @ultraluckycatnd @snowbellewells @karlyfr13s @the-darkdragonfly

Chapters titles are based on the lyrics from “Stubborn Love” by The Lumineers

Chapter 6: And I Don’t Blame You Dear for Running Like You Did

She finished the last of the dishes from breakfast, putting the plates away in the cabinet and turning toward the dog beside her feet on the floor. “What shall we do today?” The dogs barked, standing, and running in circles around her legs.

She looked around the cabin, books littering every surface. She grabbed one nearest to her, flipping through the pages to find them blank, empty, and begging to be filled. Looking around she found a pencil and blanket and gathered her items, opening the door and letting the dog outside. She followed him to the bench on the front porch.

There was water all around the cabin, some of it threatening to flow under the structure. Killian was standing on the side of the cabin, knee deep in the brown liquid, a shovel in his hands, his shirt tied to his side in a knot. She bit her lip as her eyes trailed his upper body, sun kissed from days he must have spent standing in the hot sun before the weather had turned cold.

She sat down on the bench, drawing her knees up to tuck her feet under her, wrapping the blanket around her as the dog curled up below her. She looked at the empty page and the pencil in her hand started to scratch at the white surface. She had no idea if she could draw, couldn’t remember ever trying, but the way the images took shape she thought maybe this was something she was good at in her other life. The one that was just out of reach of her memories.

She drew the forest, the water lying motionless in front of her, a dog splashing through the muddy sludge as a man stood, staring at the horizon. When she looked down at it minutes later, the shape of a swan in the distance was floating away from the cabin on the page before her. She sighed, looking up to watch Killian, now covered with beads of sweat, dripping deliciously down the crevice in his back, and she bit her lip. The man was the picture of sexy and mysterious. She wanted to know more about him, the story of how he got here, why he was alone. Yet she could tell that he was holding back from her, keeping pieces of himself hidden from her sight. What she wouldn’t give to tear back the layers and have him invite her in.

She turned the page of the book to start a new drawing but was surprised to see writing on the page, handwritten in a beautiful script. She should close the book, put it back where she found it and yet she found herself reading it.

Dearest Milah,

My love, I am in darkness without your light, I curse the sun for trying to replace the warmth that you no longer provide. I am in misery, these bars are not my affliction, my prison is of my own making. Even as I am released tomorrow, I will never escape the prison I created for myself. I have failed you. I failed Alice. There is blood on my hands, hate in my heart, revenge destroyed me. Destroyed our life. Our beautiful home. My perfect Alice. I am cursed. I fear that my heart will always be. I will never be at peace knowing the hell I brought upon my family. Your last moments knowing that I destroyed us. My life is forfeit, doomed to walk this earth with the knowledge that I am a monster. Undeserving of love. My fate is sealed. Hope is lost.

Killian

She ran her fingers across the lettering of his name, looking up at the man facing away from her, tearing at the soil beneath his feet. She needed to know more, yearned to understand how anyone could feel so tormented, so worthless. She ached for him.

Closing the book, she stood, watching from the corner of the house, observing his labor. She couldn’t exactly leave him this way. A few extra days to try and solve the mystery that was Killian Jones wouldn’t hurt her. Her life could wait if it meant helping the man who had so selflessly helped her.

She went back into the house, burying the book beneath a larger one, not wanting him to know that she had invaded his thoughts, his privacy. Looking around the cabin she decided she would do something nice for him. She began by picking up the items from the corner, dusting off the surfaces she could. She folded blankets, organized his books, placed the logs evenly beside the hearth and gathered the clothing to be washed in the bucket he kept by the back door.

When she had finished she looked around at the result of her work and smiled. Maybe she was married in her other life, she was pretty good at this house cleaning thing. She frowned, touching her ringless finger. Maybe she was just a maid in her other life. Was she hoping for that instead of having a husband who was lovingly looking for her? A man she had thus betrayed by her night with Killian.

The door opened abruptly, and Killian stepped into the tiny cabin. Tossing his boots into the corner by the door he turned and met her eyes. He seemed surprised to see her standing there, holding a broom, and sweeping the floors. It was so ridiculously domestic that she cursed herself for being found this way.

“I cleaned up.” She announced and his eyes roamed the room and to her surprise the corners of his mouth ticked upward.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know. I wanted to.” She finished her task, setting the broom back behind the door and walking closer to him, reaching out to take the dirty shirt from his hands. “I was doing the wash.” She smiled shyly. He didn’t react, probably from the shock she imaged when she ran her fingers across his chest, dirt and grime slipping through her fingers. “You should do the same.” She added with a flirty grin. “Take a hot bath.” She turned away from him, her smile growing on her face, pleased with the reaction she elicited from him a moment before.

“Uh, yeah I’ll do that.” He stammered, walking toward the bedroom. “Thanks, Swan. For um, for tidying up. I’ve never had a guest before.”

She bowed her head. “Go bathe.” She returned her gaze to his eyes. “I’ll make some dinner.” He left the room, and she swore her heart was going to beat right out of her chest. She had half a mind to follow him right into the bathroom and have her way with the man. But instead, she walked the few steps away to the kitchen to start the meal she promised she would make. The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, she thought. She had no idea why she knew that, but she was determined to find out if it was true.

~*~

Killian retreated from the room, trying to create as much distance as he could between him and the beautiful Swan who was currently domesticating his home. Seeing his place so neatly put together, the blonde woman putting such care and attention into something she had no investment in both confounded him and stirred emotions in him that he had buried, burned, destroyed years ago.

He shut the door to the bathroom, filling the buckets with water to put on the stove to heat but instead tossed the cool water into the tub, perhaps a hot bath was not what he needed right now unless he intended to do something completely stupid and reckless like ask the woman to join him.

He sunk down into the cold water, breathing slowly, erasing all the thoughts he had of how she had felt the night before. The taste of her skin, her intoxicating aroma as he plunged his tongue into her center.

Fuck.

Sinking below the water, he lay there, holding his breath, counting to ten before breaching the surface and gulping in air. He scraped at his skin, letting the soap cleanse the dirt and grime he had accumulated from his earlier work. The trench he had dug would allow the water to escape in a few days. The roads would be clear, and he would be able to drive back to town. This would be over, and he could return to his solitude.

He wrapped a towel around his waist, wandering into the bedroom to dress and pull a comb through his hair. If he was going to play house, he should at least look presentable to the woman who was sharing his fairytale. He rolled his eyes at the mirror, admonishing himself for playing along with this fantasy. Could it really hurt him to have a few nights of pretend? None of it was real. They both knew that. Perhaps it was a reprieve from the devil, or yet another way to torture him. Either way, he would take it.

He stepped from the room quietly as she flitted around the kitchen, humming a song to herself as she worked. She was a marvel to observe, a beautiful treasure in every way. When she caught him staring, she blushed, quieted, and turned back to the stove.

“It was lovely, don’t stop on my account.”

“I don’t know where it came from, it just sort of formed in my head. I guess I must have heard it in my other life” She mused, humming the notes again to You are my Sunshine.

She seemed almost angelic, standing in his kitchen with the sun shining across her golden locks. Before he could stop himself he realized he was singing the words to her melody. “You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy when skies are grey…”

She turned toward him, their eyes meeting. “That’s lovely.” She smiled. “Is that what I’m humming?”

“Aye.” She continued humming. “You’ll never know dear; how much I love you. Please don’t take my sunshine away.” He finished softly, standing in front of her with her back against the counter. Neither one of them moved and he was afraid to take a breath for fear she would disappear right in front of him. He wasn’t ready for her to dissolve, to leave his life. He cursed even admitting it. He liked having her here.

“You have a beautiful voice.”

“I used to sing that to Alice before she went to bed.” He said with a sad smile. “It was her favorite.”

He expected her to go back to her food preparations, to break the spell he was in, but instead she surprised him, reaching up to brush the wet hair from his forehead. A smile sweeter than any he could remember fell across her face as she stepped into his embrace, her lips grazing his jaw before touching his lips. It was over before it began, short yet sweet and full of emotion. He squeezed his lids tighter together to keep his emotions from spilling out. She stepped from his arms and his lids flittered open. “Food will be ready in a minute.”

No one had taken the kind of care she had. Cleaning his house, preparing a meal, comforting him. These were not things that were afforded to him. Yet here she was, a stranger, a woman who was within her rights to demand to be released and taken home immediately and yet she instead opted to care for him. He didn’t understand it. Didn’t want to. Because it would be gone before he had the ability to embrace it. Taken from him like everything else in his life.

“Smells good.” He announced suddenly, sitting down at the table.

“I wasn’t really sure what to make but you have such great vegetables.”

“Aye, I’m sure my garden is flooded now. But at least it’s watered.” He chuckled.

She sat the food in front of him and then made her own plate, taking the seat beside him. They ate in silence, but it was comfortable in the way she would smile at him between bites, or blush when he caught her eye.

After the food was consumed, they each took to the mundane task of cleaning up, side by side, working together. It required no forethought or communication, like they had been doing this their whole lives. “I don’t wish to upset you, Swan, but I think we make quite the team.” He teased, an expression that must have come from a moment of weakness pushing through his hardened exterior. “The place hasn’t looked this bright and cheerful in…” He scrunched his nose, “well, ever, I suppose.” Ending with a laugh that started low in his belly, but he felt through to his toes.

“Then I have completed the task I set out for myself this morning.” She smiled.

“What task was that love?”

“Getting you to do that.” She chuckled before continuing her thought. “Trying to ease some of that burden you seem to carry.”

He swallowed. “I suppose I can bury some of it for a few rare moments.” He pursed his lips. “Thank you.” He added sincerely.

“Can I ask you something?”

He shrugged, “I suppose.”

“What are you punishing yourself for?”

He exhaled, “Why do you assume I’m punishing myself?”

She shrugged, “You live alone, cut off from the world, as if you are condemning yourself to loneliness. I can’t imagine the man I know doing anything that would call for such isolation and sadness.”

“I have done many things in this life, Swan, most that I am not proud of. I am not a good man.”

“You saved me.” She whispered, her hands reaching for his. He wants to pull back, to keep the connection broken, but instead he allows her to take his hand.

“One good deed does not forgive a lifetime of bad behavior.” His voice cracked. He wished things were different, that she could stay here, maybe she would even heal his soul. But her life was not his to control. She belonged somewhere else; he was sure that her heart must even belong to another. Someone noble and deserving of her. A good man.

“It’s a start.” She leaned over, placing a chaste kiss to his cheek. “Trust me, you have a mark in the hero column in my book.” Her words warmed his heart, he rewarded her with a genuine smile.

“Thank you, love. That means a great deal more than you know.”

She stood and wandered toward the couch, lighting candles along the way. As she sat down she gestured for him to join her. “It should be a few more days and I should be able to drive into town.” He added as he sat next to her.

“Well, let’s make sure the roads are safe before you try, perhaps we should wait until things are completely dry.”

He turned toward her, a hopeful feeling rising in his heart, a few more precious days with her. “Aye, good idea. Better to be safe.” She leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder and for a moment he let himself get lost in the gesture. Imagining a new reality where this woman, his swan, stayed, and they would spend nights on the couch, lying together and talking about nothing.

“So, what do you do out here every day? Surely you must find something of interest to keep you busy.”

“Jolly and I do a lot of exploring, fishing over on the west banks, or hunting for game. I suppose when we aren’t doing that I read.”

“I noticed you had a lot of books.”

“Aye, my brother taught me how to read when I was very small. I suppose it become a passion of mine.”

“You have a brother.”

His chest rose and fell with the exhale he exerted. “I did, yes. Liam. He was a good man.”

“Was?”

“Aye. Gone.”

“Your parents?”

“Died when we were young.”

“So, you truly are alone.” She offered sadly.

“Well, I have Jolly.” The dogs head lifted off his lap as he lay next to him. He patted his head. “He provides good company.”

“Have you ever thought of moving back home?”

“No home to return to.”

“But you could move back to where you are from, start a new life.”

“I’m afraid that’s not an option for me, love.”

“You could come with me.” His heart stilled.

“Love, whatever is waiting out there for you, I assure you, it is far more worthy of you than me. You don’t know anything else right now, that’s where all of this is coming from. You’re clinging to what you know because you can’t remember what you don’t.”

She sat up, staring at him. “Stop doing that. Stop discounting yourself like you are some demon, unworthy of compassion. I don’t care what you’ve done in your past, I only see who you are now.”

“Swan, you wouldn’t say that if you knew who I really was.”

“Then tell me.”

“I can’t.” He shook his head in frustration.

“Why not.”

“Because…I don’t want to see that look of disappointment in your eyes. I can’t bear to have one more person hate me because of what I’ve done. I just want you to see me as you do right now. Before you leave. Even if it’s only for a few days.” His honestly surprised him, almost scared him to admit his feelings out loud. He enjoyed that she stared at him with compassion, almost reverence. He wanted her to want him, to see him as the man he used to be, long ago. He couldn’t keep her, but perhaps he could have this feeling long after she was gone. Someone had seen him, the Killian Jones he remembered, the one that Milah trusted and loved. The man who would sing lullabies to his daughter and earned her devotion. If someone could still find that man in him, maybe it was enough to keep him sane long after she was gone.

“Take me to bed.” Her eyes were full of passion, desire, need. Killian rose from the couch, hoisting her into his arms. “Be my love, if only for a while.” She whispered against his neck and he found her mouth, taking her lips with his. Tonight, he would take her as his own, they would have these moments together, no matter how fleeting they would be.

As he buried himself inside of her, pouring every ounce of passion into his kiss, he thought only of her, his Swan. As she lay, curled into his side afterwards, her eyes staring into his with a warmth of devotion, he imagined a life that wasn’t his. A life where he made her happy, where he loved this woman with all his heart and he drifted off to sleep, knowing that even though it wasn’t real, he could almost believe it, almost feel it burrowing deep into his heart.

Hope.

[senorarelojes]

Ficlet: Violator (1/1)

Summary: This prompt from @songsofgayanddevotion and @raphinas: "basically, dave goes to have a prostate exam and alans the doctor and basically dave comes over the table while alan is checking him LMAOOOOO" Rating: Mature

.

When Dave opened the door, he thought he’d gotten the wrong office at first. “Oh, sorry,” he said hesitantly, hovering in the doorway. At Dr. Miller’s desk was an immensely good-looking young man who was scanning a clipboard, his eyebrows raised inquiringly at Dave. “Erm, I think I’ve got the wrong office--” Dave began.

“Are you David Gahan?” the man said pleasantly before rising to his feet. He was a little taller than Dave, six feet of trim muscle in neatly pressed grey trousers and a black Oxford shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. It was a world away from the casual polo tees and slacks that Dr. Miller favoured. “You’re here for the prostate check?”

Dave only belatedly realised his mouth was hanging open when the bloke’s eyebrows inched higher, waiting for Dave’s response. “Um, yeah, yeah that’s right,” he said hurriedly, stepping into the office and closing the door behind him. “Sorry, I was expecting Dr. Dan Miller--”

“He’s down with a very bad flu,” the bloke said, before offering his hand. He had the longest, most elegant fingers Dave had ever seen, and Dave forced himself not to think about where those fingers would be later. “I’m Dr. Alan Wilder, I’m the locum taking over his patients for today.”

“Oh. Um. Cool.” Dave shook his hand a little awkwardly, trying not to notice the nice firm grip of Dr. Wilder’s handshake. “I’m Dave Gahan.”

Dr. Wilder’s mouth curled up a little in amusement. It somehow made him even more attractive; Dave was fucking doomed. “Yes, I know,” Dr. Wilder said, tilting the clipboard at Dave. “Do have a seat, Mr. Gahan.”

“Dave!” he blurted out, before realising that Dr. Wilder was staring at him. “I mean, Dave is fine. No need for Mr. Gahan.”

“Sure.” Dr. Wilder just smiled at him, and Dave decided this must be divine punishment for all the grief he’d put his mother through as a wayward teenager. “So I read through your files, and I understand you told Dr. Miller that you had concerns about prostate cancer.”

Dave nodded, feeling a bit more settled back on familiar territory. “Yeah, my uncle was diagnosed with it last month. And I don’t know the medical history of my dad - my bio dad - so I thought I should get it checked on.”

Dr. Wilder simply nodded without judgement. “You’re in your 30s now, so you’re not in the typical at-risk group for prostate cancer. Still, whenever family history is involved, it is understandable if you have concerns.”

Dave let out a long breath, relieved that Dr. Wilder seemed to be taking him seriously for now. Besides, Dr. Wilder had a very calm, relaxing manner about him that felt infectious, something about his voice that was pleasant and soothing. Dave would pay money to hear this bloke read audiobooks.

Then again, Dave would also pay to hear and see the very handsome Dr. Wilder do a whole manner of other things.

“So what’s going to happen now are two things,” Dr. Wilder explained. “First, we will conduct a Digital Rectal Exam, which would be a physical examination by a trained physician to see if you have an enlarged prostate. Then we will also do a blood test to check your prostate-specific antigen levels.”

“Right.” Dave desperately tried to ignore the heat suffusing his face. He wasn’t going to blush in front of a medical professional because of a fucking prostate exam. “Yup, I get that.”

Here, Dr. Wilder hesitated. “It’s important that you feel comfortable with the doctor conducting the digital rectal exam,” he said quietly. “If you would rather have Dr. Miller do the test with you, we can reschedule--”

“No I want you,” Dave said a little too quickly. His face felt like it was on fire as Dr. Wilder’s smile curled up in amusement again. “I mean-- fuck, sorry. I meant I don’t mind you doing it.”

“If you’re sure.” Dr. Wilder was already pulling the drawer open and taking out a box of latex gloves, so hell yes, Dave was fucking sure.

Dave tried not to look too eager as he unbuttoned his jeans and shed them, going to where Dr. Wilder was telling him to stand. “Could you take off your briefs, then bend over the examination bed?” Dr. Wilder politely asked him, and Dave had to bite his tongue so he wouldn’t respond that he would do anything Dr. Wilder asked him to that involved beds and getting naked. Slipping off his briefs and folding them on top of his jeans in a neat pile, Dave shivered a little at the cold air hitting his exposed bottom.

Getting into position as he leaned against the bed, Dave heard the snap of Dr. Wilder’s gloves, along with his footsteps coming closer. “Relax,” Dr. Wilder said, a cool hand resting on Dave’s bum. “I’m a doctor.”

Dave could only nod in response, not trusting himself to speak. Already he could smell Dr. Wilder’s clean scent, a mix of aftershave and a faint whiff of tobacco. Dave closed his eyes, thinking about Dr. Wilder’s hands on his body, touching the most intimate of places that only his ex-wives had breached. He could also feel the heat emanating off Dr. Wilder’s body behind him, and Dave couldn’t help thinking about what the man would feel like in bed, spooning behind Dave and fucking him from behind, that sly refined mouth pressing kisses to Dave’s neck.

To Dave’s horror, his dick started taking a very keen interest in Dr. Wilder’s nearness as well as the lurid fantasies running through Dave’s head. “It’s fine,” Dr. Wilder reassured him, his voice dropping to that low and relaxing tone again. “Don’t worry about it, it happens to patients sometimes.”

Dave was thankful that Dr. Wilder was both acknowledging his erection while not being weird about it or put off. “I don’t, I’m sorry--”

“Relax, Dave.” The silky way Dr. Wilder said his name made Dave jerk a little, his cock starting to leak over the sterile paper sheets on the examination bed.

Now Dave could hear the squirting of lube from a pump bottle, then Dr. Wilder slicking his fingers. “Spread your legs a little wider,” Dr. Wilder said, and maybe it was Dave’s imagination but the doctor’s voice sounded a little rougher than normal. “Mmm yes, that’s good. Open up for me.”

Dave bit back a moan as he felt Dr. Wilder’s finger slipping inside him, slowly at first so as to help him get used to the intrusion. “Okay?” Dr. Wilder asked, his voice so gentle that Dave fought the temptation to turn around and kiss the living daylights out of him.

“Yeah.” Dave kept his breaths slow and easy, biting down on his forearm as Dr. Wilder slid in a second finger, in and out of Dave in an easy glide. “Keep-keep going.”

Dr. Wilder didn’t say anything, but he pressed a comforting hand on the small of Dave’s back while his fingers inside Dave were searching around for his prostate. This time Dave couldn’t hold back the moan when Dr. Wilder finally found it, pressing on it gently and making Dave leak embarrassing amounts of pre-come all over the covered bed.

“All right?” Dr. Wilder was definitely breathing faster now, even though his voice was still even, but Dave was too busy rolling his hips back, greedily demanding for more pressure from those talented fingers, too far gone with pleasure to care about propriety and inappropriate doctor-patient boundaries and getting sued by the hospital. All he cared about was the insanely hot man behind him with his fingers sending Dave through waves and waves of toe-curling pleasure, on the brink of one of the most intense orgasms he would ever experience.

“Dave--” Dr. Wilder sounded so breathless and stunned that when his fingers crooked against Dave’s prostate again, Dave came and came with a resounding yell, spurting all over the bed and his own bare feet, his legs shaking so hard that they almost couldn’t hold him up. Dave was gasping for air, trying to recover from the brain-melting orgasm as his head thunked down on the bed.

Oh fuck, Dave thought, remembering that Dr. Wilder definitely did not sign up to finger fuck one of his patients into oblivion. Shakily standing upright, Dave turned around with a litany of apologies at the ready. “Fucking hell, I’m so sorry--”

Dr. Wilder was staring at him, his cheeks pink with pleasure and his eyes brighter than stars. His gaze dropped down to Dave’s mouth, and Dave suddenly realised - with a white-hot pleasure - that he had nothing to be embarrassed about because the doctor was licking his lips while staring at Dave’s dripping cock.

“I, uhh--” Dr. Wilder quickly took off his gloves before handing Dave a box of tissues. “I will give you a while to clean up, Mr. Gahan. Someone else will be along shortly to help you. Sorry about that.”

“What do you-- wait!” Dave called out as Dr. Wilder left the examination room, but it was too late.

***

After Dave had finished cleaning up and putting on his jeans again, a nurse came in and apologetically told him that Dr. Wilder had been called to assist with an emergency, so Dr. Miller would follow up with Dave next week about his test results. “Emergency my arse,” Dave grumbled under his breath as the nurse led him out. Outside, Dr Wilder was nowhere to be seen.

Then Dave had an idea.

He only had to wait outside the hospital for about 15 minutes before he spotted Dr. Wilder heading to the designated smoking area, looking a bit shaken as he dug around for his cigarettes. When Dave walked up to him, Wilder avoided his eyes. “If you have any complaints, you can lodge them with the hospital,” he said in a tired voice.

Dave gaped at him. “Wh- wait, why would I want to lodge a complaint?” he said in amazement. “I came to fuckin’ apologise to you, mate.”

“Oh.” Dr. Wilder took a deep drag of his cigarette, a bit confused. “So you’re not mad I took advantage of you?”

Dave stepped a little closer, taking Dr. Wilder’s cigarette from him for his own drag. “As long as you’re not mad I came all over your table.”

They smoked in silence for a while, at least until one of the nurses popped her head out of the back door and called Dr. Wilder’s name, saying his next patient was here. Dr. Wilder stubbed out the cigarette, looking carefully at Dave.

“They warned us about this in pre-med, you know,” Dr. Wilder said with a little smile. “Being attracted to one of your patients. Never happened to me until today.”

Dave’s grin at him was so wide that it was hurting his cheeks a little. “Well, when Dan Miller comes back, I won’t be your patient anymore, will I?”

Dr. Wilder’s smile widened in response. “No, I suppose not.”

“Then it’s a date.” Dave grabbed his arm, taking the pen from his pocket and writing his number on Dr. Wilder’s arm. “So you don’t have to nick my mobile from my personal data.”

“Because that would be wrong.” Dr. Wilder smirked at him before heading back inside, leaving Dave laughing at the smoking area.

[readbythestarlight]

c2e131

How we feeling everyone? Are we ready for the possibility of everything going absolutely and horribly wrong? I know I’m not!

Sam

Sam

SAM

NO

This man

SAAAAAM

OH MY GOD

"I have a mirror where is it?!" Sam

I hope he was planning on a haircut anyway

The things this man will do to horrify his friends

"That was despicable" he says of his friends (mostly) doing his best to keep him from destroying his hair

[[MORE]]

"Do we still do years!?" mood

Matt did you just call them Vox Machina

Yeeeeesssss Yasha time to prove yourself baby!!

Oh dang Matt that’s a cool way to make sure the rest of them get to be involved

I have a feeling that (if) she loses the lesson will be that her strength comes from her friends and that she doesn’t have to do things alone? Something along those lines

Damn Liam don’t hold back xD

They’re gonna kill her in the first round omg

I love how they’re still so proud whenever she remembers to rage

Thank Kord for that tho

Travis’s just literal YELLS of delight when she goes reckless lol

S: "what’s my backstory"

M: ":) here’s ur backstory u little shit"

Travis just SHOUTING is literally the best part of this

He’s having SO much fun and is so happy for Ashley it’s adorable

RIP storm Laura

I thought for sure she said 66 and I died

Sam is truly the most chaotic man I’ve ever seen

Oh my GODDD YES GIRL

Sam’s antics are so funny

Go Yasha go Yasha go Yasha come on girl

YES it’s about time

I’m having some emotions

Oh thank gods Wentsforth is okay at least

I’m still worried as fuck about Yussah though

Something tells me he’s not on Darktow?

JESTER

he asked you NOT to

I’m gonna be emo about Fjord and Vandrin now

"No spoilers please" oh I love him instantly

Hot springs before they gk to a nice frozen wasteland of doom, good call

Oh I hope he’s not upset

Okay good

I’m glad that went over well

Yeah y’all should definitely warn Essek? And you should definitely like? Call him? Now?

"Do you think you could work alongside your abuser?" THANK you Beau for straight up calling it like it is

I really really really don’t want them fighting alongside Trent

And also they should kinda consult Essek about this? He’s not gonna want to fight alongside them

Also yeah listen Beau’s right the concern isn’t about you killing him it’s about him preying on and distracting you through your trauma

"You may be under scrutiny. Ikythong could know about our involvement with you. He could be coming. Maybe we could help though. Where are you now?"

Oh boy poor Essek

"This is challenging tidings. Um. Then I cannot stay here long. I am at the outpost. If you still need my help we should leave soon. Soon."

Oh babe.

CALLIOPE ARE YOU UP

ARE YOU UP

CALLIOPE ARE YOU UP

god he’s the best little brother

Okay okay they made it to Eiselcross at least

Now just get to my boy

Oh NO that’s too far

I was hoping we’d get into a fight this episode just to save my stress levels but at this point it’s looking like that will be next week

Literally my only consolation rn is that Matt won’t send them into another huge battle with no spells if he can help it

Aw Fjord! He seems upset :(

HOT BOI

“Friends, please, enter.”

Y’all listen to Essek in this

Trent isn’t to be trusted here

Caleb apologizing for putting Essek in danger like Caleb babe </3

He was already in danger

Oh SHIT I’ve been waiting for Essek to find out about the eyes on Caleb (and Beau but obviously mostly Caleb)

I should write fic about that actually

Seriously though guys please listen to Essek on this one

E: “I am jealous... of the bravery and confidence you have in such things. I am still a coward.”

C: “Coward? You’ve dared much.” (Okayokayokayokayokay)

E: “I have done everything for myself, and when any of it came to bear I have done everything I can to hide and flee. I am more than happy to go and put my life on the line for this cause, but there is something about that man and what he could bring upon me and those he—he may very well be coming anyway, but if you want to work with him I may have to work independently, maybe follow. I feel I would make this messier than it needs to work. I’m not saying I’d leave you alone, but... you’d have to work separately.”

Thank god Fjord thanks for seeing reason

“Would you mind terribly taking off your shirt?”

Caduceus that’s Caleb’s line

For real tho guys plz listen to Essek and don’t ask Trent for help

“One person that we can trust—“ they trust Essek again and I’m CRYING about it

OmG I can’t breathe

Hot boiiiiio finally going on a trip with the gang! Sure hope nobody does horrifically!

“We are going to stick with you. We feel we can trust you more.”

Like a small hit to the heart and also making him feel warm and fuzzy on the inside y’all I’m crying

���I am thankful for the trust you put in me and I hope to... make this up to you. ...Anyway I’m bad at such discussions. Shall we?”

My BOY

Dagen makes nine

Prayer circle for next week guys I can’t lose a second purple fave in this campaign

[rhaenyratargeryn]

Exit Wounds (Cyberpunk 2077)

Pairing: Takemura Goro x (female) V Rating: Mature Summary: When his plans for revenge fail, V and Takemura are left right where they once started. A dying thief and a disgraced soldier, with as much in common as they lack and an improbable bond that holds them to one another. Notes: Post-Canon, Nomad ending. Spoilers for post-game! Read on AO3

They’d picked up a tail somewhere around the border. Whomever it was, they were skillful and cautious, but even still the Aldecaldos were able to lose them in a sandstorm across the Mojave. After a few weeks, it seemed that maybe they had even died out there in the hot sands.

Panam had taken V to a few experts along their trail, people who had done work for the family but so far, there had been little more than additional pills to take. She was swallowing a pharmacy every morning just to keep blood out of her mouth, but the worst of the seizures were under control and well— there was still time. Six months Alt had said, but maybe more. One had already passed and V felt better. 

Well. Physically at least. 

Inside her head things had changed, for better or for worse, was an academic argument that V hadn’t the time to ponder. She had, god forbid it, gotten used to having Silverhand in her head. The lack of Johnny’s familiar presence in her mind had left a strange sort of… loneliness in her. A feeling that wouldn’t leave her, a gnawing sensation that something was missing.

She had Johnny’s memories still and her own of him, though it did little to console her. She sat on the dusty fender of one of the trucks, rubbing a smudge from Johnny’s aviators, one of the handful of tangible mementos she kept of the old rocker. The sun above was already searing hot, the heat like a burn on the back of V’s neck.

“How far out did you spot um?” Mitch’s voice cut through her thoughts and V squinted against the bright daylight up at the two younger nomad drivers, Fiona and Tiger. They’d been sent out on a water run, returning from the nearest town several miles out with gallons full to keep the Aldecaldos going further across the desert.

“Cut us off. Started a fire fight. It was fuckin’ dicey, Mitch. We got lucky. Fiona clipped him and then his hood. Whole ride started smoking and then died under him.”

“Was it Arasaka?” V asked, replacing the aviators over her eyes.

Tiger and Fiona shared looks and then with a tentative nod, Fiona answered in the affirmative.

“We think so. He moved like a damn one man army, even with how fucked up he seemed.”

“Fucked up?”

“The guy was a monster, but it was like… I dunno. Like he was hurt?”

“Never corner a wounded animal…” Panam offered cryptically from where she sat alongside V, shooting her a worried look.

“Wounded animals got nothin’ to lose,” V said in agreement, then got up with a sigh, “You said you shot him? His car broke down too?”

“Yeah, probably right where we left um… you want us to go back, Panam? Make sure he dropped?”

“I’ll tag along. Hitch over with you both.” V said, Panam frowning at the suggestion, “I could jack in, find out what info he has got. I know Arasaka, Panam, I’m the best to check it out.”

“You don’t need my permission, V—”

“But?”

Panam scowled, turning her eyes to the other Aldecaldos and jerking her head to the side in a silent scram. They left, Mitch stayed, crossing his arms.

“The guy is toast. Why not just leave him?” Panam said, a sigh in her throat, “I dunno. I don’t like this, V. Arasaka hasn’t made a peep since we left. Thought we were keeping under the radar…”

“Clearly not.” Mitch said with a shrug, “And he might be toast. Or he mighta had back up. He might be on his way back to the NC to give up our location. We should make sure he is flatlined, if anything.”

Panam was the head of the family now, her word given final weight of law, but more often than not they had worked together as a sort of “council”. Panam was still getting used to Saul’s absence, an empty void that no one attempted to fill, because no one could ever do so. She looked to V and Mitch for guidance and right now it was obvious in the way she worried her bottom lip and flashed a look up and down V that she wished Mitch had agreed with her.

“You’ll keep outta trouble?” Panam said and V couldn’t help but crack a smile.

“I’m already dyin’, what other shenanigans could I get up to?”

Panam scoffed, clearly not liking the answer.

“Ugh, just be safe! Come back in one piece... or this shitty ass trip has been for nothin’.”

This was what having a family was all about though. Caring. Scolding. And now that she had it, V wouldn’t trade it for anything. Not for all the eddies and fame in Night City.

“Be back soon then.” V said, meeting back up with Fiona and Tiger with a short wave behind her.

---

It wasn’t a long drive to the spot where they had tangled with the possible Arasaka soldier and that actually genuinely worried V. They’d gotten close. Too close.

“There it is, can you see?” Fiona said, pointing her cigarette towards the ever larger growing mass of grey smoke.

“Pull off up here… Fiona, you stay with the car and I’ll take Tiger with me. You hear shots or us hollerin’ you peel outta here and go get the others, alright?”

“Yeah, yeah. Got it.” Fiona flicked ash unto the sand as she pulled the car up slowly to the patch of dried red earth, hidden in the shadow of a high rock and threw the gear into park.

Tiger followed V out, his rifle at the ready as he hung back a few steps. V had Johnny’s— no, her pistol. It was strange how well it fit in her hand, a perfectly balanced weapon that she loaded and readied with the familiarity of one who had used it for years, not a few weeks.

The remnants of the enemy jeep were still burning, fire crackling faintly from beneath the blackened and smoke streaked hood. The thing was already doomed before it took a few good shots to the metal, the paint peeling from the sides everywhere from overexposure to sunlight and rough sands. It was a junker, not exactly the kind of thing an Arasaka soldier would drive.

V came up around the drivers side while Tiger kept back, rifle ready for longshots. No one seemed to be in the car. V checked the handle with the back of her hand, feeling only the heat from the sun on it. She opened it quickly, hand going back to hold her pistol ready as she checked the passenger seat and back. 

No one.

Frowning, she noticed blood on the driver’s seat, smeared across the old cracked leather. The trail continued on the ground, darkening the already caked red dirt with splotches. Any rations or water the truck held were taken and whomever was driving had begun to walk, following the tire tracks Fiona and Tiger had originally left behind.

V felt her blood run cold as the depth of her mistake fell on her.

“Tiger! Turn ‘round, get back to Fiona!”

“W-what?” the young man sputtered, gun up and ready as the panic in V’s voice clearly showed through.

“Get back to the damn car!”

V broke out in a run, leaving him behind as she tried not to let her heart surge with panic. Her eyes caught the blood trail on the ground… making its way to the same rock, the only place of shade, where they had parked the car.

By the time V was back in the shadow of the dark rock formation, her fear was confirmed.

Fiona was out of the car, her eyes wide and fearful and her hands behind her head as the man behind her pointed a gun to her temple.

A man whose cold, mechanical grey eyes cut right through V’s chest and threatened to suck the breath from her lungs.

Takemura’s lips twitched into a smile that was more sneer than anything. Surprise registering just for a moment on his features, or maybe it was more like shock.

“The very woman I have been looking for.”

Tiger had been right. Takemora was a mess. Even without the gunshot wound bleeding sluggishly at his side, his usual immaculate bun was loosened, strands falling across his sun-scorched face, darkening his already warm complexion with deep reds.

He was indeed a wounded animal, a wounded wolf, snarling and ready to take its prey with it to the grave.

V brought her hands up, holding her pistol out and quickly ejecting the clip and then the bullet in the chamber. Carefully, she set the pistol on the ground.

“A wise choice.” Takemura said, accepting her silent surrender.

“Let her go, Goro.”

“You insult me.” he spat, Fiona crying out as his grip tightened and jerked at the back of her neck.

“Fine! Fine— Takemura. Let her go. You came out here for me, yeah? Don’t need the kid.”

“What is one more life to you, V? You already have so many to answer for.” Takemura said, but despite his words, his grip relented on Fiona, “I am here only for one. One that mattered most…”

Takemura took the gun from Fiona’s belt, tossing it far off into the dirt before shoving Fiona away from him dispassionately.

“Do not move.” was all he said to Fiona, his eyes never leaving V’s. Takemura staggered forward. He tried not to let the pain show, but it was obvious he had lost too much blood. He wouldn’t survive that wound without help, but something in his eyes made V think… he didn’t intend to.

V didn’t run, didn’t even struggle as he reached out and grabbed her throat with a hand, sticky with dried blood. He dragged her in close, close enough that she could smell the smoke on his clothes and feel the heat of his breath.

A quiet seemed to come over him, an almost peaceful stillness. His eyes were half lidded as he looked down at her, his hand moving to hold the back of her neck more gently, almost in an embrace as the other held the pistol close to her head.

“... you should have left me to die that da-”

Takemura’s words were cut off with a strangled cry of pain as Tiger’s rifle thundered and a shot grazed over his shoulder and tore fabric and flesh from him. The impact was enough to throw Takemura off balance, giving V enough time to force him back onto the ground, scrambling for the pistol in his hand.

It was a dirty fight— more of a scuffle than anything as blood loss and dehydration seemingly had already sapped the former Arasaka bodyguard of much of his strength. V did him the favor of knocking him across the head with the butt of his pistol before he could get up and risk another shot from Tiger. Somehow, V felt the younger man wouldn’t miss the second time around.

Tiger clamored down from the rockface, rifle still up and ready for another shot.

“No! He’s down!” V hovered over Takemura, shielding him from Tiger’s barrel.

“I missed um, V! Fucker still breathing.”

Fiona had scrambled up from the dirt, rubbing away the clean spots where her tears had made trails down her cheeks.

“Yeah and he’s gonna stay that way, alright? Just… just check on Fiona and get the damn car going. We’re taking him back to camp.”

“V, what? No. No, no way. We can’t take some Arasaka spy back with us!”

“He ain’t Arasaka.” V said behind clenched teeth, straining to haul up the dead weight of her former partner in crime, “Eh… hey, help me here will ya?”

Tiger stared, dumbfounded as his rifle went lax in his hands.

“Look, we need to know what he knows. We can do that better somewhere safe and with him not leaking to death so help me get him in the damn car.”

--

If V had thought Tiger and Fiona put up a fuss on the drive back, she had not fully imagined how Panam would react. V wondered to herself if Saul had ever yelled at Panam this way before, because it certainly matched the kind of ferocity she had seen between the pair.

“Are you listening to me, V?!”

How could you miss it?

V’s inner voice, which sometimes still sounded a lot like one Mr. Silverhand, provided in his deadpan voice. It was an imagined voice, but it still brought a smile to her lips as V let herself indulge in the fantasy that he remained with her.

“Jesus… completely ignoring me. V. You brought an Arasaka spy to the camp. We can’t let him go now! Our best bet is to put two in his skull and burying him in a sand drift and hope his friends don’t come looking!”

“No one is gonna come lookin’, Panam. He’s former Arasaka. Outcasted. Exiled— whatever you wanna call it. He doesn’t got any back up. They don’t even know he is here and would kill him as surely they would any of us.” V said, leaning back in one of the camp’s creaky metal folding chairs.

Even in the firelight it was easy to see the lack of faith in Panam’s expression as she paced around the firepit, raking her hands roughly over her face.

“Former Arsaka, current Arasaka. Shit, V, you think that matters? I got a half dead highly trained killer in this camp who wants to off you.”

V shrugged.

“Oh my god, you are impossible!”

“I’m the only one he is a danger to, so I don’t know why—”

“Do not finish that sentence. You know damn well why.”

Still managing to piss off everyone, I see. Fucked off to the furthest outer reaches of the net and Johnny’s words still somehow played in her head. 

“Sorry.” V said with a grumble, resting all four legs of the chair back to the ground, “He might know something. And if he does or doesn’t, we can just patch him up and drop him at the nearest town.”

“Oh, yeah. Real nice, V. So he can come after us again?”

“I’m not gonna kill him.”

Panam sighed— well. It was more like a half assed hoarse yell from the back of her throat, but V thought she meant it as a sigh.

“... they manage to fix him up at all?”

“Yeah… yeah it looks like he had one shot of Bounce Back left. Kept him from flatlining when he took that hit to the side. He was already healin’ up. Bullet was through and through. Tiger only managed to graze him. Kid got nervous or else your old friend wouldn’t have a face right now.”

Panam crossed her arms, still fidgeting from side to side.

“That ain’t even his worst problems. Guy probably hasn’t eaten in days and his water ran out long off too. This… well. I don’t think he was planning on going back to NC.”

After a moment, V stood, rubbing both hands up behind her neck and then back down with a groan.

“I don’t think so either.”

“You… gonna see him?”

“You got him restrained?”

“Yeah, V. He’s in and out. Was delirious for a bit, but they managed to get some water in him. V… he’s in a bad way.”

“...s’my fault.” V said, words a half mumble, “You heard on the radio. Our plan got Hanako Arasaka killed. I… didn’t want that, but Alt had her own plans, ya know? Christ, at the time I didn’t even think to know, I was just trying to keep alive.”

Panam shook her head, “We lost people too. Saul. Teddy. Bob. … fuck, nearly lost more. You didn’t know Alt was going to stage a hostile god damn take over. He can’t blame you.”

“He will.” V said, her voice quiet, “I… I’ll try to talk to him. At least keep him from doing anything stupid thinking we got plans to flatline him.”

“Yeah, just… be careful, V. Like I said. The sun does weird bullshit to your head out in this place.”

V only nodded, gripping Panam’s shoulder just briefly as she passed towards the tent where they were keeping Takemura.

---

Two armed nomads were outside the tent while another two had been inside while Tom, a former ripperdoc and current nomad senior, had worked on Takemura. The three had left to give V some space, but the other guards remained outside nearby.

Takemura was laid out on one of the cots, his ruined shirt cut and stripped from him, leaving him bare from the waist up except where bandages were wrapped tightly around his middle and then up around his shoulder and back. V had always seen the exposed trace of chrome that wrapped around his neck and along his jaw, but now she could see where cyberware traced across his bare arms and lined one side of his ribs. Their purpose, V couldn’t say, and most likely, they didn’t work anymore given Takemura’s burned status with Arasaka.

The rest of his body was, at least by appearances, organic. Smooth olive complected skin over toned muscle. Takemura’s face gave away his age. The lines on his forehead and around his mouth indicated years of deep thinking… or deep scowling, but otherwise he had kept himself at peak condition. A work requirement no doubt of being a top Arasaka bodyguard.

His breathing was sharp, but steady enough. His eyes were closed, but a grimace rested permanently across his features even in sleep.

V pulled up a chair, turning it backwards as she straddled it and leaned her arms against the back frame.

“... you look like shit, man.” she said, not expecting an answer. She didn’t get one either, not a vocal one. Instead she got the faint clatter of metal against metal as Takemura moved and the cuffs holding his arms to the bed rattled against the frame.

She had flinched at the sound, embarrassing herself.

His eyes opened, the pale grey like moonlight slicing through darkened clouds. He looked hazy, drugged up… his eyes looked over at her with only the vaguest recognition.

“... V?”

“Yeah, it’s me.”

“I am… not dead. A dissapointment.”

“Sorry— you were hoping we’d put two in your head while you slept?”

Takemura made a gruff sound that V took as an affirmative.

“Would have made it easier.”

“Uh huh, you know they got hotlines for this kinda thing.”

Takemura groaned, “I remember. You said same thing in Night City.”

“I’m sure someone in camp would be happy to help you out if you try shooting me again.”

Takemura went silent at that, turning his eyes upwards towards the top of the tent with a deep frown. Like he was remembering something he had, for a moment, forgotten.

“I will kill you, V. For what has been done.”

“I didn’t have anything to do with Hana-”

“You insult her by speaking her name.” his voice was harsh, pain straining the words as he tried to sit up and found himself unable to bear his wounds.

“...I’m sorry, Takemura. I didn’t— it wasn’t— I didn’t want anyone to get hurt… I was dying. Like literally in that moment fucking flatlining. I did what I had to try and sever that relic from my head and… and that AI did what she wanted.”

“You let it in. It turned systems against Arasaka. Hanako-sama— Hanako-sama was shredded by hacked mech units. Beyond recognition! And you tell me you didn’t know? You knew it would be nothing good.”

“... when I was there, when Alt took over… she was only attacking soldiers who attacked us. I don’t know what happened with Hanako-sama, but—”

“And now I have told you what happened to Hanako-sama.” Takemura said, his words clipped, “Get out— better still, let me die having done my duty.”

V swallowed thickly, rolling her lips together before she said quietly, “I’m not gonna do that.” 

Takemura did not respond. He shut his eyes, as if he refused to even give V the dignity of looking at them. His brow was tight, pained and yet still grimly determined. 

There were things she still needed to ask him— did Arasaka know where he was? Did he still plan to bide his time and kill her? V felt her heart throb at the very idea that this man who she had trusted, had worked with, had saved her… now utterly hated her.

He had sent her one message after she had left Night City, standing among the rubble and ruin of Arasaka Tower.

Rot in hell, クソ野郎.

In all honesty, the way he had spoken, the things he said… well, she hadn’t expected to hear or see him again. V had done with that knowledge what she did with most things… hit delete on the message and then buried it in the back of her thoughts with Jackie and the other countless people she had let down. These things were all just part of the sins she figured she would pay for in six months when her body finally succeeded in killing itself. A part of her had even wondered if the agony of that, the pain of each seizure, the waking exhaustion, nausea and memory loss… if her suffering could tip those scales even the slightest. Make it even. 

Just another fairy-tale dream. Johnny’s voice scoffed in her imagination.

Maybe suicide was still his intention, but it was obvious now to V the means of that demise had changed. Takemura couldn’t get Yorinobu now, but he could get her. The one who had promised to help him gain his revenge and then denied it for him forever.

V stood and quietly left through the tent flap, barely giving an appreciative nod to the guards out front as she staggered off to her own tent, feeling sick from the faint throb that had begun to pulse in the back of her neck… from regret. From guilt.

Her vision cut, lines of static racing across her sight and making shapes turn into nothing more than incomprehensible blurs. V felt the world shift and jerk from side to side, the ground rising up to meet her as she tripped over her own feet and fell with a thud to the dirt.

Even laying there, voices of alarm tuned out and far away, faces blurred and unidentifiable, V could feel the churning turning sensation as the Earth spun slowly through space. Falling, through silent cold space.

Like Jackie, like T-Bug. Like Johnny.

Like all the dead that had come before her. 

Breathing deeply, V curled her fingers into the red sand, and held on.

Not yet, V. Not yet.