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h3catee · 2 months ago

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Introductions Are in Order

Paring: Robert Reynoldsx Fem!Witch Reader! Past Avenger!

Summary: Bucky asks a favor of you and ends up getting you entangled with one of Valentinas ploys.

Warnings: SPOILERS FOR THUNDERBOLTS*, talks of mental health, depression, anxiety. Some violence (bc its marvel), some language. Trauma. Angst. Decent amount of Hurt/ With some comfort!

Word count: 2.7k

AN: Hi! Welcome to my fic! this is probably multi part idk my plans yet. I'm leaning more towards multi-part bc I'm usually a chapter by chapter writer so there isn’t a lot of Bob in this one but I hope its a good intro to maybe a 2-3 parts. I literally fell in love with Bob's character during Thunderbolts and this man gave me motivation to write again. I didn't have a Beta reader for this one so pls forgive any grammer or silly mistakes. Forewarning (y/n)’s powers based off of the Marvel character Morgan le Fay just to throw that out there, she’s definitely not Wanda but definitely not Morgan. Think morally gray/ hates everyone except like 3 people/ witch trained by the past avengers. Next part will have more Bob I promise, just wanted to introduce the story here >:3

Song for the chapter: https://open.spotify.com/track/09fDemXgXzRReTfb7UWxjD?si=7e0b5d606b824813

xoxox

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“I need your help with something.”

You sighed heavily before responding, “Hello to you too Senator Barnes!” You heard the man grumble from the other phone line.

“You know I hate when you call me that,” Bucky said.

“Well…what do you want, Buck?” You said, rolling your eyes. You look around your empty apartment for something to fidget with while Bucky chews your ear off about calling him another stupid nickname.

“Y/N, Valentina’s got this guy apparently named Bob-”

“Bob?” You ask, cutting him off. Who names their kid Bob in this day and age?

“Yes, Bob! I’m with Nat’s sister and she said we have to go get him because he’s part of some Sentry project,” He explained, voices yelling at him in the background of the phone call. “Can you just meet us at the tower?”

A wave of nausea rolled over you, “The tower? Bucky, I don't go around there anymore.”

“I know, but I wouldn’t be calling you if I had anyone else to call.”

“How nice,” you taunt. You were never any of the Avengers first calls. To be fair you weren’t sure if it is because they were scared of you or your lack of social skills. “Also Nat’s sister?”

“Later,” Which means he says he’ll tell you later but in reality he’s never going to bring it up again unless you find the answer yourself.

You sigh, walking over to the bookshelf in your apartment that’s filled with books, both regular and magical, and pictures. Your hand brushes across a photo of yourself, Steven Strange, and Wanda, “I don’t fight anymore Bucky. You couldn’t just ask Sam?”

“He’s uhmm..busy,” He answered, “I know how you’re feeling y/n.”

“You don’t,” You interrupt. How could he possibly understand how you’re feeling when he barely reaches out to you unless he needs something. Him and the rest of the remaining team abandoned you, after Wanda, you had no one to turn to. You felt the all too familiar dull ache in your chest. You chewed on the skin around your nails waiting for Bucky to respond.

“ I think we need you for this one.” Which means in Bucky terms that whoever they are fighting is a mutant and something he can’t fight.

“Fuck,” You mutter to yourself.

Ever since Wanda vanished you refused to step back out on the field.She was the only one that truly knew what you were capable of considering she was the one that found you all those years ago. Not even Thor, a god, could hold you back during training sessions and the only avenger to understand your pain was Wanda. And now she’s-

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath to ground yourself. You haven’t been able to sense her magic anywhere. No matter what realm you went to, you couldn’t find her.

Fuck you Bucky Barnes.

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“She already knows we’re here,” You try to explain to the group in front of you. Bucky gave you and the rest of the team a run down of Sentry and what Mel, Valentinas assistant, told him about Bob. That doesn’t stop them from driving a truck through the lobby destroying the front of the building in the process, “Awesome,” You have no choice but to join the fight to defend the group. Defense only, you tell yourself

While Walker has his back turned, a soldier on the ground fires a few stray bullets, you toss your hand up and redirect the shots to the wall behind him, “Watch yourself walker,” You growled. Before he could reply you went back to the fight. Using your magic to cast illusions into the minds of the soldiers fighting to give the group an advantage when attacking.

“I just had that drywall put in. You can just come up, you know that right.” Valentina’s voice rang out over the intercoms, “But I know you knew that already y/n. Come on up!”

Yelena and Ava looked at you, knowing you had previously stated that and they had just refused to listen. You just rolled your eyes at them before motioning them to go in the elevator.

“You are not coming,” Yelena asked as the group of 5 squeezed into the elevator.

You shake your head before pointing up. You close your eyes and feel the familiar stomach reeling feeling of teleporting to where the penthouse once was. Where you shared few but long lasting memories. Your eyes wander across the empty walls and fairly empty room before you look at Val.

“Ah! Y/N, so lovely to see you darling. You see I’ve always wanted to work with you,” The woman said.

“Can’t say the same,” You said in a sarcastic tone.

“Hmm, well maybe he’ll change your mind.” You just raise an eyebrow.

You don’t have the chase to question her because Bucky and the team come through the elevator doors ready to arrest her for crimes. You look between each person and back to Valentina, honestly not sure what is going on.

That's when you feel it. A humming. Power. You look around only to notice no one else in the “Thunderbolts”, as Alexie is calling them, notices it. You try to pinpoint a mind to tap into to find where this power is from but you can’t, a black shadow blocking you out. Shit.

“Meet Sentry.”

You look up to where a man is clothed in a…ugly suit, with unnaturally yellow blonde hair.

“Hey guys,” He greats. You study him for a second, the power dripping off of him but there's something else there, something all too familiar. You try to invade his mind but there's something keeping you out. You pull and claw at the black void keeping you out.

“Y/n.” You vacate the attempt on his mind and meet his eyes. You cock your head to the side, he knows what you were doing, “That won’t work,” his voice coming out cautious.

“Take care of them Robert,” Valentina orders.

“I don’t want to hurt you guys,” Bob says, looking around at all of them in front of him, “Please just give yourselves in.”

“Wait-” Yelena tries to interrupt.

Alexie yells before running towards the man. Instead of following the rest of the team you stand back and observe. Everything they throw at him gets blocked or countered. Teleportation. Flight. Strength.

Bucky shoots at Bob only for the bullets to be sprayed back at him and Walker. You hold your hand up blocking the bullets and directing them towards the already broken window. Thats when Sentry notices you.

“I knew I liked her,” Walker says to Bucky, getting ready to fight again.

“Wanda’s not here to save you this time.”

You barely move after hearing the voice in your head when the rest of the Thunderbolts move to attack Bob. You shake your head as if to clear your thoughts but you feel his eyes on you. Instead of the blue you saw earlier, Bob’s eyes have a golden hue.

“She left you, just like you told her to.”

“Stop,” You whisper to yourself, rage boiling beneath your skin.

The fight breaks out and you watch as Bob grabs Bucky's Arm.

“God damnit,” You whisper, before running towards the two to save Bucky. Bob tosses Bucky to the side, his arm now torn off. You shot a blast of energy towards him only for him to teleport out of the way. I don’t want to hurt you, You try to telepathically tell him.

“You can’t hurt me,” He says aloud.

“Says who,” You taunt. Your feet leave the floor before you can’t register your rage taking over. Blast after blast and nothing is hitting him.

He teleports in front of you and grabs your neck. What he doesn’t expect is to look behind you and see a beach. A sunset. He furrows his brows as he looks around in confusion.

That gives you enough time to grab his wrist and teleport out of his grasp.

The illusion collapses around the two of you as you lose contact. With every fight you’ve been in, usually your opponent will be thrown off once coming out of the illusion but Bob…He raises a hand before you can counter and you slam into the concrete wall of Avengers Tower, the wall cracking behind you.

You feel an arm hook under your shoulders and begin to drag you to the elevator which you see is already occupied with the rest of the team besides you and Yelena. “Get off of me,” You grumble. You teleport out of her grasp and out of the tower completely. Your knees are wobbly beneath you and you assess your surroundings. Guard still up.

“Are you hurt?” You turn and see Bucky running towards you, the rest of the Thunderbolts following in suit.

“You know I’m not,” You used your magic to heal yourself immediately after the hit, “I tried to help Buck but I’m not strong enough anymore. I’m leaving.”

“No, let us regroup and we can go back in,” Alexie tries to argue.

“All of you just got your asses beat, you especially-”

“Well I am just rusty but now I am ready to go,” The older super soldier bellows.

You see Yelena put a hand over her eyes. You just laugh out of disbelief and begin to walk down the street.

“Wait y/n,” Bucky follows after you, “Just wait-”

You turn, he can feel the rage dripping off of you, “What!” You shout, “What do you want from me?”

He just stares at you, “I was going to ask if you were okay.”

You laugh, “Am I okay? God, you should've asked me that when Tony died. Or when I lost Vision and then lost Wanda. Or Nat. Or Steve.”

“You acted like you didn’t even care about half of the team, what did you expect me to do?” He argues.

“I didn’t want to hurt any of you!” You exclaim, letting your emotions run wild on the streets of New York, “If you think that up there I used all my power, you're wrong. I didn’t want to hurt any of you so I stayed away.”

“But Wanda-”

“But Wanda understood me, more than you or Tony or any of them. You don’t understand what I went through, what I’ve done. Bucky, you don’t know who I really am.”

There was commotion behind you, taking your concentration away from the conversation. Citizens were pointing up towards the sky. You and Bucky exchange glances before running to where you could have a clear view of what they were looking at.

A shadow of man floated above Avengers Tower. You watched as he raised a hand and all of a sudden a helicopter came crashing into a crane. Concrete and rubble began to fall from the buildings that were hit. People were screaming.

Typical avenger in New York occurrence.

You and Bucky split off to protect the people from being crushed. You used your magic to stop concrete from crushing a family and urged them to get into a building.

“You’re alone,” You turned to see the man closer to you now. You recognized the voice from just minutes ago, Bob, “You’ve always been alone.” You just stare at him, “It eats you alive doesn’t it, y/n.”

People are screaming, you turn to look behind you and see shadows of people spread across the floor in dark black smoke. You heart drops, what the fuck is this guy.

“The pain goes away. Just come with me,” Bob captures your attention once again, “I can make it go away.”

“How?” You whisper. He reaches a hand out to you.

“Y/n! Stop!” Bucky shouts behind you but something in your mind is telling you to go. Telling you that everything will stop if you accept his hand. Everything will be quiet. Will the pain finally go away?

“Y/n,” The distorted voice urges.

That’s when you close your eyes and walk into the void.

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You open your eyes and find yourself in an all too familiar room. One lined with archaic symbols preventing you from escaping. Your heart drops because you see yourself, younger, wounded, broken standing on the other side of the room.

You know this day, you recognize it by the energy alone. This was the first time you killed someone. The first time you disintegrated someone's body and brain.

“Y/N, Before you is a man who is being convicted of crimes against countless women, including your own mother,” You watched as your younger self balled her hands into fists, “Your task is to eliminate him.”

Younger you nodded.

“N-no,” You ran over to where you stood and wrapped your arms around your younger self, “you don’t have to do this,”

“Get off of me,” Your body is thrown a few feet away from your younger self. That's when you feel it, the pain of a curse of 1000 sharp white-hot knives digging into you, you scream and writhe on the floor. That was your punishment when you were captured, if you ever disobeyed or failed, they cursed you over and over.

“Stop,” You sob, the curse diminishing, “Stop,” You whisper, tears falling onto the floor beneath you. Your mind whirls and your limbs ache, like you’re gripped by a fever that burns through you like wildfire.

“Y/n?” A male voice.

You look towards a doorway where Bob stands, not Sentry, not Void but Bob. You squeeze your eyes shut to stop crying.

“Oh god, I-I’m so sorry,” He runs over to you, “I-I can’t stop it,” He apologized.

“I don’t understand,” Your voice comes out as a whisper, “What is this?” You finally sit up and watch the rest of the scene play out in front of you.

You watch as younger you raises her hand towards the man and he begins to scream in agony. You watch as his skin flairs and melts.

“Don’t look,” Bob urges, grabbing your arm and pulling your attention from the memory. There are tears in his blue eyes. He has brown hair now instead of the fake gold that Val gave him. He’s clothed in a sweater and tan pants. He honestly looks like he’s going to pass out. “I can’t do anything right, I’m so sorry,” He mumbles, “I-I don’t even know you and you’re stuck here with me. It’s this…void.”

“How do we get out?” You ask, looking down to study your shaking hands.

“I-I don’t know. There’s different rooms and each one just gets worse. I’m so sorry Y/n,” He begins to cry. Your heart shatters for a moment thinking about what he must go through if he deals with this constantly, now with the serum it must have fully taken over him.

“Let’s just get out okay,” You place your hand on his thigh and he tenses beneath you. You squeeze his leg in reassurance before standing up, “P-please don’t tell anyone what you saw, I-I can’t. No one knows.”

“I won’t, Why would I tell them?” He asks sincerely. All you can do is nod, “Y-you can trust me.” Once again, you just nod.

“Do you think everyone else is in here?” You ask, trying to change the topic.

“M-maybe,” He saying, shrinking in on himself.

“Hey, it’s okay, I’m fine. We’ll all be fine,” You soothe, “Let’s just find them.”

Thats how you ended up finding the team, fighting Bob in a chicken outfit, and getting out of the void. Only to have Valentina throw a new title on the group right after.

The New Avengers. Including you. Awesome.

And that’s how you ended up here, living in the tower after some much needed renovations. Bob didn’t remember anything after the Void incident but something told you to tell him. So you showed him through your magic. He apologized profusely to the team and kept his distance since then. Honestly, he reminds you a lot of yourself when you first joined the Avengers with Wanda. But you refuse to let him fall into that dark of a hole like you did.

You want to save someone for yourself, for once. You want to save him.

part two!

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lovemni · 4 months ago

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“nerds don't date , right?” iii ⎯ how to ruin a nerd's life 101

[ 정인 ] ✷ ‎. . the event is pretty close, and your wardrobe is underwhelming. thank the lord, some chic nerd is at your rescue.

۫ 𖨂 𓈒 𝑛erdy!jeongin ₊ ‎ ‎ 𝑓em!reader ˙ . ꒷ g. fluff , humour , crack , forced proximity , classmates to lovers , uni au , fake dating , skz ensemble . 58OOw. ⎯⎯⎯ LiBRARY ⟢ cw. nicknames ?? as of now . ┆ 📹 ⋮ a y.ji mini series .ᐟ ֹ ₊

yani's note! 𑁍ܓ the amount of love this series is getting omg >< thank you !! also, i'm literally less than 5 followers away from 1k !! <3 late update, mocks are getting closer.... anyway, happy reading!

read the last chapter here.

"a terrible wardrobe crisis. that's what this is." ⎯ lee felix.

you and yeji's shared dorm was in shambles.

it looked like an overexcited tornado had ripped through the room, leaving behind nothing but chaos, laughter, and felix dramatically flailing over your (apparently) inadequate wardrobe.

your brown luggage bags lay open in the middle of your room, half-filled and overflowing. your beige-pink wardrobe stood wide open, its doors barely hanging on from the sheer force with which yeji had yanked them earlier. clothes were scattered everywhere—on your bed, on the floor, even draped over felix's outstretched arms as he inspected each piece with a face of horrified judgment.

"how—how do you live like this?" julie gasped, clutching a plain white t-shirt like it was a crime scene.

ryujin groaned into your pillow, sprawled lazily on your bed next to yeji, who was scrolling through her phone like she wasn't in the middle of this fashion emergency.

"guys, i literally do not care. just pack some shorts and a couple of tank tops, and boom, you’re set."

felix gasped so loudly you thought he might faint. "absolutely not," he said, voice filled with betrayal. "never ask ryu about fashion ever again, please." he turned to you, eyes wide, like this was the most crucial moment of your life.

"y/n, you are going to a summer trip with your fake boyfriend’s family, and you don’t even own a single—" he looked down at your pile of rejected clothes, "—decent sundress?"

you groaned, dropping onto your carpeted floor with your head in your hands. "it’s not that deep. it’s not like i’m trying to impress them or something! they seem pretty happy with me already,"

julie, still horrified, threw a beige oversized hoodie at you. "that’s where you’re wrong, babe. you are not just some random guest on this trip. you’re jeongin’s girlfriend."

yeji snorted. "correction! fake girlfriend."

julie ignored her. "do you understand the weight of that? the prestige? you have to look like the cool, effortless, stunning girl that yang jeongin—god bless him—the fashion icon of the entire uni himself— managed to bag."

ryujin blinked. "prestige?"

"hey! i'll have you know i am very fashionable myself. my wardrobe is just... not in the mood right now."

felix nodded sagely, ignoring you completely. "exactly. if she doesn’t look incredible, the aunts and uncles will start asking questions."

you whined, throwing yourself backwards onto the floor. "i don’t even own summer clothes!"

felix dramatically sank to his knees next to you, cradling a polka-dotted blouse you hadn’t worn in two years. "i know. and it hurts me."

yeji finally glanced up from her phone, unimpressed. "what do you even wear when it’s hot?"

you gestured at your usual attire—loose or flared jeans, oversized graphic tees, random strap tops, a pink zip-up hoodie despite it being way too warm outside.

julie covered her eyes like she was physically in pain. "no. nope. no! you are not dressing like a teen who just hit puberty on this trip."

"i have style," you defended weakly.

felix raised a skeptical eyebrow. "do you?"

ryujin huffed. "okay, fine, let’s actually try picking outfits before felix faints from sheer disappointment."

felix nodded, regaining composure. "yes. let’s. y/n, show me what summer clothes you actually have."

you sighed, crawling over to your wardrobe. you reached inside and pulled out the first thing you saw—a simple white crop top.

julie squinted. "it’s… okay. where are your maxi skirts?"

you bit your lip. "i only wear miniskirts, you all know that!"

felix collapsed onto the floor, gripping his chest. "god is testing me."

yeji, deadpan, turned to ryujin. "do we need to call an ambulance?"

"no, let him suffer," ryujin muttered.

ignoring them, you dug through your closet, pulling out a pair of denim shorts, beside a flowy miniskirt and a loose floral blouse you had shoved in the back from last year. "okay, how about these?"

julie pursed her lips. "cute, pretty, but it doesn’t scream ‘jeongin’s super chic girlfriend.’"

felix peeked over, nodding slightly. "it could work if you accessorize properly. add some layered necklaces, cute sandals, maybe style your hair differently—"

ryujin groaned. "you’re acting like she’s going to a fashion show. it’s a family trip."

thank you, at least i have some defense."

julie pointed at her aggressively. "family trips are the worst place to be underdressed. you never know what kind of rich aunt is judging you from across the dinner table."

felix shuddered. "exactly."

you let out a long sigh, flopping onto your bed next to ryujin. "why am i even doing this? it’s not like jeongin even cares."

yeji smirked. "oh, babe. it’s not about jeongin. it’s about you."

felix nodded solemnly. "you cannot lose to this bet."

julie grinned, nudging you. "you have to make him fall for you."

ryujin yawned. "that is so much effort."

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smirk on your lips. "you guys are acting like i’m not already winning."

felix gasped, shaking you by the shoulders. "that’s the confidence we need,"

you grinned. "that topper is definitely going to fall for me. he’s already been staring at me when he thinks i don’t notice."

yeji raised an eyebrow. "oh? receipts?"

you gasped, eyes lighting up, sitting up. "at the hill the other night—"

"oh my god," felix and julie squealed.

ryujin groaned, shoving a pillow over her head. "stop. stop being in love."

"i’m not in love," you scoffed. "but he is definitely falling first."

yeji snorted. "if he’s even capable of emotions."

felix gasped. "you take that back."

julie giggled. "okay, okay, but back to business. we have, what—four days before the family wedding? we need to find you something for that and the summer trip."

you groaned, collapsing into the pile of clothes on your bed. "i hate this."

felix patted your head. "it’s okay, hun. we’ll make you hot."

you peeked up at him. "i’m already hot."

julie rolled her eyes, grinning. "fine, we’ll make you unstoppable."

felix gasped, eyes shining. "omg. i’m so excited."

ryujin sighed, stretching. "cool. have fun with that. i’m gonna nap."

yeji shoved her over. "not in my bed, you’re not."

you should’ve seen this coming.

after the absolute fashion disaster that was your packing session, it was only a matter of time before felix and julie forcefully dragged you to the nearest shopping district, ryujin and yeji tagging along as your (mostly amused) moral support.

the first stop? summer clothes.

the only problem? felix and julie were treating this like a full-blown makeover mission.

"no."

you blinked at felix, who stood in front of you with his arms crossed, shaking his head so aggressively that his blond hair practically shimmered under the store lights.

"what do you mean no?" you asked, looking down at the beige linen shorts and white cropped tank top you had just picked out. "this is literally so cute."

julie groaned, throwing herself onto one of the store’s plush stools like this was physically hurting her. "it’s cute, yes, but it’s giving—" she gestured vaguely, "neutral instagram influencer who only drinks matcha."

"what’s wrong with that?"

yeji snorted, scrolling through her phone. "nothing, except you’re supposed to be jeongin’s effortlessly hot girlfriend, not someone who exclusively shops in the ‘clean girl aesthetic’ section of pinterest."

ryujin hummed, tossing a random hat onto your head. "i think she should just wear a trash bag. that way jeongin won’t fall for her."

felix gasped dramatically. "how dare you."

you sighed, rolling your eyes as you put the shorts back. "okay, fine. what do you suggest, then?"

felix’s face lit up as he practically sprinted toward a rack of dresses. "oh, i thought you’d never ask."

and that’s how you ended up with twelve different outfits shoved into your arms as you were pushed into the dressing room.

. . .

outfit #I : a bright yellow sundress with thin straps and a flowy, knee-length skirt.

you stepped out, raising an eyebrow at your friends. "thoughts?"

felix clasped his hands together. "sunshine incarnate, i love it."

julie tilted her head. "it’s cute, but is it ‘jeongin’s-girlfriend’ cute?"

yeji squinted. "hmm. i like the color. but maybe something a bit more…"

"hot," ryujin supplied, lying on the bench like she was exhausted.

julie nodded. "genius!"

you sighed, stepping back into the dressing room.

outfit #2: a deep red wrap-around top with a matching skirt.

you emerged again. "this?"

"damn mama," ryujin whistled. "now this is hot." she says, only to be jabbed at the shoulder by yeji, brow raised.

felix pursed his lips, tapping his chin. "sexy, confident, yet elegant. approved."

julie gasped. "oh my god, imagine jeongin seeing you in that."

yeji smirked. "he’ll die."

you rolled your eyes, fighting the heat rising to your cheeks. "we are not dressing to impress him, we’re dressing for the trip."

felix smirked. "sure, babe."

outfit #3: a white off-shoulder top with ruffled sleeves, paired with high-waisted denim shorts.

julie squealed. "oh, this is perfect for the beach!"

felix nodded. "it's so giving main character."

yeji snorted. "she is the main character."

ryujin, however, hummed. "i like it… but you need something for the nights too. something that says ‘i’m effortlessly attractive and totally not in a fake relationship.’"

"what outfit even screams fake relationship..?"

—

after several more outfit changes, you finally had a pile of approved clothes—flowy skirts, cute crop tops, a few dresses that definitely screamed "jeongin, you should totally fall in love with me!" and a couple of chic yet comfy beach fits.

you huffed, collapsing onto the store bench. "are we done?"

julie checked the shopping bags. "for summer? yes."

felix grinned. "but now… wedding outfits."

you pulled out your phone to check the time, when you noticed the notification of a missed call. so, you were scrolling to jeongin’s contact before pressing call.

after a few rings, he picked up.

"what do you want?"

you grinned, putting him on speaker. "is this the way to treat your pretty girlfriend, topper?"

yeji and julie burst out laughing as you heard jeongin sigh on the other end. "i’m hanging up."

"you're the one who called me twenty minutes ago."

"that, was twenty minutes ago."

"okay, and now it's twenty minutes later. why'd you call?"

"are you busy?"

blink.

"kind of..?"

"nevermind then."

"aw, is my boyfriend missing me?"

"delusional."

"truthful."

"annoying."

"happy to be of service!"

"y/n, are you coming? we're gonna leave!" julie called out from a few steps away.

"well, as much as i'd love flirting with you, i have some... business to continue with"

"and that is?"

"don't ask why, but i was miserably dragged to go shopping with the others. for our coming trip."

you could hear him frowning. "trip?"

"yeah? our trip, you know, the one where i’ll be your stunning fake girlfriend in front of your family?"

"thank god you're getting a new wardrobe."

"where in the world did that come fr-"

"y/n l/n!" a certain displeased blonde called out.

"coming, coming,"

"i gotta go," you sighed. "i got some really cute outfits, by the way. felix and julie are making sure i look extra hot. should i send you pictures?" you giggled.

"no."

felix gasped dramatically. "wow, rude."

"where the fuck did you come from?"

"you’re all insane," jeongin muttered.

"aww, does the hot nerd feel overwhelmed?" yeji teased from behind.

"i’m literally hanging up."

ryujin chuckled. "you totally should’ve expected this."

jeongin groaned. "i regret everything."

you laughed, twirling a lock of hair around your finger. "see you soon, topper."

the call ended with a very unhappy jeongin. or so you thought.

felix cackled. "oh, he’s so screwed."

julie smirked. "and you are so winning this bet."

you grinned, standing up and grabbing your bags. "now, let’s go find a dress that’ll make his entire family question how he managed to date someone so hot."

felix beamed. "now that’s the attitude we love."

. . . later.

you should’ve known felix was up to something.

the way he kept glancing at his phone, the mischievous glint in his eyes every time you held up an outfit—yeah, something was definitely going on.

but you? you were too busy suffering under the weight of yeji’s and julie’s enthusiasm to question it.

"why am i even doing this?" you groaned, throwing yourself against the dressing room door as yeji shoved yet another hanger into your hands. "it’s just a wedding. i’ll wear something decent, i promise."

felix scoffed, crossing his arms. "decent is not an option. you are the chic girlfriend of the man who literally has fashion bloggers thirsting over his outfits."

julie nodded sagely. "we cannot let you disgrace his name."

ryujin, who was sitting comfortably on one of the store’s plush chairs, simply raised an eyebrow. "why do i feel like felix is taking this more seriously than the actual wedding?"

"because i am," felix declared dramatically, hands on his hips. "this is war."

"okay, try this on!" yeji said, practically throwing a pastel blue dress at you.

"what’s wrong with the one i already picked?" you grumbled, looking down at the sleek brown dress in your hands.

felix gasped. "absolutely not." he snatched it away so fast it nearly ripped. "this? for a summer wedding? sweetheart, are you trying to look like a wannabe mafia attending a funeral?"

you rolled your eyes. "it’s not even black!"

"it's close to it! and it’s literally giving ‘revenge after being left at the altar,’" julie added, shaking her head.

you groaned. "i literally do not care."

"well," yeji smirked, "jeongin will."

you froze, eyes narrowing. "what do you mean?"

felix, suspiciously, looked at his phone again. "oh, nothing."

ryujin suddenly sat up straighter, a knowing smirk on her face. "wait a second…"

before you could react, your phone rang.

and of course, it was him.

"hold on," you furrowed your brows, feeling suspicious of him, but he just flashed you a bright, innocent smile.

sighing dramatically, you answered the call, bringing the phone to your ear. "do you miss me that bad?"

"are you seriously about to buy a black dress for a wedding?" jeongin’s voice came through, flat but incredulous.

you blinked. "how did you—? wait, in my defense, it's dark brown! it has sparkles and everyth-" you pause.

"lee felix."

you turned to glare at your traitorous friend, who was suddenly very interested in the store’s interior design.

"yang jeongin," you huffed, "i can wear whatever i want, and you can’t stop me."

"oh, i absolutely can, darling," he replied. "and i will. i’m on my way."

"what?"

"see you!"

the line went dead.

you stared at your phone in horror. "he’s coming here?"

felix beamed. "oh, he’s definitely coming here."

"i will actually commit a crime," you muttered, rubbing your temples. "felix, why did you do this?"

"because," felix said, "you dress like a hot girl, but this is a wedding. a yang family wedding. if you walk in looking like the ceo of enemies to lovers, inc., jeongin’s gonna have an aneurysm."

ryujin shrugged. "he’s not wrong."

"god save me from these people," you groaned.

yeji patted your shoulder. "no, babe, trust me, we’re the best! now, get in there and try on the dresses before jeongin shows up and lectures you in real time."

"too late for that," julie muttered, eyes widening as she glanced toward the entrance.

you followed her gaze—and there he was.

dressed in a perfectly tailored gray blazer, black slacks, and a white button-up with the top two buttons undone, he looked like he had just stepped off the cover of some high-end fashion magazine. his black hair fell slightly over his glasses, sharp jawline extra sharp as he scanned the store like he was here on a mission.

"oh, we are so screwed," ryujin whispered.

felix grinned. "speak for yourself. this is the best day of my life."

his fox eyes finally landed on you—and immediately trailed down to the brown dress you were holding.

deadpan. "no way, felix, was she actually going to buy that?"

"yes!"

you huffed, shoving it behind you. "..no."

"liar," felix muttered, earning a glare from you.

jeongin exhaled through his nose before walking over, hands tucked into his pockets. "step aside. i’m picking her outfit."*

"excuse me?" you scoffed. "who died and made you the fashionista?"

jeongin raised an unimpressed eyebrow. "literally everyone who’s ever reviewed my outfits."

felix nodded. "he’s not wrong."

yeji, julie, and ryujin just watched in fascination as jeongin scanned the store, plucked a dress off the rack, and handed it to you. "try this on."

you frowned, looking down at it.

it was a dusty rose satin dress, with delicate, leafy lace detailing on the sleeves and a soft, flowy skirt that cinched at the waist. classy, elegant, but not over-the-top.

you blinked. "oh."

"oh?" jeongin repeated, tilting his head. "what happened to all that attitude?"

you cleared your throat. "i didn’t say i liked it yet."

"you do," he said flatly. "go try it on."

you narrowed your eyes at him but sighed, snatching the dress and marching into the dressing room. "you better not laugh."

"oh, i would never, lovely," he said—then promptly smirked at felix the second you closed the door.

. . .

when you stepped out, the entire store fell silent.

well honestly, your friends did. because the boutique was already pretty empty.

back to the point.

the dress was perfect.

the satin fabric hugged your waist just right, the lace detailing adding a touch of grace, and the skirt flowed effortlessly when you moved. the dusty rose color somehow made your skin glow.

julie clasped her hands together. "oh, wow."

ryujin, for the second time, looked mildly impressed. "damn."

yeji was already taking pictures. "dang topper, you snapped."

you turned to look at him. "well?"

jeongin didn’t say anything at first.

his dark eyes just slowly scanned you from head to toe, his lips slightly parted, before he blinked and looked away. "it’s good."

"just good?" felix scoffed. "sir, you are staring."

jeongin shot him a glare, adjusting his glasses. "whatever. let's just buy it."

you grinned. "so, you like it, topper?"

"i literally picked it out. come on, let's check out," jeongin muttered, already turning toward the checkout.

felix nudged you, whispering, "oh yeah, he’s so losing the bet."

you just smirked, following after him. "three months, yang. you’re doomed."

and if jeongin’s ears were slightly red as he paid for your dress?

well.

that was just a bonus.

"what a gentleman."

shopping for a dress was already exhausting, but accessories?

oh, you were in hell.

normally, if you weren't being dragged around, sent to trial rooms, and shoved random pieces of clothing, all day long, you know you'd enjoy this.

you stood in the middle of a jewelry store, arms crossed, glaring at your so-called friends as they stared at you like you’d just confessed to a crime.

"you’re telling me," yeji said, dramatically placing a hand on her chest, "that this entire time, you’ve been a gold girlie?"

"yes," you deadpanned. "since birth."

julie’s jaw dropped. "why didn’t you say something sooner?"

you shot her a glare. "i literally said it four times since we got here, but all of you ignored me and dragged me to the silver section anyway."

ryujin gave felix a side-eye. "that’s on you, bro."

felix had the audacity to look offended. "i just thought silver would complement her skin tone!"

"i’ve been wearing gold for years—"

"and we’ve just been letting it slide?" yeji gasped. "have we ever even paid attention to your jewelry before?"

you scoffed. "clearly not, since i had to endure an entire thirty minutes of watching you people force silver necklaces around my neck like i was some kind of experiment. fake friends, really," you feigned hurt, wiping away a tear.

julie sighed, rubbing her temples. "god, we are terrible friends."

"thank you," you huffed, flipping your hair. "now, let’s go to the gold section where i belong."

felix muttered something under his breath about you being dramatic, but you ignored him.

so, once you were finally in the correct section, things went much smoother.

for about five seconds.

because then jeongin decided to start having opinions.

"not that one," he said, reaching out and plucking the dainty gold chain from your fingers.

you blinked up at him. "excuse me?"

"too thin," he said simply, placing it back and picking up a different one. "try this instead."

you narrowed your eyes. "i don’t recall you being my stylist, yang."

"i don't recall you being my girlfriend, but here we are,"

"that was literally jisung's fault."

jeongin gave you a pointed look. "anyway, i kinda am your stylist right now. if you show up to my family’s wedding looking like an embarrassment, it’ll be my embarrassment too."

felix smirked. "damn, he’s really treating this like an investment."

"oh my god that rhymed-"

you rolled your eyes. "fine, what do you suggest, fashion maven?"

"someone's been playing way too much dti.."

without missing a beat, jeongin reached for another gold chain—this one slightly thicker, but still delicate, with a small moon pendant hanging from the center.

"this one," he said, handing it to you.

you stared at it for a moment before looking back at him. "why this one?"

"because it suits you," he said, completely straight-faced.

you blinked.

okay.

well.

that was unexpected.

you cleared your throat, quickly breaking eye contact. "it’s not terrible," you mumbled, turning toward the mirror.

felix grinned behind you. "guys what if we're all wrong and it's actually her that ends up losing the bet?" he whispered.

you turned your head side to side, admiring them in the mirror. "alright, fine, yang. you have decent taste."

"decent?" he scoffed. "i’m literally saving your reputation."

"oh, you are so full of yourself," you muttered.

"and yet, you’re taking all my suggestions," he shot back, smirking.

felix cackled. "i love you them, your honor."

julie nodded. "they’re like an old married couple."

you and jeongin both turned to look at them. jeongin spoke, "we are not."

"not yet!" you only squealed.

later.

the days passed way too quickly, and now, the morning of the wedding was pure chaos.

your shared dorm room looked like a fashion battlefield. open makeup palettes were scattered across the desk, curling irons and hair straighteners cluttered the floor, and your bed was drowning under a mountain of lipsticks, highlighters, and jewelry boxes.

julie was hunched over the floor, rifling through a pile of hair accessories, while yeji stood in front of you, arms crossed, assessing your face like an artist staring at a blank canvas.

"okay, so i’m thinking… soft glam?" yeji mused, tapping her chin.

"but with a little sparkle," julie added, eyes glinting. "i mean, this is a wedding. we have to make our girl glow."

felix, leaning against the wall, smirked. "jeongin’s gonna pass out."

ryujin, perched on your desk chair, nodded. "he won’t even have the words for it. imagine, the biggest and hottest nerd in university, standing there, watching his ‘fake’ girlfriend looking like an actual goddess."

you grinned. "oh, he’s gonna be so down bad."

minho, who was there for moral support (and probably just to witness the mess), snorted. "i feel like you guys are putting way too much effort into this for something that’s supposed to be fake."

you waved him off. "it’s about principle, minho. if i’m attending this wedding, i’m doing it fashionably."

yeji clapped her hands. "alright, no more talking. let’s get started."

you sat down in front of the large mirror, already giddy with excitement. yeji pulled out a dewy foundation, squeezing some onto a brush before carefully blending it into your skin.

"ooooh, this is nice," you hummed, tilting your head. "i feel expensive."

julie giggled. "you are expensive. you’re literally wearing jeongin’s money."

"true," felix mused. "that dress is basically his investment."*

minho, scrolling through his phone, raised an eyebrow. "does he know you’re using his money for world domination?"

"he literally bought all of this for her to not embarrass herself and him at the wedding. or so he says,"

yeji shushed everyone. "focus, people. we have work to do."

she moved on to your eye makeup, dusting a soft champagne shimmer over your lids before blending in warm brown tones for a subtle angelic effect. julie leaned in, swiping a bit of highlighter onto your cheekbones.

"okay, wow," ryujin muttered, staring at you through the mirror. "you look hot."

felix whistled. "jeongin’s not surviving this wedding."

you bit back a grin. "good. he better be speechless."

once your makeup was flawless, the group moved on to hair.

"loose waves or a sleek bun?" yeji asked, holding up a curling iron in one hand and a hair tie in the other.

"waves," julie said instantly.

"bun," minho countered.

felix shook his head. "half-up, half-down. elegant, but still fun."

yeji got to work, curling your hair into soft waves before pinning back the top section with delicate golden clips. the result? ethereal.

julie squealed. "you look like a princess."

felix nodded in approval. "jeongin is so screwed."

you twirled a strand of hair between your fingers, already imagining his reaction.

oh, he’s gonna lose his mind.

just as the finishing touches were being added, your phone buzzed on the desk.

you grinned, picking up instantly. "hey, topper."

there was a pause.

"why do you sound like you’re up to something?" jeongin finally said, suspicious.

"me?" you feigned innocence. "i’m just getting ready for the wedding."

"and she's always up to something." minho innocently called out.

"he's right.. anyway, are you done? i’m supposed to pick you up soon."

felix mouthed, ‘not yet,’ so you quickly responded, "nope, still in the middle of it."

jeongin groaned. "it’s been two hours. what are you guys doing, painting a mural?"

"excuse me," you huffed, "this is an art form."

julie took the phone from you. "quit it, yang, she’s going to be breathtaking, okay? let us do our work."

felix grabbed the phone next. "you’re gonna die when you see her, dude. we’re talking jaw on the floor, malfunctioning brain, speechless for a whole minute."

jeongin scoffed. "highly doubt it."

you smirked. "oh, you will, yang. mark my words."

he sighed. "whatever. just don’t take forever."

"patience, love," you teased. "perfection takes time."

jeongin hung up.

ryujin burst out laughing. "you are so annoying."

"and yet, he still picked up the call," you sang. "he’s already whipped."

soon enough, by the time you were fully ready, you stared at yourself in the mirror, stunned.

the dress—handpicked by jeongin himself—hugged you perfectly, shimmering under the soft dorm lights. your makeup was glowy, radiant, with just the right amount of soft elegance. your hair cascaded in perfect waves, the golden clips glinting like stars.

you grinned. "holy shit. i look amazing."

felix threw his hands up. "finally, some self-awareness."

julie wiped a fake tear. "our girl is glowing."

yeji beamed. "he is going to choke on his own spit."

ryujin smirked. "and we will be there to witness it."

minho sighed, shaking his head. "i’m leaving before i die from secondhand embarrassment."

the sound of a car horn echoed from outside the dorm building, cutting through the last-minute chaos still unfolding in your room. yeji, who had been making final, unnecessary adjustments to your hair, peeked out through the window, before gasping dramatically.

“he’s here.”

felix, standing beside you, whispered, “showtime.”

julie grabbed your shoulders. “you ready?”

you grinned, adjusting one of your golden earrings. “i was born ready.”

with that, you turned on your heel, smoothing down the fabric of your dress one last time before heading out the door, your friend group cheering you on like you were about to walk into a battle.

"oh, they grow up so quick." said a blonde.

as you stepped outside, the cool evening air met your skin, contrasting with the warmth radiating from your excitement. the moment you laid eyes on jeongin’s car parked by the curb, you smirked.

time to ruin a nerd’s life.

jeongin was leaning casually against the hood of his sleek, jet-black sedan, one hand resting in his pocket while the other held his phone. his black suit jacket was unbuttoned, the white dress shirt underneath crisp, a silver watch peeking out from his sleeve. his black hair, styled perfectly as always, slightly tousled in the wind. if you didn’t know better, you’d think he was posing for a magazine cover rather than waiting for you.

but the moment his gaze lifted and landed on you, you caught it.

a split second. a flicker.

his jaw almost dropped.

his eyes widened just a fraction, lips parting, breath stalling.

it lasted less than a heartbeat before he recovered, straightening his posture, face smoothing back into nonchalance like he hadn’t just malfunctioned at the sight of you.

damn, he was good.

you grinned, stopping in front of him. “see something you like, yang?”

jeongin huffed, eyes raking over you once more before tilting his head slightly. “i’ve seen better.”

you gasped, placing a hand over your heart. “you liar.”

his lips twitched, barely hiding a smirk as he opened the passenger door for you. “get in before you make us late.”

you made sure to take your time as you gracefully stepped into the car, your dress pooling around you as you sat. jeongin shut the door behind you before walking around to the driver’s side. as he slid in, you shot him a playful look.

“i know you almost fainted back there.”

jeongin scoffed, starting the engine. “please. i have an immune system strong enough to handle some glitter.”

you gasped again, dramatic. “this is gold, jeongin. not glitter. gold.”

he smirked, finally glancing at you as he pulled onto the main road. “and what’s the difference?”

you pointed at him. “that? that right there? that’s why you’re single. being a fashionista.”

jeongin let out a laugh, the rich sound filling the car. “i’m literally dating someone right now.”

you shrugged, adjusting your earring again. “right. fake. that means you’re still single, technically. which, i repeat, is because you don’t know the difference between glitter and gold.”

jeongin shook his head, exhaling through a smile. “you’re exhausting.”

“and yet, here you are, willingly spending time with me. interesting.”

he glanced at you from the corner of his eye, a small smirk still lingering. “not willingly. you just happen to be my only option for tonight.”

you scoffed. “please, your entire family is about to think we’re soulmates. try to act a little more obsessed.”

he groaned. “god, don’t remind me.”

the car settled into a smooth rhythm on the highway, the soft hum of the engine filling the space between conversations. the city lights stretched out beyond the windshield, a blur of gold and blue against the darkening sky. you rested your elbow on the door, cheek against your knuckles as you stared out at the view.

“so,” you said after a beat, “nervous?”

jeongin raised an eyebrow, hands firm on the wheel. “about what?”

“about bringing your totally real girlfriend to a family wedding?”

he exhaled a laugh. “not at all. i know how to handle them.”

you hummed. “and by handle, you mean avoid?”

“exactly.”

you grinned. “well, i’m excited.”

jeongin turned his head slightly. “you are?”

“yeah,” you mused. “i mean, i get to see you panic in real-time when your aunts start asking when the wedding is.”

jeongin groaned again, this time leaning back against his seat like he was already exhausted. “i swear, they’ll probably have a guest list prepared.”

you patted his shoulder reassuringly. “don’t worry. i’ll just tell them we’re taking it slow. maybe a destination wedding next year.”

jeongin shot you a glare, but there was amusement flickering beneath it. “if you say that, i’m leaving you in the parking lot.”

you gasped. “heartless.”

he only smirked, tapping his fingers against the wheel. “you knew that before agreeing to this.”

“agreeing?” you scoffed. “more like getting trapped. let’s not forget who set us up.”

jeongin exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “han jisung.”

you both sat in silence for a moment, before saying in unison—

“i hate him.”

laughter erupted between you two, the sound blending seamlessly with the steady hum of the car.

after the laughter faded, jeongin stole another glance at you. his gaze lingered a little longer this time, tracing the glow of the streetlights reflecting off your skin, the way your eyes seemed even warmer under the city’s golden hue.

“how do you do that?” he murmured.

you turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “do what?”

he hesitated for a split second before looking back at the road. “turn everything into a game. like you’re always winning something.”

you smirked. “because i am. i win at life.”

jeongin rolled his eyes. “that’s not what i meant.”

you watched him for a moment, your smirk softening just slightly. “i don’t know,” you admitted. “i guess… it’s more fun this way.”

he hummed, fingers tapping against the wheel again. “you don’t take things too seriously.”

“not true,” you corrected. “i just choose what to take seriously.”

he glanced at you again, this time studying you. “like what?”

you shrugged. “people, mostly. the ones i care about. the things that make them happy, the things that make them sad. everything else?” you smiled. “i don’t see the point in wasting energy.”

jeongin was silent for a moment. then—

“you’re kind of weird.”

you burst out laughing. “took you long enough to figure that out.”

his lips twitched, eyes flickering between the road and you. “still… i think it’s a weirdly nice way to live.”

you leaned back into your seat, looking out at the twinkling city lights. “well, duh. i’m awesomesauce.”

"i take everything back." jeongin muttered under his breath, shaking his head as he turned onto the exit leading toward the grand venue. the anticipation of the night ahead settled between you both, electric, humming beneath the surface.

and though he wouldn’t say it out loud, jeongin was beginning to think that maybe, he was going to lose this bet.

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the-xolotl · 1 year ago

Text

Take It Right.

Alastor x fem!reader

ᯓღ Warm-up snip — gift idea for my wife @denki-69

ᯓღ a/n: you got me; i love writing for Denki. at this point this is my entire life’s purpose. it’s to write filth with or for Denki.

SUMMARY: Alastor helps you take his knot when it’s still too big for you to take.

ᯓღ cw: knotting, womb fucking, cervix stretching, slight cumflation, slight mention of blood.

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED ON SIGHT. Thank you~♡

“You can take it sweetheart, I know you can,” he laughed lowly, radio filter tickling in your ear. Your eyes roll back feeling him put more pressure on your hips and feeling his fat cock sink in deeper. The knot at the base of his length had swollen impossibly large and it’s teasing at your entrance the further down he forces you. Admittedly, you’re a bit terrified at the sheer size of the stretch his cock already spread you, but the added circumference of the knot had you trembling from more than just pleasure.

“A-Al please… I can’t—” you know begging and pleading for mercy is useless. He’s made up his mind, and deep down you wanted it. It was the surface fear that currently wouldn’t let you simply let go. Even as you tried to relax feeling every inch go into your soaked pussy made you clench.

“Here,” he purred, guiding your hand between your legs, “Follow my rhythm, let go, focus on my voice,” his voice sent a delicious shiver down your spine. He pressed your fingers against your throbbing clit, rubbing in tight circles to help ease the aching pain that’s his knot pressing against your hole.

He’s so close to having his entire length inside you and it’s taking him all of his composure to not shove you down; you know, make you bleed now and apologize for it later. But he didn’t want to do that to you. Instead he’s taking his time; the amount of foreplay and eating out had you wet enough to make a stain on the bed and he had stretched you out a decent amount. And as much as he loved your snug cunt, the only draw back would have to be this.

Even still, it’s maddening how good and warm you feel sucking his cock in, the way you cried and moaned his name. He reveled in your trembling figure sitting on his lap basically fucked dumb when all he’s done is ease you down half his dick. And even with the attention to your puffy bud it’s already making you clench, you’re going to cum again. With your body tensing and back arching he feels your orgasm and juices dripping down him. You nearly right down scream already feeling overstimulated and overwhelmed.

He took the opportunity to thrust up into your waiting heat, the tip of his cock pressing and pushing a past your cervix made your entire body spasm. His tendrils shot out to grab you, pressing you harder against Alastor’s chest, keeping your legs spread open over his lap and a gag to keep in your high-pitch cries.

The searing warmth and tightness of your sex made him moan out your name. Truly the prettiest sounds you have ever heard now that he’s successfully nuzzled his knot inside you and is spilling deep into your waiting womb.

You feel his hot cum fill you up to the brim but the knot stopped it from spilling out. You’re fighting hard against your restrains; it’s painful as much as it’s arousing and pleasurable that the radio demon has forced his way inside you. Big, warm tears begin to fall even wetting his cheek as you seek to hide your face into the side of his neck for comfort.

Being a little dazed himself he’s barely babbling praises and coos, “That’s a good girl, that’s my girl. See? You fit perfectly. Made just for me.” They aren’t even coherent full thoughts but you sob and keen at his words.

When you feel a pressure in your belly the hand that had been rubbing at your clit goes to press on your belly. Swollen, full of cum. Full of his fawn. You’re clenching and cumming again. Alastor sucks in a breath, he needs to also take a minute from the overwhelming ecstasy, the hold on your hips only gets tighter, his claws begin to break skin and warm red liquid slowly drips down your thigh.

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highprettybabyy · 2 months ago

Text

Seeing Red

Part 8 - Breaking Bread

jenna ortega x fem!reader apocalypse au

summary: Y/N recovers from her injuries

warnings: enemies to lovers, typical apocalypse stuff, violence, blood, zombies, gore, maybe angst... some fluff...

AN: i love domestic fluff

word count: 3k

Part 7

—//—

(Jenna's POV)

Y/N hadn’t moved in hours.

Not since you stitched her up, hands shaking, blood caked in your fingernails. Not since her body had gone terrifyingly still. You’d cried into your knuckles until your ribs ached, until the nausea passed, until the only thing you had left was focus.

Now… all you had was waiting.

You sat on the edge of the coffee table with your elbows on your knees, rifle across your lap. Every few minutes, you stood. Paced to the window. Checked the barricade. Looked through the cracks in the boards. There was nothing out there. Nothing. You still checked.

Y/N had said this place was clear. She’d said she cleared it out herself. But how could it be? She was attacked just five minutes from here. Five minutes. You couldn’t stop replaying it - the way she collapsed, the sound she made, the blood. God, the blood.

Your chest felt like it might cave in.

You leaned over her again. Checked her pulse. Still there. Still steady. Her face was flushed but calm, lashes twitching slightly as she breathed. She didn’t look like she was in pain.

That helped. A little.

You sat back down. Ran a hand over your face. Then, without really thinking, you reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair off her forehead.

It was softer than you expected. Tacky with sweat.

She didn’t stir.

You let out a breath.

Okay. Okay. She was okay. You could breathe. You could-

You needed to move.

You stood up and started wandering. Quietly. Careful not to step on anything too loud. You didn’t know what you were looking for. Just needed to do something.

The house was a strange mix of fortress and memory. There were barricades, yes - but there were also photos on the walls. Drawings on the fridge. A little ceramic owl on the bookcase by the stairs.

It was her home.

And she’d kept it standing.

You found a stack of notes in the dining room. Maps, lists, inventory logs. Dozens of watches in a plastic container marked “SYNCHRONISED.” A line of entries detailed times, alarms, and distances. Another page showed rough sketches of what looked like a toy car circuit.

You stared.

No wonder the streets had been so quiet.

She’d used the watches. Set the alarms. Mounted them to something that could move. Lured the zombies away on purpose.

You felt your chest rise, then fall.

She hadn’t just been surviving. She’d been planning.

Somehow it felt safer.

Years of disagreeing on stupid topics and petty arguments should've made it feel like the opposite- but it didn't.

You moved through to the kitchen. Checked the cupboards. A decent stash of canned goods, some dried fruit, a university student appropriate amount of instant noodles. You peeked into the fridge - and actually smiled when you found a covered pan of what looked like stir fry. Cold. Slightly wilted. But edible.

You hesitated.

Then you ate it. Quietly. Slowly. Every bite tasting like something sacred. You were sure she wouldn’t mind. Probably.

Outside, the sun was dipping lower. You headed into the backyard through the kitchen door and stared at the rain collector. It was rudimentary - a couple of tarps strung over poles, funnelling into a barrel - but it worked. There was plenty enough water inside to wash with.

You found a pot and took it outside to fill. Found a clean rag. Set the pot on the stove, pressed the button to turn it on. It turned on.

You clapped a hand over your mouth to stop yourself from cheering.

You boiled the water to sterilise it, then let it cool until it was barely warm. Dipped the cloth in, wrung it out carefully, and returned to the couch.

You cleaned her wounds one by one. Silent. Focused. Trying not to breathe too loudly.

When her face twitched in her sleep, you gentled your hand immediately. Soothing in strokes. Whispering nothings like she could hear you- except, you'd probably not say anything if she was awake.

“It’s okay. You’re safe. Just a little longer.”

The cuts across her shoulder. The gash near her ribs. The bruises blooming over her thigh. You did what you could. Bandaged. Re-bandaged. Checked for infection. No heat. No smell. Not yet.

You wiped her face last.

Her lips were dry. Skin pale.

But she looked… peaceful.

God, she was beautiful.

You shook that thought away. You’d already let too many things slip.

You dragged two blankets and a stack of pillows off the nearby armchair and set up on the floor beside her. Laid your Glock within reach. Turned your body toward hers.

And for the first time in a long, long while-

You slept.

Not with one eye open. Not with your hand on a trigger. Just… slept.

(Y/N's POV)

You woke to pain.

Sharp, raw, bone-deep pain that throbbed behind your ribs and across your temple. You groaned before your eyes even opened, the sound dry and broken in your throat.

Everything hurt. Your head, your gut, your chest. You could barely move. Something was wrapped tight around your midsection. The air smelled faintly of antiseptic. And something else - something warm.

Blankets.

You blinked your eyes open and tried to sit up.

Bad idea.

You gasped through gritted teeth, muscles spasming in your stomach. Stars danced across your vision. You slumped back with a strangled whimper, forehead damp with sweat.

Then-

“Don’t move.”

A voice. Right above you. Steady. Firm. Familiar.

You turned your head slightly and saw her.

Jenna.

She was kneeling beside you on the floor, hair mussed, shirt wrinkled. Her eyes were wide - too wide - and her jaw was clenched so tightly it made your own teeth ache.

She looked like she hadn’t breathed in hours.

“Wha…” You licked your lips. Your voice was barely there.

She reached out - slowly - and placed two fingers against your wrist.

Checking your pulse.

Her eyes searched yours like she was looking for something behind them. Then her lips parted, and she asked:

“What was the name of that professor we had for public speaking?”

You blinked.

“What…?”

“Just answer the question.” Her voice cracked slightly, like she was holding something back.

You frowned. Memory was fuzzy, but not that fuzzy. “Uh… Dr. Vesnik. The one who looked like a wax candle and spat when he talked.”

A pause.

Jenna exhaled hard and sat back on her heels.

“Thank fuck,” she whispered.

You stared at her.

Then it hit you.

The question. The way she was watching you. The fear in her posture.

“Oh my God,” you rasped. “You thought I was-”

“You passed out,” she snapped, voice wobbling. “You stopped breathing for a second. You were bleeding everywhere. You-” She broke off. Rubbed the back of her hand across her mouth. “I didn’t know if you were gonna wake up.”

Something twisted in your chest. Not pain. Not exactly.

“Jenna-”

“No, don’t,” she said quickly. “Don’t do the thing where you pretend it doesn’t matter. It does.”

You swallowed.

The silence between you buzzed like static.

You shifted slightly, trying not to cry out as the pain lanced through your abdomen again.

She noticed. Of course she did.

“Here,” she murmured, moving closer. “Let me help.”

She adjusted the blanket around you, slipping a pillow under your shoulder. Her touch was careful, featherlight. Like she thought you’d shatter if she was too rough.

“I cleaned your wounds,” she said quietly. “Boiled water from the collector. Changed the bandages.”

You looked at her, blinking slow.

“You stayed.”

She shrugged, but the motion was stiff. “You would’ve died otherwise.”

“No.” You shook your head. “You stayed.”

Her lips parted, but nothing came out.

You stared at her for a long time.

“You didn’t have to.”

Her eyes darted away.

“Maybe I wanted to.”

The words hung in the air like smoke.

You weren’t sure what to say. Neither was she.

So instead, you reached for her hand - slow, tentative - and rested your fingers over hers.

She didn’t pull away this time.

The days passed in pieces.

Pain first. Then sleep. Then the hazy in-between, where time was soup and your body was glass. It was a blur of soft footsteps, rustling blankets, quiet humming, and the faint click of your front door locking and unlocking as Jenna came and went.

She never stayed gone long.

Sometimes you woke to her checking your bandages or replacing the damp cloth against your forehead. Other times you heard her muttering to herself while sweeping broken glass from the hallway, or rearranging the canned goods in the pantry like she needed them to be just right.

She was always doing something. Restless. Efficient. Calm on the outside.

You weren’t fooled.

On the third day, you finally managed to sit up on your own.

The movement made your side scream, and your ankle was still swollen and bruised. But you didn’t black out. That counted as a win. You hobbled slowly from the couch to the window, leaning your weight on the walls, and pulled back the curtain to peek outside.

Empty streets. Motionless trees. No snarls. No groans. Still safe.

She came back five minutes later, arms full of laundry from the upstairs bedrooms.

“You’re up,” she said, somewhere between surprise and scolding.

You gave her a tired smile. “Only took me three days.”

She didn’t smile back. Not yet. But she did set the laundry down and walk to your side.

“You should’ve called me,” she murmured, checking your stitches. “What if you ripped something?”

You shrugged, biting back a wince. “Then you’d get to sew me back up again. Your favourite.”

That earned you a very small, very reluctant eye roll.

You counted that as another win.

By the fourth day, you were able to walk the full length of the hallway and back. Jenna hovered like a mother hen. You made fun of her for it. She threatened to tie you to the couch.

Somehow, it worked.

When the pain dulled enough for longer conversation, you sat at the dining table with a heating pad against your ribs and let her talk you through gun handling. She broke down every part of her rifle, named each piece like she’d known them all her life. You’d held weapons before. You weren’t a stranger to fighting. But watching her talk about the tools that kept her alive - the reverence, the calm precision - it felt like seeing something sacred.

Later, you taught her how you’d lured away the zombies. Explained the watches, the race car, the alarm syncing. She asked questions. Smart ones. Took notes in your scavenged journal. She got it right away.

It was strange. How easily you fit. Like puzzle pieces that had spent years jammed into the wrong box.

She didn’t joke as much as she used to. But when she did - when she let it slip - it was quiet and sincere. And when she smiled, it reached her eyes now.

You caught yourself watching her too long more than once.

It was near sunset when it happened.

You were trying to fix the rain tarp outside - badly, slowly, but trying - and Jenna was sitting on the porch steps, fiddling with a knot of rope and listening to your instructions.

“Maybe I am a burden,” you said suddenly, wincing as you shifted your leg. “You haven’t said it, but I know what it looks like.”

Jenna looked up at you, eyes sharp. “Don’t start.”

“I’m not trying to guilt trip you. I just…” You shook your head. “You didn’t sign up for this. For me.”

“No,” she said slowly, “I didn’t.”

Your heart sank a little before she continued.

“But I’m here anyway. You didn’t sign up for me either.”

You met her gaze. It was steady. Grounding.

“I don’t think you’re a burden,” she said, voice softer now. “And even if I did - I think I’d still be here.”

You didn’t know what to say.

She took a breath. Looked down at the rope again.

“I never hated you, you know.”

You blinked. “Could’ve fooled me.”

“I know. I wanted you to think that.” She gave a half-smile, but it didn’t last. “You were the only person who could actually keep up with me. In class. In debates. Hell, even at parties. Everyone else just… fell in line. Not you.”

“I thought you were just trying to crush me,” you murmured.

“I was. But not the way you think.”

You stared at her.

She glanced up again, and this time her voice dropped.

“When I found you in that mall... I thought it was a dream. I thought I was losing it. I’d been alone so long. After what happened with my family… I didn’t think I’d ever feel okay again. But then you were there. Bloody. Snarky. Breathing.”

She paused. Her voice caught a little.

“I don’t know if I could’ve kept going if I hadn’t found you.”

You felt something deep and fragile in your chest begin to ache.

“Jenna…”

She stood quickly, brushing her hands on her jeans. “Anyway. That’s all I’m saying. Come inside before you pass out again.”

But her ears were pink.

And when you brushed past her on your way back in - just barely - her hand steadied your arm.

She didn’t let go right away.

By day five, the pain had faded to a dull hum, still loud enough to slow you, but no longer the tyrant it had been. You could move around the kitchen now, cautiously, hands bracing countertops, hips bumping drawers as you navigated the space like someone relearning their own home. You hadn’t realised how much you missed just… moving. Doing.

Jenna had claimed a corner of the kitchen table as her “tactical HQ.” A map of the area sat there now, covered in scribbles and markings that made sense to no one but her. Beside it: an old rag she used to polish her weapons, your lighter, and a pack of gum she insisted tasted like cardboard but kept chewing anyway.

It was weirdly domestic. The way she moved through your space without breaking it. The way you’d started finishing each other’s thoughts without trying.

That morning, you caught her staring out the living room window, arms crossed, lips slightly parted. You didn’t speak. You just passed her a cup of coffee - not great, but warm - and she took it without looking, murmuring a quiet “Thanks.”

You didn’t ask what she was thinking.

She didn’t offer.

But she sat closer after that.

By the afternoon, you were itching for something to do. So, bread.

Jenna, for all her stoicism, was surprisingly eager when you offered to teach her.

“You just want me to get flour in my hair,” she muttered, tying your old apron around her waist.

“I want you to do something stupid with your hands for once,” you said. “Let go of being hyper-competent.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Wow. Flirting’s gotten weird since the world ended.”

You smirked. “You wish.”

The dough was sticky. Jenna kneaded like she was trying to kill it. Flour exploded across the counter.

“God, it’s like a crime scene,” you wheezed, laughing despite yourself - which, in hindsight, was a mistake.

Pain shot through your ribs. You doubled over slightly, clutching your side, still laughing.

Jenna panicked. “Shit, shit-are you okay?”

You nodded, wheezing. “No- yes- I think- I think I’m dying of laughter.”

She groaned, but you caught the ghost of a smile before she turned away to find a cloth to wipe her hands. The bread ended up dense and dry.

You cut it anyway, slathered it in whatever preserved butter you had, and ate it like royalty.

It was perfect.

That night, while Jenna cleaned up, you made a plan.

You weren’t the kind of person who owed people things. Not like this. But she’d been there for you - really there - when you’d barely had the strength to breathe. And you’d promised her a warm meal, didn’t you?

You waited until she disappeared upstairs to check the traps on the window screens. Then you moved fast.

You pulled a thick cut of ribeye from the bottom drawer of the freezer earlier - one you’d hidden behind bags of frozen berries and forgotten veggie mix. You’d tucked it there days ago, when you first started planning this.

Now, it had thawed perfectly in the makeshift basin near the radiator.

You seasoned it simply - salt, pepper, a little oil - and pan-seared it until it hissed golden on both sides and tender . Avocado came next, mashed with salt and cracked red pepper, spread over toasted slices of bread.

Hashbrowns crisped in another pan. Coffee brewed low and slow in the French press. You moved on muscle memory alone, hands steady, heart oddly light. Ankle - aching.

By the time she came downstairs, everything was plated. Two mismatched forks. Two mugs of fresh coffee. The table cleared of maps and weapons. Just food. Warm, real, and waiting.

You heard her feet on the stairs before her voice floated in-

“Okay, so I’ve been smelling something for the past twenty minutes and I didn’t know if I was hallucinating or if you’d actually poisoned me in my sleep-"

She rounded the corner and froze.

You turned, already grinning.

She gasped. “No fucking way. Y/N.”

You said nothing. Just gestured to the table.

She covered her mouth with one hand. “This is- holy shit.”

You shrugged. “Told you I’d cook. You didn’t believe me?”

Jenna walked forward slowly, like you’d just built her a shrine.

“You made steak,” she whispered.

“You’ve earned steak.”

She sat down across from you like the meal might vanish if she blinked. Her eyes went wide as she picked up a fork, practically bouncing in place.

“This is insane. You didn’t have to-”

“I wanted to,” you said simply.

She looked at you. Really looked.

Then smiled. Wide. Unfiltered. Almost childlike.

It hit you like a truck.

You’d never seen her like this.

You hoped you’d get to see it again.

--//--

AN: see? it's fine! Y/N survived today :D

...

today.

Part 9

#jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega fanfic #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x y/n #lesbian fanfiction #lesbian #wlw #sapphic #wlw fanfiction #hpb.fanfics #hpb.jenna #hpb.seeingred

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angelwings-crossbowstrings · 1 year ago

Text

Chapter 29

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Slightly graphic depictions of labor and childbirth A/N: Maybe a cliffhanger. Maybe not. You'll have to read to find out! ;) Daryl is definitely ooc in this. I'm sorry, I tried to get as close as I could to how he might react. Also, the saying he uses is one we use in the south that means "how is that relevant?" You'll know it when you read it, lol.

“About 4cm now. Progressing nicely.” Hershel informed, wiping his hands on a cloth that Carol had provided.

Rick and T-Dog were out doing yet another night run in the van. It was also low on fuel but the map showed another town close by. Fuel, gloves, and other necessities were on the list. Glenn was on watch with Daryl for backup if anything happened. It wasn’t an ideal situation but it couldn’t be helped.

Thumper was calling the shots at that point.

Before the men had left, Daryl had confiscated all the blankets except for those that were for Lori and Carl. When Glenn began to complain, one look from the anxiety-driven archer had brought the young man very close to hiding behind Rick. While some blankets were used for your comfort, others were fashioned into a tent-like structure over the bare branches of a decently sized bush. You needed some sense of privacy.

Carol and Lori had dug through the maternity clothes that hadn’t been lost on the road and found a button up dress. It was comfortable and made things much easier than leggings.

After your immediate needs had been met, Daryl then perched himself just beside your shoulder and hadn’t moved since.

“S’the number we’re aimin’ for?” He asked with frustration lacing his tone, making sure the blankets were back over you and tucked tight to keep you warm. He had been muttering to himself how he wished he had made time to read the rest of the books. Daryl was not a man that liked being in the dark on anything. It made him feel helpless, as you had learned over the last several months.

“She needs to be at 10cm and the baby needs to be in the correct position before she can push.” The old man positioned the ear tubes of the stethoscope before pressing it against several spots on your belly. “Heart beat is strong. Everything is looking good.”

You had remained quiet until that moment. “Do I just—I don’t know—lay here?”

“Walking encourages the cervix to dilate and soften. Once you dilate a little further, the contractions will likely be stronger, whether painful or not.” The calmness that man practiced really made you want to strangle him with that stethoscope. “Make sure you don’t go alone, and—”

“She ain’t.” Daryl snapped.

Hershel shot him an admonishing look. “As I was saying, take breaks. Sleep when you can. I’ll check you periodically. You’ll need to keep timing the contractions, son.” Daryl nodded. “Sip small amounts of water, no food. Keep me informed of any changes. And as unpleasant as it may sound, if you feel the pressure and urge as if you may need to have a bowel movement, call for me immediately.”

You, as well as Daryl, reared back, lips curling.

“The fuck that gotta do with the price’a fish?” The archer queried, not so nicely.

“Settle down. The pressure from the baby’s head moving into the birth canal can feel similar to that.” Shaking his head, Hershel shuffled his way out of your tiny tent.

Finally alone, you turned onto your side and scooted your upper body toward Daryl. He stretched out his legs so you could rest on his thigh.

“Get some rest.” His hand wiggled beneath the blanket and rubbed up and down the length of your upper arm, but moved to your belly when another contraction took over. Without prompting, he slid his warm palm around to your lower back and applied the least bit of pressure, rubbing small circles. You buried your face into his thigh to ride it out, but you had to admit the light massaging helped, if only a little.

“You’re supposed to be—” You were panting when you rolled your head to remind him, but found the watch already lifted to eye level, his gaze shifting from it to your stomach.

“Sleep if ya can. I got this.” His brow was furrowed in concentration, your heart swelling and warm. Any worry you had entertained of him running when things got real, just gone in an instant. He was there. He was there.

“I’ll try.” You whispered, the pain finally an afterthought. You felt him slide his hand back to the side of your stomach before you let yourself succumb to exhaustion.

“Sorry, Sunshine. Doc says up, so up ya get.”

You let Daryl take your dead weight and pull you up by a grip beneath your arms, making it as difficult as possible so you might get to stay in your warm little nest. You were still at 4cm. Hershel had said you had to start walking to help labor progress.

“This isn’t fair.” You whined, rubbing your back once you were upright. The pain that accompanied each contraction had lessened but was still ever present. “Can’t you walk and I dilate?”

Daryl snorted. “Don’t think that’s how it works.” He placed a careful hand on the small of your back and kept your pace, slow as it was.

“Okay, then how about if it gets worse, I kick you in the balls and punch you in the kidneys so you can participate properly?” You were only half joking.

“If it gets ya through this, I guess.” The archer shrugged. You regarded him with a skeptical brow arched.

“You’d really let me do that?”

“Hell nah, but s’the thought that counts or some shit like that, right?” He didn’t even try to dodge the smack you aimed at his shoulder.

“You’re hilarious.” You deadpanned, even as you leaned into him while you strolled in circles around the perimeter. The moonlight caught the watch in his right hand, his finger tapping against the casing. Bless him, he was taking his role of supportive partner very seriously. You gasped when the next contraction came, stopping to bend slightly and breathe through it while Daryl secured an arm around you and flipped open the watch.

When it was clear you weren’t falling, he slid his hand to the middle of your back and massaged the length of your spine using gentle pressure from the heel of his palm. He never said much—if anything—during the episodes themselves, but kept you informed of the timing of each one.

“Oh, goddamnit, this one sucks.” You managed through clenched teeth. You swayed slightly when it was over, grasping blindly for the man next to you.

“Thirteen minutes since the last’un. A minute, twelve.” He was slow and careful when turning you back toward camp. “Let’s getcha back to Hershel.”

You shook your head. “One last loop, then we can go back.” Daryl didn’t say anything but you felt him tense. “I’m sure. They’re just getting a little more painful in the stomach, less in the back.”

He still hesitated. “Alright. One more.”

Hershel stepped into your path before you started the second loop, allowing Daryl to fill him in on the last contraction.

“Do one more. Rest. And then again.” The old man ordered curtly.

Once he had vanished back toward the small fire, you mocked his words. “Rest and then again.” Daryl shook his head beside you. “I mean seriously, how much help can walking actually be?”

“Fuuuuuck!” You were digging your fingers into the blankets below you, swatting away Carol’s hand when she tried to dab your face with a piece of cloth. Daryl was sitting beside you, wide-eyed and lost, the watch forgotten by his leg. Hershel was between your knees, sporting his medical gloves that had been brought back by Rick and T-Dog.

The archer cleared his throat. “She alright?”

“Do I look alright, Daryl?!” You hissed, making an admirable attempt at breathing the way Carol was instructing. The contraction finally ended and you fell back onto the folded blankets. “I’m sorry.” You found his worried blue eyes easily and fumbled for his hand.

“S’okay.” He whispered, rubbing your knuckles with his thumb.

“She’s at 6cm. We can still time the contractions but I think she may need your attention more than that watch does now.” Hershel reached for the item and placed it in his pocket once Daryl handed it over. “Keep moving but stay closer, no more perimeter walks.”

Daryl nodded, you whimpered.

“I’ll be back soon to check again. If we’re lucky, things will move a little faster now that you’re in active labor.” Hershel left the tent while Carol fixed your dress.

“I know it hurts, but you two will have little Thumper in your arms in just a matter of hours.” She smoothed your hair and tucked it behind your ears. “You’re doing great.”

“I don’t feel like I’m doing great.” You murmured, ducking your head almost bashfully. “I’m really sorry I snapped at you, Daryl. It just—well, it hurts and it’s hard to think.”

“Ain’t mad.” He tried for a half smile but it was weak. “Better than gettin’ kicked in the balls, I reckon.” You laughed and squeezed his hand. “Guess we oughtta getcha up again.”

“I’ll help.” Carol offered. You could see that a refusal was on the tip of Daryl’s tongue but he never voiced it. With Carol under one arm and Daryl under the other, you were pulled upright.

Your body already felt wrung out and sore, and the epic finale hadn’t even begun. Still, you allowed Carol to pass you off to Daryl.

“We movin’ on? Be better to find a house or somethin’.” He looped an arm around your back, following as you shuffled your way around.

Carol shrugged, not touching you but keeping up with your small strides. “Both vehicles have fuel but Hershel isn’t sure we should move her. He thinks the baby will come soon and she needs to be kept in one place.”

You groaned, letting your head fall back in frustration. “She is right here. And if my opinion matters, I’d rather not—” The contraction came on strong, halting you suddenly with your hand fisting into the lower part of Daryl’s vest. The archer stepped around in front of you, rough but gentle hands grasping your wrists to guide your arms to his shoulders.

“Try to breathe. Sometimes humming or even moaning helps, like an outlet.” Carol advised while rubbing your back.

Your head fell forward against Daryl’s chest, a deep but quiet moan muffled against the firm muscle beyond his shirt. His hands had fallen to your hips, his body followed you as you swayed back and forth. The episodes were growing more intense, coming closer together and lasting longer. It wasn’t difficult to surmise that things would be growing more difficult to handle.

“Ain’t nothin’ we can do for ‘er?” Daryl asked quietly above you, each word blowing his warm breath over the top of your head. Carol must have answered in the negative because his fingers flexed against your hips.

The skin of your belly was pulled so tightly that you swore it would tear open, the muscles feeling as if they would pulse right out of the gaping hole your torn flesh would leave.

“Shit.” You whimpered, your voice finding its way back during the last dregs of pain. You almost didn’t register warm hands gliding up and down your sides, a smaller hand on your back. “I don’t want to have the baby here.” You argued weakly. “It’s too open. Things will be too chaotic, too loud.”

“I know, Sunshine, but the doc says—”

“I don’t want to risk Thumper here in the open, Daryl. With—with walkers or people.” With enough strength having returned after the pain, you lifted your head, eyes pleading. “Please.”

The archer was visibly upset. He was just as vulnerable as you were at that moment, torn between what he felt was right and what Hershel said was for the best. His tongue wet his bottom lip before he pulled it in between his teeth, looking to Carol for guidance.

“Could lay down the seats in the van. Use the back.” He suggested. “Plenty’a room an’ if we need to move fast—”

“I don’t think that’s unreasonable.” Carol agreed, rubbing your back in a few soft strokes before beginning to move away. “I’ll go talk to Hershel. You two keep walking.”

You watched her go, turning your gaze up to Daryl when he shifted back to your side to urge you along. “Gotta keep movin’.” You groaned, dragging your feet with your head falling back in frustration.

You were in the middle of a contraction, when you heard it. A snarl, a raspy growl much too close. You were already clinging to Daryl and breathing through the pain that was readying your body for Thumper’s arrival, but you’d have to let him go. He had to protect the baby. And to do that, he had to protect you.

But he didn’t move. He was nearly vibrating, rigid beneath your hands on his shoulders. He was just as scared as you were, even more so. He knew he could take the walker but that would mean letting you go. He needed to protect you but he wanted to support you. He had told you he'd never let you fall and you knew he had meant it.

“Go.” Your hands slid from his shoulders, down his chest before they released him completely to clutch your belly.

His boots disappeared from your view of the ground but you couldn’t focus after that. The pain was growing in intensity, immobilizing you with your lips tightly pressed to withhold the cries that vibrated behind your teeth for release. You couldn’t, you just couldn’t make a sound. You’d attract more, endanger everyone. You’d endanger Thumper. Daryl.

There were scuffles. More snarls. Tears were threatening your waterline. Pain was coursing through you like a serpent, slithering around each muscle and tendon and pulling them tight. You felt disappointment and guilt over all the agony when your mouth fell open with a guttural moan, your will to cut off the scream that begged to follow barely holding true.

“D—Daryl.” You cried out. And he was there, hands on your face, your biceps, your belly.

“M’here. M’here. Gotta move, though.” He swept you up with the slightest strained noise. “Gonna getcha to the van. Gonna find somewhere safe for ya.” The pain was fading. You could focus on the dark blood on his face, the dirt and grime.

“Herd?” You whispered.

“Ain’t your fault.” His expression emanated fear and stress. “The hatch.” Someone was with him. The small hands that opened the back of the van and spread out the blankets, those were Carol’s. She sat a pile of smaller blankets and squares of fabric toward the indents on the floor where the seats had been stowed.

“Get as many in the truck as you can! In the cab and the bed!” Rick was calling out at the same time that Hershel climbed into the van. Daryl was careful when he placed you inside, climbing over you before pulling you further in to make room for Hershel and Carol.

Through your haze of exhaustion, you saw Rick climb in the driver's seat and Maggie beside him. That meant that five others had to somehow fit into the truck.

“Is everyone okay?” You asked, eyes pleading with Daryl for an honest answer.

“Yeah, they’re all good.” He nodded, smoothing a hand over your hair.

The van was moving, though you didn’t realize when it had started. Hershel was between your knees when another contraction came. It felt like only moments had passed since the last one. In the safety of the van, though you couldn’t be bothered to consider that, you bowed forward with a scream. Daryl gingerly worked your fingers loose from the blanket to take your hand.

“She’s at 9cm. This baby is coming soon.” Hershel didn’t move this time, he and Carol began sorting things that you couldn’t see. Panting, you leaned to the side, knowing Daryl would be there. His arm wrapped around your shoulders and squeezed.

“What—” He swallowed audibly. “Tell me what I need to do.”

“Just be with her.” Carol poured some water from a bottle onto a piece of fabric and passed it across you for Daryl to take. “Wipe her face, put it behind her neck.”

The archer’s hand was trembling fiercely when you felt the blessed cool cloth touch your forehead. The moan that left you was not one of pain but utter relief. “Oh, that’s nice.” You breathed. Your skin was on fire, every cell of your being felt twisted and wrong. But that trembling cloth wiping at your face grounded you, centered you around what your body was preparing to do.

You were so close to being a mother.

But that didn’t stop the scream that ripped from your throat when the next contraction tore through you. You sat up, propped on your elbows with your eyes screwed shut. Tears leaked from the corners, the wailing cutting off into wretched sobs when you felt Daryl’s forehead fall against the crown of your head, his mantra of m’sorry m’sorry m’sorry shattering you into a million shards.

You couldn’t tell him it was okay. You couldn’t remind him why you hurt. You couldn’t reassure him that he was the one you wanted and you were more than happy to do this with him. For him. You didn’t have the breath.

“Don’t push, Y/N. Not yet.” Hershel’s tone was even but not cruel, his gloved hands on your knees.

“It fucking burns!” You shrieked, squeezing Daryl’s hand until you were certain you felt the bones shift. The contraction let up, the fiery sensation dulling but ever present.

“What’s happenin’?” Daryl sounded breathless. Terrified. You were still catching your breath when you looked up at him. His tan skin was white as a sheet, no color in his lips. His blue eyes were brighter than you’d ever seen them. From tears or fear, you couldn’t be sure.

“The baby’s in the right position. Y/N, it’ll be time to push soon. It’ll be very important for you to listen to everything I say. Can you do that?” Hershel wasn’t looking at you, between moving around things Carol was handing to him and keeping a constant eye on your progress. Distantly, you wondered why it was Carol at his side and not Maggie. Maybe because you were close with Carol? For your comfort?

“Yeah. Yeah, I can.” You turned your attention back to Daryl when his grip on your hand loosened slightly. He swayed, the pallor of his skin growing more concerning. “Daryl?”

The archer shook his head almost violently. “M’good.”

“Okay, I just—oh, fuck, already!?” You grit your teeth as your stomach tightened, a visible shift beneath the fabric of your dress.

“Maggie, can you climb back here?” Hershel requested calmly. His eldest said nothing but maneuvered her way into the back and on your opposite side. “I fear we may lose Daryl at any moment and Y/N will need support.”

“Ain’t goin’ nowhere.” Daryl snapped but it was a weak effort. He inhaled deeply and began squeezing your hand to keep you from dislocating his fingers.

“Here.” Carol passed him an opened bottle of water. “Drink a few sips. You’re white as a ghost.”

You were barely aware of everything happening around you, shaking almost violently to refrain from bearing down until Hershel told you to do so. It was bordering on excruciating.

“Jesus Christ, it feels like you’re holding a flamethrower to my fucking pussy!”

Hershel sighed while Maggie and Carol chuckled and Daryl snorted out a quiet nice, Y/N.

“It’s just the birth canal stretching to make room for the baby.” The veterinarian explained coolly.

“Just?” You mocked. “Just, he says while it’s my—oh Jesus fuck!” With all the presence of mind you could summon, you managed not to start screaming at Daryl for putting you in that position. You knew that beyond the pain and fear, you wanted Thumper in your arms more than anything in that fucked up world.

“Okay, Y/N,” Hershel patted your bare knees just at the tail end of the contraction to ensure he had your attention. You had fallen back against Maggie while Daryl held the cool cloth against the back of your neck. His hand was vibrating your skull to the point that you nearly asked him to move away. “You’re ready. On the next contraction, you need to push.”

“God, your calm voice makes me want to kick you in the teeth.” You didn’t mean it—mostly. Hershel must have known that because he chuckled. You could feel the next contraction already building when the van lurched to a stop, throwing everyone in it.

“We got a herd in front of us!” Rick called from the front.

“Go ‘round it! Turn ‘round! Just keep ‘em off us!” Daryl yelled as the pain peaked. “Fuck!” He bellowed when your hand began to shake with how hard you squeezed his own.

“Push!” Hershel shouted over the bumps and jerks of the van doing whatever Rick had deemed best. “Good, good!” He began to countdown from ten while you screamed.

You were being torn open. Thumper was going to rip you in half on their way out. Your throat was raw, surely bleeding from your wails. When the old man reached one, you fell back against Maggie but Daryl’s hand was there too.

“Maggie, Daryl, hold behind her knees. Help support her legs. It’ll keep her hips open.” Both moved forward, taking you with them to sit you up a little straighter. Daryl had to release your hand to hold you and your leg. The archer hissed with the pressure against his abused palm. “Perfect. Alright, Y/N. A nice, strong push this time.”

You almost snarled. “Last one wasn’t good enough?”

“Easy, Sunshine.” You felt Daryl's lips against your temple and yearned to keep them there.

“I’m sorry, Hershel.” Once again, the man simply smiled. Lori had told you that childbirth in the movies was often dramatized but so far, you weren’t seeing the truth in that statement. When the contraction reached a crescendo, you leaned forward while Maggie and Daryl held your legs steady. The pain was extraordinary. You almost wished you could see what was happening, but any train of thought was derailed with Hershel’s next words.

“The baby is crowning!”

Gasping, you swallowed hard, glancing at Daryl—who had a front row seat to what was happening—and then back to Hershel. “Crowning?”

“The head will be out soon.”

“All this and we don’t even have the head out?!” You screeched, just as your stomach rippled into a rigid mound and you were pushing again. This pain was different. Thumper was definitely ripping you apart. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! It burns!”

“S’that—” Daryl cleared his throat and swallowed, swaying on the spot. “S’that normal?”

“Perfectly normal.” Hershel glanced up at the archer, back down, and then up again. “Carol.” He needn’t say anything else. The other woman was moving to grab the back of your leg and let Daryl fall against her so he didn’t smack his head on the side of the van.

You were completely unaware, your entire focus centered on the inferno between your legs. There was no way any woman would willingly do this unmedicated. Never in your life had you wanted drugs more than you did in that moment. Thumper. Thumper, Thumper. You chanted internally, even as your vocal chords vibrated harshly with your screams. And just as you thought you would lose consciousness from the pain, it lessened. It hadn’t disappeared but comparatively, you would take that over the prior.

“The head is out!”

Panting, you smiled but then fell into confusion when you saw Carol beside your leg and Daryl slumped against her. “Daryl? Daryl?!” You shifted but Maggie held you still. “Is he okay?”

“He’s fine.” Hershel chuckled.

“Who knew a man that could gut a walker without batting an eye couldn’t watch his baby’s head come out?” Carol smiled but began to act, jerking her shoulder to jar the archer. “Daryl. Daryl, wake up. You don’t want to miss this.” He stirred and started to lean back. “Think you can take a look without losing it again?”

“Shuddup.” He shook his head hard, grunting. His hand was the first thing to move, sliding beneath Carol’s to take hold of your leg. Then he was looking at you. “M’sorry. That was—fuck, m’a pussy.” Maggie was moving your hand and pulling you forward as you watched your partner.

Then your fingers were touching a soft, albeit slimy, head.

You gasped. “Daryl.”

The man gulped, but then sat up on his knees a little. You watched the fear and apprehension melt away into awe, his jaw loosening, eyebrows rising, and eyes beginning to shine. “S’that—”

“That’s Thumper.” You were able to say before Hershel announced your miniscule break was over. He didn’t need to say a word, your body was already letting you know. Daryl’s hold felt stronger now and he was watching with an awestruck intensity that just made your heart want to explode even as you rode out the waves of agony. You were going to be a little family.

Then, out of the blue, you could feel something was different, wrong.

“Her—Hershel—Ow, fuck—” You fingers clawed at Daryl’s chest, his wet eyes going wide with concern. The contraction ended and you were gasping and swallowing convulsively, feeling nauseous regardless of your lack of food. Daryl’s eyes were darting back and forth between you and the old man. “Daryl, something—something’s wrong.” You could tell the baby had not moved an inch during the pushing, but not only that, it felt like they had actually pulled back toward your opening.

“I know.” Hershel’s voice had lost the calm and was taking on an emergent edge. “The baby is stuck.”

Panic flashed over Daryl’s face in the form of anger. “The fuck ya mean stuck?!”

Still trying to catch your breath, sweat dripping into your eyes, you thought for certain Daryl was going to jump across your leg and attack the old man. Thankfully, he remained at your side. Trembling and breath stuttering, but he wasn’t moving.

“Shoulder dystocia. The baby is turned in such a way that the shoulders can’t fit through the pelvis. Carol, I will need your help, please.” You were already on the edge of the next contraction when Hershel nearly barked “Y/N, don’t push.”

“What the fuck’re ya doin’?” Daryl snapped, leaning over your leg to investigate. So many emotions were battling for dominance in his expression that you couldn’t even begin to imagine how he was feeling.

“Daryl, please.” You pleaded, trying your hardest not to sob. For once, you cared nothing about being self-reliant or what the group thought of you and how much you needed Daryl. As you fought through the pain and against your body’s natural insistence to push, you just cried. Daryl kept a hand below your knee, too afraid to move unless Hershel gave the okay, but he leaned as far as he could to hold you without influencing your position.

“S’okay, Sunshine. S’gonna be okay.”

“Y/N, listen to me. I can feel the shoulder.” Now, the veterinarian’s tone was just downright frightening. “Maggie and Daryl are going to pull your legs back on the next contraction. I’m going to apply some pressure above your pubic bone. It’s not going to be pleasant, but if I’m correct, the head should come and then the baby. I need you to push with all you have, do you understand?”

You pressed your cheek further into Daryl’s chest and nodded, hiccuping through ragged, exhausted breaths. When the contraction began to tear through you, Maggie and Daryl reacted immediately, pulling your legs toward your belly while you curled inward with a guttural scream. Hershel pressed into the area just above your pubic bone, the pressure only compounding the whirlwind of pain you were already caught in. And then it was over and you let the two supporters take your weight.

The van rocked again, but was ignored. Hershel looked at Carol gravely and shook his head.

“S’that ‘bout?” Daryl hissed, trying hard for your sake not to lose his cool.

“It didn’t work.” Before Daryl could speak, the old man continued. “We’re going to try one more time. If it doesn’t work, there are a couple of other things we can try but time is of the essence. The baby isn’t getting the oxygen they need like this.”

“Whatever ya gotta do. Just take care’a both’a ‘em.”

Hershel nodded. “Alright, same thing, Y/N. A big, big push for me.”

You shook your head, exhausted. “I can’t.” You whispered, your eyelids heavy as hope attempted to flee and you accepted that once again, the world would take from you. It would take from Daryl. “I’m so tired.” You felt movement beneath your left leg and then Daryl’s hand was grasping your chin, firm but gentle.

“Hey. Cut that shit out.” He wasn’t angry. He was using the same tone you’d heard him use when he had told Thumper to cut you some slack. When he had started communicating with the baby. “Ya’ve gone through hell an’ back for this an’ I ain’t lettin’ ya quit at the goddamn finish line, ya hear me?”

“I’m tired, Daryl.” Your face screwed up in pain as the next contraction began to build.

“Nu uh. Ya ain’t gonna bust into my life an’ fuck up my world six ways from Sunday, make me love ya an’ this kid, an’ then just give up. S’you an’ me an’ Thumper. S’what ya said!”

You blinked at him, slowly starting to sit up.

“I’ve seen ya be a badass before, Sunshine.” Your breaths were coming faster, the contraction nearly on top of you, but you only had eyes for Daryl. “Be a fuckin’ badass now.” His hand left your face and went back to your leg, pulling it toward you at the same time Maggie moved the right one.

You screamed so loud that you were certain the rocks and bumps of the van were due to your wails alone. Something shifted, you felt it and it hurt. You were on fire and aching at the same time. When the contraction ended, you still felt painfully stretched and bruised and uncomfortable. “Did—did it work?” You panted, grasping desperately for Daryl’s shirt.

“The head is out, the shoulders are turned. One more big push, Y/N. Just one more.”

You breathed harshly through your nose, trying to amp yourself up. Maggie and Carol were throwing encouragement your way, but you didn’t hear them. You only felt Dary’s breath against your ear, his stubbled cheek rubbing against your skin.

He whispered, only for you to hear. “I love ya.” Kissing your temple, he moved back to his spot and when you looked at him, exhausted and crying, the corner of his mouth twitched and he nodded.

You could do this.

When the next contraction ripped through you, the world went silent. It was only you and the pain, white hot and all consuming. You were indeed being torn in half but if it meant Thumper would take that first breath, would open those little eyes to see the world—fucked up or not—then you would gladly be wrenched into pieces.

The moment the baby slipped free of you, you felt the emptiness. You still hurt, but the worst of the pain was suddenly absent. Sound and sight came back to you in an onslaught that had you sucking in a breath like your lungs had been starved.

“Is—Hershel, the baby?” You asked, trying to move as Daryl and Maggie lowered your legs. The archer was leaning across your knee. You couldn’t even tell if he was breathing, but his eyes were wide and darting.

“Doc—”

The ferocious first cries of the distraught newborn echoed throughout the van. Maggie had moved behind you to keep you sitting up while Daryl had staggered backward and fallen on his ass against the interior wall, eyes on the little thing that Hershel was looking over intently. Maggie reached over your shoulder and began unbuttoning your dress, whispering in your ear as she moved.

“The baby needs to nurse, bond with you on your skin and it’ll help when you have to push out the placenta, okay?” You blinked at her, concerned. “It’s okay. It’s nothing like what you just went through. One or two small pushes and it’s out.”’ You nodded robotically, watching Hershel maneuver some sort of tape around a slimy cord.

Thumper was not happy. They were probably cold and that thought made your heart ache. Your baby should never be uncomfortable. Daryl was slowly, clumsily making his way toward you, but wasn’t taking his eyes off the baby. When he was sitting beside you, Hershel finally leaned over you and placed the squirming, slippery baby on your chest.

“Congratulations. You have a daughter.”

#murda writes #blood ties #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #pregnant!reader #daryl x female reader #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl angst #daryl dixon angst #daryl dixon the walking dead #daryl dixon twd

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midnight-mourning · 1 month ago

Text

Tear in My Heart

🐟🐟Midnight's DCA MerMay Day 7🐟🐟

another fun little request for y'alls enjoyment, hoping to keep up the momentum as the days go on!

Prompt: FNAF security breach ruin eclipse as a leviathan(gentle giant) courting a spearfisher y/n

DCFPU prompt used: Colossal

Word Count: 2009

Story will be posted to ao3 soon!

🌊🎣🌊🎣🌊🎣🌊🎣🌊🎣🌊🎣🌊🎣🌊🎣🌊

You double check your equipment. Goggles, snorkel, spear, spear gun. Simple enough, really. You're wearing your wetsuit, weight belt, and fins, so you're good to go. You never needed much for your dives, which is part of why you preferred spearfishing, really.

Granted, you had plenty for afterwards—cleaning supplies, stringers, coolers, and so on—but that was common equipment regardless of what kind of fishing someone did. What additionally added to your enjoyment was getting to be in the water, up close. Or at least, as close as one can be.

The pain of having to sit on a boat, in hot weather, little to no breeze, that sounded torturous to you personally. You'd much rather be down below, simming through the cool waters, getting to see all sorts of sea life. Some of it might end up being yours or someone else's dinner, yes, but still.

You slip your goggles over your eyes, and swing your legs over the railing of your boat. You double check one final time the anchor is in place, then hop into the water below. It's refreshing chill greets you immediately, and with just the brief glance you got before resurfacing you can tell this spot will have a plentiful number of fish to choose from.

You take a breath, then dive back down to get a good look, probably circle around to see what's there before trying for any prey. In this area you know there's several kinds of fish to choose from, though you also know there's a couple not in season.

You really would prefer to not catch just lionfish—again—this time, but maybe that's being a bit too hopeful. Oh well, they were invasive so you guess you're doing your part or whatever. The dock restaurants will go crazy for it, but money doesn't fill your stomach with fresh fish you caught yourself.

Your scanning gives you a bird's eye view of the reef and the area surrounding it. There's a decent amount of fish swimming about, and numerous species at that, which doesn't surprise you. What surprises you is the complete and utter lack of predators out and about.

Usually when you dive there'd maybe be a shark or two flitting about, which was typical of these waters. But not only are there no sharks, there's not a single predator fish around. It's... strange. You're not going to look a gift fish in the mouth though, and see it as an opportunity instead.

You surface again to collect your bearings. You've probably got about thirty minutes of intense swimming in you before you'll need to take a break for lunch. So you make the most of it.

Another surprising thing about this reef area is how it's shaped. It all seems to wrap around a rather large sunken-in area in the middle, filled with nothing but sand and seagrass. When you surface for the third time—a lionfish in tow— you're able to get a better look at it by just dipping your head under the water. It's... nearly a perfect circle. Huh.

You chalk it down to just an interesting natural phenomenon and get back to it. By the time you've caught your tenth fish you begin to feel a bit tired. Climbing out of the water, you sit on the edge of your boat and eat the sandwich you'd packed for lunch.

As you're chowing down, you feel a large, yet subtle, wave rock your boat. You pause at this, but then when nothing else happens you simply shrug and go back to eating. Then, you feel it, the presence of something much larger than you, passing directly beneath you.

You fear slink up your spine, but shake your head, if it's a whale or something it'll continue on its way. Same with a shark. Most things out here don't directly interact with fishing vessels. You'll just, wait a little bit before diving back in.

So, you give it about twenty minutes, more than enough for whatever it is to leave the area. You ignore the feeling that something is still off, deciding it's just nerves. You replace your gear, and with a deep breath, dive back below.

You initially think you must be seeing things. Light catching your googles wrong or something like that. Maybe the cheese was bad on your sandwich, something like that. Something that could explain what it was you were seeing.

There, curled up in the middle of the circular reef, is a fish. A very, very big one. Larger than any whale, shark, or otherwise. It was just... colossal.

It didn't quite look like any fish you've ever seen before. Its lower half is the most fish-like part about it, with massive shimmering scales and a tail with transparent fins. The upper half however, was best describable as a mix of human and sea creature.

Spines along limbs that had hands and webbed fingers, a torso and chest, but most importantly a face. A face surrounded by fins, but a human-ish face all the same. The coloring was also otherworldly to you.

Patches of blue, yellow, red, and white scales—and skin?—cover the fish. And along with said scales are several deep scars, marring its otherwise perfect features. The face is split into two colors, yellow and midnight blue. And its eyes, one red, one white, are staring directly up at you.

You freeze, but spring into action when its large mouth opens, and you're met with a sharp grin. You scream, and have to resurface. Which is fine, because you were not going to stay around and find out what this guy's deal is.

Sputtering and coughing you hurry to climb back onto your boat. You hurriedly throw off your fins and rush over to the controls to start the engine. It's as you're fumbling for the keys you hear a booming voice call out to you.

"Wait! Don't go just yet!"

Paralyzed once more, you can only turn around in horror to find the giant creature, the leviathan, is now at the water level, eyes peeking over the edge of your boat. You don't know what to do. Is there anything you can do? You were afraid of it just because of its size but now you're petrified that it's able to speak.

When you don't say anything, the creature rises a little further out of the water, slowly, cautious. Your heart pounds in your chest. It raises its hands as it speaks again. "I-I won't hurt you."

You flinch as its hands move and it notices, pausing and tucking them behind its back. "I mean it. Promise."

You realize it's waiting on you now. You struggle to muster up the courage to respond.

"What, what do you w-want?" You stutter out. "What even are you?"

Despite your tone, the giant smiles at you, chuckling lightly. "I'm Eclipse. And what I want," He bends down, just a little closer. "Is to talk to you."

"Me?" You squeak.

He nods.

"Why would you want to do that?"

Another light answer. You realize that the loud quality of his voice is just because of how big he is, he otherwise has a gentleness to his tone you'd never expect. "Because you're the first interesting thing to show up here in a very long time."

You're suspicious. Though to your credit, who wouldn't be? Giant fish calling itself 'Eclipse' is talking to you because he thinks you're 'interesting'? Yeah, that's plausible. When you wake up from this dream you're throwing out every bit of your cheese.

You keep your hand on the key to your boat. "Why should I believe you?"

A shrug. "Well you certainly don't have to, but I'd like for you to. Please." There's a hint of something in the end of his sentence you can't place, but it calls out to something in you.

"And, and you won't try to eat me?"

"Eat you?" He questions, then starts to laugh, hard. "There are far better meals I could make out of fish much larger than you."

Your cheeks burn at this. "It's a fair question!"

"I never implied it wasn't. Tell you what, the first sign you think I'm lying, you can leave immediately. I won't try and follow you or anything." He offers you his hand, then realizes himself and offers just his pointer finger.

You think on it. Then sigh. Not every day you get to meet a bonafide mermaid. "I guess I just have to take your word for it." You reach your hand out and grasp his pointer in an attempt at a handshake.

Eclipse beams at you. "Oh, you won't regret it, friend. I promise!"

As you would come to find out, he was a fish of his word, in more ways than one.

While terrified throughout most of the conversation, that didn't seem to deter him in the slightest. You left safe and sound and you also returned safe and sound—much to his delighted surprise. This happened once, twice, thrice, until you began to lose track of the days and months.

You found that the colossal mer was fascinated by you and where you came from. Not just on the surface level, either. He hung on to your every word, taking it all in with great interest. In turn, he had much to share with you as well. Offering anything you wanted about his species, his life, and just him as a whole.

Beyond that however, you found talking to him was easy compared to previous relationships. You could laugh and joke together, and somehow the leviathan became a sort of shoulder to lean on.

And after becoming fast friends, lovers followed soon thereafter.

It took you some time to catch on, you won't deny it. Either oblivious or in denial or more likely a mix of both. To be fair, the idea of a massive fish finding a small human with a spear like you attractive just seemed... impossible.

Nevertheless, he certainly tried to get your attention far before you noticed. Assisting you with your fishing, offering to simply catch things for you if you wanted. Giving you trinkets that he'd found, sharing that they'd 'reminded me of you'.

It was also in the way he looked at you, spoke to you. Always soft and kind but something else was there to it. Something that looking back made your heart flutter in realization.

It's only one day, while you're mid-cleaning a fish, when he flat out asks you that it clicks.

"I'd like to be yours, Sweetfin. And for you to be mine."

You pause, hand quite literally in fish guts, to whip to look at him. "What? I, you mean, really?"

"Yes really." Eclipse chuckles, coming fully down to your level so you're eye to eye. "If you'll have me."

You stammar out your answer. "I, yes, of course. I can't, I don't believe, I really wish you didn't ask me that while my hands are covered in guts because I'd like to take hold of your face and kiss you."

Eclipse freezes then. But with how his rays flutter and he suddenly ducks down into the water you'd take that as a good sign. Even if he did almost capsize your boat.

Now, months later, as you're lying stretched out across his chest while he floats lazily in the water, do you realize how silly it all is. Though, it's ridiculous in the best way, you'd argue.

You giggle to yourself, and this seems to rouse him.

"Something funny?" He mumbles, half-asleep.

You sigh, shifting position a bit. "Yes and no. I'm just... reminiscing is all."

"You should be resting." He reaches a hand up to softly poke your side.

You swat him away, laughing. "I'll spend my afternoon how I please, thank you very much."

"As long as I get to spend mine with you, that's what matters to me." The mer sighs.

You close your eyes, laying back against him. "I think that's what matters most to me too."

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Thank you @sun-and-moon-fun for the request! I thought it was very cute and had much fun writing ruin eclipse ^^

Masterlist post is here

Tag list (if you would like added, simply say so!):

@scarletcowboy @beemyhuneybee @fishm0ther @deviouscrackers @elsajoyagent8 @luckyyyduckyyy @zenkaiankoku @jogimote @local-shrub @milosmantis @robinette-green @everlightreader @sinister-sincerely @starredeclipse @dangerva @juukai @crystalmagpie447 @mothgutz236 @lizyxml @divinit3a @amarynthian-chronicles @crystalfay @that-one-unknown-artist @rosescarletful @buzzy-bee @hazelthebat @nightriverart @mr-munchies @sun-and-moon-fun

#fnaf dca #dca fandom #fnaf sun #fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf moon #sundrop #moondrop #dca fic #x reader #dcfpumermay25 #mermay 2025 #mm dca mermay #midnight mutterings #writing requests #mer eclipse is fun to write for #especially ruin mer eclipse hehe

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whokilledsamara · 8 months ago

Note

well, since i asked for a dogday nsfw alphabet might as well ask for catnap as well lol

if that’s okay, ofc. i don’t want to be a bother 🥹

(love reading your writings btw !!)

CATNAP NSFW ALPHABET

a catnap x reader list. {an: heheh... why ofc.. hes got to be the sexiest one of all in my opinion ;3 also thank you for enjoying my fics, i try my best <3}

warnings! : oh boy.... hes quite the aggressive type. nsfw, obviously, HARDCORE sex. unlike dogday, catnap doesnt hold back. blood play, abuse kink, dubcon if you squint/somno, aggressive sex, MASSIVE dick. yes, you are still in the factory. this is pre-escaping. {for this one, catnap is bbi but built like dogday. not his "monster" form like in the game.} afab and amab. period sex mentioned. asphyxiation... augh.. hes sadistic..

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

unfortunately, little to no aftercare. catnap isnt one to care much. yes he loves you, but he doesnt find aftercare appealing. probably most he will do is clean you up and let you sleep on him.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

he likes your ass. and thighs. likes sleeping on them. also if you're afab hes a big fan of your tits. likes kneeding them {hehehe cat biscuits}

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

much like dogday, he cums a lot. also due to his sheer size. not like he can get you pregnant anyways so almost always its a creampie. or your face if hes facefucking you.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

he wants to fuck you on your period

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

hasnt done it too much, but hes a quick learner. good at noticing body language so he knows what you like.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

any position where he can choke you. he likes to brink you on the edge of passing out but not quite enough to actually do it.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

very serious. not awkward at all. wants to hurt you and finds nothing funny in that {maybe a little bit due to his sadism}

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

he doesnt care enough to keep up. obviously hes covered in fur, but theres a decent amount of fluff down there.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

he doesnt give a single fuck about romance. {VERY rarely and i mean that heavily, will he ever show even a hint of softness, but its there.}

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

when you arent there he does. hes a horny guy.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

blood play, knife play {claws}, abuse kink, impact play, petplay, etc

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

his "room" as he calls it. but he also doesnt care where he does it. he will do it in the middle of the playcare if he wants to.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

hes a pervert, so basically anything that looks even slightly suggestive even if it isnt. or seeing you hurt yourself. {not sh, but like in general}

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

scat/vomit play. ew.. not much else he wont do.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

hes kinda selfish. he prefers receiving. nothing gets him off more than seeing you in pain trying to take him all in your mouth. he doesnt mind giving though, he has a rough, cat-like tongue, so its heavenly whether afab or amab.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

fast and rough. as expected.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

hell yea. he will do anything as long as he gets to nut.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

any risk, hes willing to take. doesnt care if it hurts you {okay maybe ha cares a little bit}. sadism....

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

stamina? never wears down. even though hes a generally sleepy guy, that doesnt mean he doesnt have a lot of stamina.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

nah, he IS the toy. doesnt need anything else. hes easily able to get you off.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

constantly teasing and edging you. if you try to tease him it will just piss him off. goodluck walking.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

not loud, does grunt and growl a lot. he wants you to be loud tho..

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

loves digging his claws in you, finds it so hot to mark you. also heavily into somno. i mean.. his whole motto is sleeping. {hes such an asshole i love him sm}

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

biiiggg boy.. kinda a given though. bigger than dogday, at 16 inches.. ouchie.. >.< {luckily hes nice enough not to force all of it in!!}

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

high, very high. tries to fuck you as often as he can, even when you are asleep, he doesnt care.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

if hes able to he does. but he doesnt necessarily NEED to, he just likes sleeping.

{sorry if this was too much or too graphic, just my personal headcannons. if you arent a fan of this lmk!!! i can easily make another one more mundane.}

{ made by @whokilledsamara }

#smiling critters #catnap #catnap x reader #catnap x player #smut #catnap x y/n #cnc somno #dubc0n #abuse k1nk #afab reader #amab reader

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liliannadelaphinehartifelt · 1 year ago

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Hi there,

Saw your post about Cajun/cowboy Alastor and OMG! I don’t have many ideas other then maybe he plays poker for souls or something like that and maybe a reader comes into town and is just as good at poker as he is. And he cannot seem to win, leading him to become mildly obsessed over winning their soul.

Thats all I have as I don’t know much about cajun/cowboy stuff.

I’ll let you know if I have any other ideas!

Thank you!

Alastor - [ ACE OF HEARTS ]

xxxxx xxxxx xxxxx xxxxx xxxxxx xxxxx xxx

A/N: Omg, I love your take on cowboy Al! It got me thinking about it for days. I have never played poker, so I had to watch multiple YouTube videos to understand the game while writing this. Hopefully, it came out accurate enough! Also, this is a very, VERY traumatic/smut-heavy fic I'm working on, so please be aware and know I don't endorse anything I write.

WARNINGS: [ NSFW ] + [ MDNI ] + [ MATURE THEMES ] + [ FEM READER ] + [ GUN PLAY… ] + [ SLIGHT DUB CON….eventually.] + [ SLIGHT/IMPLIED AGE GAP ] + [ MENTIONS OF GORE/BLOOD/CANNABILISM ] + [ KIDNAPPING…sort of?.. ] + [ PARENTAL PHYSICAL AB*SE…eventually..] + [ ANGST/TRUAMA…]

xxxxx xxxxx xxxxx xxxxx xxxxxx xxxxx xxx

**Cowboy Alastor** is known for his record of killing, is a skilled bounty hunter, and is far from a decently moral one. Everyone assumes his motives, guessing who his next target is and if he’ll ever feel guilt for what he does to them.

He doesn't.

What kind of demon would he be if he did…

Besides, the people he kills owe him in one way or another, all in debt to the red demon by their stupidity and lust for life, so he feels nothing for them when the time comes for the price of their deals to be paid.

Alastor arrives for them in the dead of dry nights, taking their last breath with a single bullet to the head or a clean cut across the throat. Their pleas do little to affect his decision.

“A deal is a deal…”

He reminds them that escaping a bloody end is impossible, already solidified by their selfish desires, and no amount of begging will change his mind. They curse his name, glaring at the grin on his face as he draws nearer with deathly intent in his eyes, and it only grows as he derives pleasure from their refusal to cooperate.

The riches, the riding, and the roughness he endures daily are nothing compared to the satisfaction he gets from killing. Others may deal in chasing oil, farming land, and cattle, but he stakes his fulfillment in the business of blood.

**Cowboy Alastor** dabbles in gambling when he's not off-striking deals with lowly souls or wreaking havoc on those he deems deserving.

Every city south of New Orleans with a bar or saloon welcomes his visits and not by choice.

Those who don't meet his standards or demands of hospitality drop from the face of the earth at his will, burning to a crisp full of the dead occupants who so lightly offended him, and never to be rebuilt out of fear he'd return to demolish it again.

He surely would, but no one has yet to test the theory in fear of a painful death by his hands.

Alastor leisurely travels the expanse of Louisiana's countryside, partial to riding wherever the wind blows, but he’ll always return to the rumbling city of New Orleans.

Whether for personal reasons or because his beloved mother wished to see him, it becomes second nature for the deer demon to reside there randomly. It was his hometown, after all, and he preferred the taste of whiskey from a familiar place over foreign alcohol in far-off dusty taverns he'd never visit again.

The saloon he fancies sits opposite the central townhouse, a tall building at the end of a main street that never seemed to rest.

Lafitte’s Blacksmith Bar

Summer nights brought out and drew in more people, filling the bar with patrons who knew of his deeds and those who’d only heard scarring stories about him through the ladder. The knowledge of a red reaper roaming the towns of Louisiana varied, but their fearful respect of him was abundant the moment Alastor stepped foot into the bustling bar.

He was there, in good spirits for the most part, but still an impossible threat they couldn't brush off.

**Cowboy Alastor** greets the silent patrons with a sly grin, tipping his hat to the fear-stricken owner who eyed him from behind the packed bar.

“Don't let me interrupt the fun, Cher. I'm not here to cause you trouble… that's if you're kind enough to indulge me.”Alastor chuckles, not waiting for a proper response from anyone as he stalks over to his usual spot in the smokey parlor.

A group of cattlemen stiffen in their seats as he walks by, all grabbing their drinks as swiftly as possible before leaping up from their table to avoid him, and their skittish actions cause Alastor to laugh as he settles into a particular backroom booth.

It was customary for people to keep their distance from him, some deterred by his striking appearance while others simply didn't want to risk involvement with a known killer. He saw nothing wrong with their aversion, glad that his reputation proceeded him, but there were those single few who saw him as a challenge rather than a threat.

Poor fools…

Mortal or not, he ran into them regularly, welcoming their duels like a bored child getting a new toy to destroy, and though he knew they'd fail to win against him, he'd never turn down a good game.

Ever…

**Cowboy Alastor** lets the saloon wind into chaos again, humming along to the melody of music and rowdy singing while getting comfortable in his secluded spot.

His hat rests low on his head, shielding most of his red gaze from those who look his way, only leaving the view of his Cheshire smile and effectively signaling his oddly calm demeanor. Alastor slipped his riding jacket off, tossing the tailored burgundy clothing across the back of the booth, his leather and suede black gloves following suit.

“What a day it's been…” he mumbled while flexing his long fingers, relaxing his posture while leaning back and rolling his neck until a soft ‘pop’ was heard.

Consequently, the tension tangled in his limber body from riding all day unraveled. Alastor sucked his teeth at the feeling, licking his lips as a satisfied groan left them, and just as he sat forward again, the owner hurried to his table with a bottle of alcohol and a tray of cigars.

“Your usual, Al,” he split out, setting the items in front of him with shakey hands, and Alastor clicks his tongue at the nervous tick. He'd come to this bar for years, and the old man still trembled in his boots around him. The poor fool wouldn't dare admit his fear either, rushing off as soon as he reached for the bottle, and though some might consider his retreat rude, Alastor found it amusing.

Flattering, even.

**Cowboy Alastor** drinks slowly, letting the whiskey burn his tongue and drowning the malt taste with languid drags from a cigar.

Eyes scan over him, women whisper about him lustfully under the rowdy music, and the men keep their senses about them with happy trigger fingers.

Because as they say: “Red Reaper, Red Reaper. The devil's solemn deal keeper. Beware him & the hell he seeks…”

Alastor imposes his intensity, grinning at those who stare too long, watching the women who drink him in with an equally sultry stare, and daring the men to throw a bullet his way with a knowing smirk. He invites trouble, waiting for it like a preying snake in tall, dry grass, but after some time, he assumes no one in the saloon will accept his invitation.

That is until you step in, looking lost among the worldly thrills of a bar but unafraid to venture further into it with an air of certainty surrounding you.

**Cowboy Alastor** makes no move to approach you, laid back as ever, as he observes the gentle way you speak to men who drunkenly approach you. They make offers to dance, almost crowding your more diminutive form as you trail to the bar.

“Sorry, boys, but I'm here on business, not pleasure. Now, run along..” you wave them away playfully, purposely flirtatious but avidly stern.

He expects them to continue bugging you; you're a doll, after all, prettier than most women he's seen. However, the men retreat politely, leaving you be as the owner approaches your side, and you immediately turn to hug him despite his apparent concerned expression.

Alastor observes the exchange closely, reading your lips perfectly while sipping at his drink, and it's all too easy for him to assess the situation.

The daughter of a businessman returns home after finishing school in the north, wanting to visit him at work as a pleasant surprise, but he's far from happy about a young lady like yourself being out late at night in a place like this.

You're too mannered to be seen around the patrons, it's dangerous for you to ride alone in the evening, and your father isn't pleased you intend to stay out to celebrate your school completion.

He tells you it's best to go home, that he'll come with you, but you insist on staying and remind him, “I'm not your little girl anymore, Daddy!..” The older man can't seem to rein you in, having to drop the lecture as a small brawl breaks out in the corner of the saloon, which draws his attention immediately, and this leaves you to wander the scene freely.

A perfect time for Alastor to reel you in close and personal…

**Cowboy Alastor** whistles when you walk past his area, catching your attention with a short, soulful melody, and you quickly notice him in the dim back room.

“Hi there, lil’ lady. Searchin' for somethin'?” He inquires playfully, tone bordering sensual, and his grin slipping into a closed smile as your gaze settles on him.

You’re curious, not scared of him like most are, and the moment he speaks to you, questions race through your head.

Who is he?

How have you never seen him here before?

Why, in God's name, is he sitting away from the masses?

Is he a rider, a hunter, or maybe a convict?

It was hard to tell from a distance, so without a second thought, you flashed him a gentle smile, gradually approaching where he sat, “Hello, and who might you be, sir?” You chirp a greeting, resisting the urge to bite your lip as he stares into your wandering gaze.

Alastor assumed you’d been away from the South too long to realize who he was, that your father's earlier warning didn’t sprout from overprotectiveness but rather fear of his presence.

You didn’t see him as a threat, nor a danger, but a new face in an old town.

He chuckles, putting out his cigar after taking a particularly long drag from it, blowing smoke past his lips with a coy hum. You blink as the convoluted air fans your face, unbothered by it and itching for a taste of tobacco yourself. It’d been a few years since you’d let loose, not allowed to frequent bars or act unladylike in the limelight of northern modesty.

“A loyal patron, but it’s been some time since I’ve paid this place a visit.” He answers you politely, an odd trait that most men only reserved for themselves but refreshing to experience.

“Oh, well, that’s nice to hear, but your name is what I would like to know.”

A tender smirk stretches your lips, a red hue dusting your cheeks as he tips his hate apologetically before uttering a response, “Alastor Hartifelt. A pleasure to meet you, Miss…” he pauses, quirking a brow at you expectantly, and you take a moment to analyze him further.

You've heard your father utter his name many times before your departure to the north. He'd described him brutally, having less than pleasant things to say about bounty hunters in general but especially about the man in front of you now. You'd heard people talk of his deeds, deals, and evil.

He was dubbed the ‘Red Reaper’ for a good reason, lurking around in the bitter nights and drawing blood from one poor soul or another in his travels.

Supposedly, he was a terrifying monster, but you'd always found beauty in the demented. It was one of the reasons your father had sent you away, but fortunately, the influence of the posh upper class did nothing to change your consciousness.

Besides, the rumors had failed to mention how attractive the red reaper was, let alone dashing. He seemed nice enough hadn't flashed his weapon, threatened, or catcalled you disrespectfully.

So, you found no harm in telling him your name, “Y/n L/n. It's a pleasure to meet you as well, Mr. Hartifelt.” You blink slowly, drowning in his red eyes, unconsciously swaying where you stood, back to a wall that hid your presence near him from your father's eyes and the curious stares of others.

Alastor glanced at the space beside him, silently asking that you join him, but unlike most women, he rarely took an interest in, you didn't move until he asked you outright.

“Would you care to join me for a drink, Miss L/n? I'd like to have your company for a while..”

He doesn't speak any louder than needed, using every bit of charm he has to lure you in, and you let him believe he's succeeded with a sensual laugh and purring laugh.

“Why, I thought you'd never ask..”

**Cowboy Alastor** asks a lot of questions. Subtly gathering information about you that he has no use for.

You give him answers; some are lies, others are indiscriminate truths, but you can't bring yourself to be completely honest with a stranger known for his cunning. He keeps your glass full, pacing the liquor with you, reveling in your gentle laughter after every sip, and softening faster and faster the longer you conversed.

You kept your wits about you as best as possible, inviting his fleeting touches but never going further than whispering in his ear or tapping a finger under his sharp chin when he'd stare too long.

Alastor didn't mind your soft hands on him, nor your lingering gaze and confident provocations. He absentmindedly returned the gestures just as boldly.

Your fifth glass of whiskey was running low, and without a hint of hesitation, he refilled it alongside his own. You watched as the amber liquid filled each glass, utterly relaxed as he spoke to you tenderly, “You say your father sent you far up north. May I ask why?…”

He peers at you, sliding the transparent glass into your waiting hand, and you chuckle wryly while taking a sip. “Daddy says it was for my good. You see, my mother is a stickler about manners, and I didn't have much of any growing up. Ironic, seeing as I was raised well enough.” you paused, frowning at the memory of your strict but loving mother.

She was lovely to look at and kind most of the time, but her ambitions for you outweighed her patience. Alastor noted the haunting sadness in your eyes but said nothing as you continued, looking out into the crowd of patrons fussing about as you did.

“My mother died a few years back, leaving daddy to handle me, and when he realized he couldn't manage the business and a daughter, he sent me away. Couldn't blame him either; I was getting into trouble left and right and had some bad habits on the rise, too.”

His ears perked at the words ‘bad habits’ leaving your lips, naturally drawn to knowing a mortal's darkest secrets, so he pressed for clarification.

“Bad habits, you say? I couldn't imagine a sweet thing like you havin’ such things.”

You scoffed, glad your cheeks were flushed from the alcohol buzz to mask the blush his comment invoked, “Well…I did. Still do if I'm honest.” you admit in a hushed tone, knocking back the last of your drink before glancing his way.

“It's hard to resist doing things you're good at.”

Alastor leaned back into the seat, drink in one hand, the other fixing his hat so it sat back on his head. The adjustment gave you a peek at his fluffy red hair and the distinctive blood-marked x on his forehead. You thought to ask what the mark meant but saved the question for later, as he agreed with your statement.

“Very true, ma chere. Although I'm one for killin’, your passion may not be so grizzly and easier to alleviate.”

“My father thinks gambling is just as bad as killing. It doesn't matter if he's addicted to it himself or not. If I do it…I'm the devil's daughter in his eyes..” You roll your eyes, an action that jolts a nerve Alastor hasn't felt in years and subconsciously doesn't ignore.

“Gambling? That's your unproper poison?” he narrows his gaze as you nod lazily, a few ringlets of your hair falling from its pinned-up style as you do, resting on the skin of your shoulders and neck.

Soft.

Your locks look soft and silky to the touch, tempting him to run his fingers through it, across your skin, and, god forbid, under your dress.

A heavy breath settled in his chest at the possibility, a familiar rush coursing through him as you moved your lips to speak, “Yes. I see a stack of playin’ cards, and I just can't help myself. I got rather good at playing too but when you beat everyone in town at it people start to be less kind about your reputation.”

You laugh, attempting to make a light-hearted joke but ultimately grimacing at the mention of lousy sportsmanship from others. You couldn't help winning a challenge in poker, and many saw the talent as disgraceful, which prompted I'll rumor about you.

“That's a shame, sugar. Everyone deserves a chance to play a good game of their choosing.” he feigns concern, meeting your curious eyes as you shift to face him, “Everyone except me if my father has anything to say about it. Still, I suppose it's best I let it go…” you sigh, grabbing the bottle of whiskey to pour another shot.

Suddenly, you freeze, feeling his body heat invade your space. Alastor tilts his head down close to yours, breathing in your scent discretely before pressing his lips to the lobe of your ear as he mutters into it, “Why don't you play a game with me, chere? One lil’ round for fun… right under your daddy's nose, hm?”

The burn of excitement seizes your body, a shakey breath leaving your lips as his voice settles in your mind, inviting you to indulge his offer. That same heat pooled in your core with every second he spent in your space, inhaling the scent of bourbon and sweet sugar cane grass he rode through radiating off him, words just as inviting and addictive.

For a horrifying, well-feared killer, he sure did entice a woman like any natural-born gentleman…

It was a deathly combination you knew he often used, killing or not, and though it'd be wise to avoid his idea, you didn't want to risk missing an opportunity for the thrill.

It'd been so long, too long, and what's the worst that could happen?

Losing to him?

You'd never lost to anyone before, and you were confident that fact wouldn't change -even going up against the Red Reaper himself.

**Cowboy Alastor** relishes when you utter a ‘yes’ to his offer. His grin widens menacingly for a split second as he sets his glass down next to your empty one, conjuring up a meticulously detailed deck of playing cards and placing them on the table.

“You can choose which game we play, sugar…”

Alastor shifts away from you, letting you regain your composure and watching as your delicate fingers reach for the top card of the deck.

“Poker. A favorite of mine..” You didn't think twice before answering him, admiring the red and black ace in your hand, wondering where he acquired such personalized playing cards.

“Poker it is then, chere,” he smirks wickedly, removing his hat entirely to set it on the table before gingerly plucking the card from your hold and sliding to sit opposite you while dishing out equal amounts of cards between you.

Your eyes light up under the oil lamp's golden hue, studying the flick of his hands as he worked, trying hard not to wander up to his piercing gaze. Afraid he'd immediately see your attraction to his nimble hands, well to him in general, and use it against you somehow, so your focus remains on the hand dealt and not him.

As you both plucked your respective set from the table, studying the cards intently, you asked the singular most crucial question every poker match was built on.

“What will the bets be,” Your innocent inquiry earns sultry laughter from him, filling the air, raising feverish chills on your skin as he stares at you through half-lidded eyes.

“I prefer bargains of the soul, my dear. The use and price of one's existence is always more valuable than money, don't you agree?”

xxxxx xxxxx xxxxx xxxxx xxxxxx xxxxx xxx

A/N: Don't be mad AT ME, GUYS, PLEASE. I HAD EXAMS LAST WEEK. I'm SORRY FOR DROPPING OFF THE FACE OF THE EARTH… sort of, but I'm back now (please do hate me :((( ). Uh, so I might merge “Down in the Dust” with this because both stories kinda originated in my brain at the same time. However, since this is a request, I wrote a two-part tangent smut as a sort of prequel to the other fic! Also, the phrase “Save a horse. Ride a cowboy” will be unironically used…I'm sorry (I'm not lol) ❤️

[ BONUS CONTENT + ] VOLUME WARNING!!! 🗣️

Fun fact: In the South, we have a rule that if you take a cowboy hat and end up wearing it, they catch you with it (preferably in the mutual interest of getting to know each other). That cowboy gets to fuck you (hopefully, but technically you're initiating a flirting game wearing their hat, lol). It's a cute concept and one any Cowboy Alastor enthusiast should think about. ❤️ credits to the creator.

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noctiva · 1 month ago

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Hear me out babes… Creepy pasta proxies but with tats and piercings?

WOOF WOOF sorry BARK BARK GRRR sorry idk what’s come over me lmfao wow

you are speaking my LANGUAGE YOU DONT EVEN KNOWWWWWW ok I’m throwing canon material to the wind for this idc idc this is what I THINK they’d do if they were 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

Toby’s definitely the most tatted and pierced out of all of them, mostly because he does a lot of them himself when he’s bored just bc like… he can’t feel the pain so why not? stick n’ pokes galore, patchwork tats up his arms, jewelry stuck in wherever he can lmao

^^ this vibe plus lotsa metal in his face lol

Brian’s got a decent amount but not nearly as many as Toby lmao very dad vibe, probably got a back piece and a quarter sleeve. also definitely has a chest tat bc I said so and one of those blackout arm bands all the white boys were getting in the 2000s lmfao. For piercings he’s probably just got a plain ol’ hoop in his nose. MAYBE gets an eyebrow stud

^^ shit like this. he’s def more into american trad I just feel it in my bones idk idk

I really don’t think Tim would get that many tbh, not that he dislikes them or anything of the sort, I just think he’s the type to be like ‘I can’t decide on something that I like enough’ - whereas Toby just tats anything he likes even a little bit, Tim’s one of the ones that would want his tats to have meaning methinks

When it comes to piercings he’d probably just get his ears pierced. Maybe he’d stretch em a little if he’s feeling cheeky

^^ just like little shit like this

tumblr won’t let me add more than 9 photos so lemme reblog this then add Kate ok? ok 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

#WOOF WOOF WOOF BARK #GRRRRRR #sorry I pictured tatted up Brian with a nose ring and I came #LMFAO #TALK ABOUT YUM #needthat #noctiva yaps

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qwimblenorrisstan · 10 months ago

Text

Insufficient Pt. 3 | Azriel/Eris x Reader

Summary: Your journey to Autumn Court doesn’t go exactly as planned, but you do pick up some entertaining company along the way, who also happens to be useful in getting you where you need to go.

Word Count: ~ 3.5k

Warnings: horse getting a bit scratched up, big scary monsters, rock juggling, allusions to abuse, platonic!lucien & reader, sassy luci, knife, blood

A/N: y’all I’m so sorry this is so late…school just started and I’ve also just started writing for cod too since I’ve been obsessing over it, so here’s some food for you guys, eat up<3

Requests are open!

Previous | Masterlist | Next

As it turned out, traveling was a lot more difficult than you had originally thought.

It wasn’t just getting on a horse and riding until night, starting a fire, and all that. Sure, you’d been around for a decent amount of time for a Fae, nothing close to centuries, but you still didn’t have much knowledge on things like that.

Most of your life had simply been with your family in the family home, spent in a warm house with plenty of food and water to spare. Not many hardships, nothing.

The first night you’d gone out had been rough.

Riding a horse for nearly six hours straight had made your thighs ache more than ever before, feeling as if someone had just beaten them with a rolling pin. Not to mention the fact that you hadn’t been able to get a decent fire going, so you’d eaten some cold dried meat in your pack, and curled up in a small den that was deserted by whatever animal had made it.

You were only on your second night when things already began going wrong. The woods were thick from where you were skirting the borders, tangy magic thick in the air from the protections most High Lords kept over their courts after Amarantha’s reign of terror. Your horse was tiring, sweat coating her mane, and your beads of sweat gathered on your forehead despite the chill of the night.

You slowly pulled the reigns back, slowing her to a stop when you got to a small clearing, before throwing a leg over and slipping off. Your knees nearly buckled when your feet hit the ground, sparks of pain flitting through them before fading slowly. The horse huffed, following as you led her by the reigns over to a little wall of stone in a mountain, a little roof provided by an overlook above. It looked relatively untouched.

Unbuckling the clasps and setting the mare free, though she never wandered far, somehow knowing better, you put the bridle down close to you.

Too tired to eat, you scooted backward, sitting slowly down as you resisted a groan with how your legs ached. Your eyelids felt heavy, and your body and movements were sluggish. Before you could even get a single coherent thought through your brain, you slipped into a deep sleep.

What must’ve been hours later, or at least felt like it, you drowsily opened your eyes when you heard the nervous nicker of your horse. Dark, splotchy figures stood nearly twenty feet away, concealed barely by trees. Maybe three of them.

They whispered and muttered quietly amongst themselves, sometimes in a language you couldn’t understand, other little English words snagging your mind. Inhuman eyes, two of them each, shifted your direction, and your eyes shut immediately.

Playing dead.

They must’ve bought it since they went back to their hushed whispers. Your mind, now fully alert and panicking, tried making sense of it. Maybe they were other travelers, like you? But outside of any court? They had looked at least 8 feet tall, thin, and cloaked in black that only served to remind you of the very male you were running from.

You heard your mare nicker again before a hoarse cry came out of it, and a scuffling sound. Your eyes opened almost involuntarily, being given a front-row view of the creatures, whatever they were, and their bony hands as they reached towards the poor animal, trying to drag it towards them as their shadowy maws opened. Whispers turned more excited.

Your body was frozen between shock and terror as you watched one of them grab the horse’s front legs, then back legs, both in different hands and begin pulling.

The horse cried out.

The hands pulled.

A disgusting ripping sound, but not from the horse.

From your dagger, embedded in one of the thing’s shadowy hands that were somehow physical, ripping the skin and flesh.

It hissed, dropping the horse, but the wound you’d made on it closed immediately as it flicked your dagger away.

You were at the horse’s side in less than a second, for some reason in a defensive position, lip curling to bare canines at the things. As you looked at the largest one dead in its cold eyes, a realization dawned on you.

Skinwalkers.

These things were skinwalkers.

It should’ve been obvious to you from the start. The dark but physical body, the dead, shining eyes, the giant frame, and clawed hands. It was then that you had another realization.

Skinwalkers didn’t eat horses. In fact, according to an old mythology book your grandmother had owned, they only ate humans. Then why-?

“A fine catch we’ve gotten ourselves..”

It said, tone between a hiss and a purr at the same time, mingling in a sound that made every cell in your body want to run and never look back. If a direct stab hadn’t done anything to kill or even harm it, then what would it take to kill one, if not the three to four that were in the group?

“Not very clever,”

One hissed in a hushed tone, and another peered down at you, dead eyes hungry.

“I told you it would work. They’re always so attached to those little animals..”

Another whispered, poking the horse, now cowering against the stone, looking for an opening to run although there was none. It pawed at the ground, stomping and huffing as if it would help.

A trap. It had been a trap, and you’d been stupid enough to fall for it. Of course.

“Get on with it, I'm starving.”

The last of the group hissed, jabbing the largest one with a pointed finger. The largest one bared its perfectly midnight black teeth and stalked closer to you. Backing up, you spotted a flash of movement to the very left, behind the group of skinwalkers.

Too fast to be a human or animal. Too slow to be another skinwalker. Which meant either it was Fae, or another creature waiting its turn to eat you, and you were praying for the former.

Between a few trees, a small face came into view, along with golden orange hair, a scarred face, a mechanical eye, and dark clothing. You tried not to stare, so the creatures wouldn’t notice him.

“It’s been too long since I’ve gotten to smell their fear, let me have a moment-“

The biggest spat, and they then began bickering in their unearthly tones, creating a temporary way of distraction. The male in the trees jerked his head towards your right, and you gave a confused face, turning to your right. All it was was a pile of big rocks. He sighed silently, mouthing something to you.

You couldn’t lip-read for the life of you.

After asking “What?” silently three times in a row, you finally understood what he was saying.

“Distract them.” He mouthed, clearly agitated as he frowned, giving you a judgmental look. Sassy for a male, this one was.

The creatures seemed quite distracted amongst themselves at the moment, but you knew once that ended, everything would be over for you. You needed a distraction, and their hushed whispers were getting less frenzied, quieter, and slower. They agreed on something.

Your mind rushed to find something, anything and thought back to the pile of rocks the male had originally jerked his chin to.

You slowly moved towards it, eventually reaching it, before the creatures came to a final consensus.

“No, no, you don’t get to escape.” One hissed through its teeth as it grabbed the back of your shirt, dragging you back in front of the largest one, but instead of slaughtering you, they were left dumbfounded when you began throwing rocks up in the air, catching them, and throwing them again.

Juggling. You were juggling the rocks.

“What is it doing?”

The smallest asked the largest in a slightly concerned whisper, or as concerned as a skinwalker could be, and the giant shadowy figure only silently watched.

“Is it diseased?”

A second asked in a hushed whisper, poking at you with a finger, only for you to yelp and hop away on one foot, unable to regain your balance while continuing to juggle the rocks, meaning you were now constantly hopping on one foot.

Juggling was a trick you’d originally learned to impress some of your younger cousins and nephews and whatnot, and mostly forgotten, but it had somehow kicked back into you at the last moment.

Eventually, though, they continued poking at you, and you dropped a rock on one’s finger, before deciding to fully commit and hurling the two remaining ones at the shadowy beasts while falling flat on your ass.

They hissed, swatting them away, but only getting halfway through the motion before a giant blaze of flame consumed them, trapping them in a burst of golden light, and then they were just…gone.

Not even a pile of ashes, no bones, no remains, nothing.

However, the male from earlier was there, walking through the now-black grass, offering you a hand while giving you an odd look. You took it, and he sighed, offering his name. It sounded mildly familiar, probably because you’d heard snippets of the bond between him and Elain before, but it was a topic most people avoided in Night Court. His hair meant he was Autumn Court, no doubt.

“Lucien.”

He said simply, and you swallowed, immediately going to your horse’s side and checking her.

“Y/N.”

You replied, hands smoothing over your horse’s coat, trying to soothe the spooked animal as it nervously nickered and scraped its hooves against the ground, bringing up dirt.

“That was certainly one way of…distracting them.”

He said in a tone that barely held back that he thought you were insane, but also mildly entertaining.

“You looked at the rocks, didn’t you?”

You said, giving him a scowl, and he paused a moment, raising a brow, before shaking his head.

“I meant for you to go pull some out to unwedge the boulder up there to flatten them.”

He said, sass evident in his dry tone. You paused, glancing up at where you’d been trapped, and sure enough, there was a giant boulder above some of the rocks you’d used to juggle. Embarrassment heated your cheeks as you swallowed, eyes shifting back to your horse.

“Oh.”

He snorted at the reply, rather undignified for a pretty boy such as himself, shaking his head, before walking over to your horse as well and assisting in checking her.

“Only a few little nicks, nothing terrible.”

He said, and you gave him a look.

“A few nicks is terrible. Imagine if you were a horse and you had a few nicks.”

You replied, scowling once again at him, getting quite protective over the horse that technically wasn’t even yours. You’d only just stolen her a few days ago.

He gave you a flat gaze, before blinking.

“I do have a few nicks.”

A few seconds passed in silence, before he pursed his lips, sighed through his nostrils, and tapped the scar on his face with one finger.

“Ohh….. That is not what I meant.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t.”

“Shut up.”

“I just saved your life and this is how you’re thanking me?”

“I’m starting to wish you hadn’t.”

An exasperated sigh from him again, as those seemed to be his favorite form of expression.

“Why are you even out here?”

“Why are you out here?”

He gave you an annoyed look, something akin to almost a pout on his lips.

“I’m an emissary. It’s my job to travel between courts.”

You raised a brow, hand running over your horse’s dark coat.

“Why by foot when you can easily winnow? Going by foot outside of the court’s boundaries at that.”

More annoyance crossed his features before his hand went to rub the bridge of his nose.

“You’re avoiding the question.”

“So are you.”

“Just answer this, where are you going?”

You took a moment of pause, trying to consider whether Lucien was a man to be trusted, looking him up and down. When he raised a brow, you considered it a sure.

“Autumn Court.”

A well-covered-up sour look crossed his face.

“Why there, of all places?”

“I have people there I want to see, and other people I don’t want seeing me. So I’m going to Autumn Court. Using this way.”

He looked at you like you were stupid. You were not stupid.

“And you’re still taking this way?”

“Yes.”

“After almost being devoured by skinwalkers?”

“Yes.”

He frowned, hand going to run through his russet locks as he looked to be thinking.

“I could take you there, I suppose. We’ll still have to travel by foot, seeing as I used all my magic saving you.”

A slightly dirty look in your direction for him having to have used all of his magic just to save your sorry ass. You only gave a little frown, and a reluctant sigh as if you’d accept the offer. And you would. It wasn’t like you had any other choice, but if he was going to be all snarky about it, you would match it.

“Guess we’ve got a new travel buddy.”

You muttered to your horse, patting it on the head.

Your new travel buddy was surprisingly useful, as it turns out. He’d taught you how to forage, what was poisonous and what wasn’t, and what mushrooms you could eat if cooking them well enough (you brought home deadly mushrooms 90% of the time but you looked so happy when he said “good job” that he pretended they were normal and exchanged them for edible ones when you weren’t looking).

You were not meant for hunting, your arm was too unsteady to hold a bow well, fingers kept slipping off the string, the arrow wouldn’t stay straight…it was a mess. Your knife usage wasn’t much better, but you at least got one rabbit over nearly four days.

He hadn’t shared much with you other than his name, but you’d gathered that he was a Vanserra, Emissary for Night Court, and he was always talking about some band of friends named Vassa and Jurian. When you asked, he wouldn’t elaborate. Something about a Band of Outcasts.

He helped make the fire with his magic, and passed out at night, going into a deep sleep to recover what he’d spent of his energy that day, leaving you with the first watch.

Not many incidents occurred after the skinwalker one, but more than once you’d heard twigs snapping when they shouldn’t be, or bushes and leaves rustling. That was usually when you started adding more logs and thatch to the fire, and the noises quickly stopped after that.

You shared the food and drink with him, and he gratefully took it, most of the time both of you eating and discussing childhood meals you’d had to pass the time.

“My mother used to make the spiciest chili I’ve ever had, I couldn’t get it down without crying.”

“Seriously? Isn’t she like, a High Lady, though?”

“She might be a High Lady, but she’s a mean cook, and has a concerning tolerance for spice.”

“Damn. My grandparents make dishes all the time. Potato or tomato soups…lots of soups, but sometimes they’ll make this delicious curry, too.”

“Is the potato soup not bland?”

“No, they like…sauté onions and add salts and peppers, all that. It’s delicious.”

“Maybe I’ll get potato soup someday, just to try it.”

You had given a crooked grin at that, one he couldn’t help but smile at. You reminded him a lot of his younger brothers when they’d still been mere teenagers, except you were older, but still seemingly just as carefree and young at heart.

Your horse was carefree as well, mainly in the manner she didn’t care about anything you told her to do.

“Just lift your foot, it’s not that hard.”

You seethed, trying to pull her hoof up to pick whatever dirt and rocks had gotten into it out, so she didn’t get any sort of infection or injuries from it. However, she huffed and refused to do so much as to bend her knees. Stubborn thing.

Lucien strolled over, dropping a pile of gathered wood before observing the scene before him. He took the sharpened stick you were trying to use as a hoof-pick right out of your hands, and with the most feline ease you'd ever seen before, easily got the mare to lift her hoof, and he cleaned it out.

You stared, blinking, internally furious. He smirked lazily as he glanced over at you. The horse huffed again, this time more relaxed, and he looked a bit more curious then.

“What’s her name?”

Your mind blanked on that, you standing there silently like an idiot, before replying.

“I never really named her, considering I’m immortal and she’s going to die someday. Thought it would be better not to get attached.”

A lie. Not a full lie, but you’d really just forgotten to name her, and accidentally gotten attached along the way. Lucien raised a brow.

“You seemed awful attached when you attacked an eight-foot-tall-“

“Hush.”

He rolled his eyes, but obeyed, moving on to another hoof to clean.

“You should name her. Might make her listen to you better?”

He suggested, and you sighed.

“I don’t even know what to name her. I’m not great with naming things. One of the many reasons I’m never having kids.”

His lips twitched into a small smile at that, but quickly faded into a more thoughtful, deep expression, as if thinking hard about something.

A silence passed over you both as he worked, and you idly watched, toying with your hair, not sure and also not very willing to do anything else. He eventually spoke up when he finished cleaning out her hooves, looking the horse over. Her little nicks had been patched up by you and him days ago.

“Jesmind.”

“What?”

“Name her Jesmind.”

“Okay…any particular reason why?”

He shook his head at that, as if not going to talk about it any further.

“She just…reminds me of someone, is all.”

You raised a brow but didn’t push. Not when he went to go walk out into the woods, and you walked over to your dark mare, brushing your hand over her muzzle and looking into her defiant eyes.

“Jesmind, huh?”

You mused, testing how the name sounded on your tongue.

“Blink twice if you think it should be your name.”

The horse just watched, blinking once slowly, and when you made a flicking motion with your fingers, it blinked again, looking annoyed.

“Yeah, it’s perfect. Confirmed by the horse herself.”

You said, grinning to nobody in particular as you began walking away, trying to find Lucien, only to almost fall face first off of a cliff edge. One hand grabbed the back of the jacket you were now wearing, pulling you back up.

“We’re here.”

He spoke grimly. This place, Autumn Court, didn’t hold fond memories for him. You could tell. And from what you’d seen and heard of his family and court…you wouldn’t be surprised if they’d done awful things to him. There was a reason he’d run from here so many years ago, after all.

“How am I going to get down there?”

You asked, looking down the large cliff. It was too steep for Jesmind to go down, even trying to go on the sides of it wouldn’t work.

“I’ll winnow you both,”

He said all too casually. You blinked slowly, turning to him.

“I thought you couldn’t winnow, that you needed to regenerate your magic.”

He gave you an amused smile.

“I had more than enough magic to winnow you and your mare the first time we met.”

Your fury slowly began to rise as you gaped at this male in front of you.

“Then why-“

“I was bored, and you seemed like entertaining company.”

Before you could even muster a reply, he gave you a pat on the back, walking back to camp and returning with your horse in one hand and your things in another. He handed you your bag, which you slung around your shoulder, and you took the reigns of Jesmind.

“Will I see you again?”

You asked, and he gave a lazy, but genuine smile this time.

“I’ll never stop annoying you, don’t worry.”

You huffed a bit of laughter.

“That’s a relief.”

His hand went to your shoulder again, and the tangy iron scent of magic hit you once again like it had in the very beginning days of the journey.

“A word of warning,”

He then said, voice now serious.

“Stay out of trouble, and stay away from my brothers. The High Fae of Autumn are not people you want to get caught up with.”

You gave a nod, and in a flash of golden light and fire like a rising sun, you were then in the bustling streets of a city, no Lucien in sight, looking more than a little ghetto.

A horse in one hand, bag hanging from the other, wearing clothes that were best described as hunting clothes rather than the proper clothing most wore, you began walking, the sun so bright and heavy that you could barely see.

Jesmind nickered, pulling to the side of the street.

Just quick enough for you to walk straight into the chest of none other than Eris Vanserra.

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#writers on tumblr #acotar fanfiction #acotar fandom #acotar x reader #acotar fluff #azriel acotar #eris vandaddy #eris vanserra #eris acotar #pro lucien vanserra #lucien vanserra #platonic!lucien #a court of thorns and roses #fanfiction #fanfic writing #writing community

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starry-eyesanddaydreams · 10 months ago

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NSFW Alphabet - Hans Gruber

And we’re back with the filth, Hans Gruber edition 😉 What delights do Hans and his partner in crime get up to?

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Brings you a drink and gives you a massage. Whispers sweet nothings to you in English and German as you fall asleep.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His shoulders. He's got a strong build, and it makes those fancy suits he likes look very good.

Your hands. Whether you're touching him, a weapon, a computer keyboard, your hands hold his attention and drives him crazy.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Inside you. He loves to feel you tighten around his cock, taking all of him.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He doesn’t really have any dirty secrets. You know all his most filthy desires and have done most of them.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He’s decently experienced. Enough to know what he likes and how to please you.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He likes having you spread out on a desk or table, your legs around his waist and his feet on the ground so he can thrust nice and hard into you.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He’ll laugh darkly at the way you get when you’re desperate from being edged or completely cock-drunk.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Well groomed and neat is his style.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He can actually be very romantic with you. His favourite term of endearment for you is Schatzi, whispered in your ear or against your lips. You are his treasure, his jewel, and he makes sure you know it.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

While you watch. He’ll stroke himself while you strip, a slow tease for both of you. Sometimes you’ll watch him finish, sometimes you can’t resist and end up knelt between his legs finishing the job for him.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Edging. He loves bringing you to the brink over and over. Prolonging the sensation before finally making you see stars. Impact play. A little pain to heighten the pleasure, like smacking your ass as you ride his thigh.

L = Location (favourite places to do the do)

Anywhere really. He’ll prefer somewhere where with some luxury like a fancy hotel room, but he’ll take you against the wall of a parking garage if the mood strikes.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

When you square up against someone, verbally or physically. To Hans, it's a thing of beauty to watch you skilfully hand someone their ass and it drives him wild. And on the flip side of that, when you're submissive and vulnerable to him. He is the only person in the world you would be like that with and that mix of trust, love and sensuality really turns him on.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Not much is off the table with him. He won’t do public sex thought. He is possessive and won’t have anyone else see you like that.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He enjoys giving just as much as receiving and is very skilled.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Rough and sensual.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Happens a fair amount. He’s such a composed, in control man, you like teasing him till he snaps and takes you hard and fast wherever you are.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He likes to experiment when something intrigues either of you. You’ve indulged in some gun and knife play, so he’ll take some risks but not push things too far.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

On average, four. Sometimes more. He likes to wear you out and make sure your legs are still weak the next day.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He doesn’t really have a use for toys. Prefers the satisfaction of using his hands and mouth make you scream.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Definitely a tease. He’ll touch you everywhere except where you need until you beg. He’ll keep your hands pinned down so you can’t touch him. The man’s a menace.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He’s not really loud. More heavy breathing, gasps and growls.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Planning the tower heist together was a massive turn on for both of you. You had desk sex on top of your plans several times.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

A good seven inches and thick.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

High but controlled.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

It takes him a little while to fall asleep after. He’ll usually sit half up in bed and finish a cigarette, enjoying the after glow and the feeling of you laying in his arms.

#hans gruber x reader #alan rickman #hans gruber #die hard #n s f w alphabet #Lemon

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five-bi-five-mind · 1 year ago

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Instead

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Jennifer Jareau x fem!reader

Genre: Angst-ish, Hurt & Comfort, Smut

Words: 9.4k+

Summary: JJ had been in love with you from the very moment she met you. The only problem is, you've been with someone else this whole time. Not only that, but he treats you like shit and you keep running back to him. Is there more to it than she knows or do you truly love him the way she wished you loved her?

Warnings: Mentions of stalking, cheating, and unhealthy relationships. Smut, fingering (r receiving), marking (r receiving), top!JJ, bottom!r, smut with a lot of feelings okay

A/N: I was really into this concept and then I really wasn't... but it's finished and now I can move on to other fics. Hope y'all enjoy it though!

(gif not mine, credit to greencways)

This happened way too often, but JJ was there every single time. She knew the signs, knew what was going on. You didn’t have to say a word and she would immediately understand what was going on with you. It was the look in your eyes, even when you smiled. Those eyes always said the opposite of whatever you tried to tell her. Or even what you tried to tell yourself.

He was always bad for you, from the moment JJ met him, she knew he wasn’t ever going to be what you deserved. And, boy, was she completely right. She lost count of the amount of times she would catch you bawling your eyes out over something stupid he said or did. You’d often try to appear unbothered, but the minute she would approach you and ask if you were okay, you’d utterly fall apart. And every single time, she would open her arms for you to fall into. She would stroke your hair and wipe your tears and tell you all about how he’s not good enough for you and that you deserve someone who would never treat you nearly as bad as he did. There was always the silent sentence she never said, though. The one that ends with something along the lines of someone like me or I would never treat you that way. But she always held her tongue, feeling selfish everytime she was tempted to say it.

Without fail, whenever there was a fight, your horrible boyfriend would come back with some excuse, some way of apologizing, and you’d rip yourself from her arms and fall right back into his. Not that you even knew that JJ wanted you to stay in her arms, but it still hurt like hell every single time. She tried to tell herself for a while that it hurt so much because she knew he would hurt you so much. You were her closest friend, so of course it was just that she cared deeply for you like a friend should. Right? That lie only lasted so long. A year went by and she was stuck with this horrible crushing feeling in her chest. Finally, JJ couldn’t deny it at all anymore. It was incredibly obvious to everyone except for you, it seemed, that she was completely in love with you.

So then she went through these phases each time you took him back. It would start with the painful feeling of rejection, even if you were completely unaware that you were rejecting her. Then she would get angry. Go, be in love, JJ would think, I don’t care. But that was a complete lie, because she would remember all the times you’d smile at her. Really smile. A smile she swore you’d never give that man. She saw the two of you together, she saw the forced smile you gave him in the rare moments he’d hold your hand, kiss your cheek, and be a semi-decent partner. It’s what confused her the most about this situation. It also, unfortunately, gave her this false sense of hope that maybe you didn’t feel the way you said you felt.

But then again, why did you fall apart every time he left? Why did you run back into his arms every time he came back? JJ found herself laying awake in bed at night way too often, just mulling over these questions for hours. She didn’t get her answer, but this time… This time was the last straw.

She knew what was going on within seconds of seeing your face. It was the way your eyes were just slightly puffy and how you’d let out a small sigh before throwing on a forced smile. To your credit, you were really good at selling that smile, but JJ just knew. You walked around the office, your eyes never really focusing on any one thing. Your mind was obviously elsewhere than whatever task was at hand. The team didn’t seem to pay much mind, too busy closing up a case, while you did your own duties alone in your little corner of the BAU. JJ knew exactly what all of this meant and she felt herself get angry this time. It was a new feeling for her; a break in the routine. She usually was just concerned for you and angry at him, but this time it was just the whole situation.

So, when she got you alone in her office, the back and forth was a little different. It started out the same, though. You did that avoidance thing. The thing where you gave her a pained smile and swore up and down you were fine, while she pursed her lips and crossed her arms. JJ wasn’t buying it at all. She never did.

“Really,” you sighed, “I don’t want to get into it.”

“Of course you don’t.” JJ rolled her eyes and your own widened. She had never been even remotely snappy with you. “Because it's probably the same shit it always is. God,” she scoffed, “Why do you let him jerk you around like this?”

You stood there, your eyes filled with disbelief, and you both just stared. If JJ were being honest, she wasn’t proud of that. She was a little shocked all of it came out of her mouth and even more shocked at how harsh her tone was.

“You don’t get it.” Your tone wasn’t exactly harsh like JJ’s, but she could tell she struck a nerve.

“What’s there to get?” JJ threw her hands up, obviously letting her frustration boil over. She got this far, might as well keep pushing. Did JJ think it was a good idea? No, maybe not, but she wanted you to finally get a grip on the reality of this relationship. It was clearly not good for you. “He’s not reliable. He doesn't consider your feelings. He clearly hurts you every single time he goes off and fucks up. And god, he has fucked up so often.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.” Your tone was a warning. “You don’t know everything.”

“What then?” JJ knew she was pressing. She knew she was pissing you off, but frankly she didn’t care. She couldn’t watch you fall apart again only to go back to the very person who kept mistreating you. She couldn’t handle you choosing him again instead of her. “Jesus, what is his hold on you? Why do you let him treat you like shit? You run back to him every damn time too! It’s— fuck, it’s ridiculous! Why don’t you have more self worth when it comes to him?”

You definitely did not look pleased right now. Your face was twisted into a tight lipped frown and JJ didn’t think she’s ever seen you look at her like that. Her eyes flicked down to your hands and saw the way they were balled into fists, before looking back up, finally into your eyes. That’s when the anger fled her body and was immediately placed with crushing guilt. Your face told her you were pissed, but your eyes… Always those god damn eyes of yours. They were so expressive and JJ could read them better than anyone. She saw, hidden behind this anger, the pain and, to her confusion, the fear.

An uncomfortable tension filled the room and finally you took a slow, deep breath. Your eyes closed for a minute and JJ noticed the way your hands squeezed for a second before you relaxed them. When your eyes reopened and met hers, she realized you were trying to calm yourself down. It was like you had that routine down, like it was a factory reset of your own emotions, and she wondered how often you had to do that. Her gut twisted when she realized you needed to because of her.

“I said I was fine,” you said in the most monotone voice. “So, if you don’t need anything else, I have files I need to get back to.”

JJ’s jaw clenched as she realized that you, for the first time, were shutting down in front of her— because of her. She gave a short nod and turned her eyes to the floor as you walked right out of her office.

Fuck, she thought. JJ had fucked up with you. She pushed when you warned her not to and now she has some apologizing to do. Then again, she still was curious about the look in your eyes. What exactly weren’t you telling her? You said she didn’t know everything, so what else was there? Something told JJ whatever it was would just make her even more angry about this whole situation.

———————————-

This might look bad. That’s what JJ was worried about as she stood in front of your door with a bag full of takeout boxes of your favorite foods. It might look like she was pushing, and she absolutely was. That was her goal anyways. She needed to know whatever it was you weren’t telling her.

It took a couple of minutes of pacing in front of your door before she finally took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and knocked. Her grip tightened on the bag of food, and she took a few more slow breathes as she waited for you to answer.

Thank god you lived alone. For whatever reason the two of you had never moved in together and as far as she knew, you had no intentions of doing that. That was something at least. That you understood a little that if he treated you so badly when you spent time together, living with him 24/7 would make your situation even worse.

JJ’s foot tapped on the ground as she waited outside your apartment. She couldn’t hear if you were coming to the door or not, but she knew you were home. When you finally did rip the door open, there was absolutely no surprise in your eyes when you saw that it was her on the other side. Was she really that predictable? JJ fully understood that to everyone else who knew about her feelings for you, it looked like she was some lovesick puppy, following you around until you finally opened your eyes. The fact that you weren’t surprised she was standing at your door stung a little.

“I came bearing gifts.” JJ held up the bag of food. “And to apologize. Can I come in?”

You didn’t reply, but you didn’t have to. All you did was step out of the way so she could enter and she knew all was forgiven.

JJ knew your apartment well at this point. There were too many nights she spent just sitting next to you in your living room, sleeping next to you on your bed, taking in everything about your space that felt very you. Of course, all of this time she spent there with you, you were none the wiser about the fact that it made her heart go crazy. How could you know that sharing a bed made her ache to reach out for you? Or know that spending so much time in your personal space felt almost like a domestic bliss JJ so badly wanted to share with you? You had no idea and it tugged at her heart in the most uncomfortable way each time.

She knew your apartment so well that, as she walked into the kitchen, she didn’t even wait for you to get anything. JJ already started rummaging through your cabinets for plates and your drawers for silverware, knowing exactly where to find them. You just stood back and watched as JJ plated the food, never saying a word. Not a lot of things unsettled JJ, but your silence was always one of them. When you were silent, it meant you were really hurting or stressed. She could imagine, right now you might be feeling both or— she thought back to that look of fear in your eyes— perhaps it meant something worse? Was your mind preoccupied with something scaring you?

“So…” JJ broke the silence herself, handing you the plate as she spoke. “I stopped by that place you like on 4th street.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled, taking the plate and turning to go to your couch. She followed after you. You owned a dining table. Granted, it was small, but plenty of room for you two and all the food JJ over-ordered. But JJ liked to think you chose to sit on the couch and eat there because of how close you two could be. Hopeful thinking again, she realized that, but damn… she had it bad.

“Listen,” JJ started as she sat down next to you. “I’m sorry about my outburst today.” She paused for a moment, reading your face. Your expression was neutral, but she knew you were listening and receptive. You were always so kind, too kind for your boyfriend, so she wasn’t worried you would be angry for long. “I just hate seeing when you hurt. And I worry that you’re not okay… That something is really bothering you.”

“I’m fine,” you said in a very unconvincing tone as you absentmindedly pushed your food around on the plate.

“You say that but…” JJ trailed off and didn’t continue that thought when she saw the warning glance you gave her. She dropped it for a moment, but she was going to bring it back up. Just not yet.

As you both ate, conversation turned to unimportant things. It was obvious that you were both avoiding the pressing subject— your shitty boyfriend. Or maybe ex-boyfriend if JJ was lucky this time. When you two were done JJ took both your plates without waiting for you to get up and made her way to the kitchen. She was entirely too aware of the way your eyes stayed glued to her as she washed the dishes, dried them, and put them back in their rightful place.

You would do that sometimes. Just stare at her when you thought she wasn’t looking or wasn’t aware. But she always knew. JJ was always aware of you, even if you weren’t aware of her. It was like she had finely tuned herself to notice every little thing about you, whether she meant to or not. She just had to be and at first she didn’t understand why. Then, when she realized it was because she was in love with you, it all made sense. It was blatantly obvious that the man you kept running back to wasn’t taking care of you in the slightest, so JJ did it instead. Deep down, she hoped you would notice; hoped you would understand that she would treat you better than he ever would. But it’s been a year of her pining and your constant heartbreak and still things between you and JJ haven’t changed.

When she was done with everything she sat down next to you again and, to her relief, you scooted closer. Her eyes studied you and she wondered if now was the time to press again. However, this time she was going to be more gentle.

“Listen,” she started. “I know it’s a touchy subject, but I really want to talk about-”

“Can we just not please?” Your eyes left hers and she watched the way your body shifted uncomfortably on the couch. At least you didn’t scoot away from her. That was one small relief for JJ.

“I think we need to.” JJ was trying to keep her tone as gentle as possible this time. Patience, she must have patience with you. Clearly, there were some details she was unaware of. You hinted at as much, anyway. “I just don’t understand why this keeps happening. You do know you deserve far better than him right? That you don’t deserve all the pain he puts you through.”

You nodded slowly, your shoulders slumping as your eyes fell to your fidgeting hands. It was absolutely clear in that moment, to JJ, that you did know you deserved better. A spark of irritation filled her chest, but she tried to take a couple of deep breaths. She didn’t know the full story, she was trying to convince herself that maybe what you said next would be a good reason for why you still stayed.

“It’s complicated, JJ,” you breathed a shaky sigh. “I know he treats me like crap, but there’s a reason I stay. He takes care of me…”

“Are you sure about that?” JJ’s jaw clenched as she thought of all the times he’d fuck up. “Because it looks like he could care less about your feelings or your wellbeing for that matter.”

“No.” You shook your head hard. “No, not in that way. It’s…” Your eyes closed tightly and you took another deep breath. It was at that moment that something clicked for JJ. It was a face you made every once in a while when you brought your boyfriend around and he said something stupid. It was a look of shame that had washed over you and whatever irritation JJ had felt a moment ago was replaced with a feeling of worry. “It’s that with him around I feel… protected, I guess.”

“Protected?” JJ’s brows furrowed as she tried to understand. You worked at the BAU, so of course you saw some scary stuff. You weren’t one of the members who would go out in the field, sure, which meant you didn’t have all the training of an agent, but you had the basics. She didn’t think even for a second you’d be afraid of anything coming back on you from the job. It wasn’t like your face was even known to anyone involved in any one of the cases.

“Not– It’s not from the job,” you quickly corrected, reading exactly where JJ’s confusion was coming from. “I had this boyfriend back in undergrad. Things didn’t exactly end the way he wanted it to.”

JJ felt like her stomach was dropping as she watched you fidget even more. She knew, whatever you were about to say would tie everything together for her, but it still made her feel sick. The idea of you being scared of anyone made her feel unimaginably uncomfortable for you.

“Ever since, he’s just kind of been around,” you shut your eyes tight for a moment before continuing. “I could move and then, somehow, I’d just bump into him. He would always be there when I met someone new. He just– He hovers. He’s never hurt me, but then again I don’t ever want to let my guard down.”

“So with your boyfriend then…?” She was still trying to put the pieces together of where your current boyfriend fit in. It didn’t quite make sense that you would leave one shitty guy and then find another.

“My boyfriend scares him. It wasn’t always bad between us, not at the very beginning. He was protective and I felt safe. There was this one time when he caught on that we were being followed– He made this big show of how protective he was. Ever since then, I’ve felt a little less like I need to keep looking over my shoulder.”

JJ was nodding patiently as you explained. Suddenly, she understood just about everything. It wasn’t that you were so heartbroken that he was treating you so badly, that he would cheat on you, that he would disregard your feelings, it was that he provided something important for you. Something that helped you just exist without having to be terrified all the time. It made sense now to JJ. She knew how important it was to feel safe, to feel protected. It broke her heart that you thought you needed to put up with poor treatment just to be safe. Didn’t you know she could protect you so much better than your boyfriend ever could?

“Why are you just telling me this now?” JJ’s voice was gentle, barely a whisper. She felt like if she were to push anymore you’d break in front of her.

“I don’t know, I was ashamed. Maybe? But I know you’re tired of seeing me go through the same routine with him. He always does this thing where he’ll run off with someone else and I’ll be scared, but it’s not– I’m not scared of losing him, just of being alone. I was so tired of looking over my shoulder, but when he showed up it was better… He always comes back though. Always.”

It was like you were trying to convince yourself of that fact. The way you gulped right after you said that, your eyes looking anywhere but at JJ. You knew she could read you, that she could tell when you had doubts or were lying. JJ wondered if you really thought he would come back this time? She knew it might be selfish, after all the things you just told her, but she hoped he never would come back. If he made a show of protecting you to your stalker, then she could make a better one if she needed to.

“And if he doesn’t?” JJ knew this question was going to be a hard one for you to answer, but she needed you to see that he wasn’t the answer to your problem.

“He will.” You said that almost as if it were a bad thing. Or maybe JJ was reading into it.

“You don’t need him to,” JJ urged. Okay, so now maybe she was being a bit more selfish, but she also wanted you to know that even if he didn’t come back you’d be safe. JJ would protect you with her life, she thought you understood that already. Even if you didn’t know what feelings she had for you exactly, she thought you knew how important you were to her in general. “You don’t need his protection.”

You let out a bitter chuckle at that and rolled your eyes. “Yeah, okay,” you snorted. “JJ, I’m not a field agent like you. It’s not that easy for me to protect myself when I’ve only got the bare basics of self-defense down. By the time I have more skill in that, my ex will have already made an appearance or worse.”

“That’s not what I meant.” JJ was trying to give you the most determined look she could give you and you looked back at her, clearly confused.

Realization dawned on you as you understood what she was implying. “I can’t expect you to always be there.”

“I would.” She didn’t miss a beat. Her tone was almost pleading. “I’d protect you and– I don’t know, I can teach you to protect yourself in the meantime. Just–” She was getting desperate as she watched the way you shook your head in protest with every word she said. “Please, just let me. Please.”

“JJ, shh,” you cooed, your arms suddenly coming up to pull her into an embrace. For a moment, JJ felt pathetic. It was her job right now to console you, but here you were holding her and trying to calm her. She didn’t realize how upset she was about this whole situation. She hated that you were allowing yourself to be mistreated just so you could have some sense of protection from another bad relationship of your past. She hated that you felt scared at all, she never wanted you to feel that way. More than anything, she hated that you didn’t think she would protect you, that you even needed your horrible boyfriend in the first place, when she was right here practically screaming choose me, pick me!

“I’ll be okay,” you murmured, your hand running up and down her back in a way to comfort her. Only, instead it made her heart race. Her arms wrapped around you now, holding you close for a moment. “You don’t need to take this on, okay? I can handle this.”

It wasn’t like that for JJ. It wasn’t a burden for her to take on, it was something she’d do for the rest of her life happily if you let her. It was something that she already was doing, even if you weren’t aware of it. Whether you felt the same as her or not, she would protect you with her life for as long as you would have her around. She had to make you understand that.

So she pulled back a little from the embrace. “It doesn’t have to be like this,” she whispered as her eyes searched yours. You looked back at her with a soft, wistful gaze, but you let her continue. “Let me be here for you instead…” She trailed off and started to lean in. It was now or never, and her eyes closed just as yours widened. But still, you didn’t move, you didn’t pull away, clearly knowing exactly what JJ’s intentions were. Instead, you held perfectly still until finally, for the first time, JJ’s lips met yours.

The kiss was gentle and earth shattering all at the same time. JJ was scared you’d pull away, but you didn’t. Instead, your lips parted for a brief moment, a slow exhale fell from your lips onto hers and she shuttered. She expected you to pull back, but instead you waited and she kissed you again. When she kissed you this time, you instantly melted into her. It was like every nerve ending in JJ had finally woken up. The moment she had waited for so long was happening and it was better than she ever imagined it to be.

Her hands tightened around your waist and the small sound you let out, as you were pressed closer to her chest, made her heart skip a beat. Your hands were holding onto her for dear life. She could feel a slight tremble from your body, but when she thought she should pull away, you kissed her harder.

One of JJ’s hands left your waist, only to reach up and cup your cheek. You had never been kissed so lovingly, so deeply in your entire life. JJ, on her part, was trying to pour every ounce of love she’s ever had for you into the way she was kissing you. It was intoxicating for both of you. For a moment, everything melted away. There was no tension between you two, there was no shitty boyfriend that JJ was desperate to get you away from, there were no unspoken feelings that plagued JJ’s mind every waking minute. There was only you and her and this moment. A moment that meant everything to JJ.

But it was fleeting. Maybe JJ had pushed it a little too much. One second she was brushing her tongue lightly along your bottom lip, a small gasp escaping from you as she did. The next, you were pushing her back and she was blinking at you in confusion over the abrupt change.

“What are you doing?” You said breathlessly. Your eyes were shining and JJ realized they were rimmed with tears that had yet to fall. JJ was kicking herself. Obviously, she had rushed this way too much.

“I’m sorry, maybe I shouldn’t have–”

“I don’t need you to do this, JJ,” you interrupted. “You don’t have to. Just because I’m scared of being alone doesn’t mean– you don’t have to make this sacrifice just so I can feel safe.”

“What?” JJ was trying as hard as she could to understand what you meant. Sacrifice what? Her own safety? Surely, that couldn’t be what you meant. JJ’s own job put her safety at risk constantly, so you had to understand that she wasn’t worried about that when it came to being with you. She would be safe and she’d keep you safe, it wasn’t a problem. So what were you talking about?

“I don’t want you to think you have to be with me in order to fix all my problems. That’s not fair to you. Or to us.” You were squeezing your eyes shut so tight as you spoke and JJ realized the hands still pressed to her shoulders were trembling even harder now.

“I don’t think that,” JJ put her hands over yours, trying to calm you. She was starting to understand now and her heart ached for you yet again. Of course, you’re so used to being treated badly that you didn’t even realize how genuine JJ was trying to be. “Just…” she let go of one of your hands to brush away a tear that had fallen down your cheek, “be with me instead.”

“Oh.” That was all you said. Things were clicking for you now too. The word instead rang through your ears and suddenly it all made sense. “Oh,” you repeated, this time with more shock in your voice. JJ was putting it all out there for you now and nerves were getting the best of her. But what would it look like if she backed out now? If she couldn’t handle the fear of being vulnerable in front of you, how could she show you that she could protect you from the things you feared most?

“JJ,” your voice was barely above a whisper, “Have you always had feelings for me?”

She swallowed hard. It was a question she knew was coming, but still, that didn’t make this moment any easier. If she was going to put herself out there, then she might as well bare it all. Yet, words escaped her. Her heart pounded in her chest so loud, she could hear its beat ringing through her ears. All she could manage was a nod.

You sat back a little and it looked like you got the wind kicked out of you. It was very clear to JJ now that you really had absolutely no clue about how she felt. In all fairness, that wasn’t a surprise for JJ. She was probably a little too good at keeping a poker face around you, even if she didn’t mean to. Although, with you, for so long she was terrified of you finding her out and losing you all together. She warred with herself for so long on telling you about her feelings, but the idea of ruining your friendship and losing you forever felt worse than never having you in the way that she wanted. But here it all was, out in the open.

“For how long?” Your question wasn’t harsh, just genuinely confused.

“I don’t know,” JJ admitted. “Maybe they’ve always been here. It took me a while to realize it, but then you…” She didn’t need to continue for you to understand. There was always your boyfriend, so JJ thought there was never a good time. It was your turn for your heart to break for her. All the instances where you’d question her actions, her looks that she shot your way, all of it hit you. The realization was shocking in some ways, but made complete sense in others. And, for the first time, you realized just how much it pained her to watch you stay with someone who treated you with very little disregard. You thought back now to all the times you had run back into his arms and all the times she was just forced to watch. The hurt that must’ve caused her, you couldn’t even begin to imagine.

“I had no idea,” you mumbled. But then again, maybe you did? In the entire time you knew her, she had one relationship. It was a relationship she was already in when the two of you met, and it lasted maybe three or four months after you’d gotten to know each other. When it ended, JJ didn’t say much about why, just that it was for the best. Now you understood; it was because of you. “Or… I think I didn’t. I– I don’t really know either.”

JJ’s eyes stayed on you. She could tell you were going in circles in your own mind, trying to better understand this new development. Guilt was washing over her as she realized she’d put something complicated onto you, on top of all the other complicated factors you had just told her you were juggling. The kiss was a mistake. JJ knew the timing was horrible, but would she take it back? Absolutely not. Not even when you were looking at her in a way that told her she was about to get her heart ripped out. Her whole body tensed as she waited for the rejection she thought was coming, but still you just… sat there and stared.

You kept opening your mouth for a second, seeming like you had something to say, but then backing out a moment later. JJ knew whatever you were going to say wasn’t going to be easy for either of you, but she also knew you definitely had something you wanted to get out. She didn’t say anything in response to you, she just kept waiting for you to resume talking. Part of her hoped that whatever you said, it would be a good thing. Another part of her, a bigger part, worried that you were struggling so much because you were trying to tell her she made you uncomfortable and you didn’t quite know how to best reject her. Little did you know, it didn’t matter how hard you were going to reject her. JJ was going to stay by your side. Now more than ever, she understood how important that was for you.

Still, the silence was getting deafening for JJ. You stopped trying to talk and just looked down at your lap. JJ was about to finally break it when you did eventually decide to look back up at her.

“I think,” you began, “Maybe, I need a little time to wrap my head around this.”

JJ nodded hard, her heart thudding in her chest. It wasn’t what she expected you to say. It wasn’t even necessarily a good thing, but it wasn’t a rejection. She’d settle for that. “Of course,” she rapidly replied. “I know, it’s a lot. Today was a lot.” She stood up for a moment, anxiously looking around the room, trying to figure out her next move. “I’ll– I can give you space for the night. I should– Yeah, I should go.”

When your shining eyes looked up at her, it was like JJ’s world stood still. You had such sadness in them, such exhaustion. It was hard for her to see when she knew she caused even the smallest portion of it. You didn’t deserve everything you were dealing with. And to deal with it in silence for so long? It crushed her that you were just telling her all of this now.

You didn’t say anything for a moment as you stared up at her. Your head nodded the slightest bit, but JJ saw it. “Just for tonight,” you said in the smallest voice. JJ gave you a pained smile, one that she hoped would read to you that she understood completely.

JJ did as she said and found herself back home in her empty apartment before she could even realize how she managed to get there. The minute she stepped out of your place, all throughout the drive, and even as she laid in bed there was only one thing on her mind. Would things be different if she had known sooner?

She fell asleep with what if scenarios running through her head. Ideas of the two of you being happy somewhere far away from anything you feared. Far away from the shitty boyfriend you thought you had to be stuck with.

———————————-

JJ wanted to give you all the space she could possibly give you, but it wasn’t that easy. Now that she knew what she knew, it was hard for her to take her eyes off you for even a second. Not that it wasn’t already hard for her to do so without the information she now had, but now there was an extra layer to it. She felt more protective than ever, but she also knew you needed some space from her to process. So, she was constantly internally debating with herself.

You had told her you wanted space just for the night, but then you didn’t really talk to her the next day or the next or even the rest of the week after that. She kept her eye on you still, even if your eyes would never meet hers or you’d shift and squirm when she was near. It was killing her inside. A lot sooner than was probably healthy, a horrible thought popped into JJ’s head that had her spiraling. What if she had messed everything up? What if she ruined her friendship with you because she brought up her feelings?

The kiss kept replaying in JJ’s mind though, and she swore up and down that you kissed her back that night. Yes, you were the one to pull away, but before then, it felt like everything JJ was trying to give, you wanted to reciprocate. Maybe that was just all in JJ’s head, but she really didn’t think so. Then again, maybe she shouldn’t have kissed you at all. Maybe in her mind, everything seemed so different than it actually was. She just kept going on and on spiraling further into this thought process with each passing minute that she hadn’t heard from you.

Finally, after over a week of work, JJ had a day off coming up. Nothing had changed between you and her, you were still very much avoiding her. It was exhausting JJ, how worried she was about your wellbeing, how worried she was about the state of your friendship with her, how worried in general she was about all of it. JJ didn’t even have a minute to really sit down and take in the fact that it was also hurting her, knowing that she was probably rejected by you and her wishful thinking was just that– wishful thinking. But now she has a day off. A day to process. JJ didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing for her. For one, she got space away from seeing how uncomfortable you were, but then she couldn’t keep an eye on you to make sure you were safe. On the other hand, she could actually sit and think about how she was feeling and how to approach the silence you were giving her. However, she knew the minute she really started to think about it her heart would ache. JJ liked to think she was strong, but even she had her limits.

So how did she spend her day off then? By wallowing in her apartment and nursing her expected heartbreak ahead of time. At one point she did get dressed to go work out, but she never made it out of her apartment. She just stayed in her clean gym clothes and sat back on the couch, the idea of possibly running into you in the gym (even if she knew you’d probably be busy elsewhere) was too much of a risk.

When evening came and she finished checking her texts, missed calls, emails, and everything else you might message her on, she decided maybe she should get food. Before she even decided what she wanted to get delivered— there was still no way she was leaving her apartment at this point —she heard a knock on her door. Her eyebrows furrowed, there was no package she was expecting, no conversation with anyone else about coming over, nothing that warranted this knock.

With an exasperated sigh, she hoisted herself off the couch to go see who it was. It hadn’t been that long since the first knock that she heard another, more frantic tapping at her door. She huffed again, frustrated that whoever was on the other end was both impatient and interrupted her night of self loathing. A third knock came and she was getting a little pissed at this point.

Usually, being an agent at the BAU, she has a strict habit of checking the peephole before swinging a door open to an unexpected guest. But JJ hadn’t really been thinking clearly lately, so why start now when she could tell off the irritating person on the other side? Except, when she swung open the door she utterly froze.

She didn’t expect you to show up tonight, not when you had been actively avoiding her for days. Not to mention, you had never really needed to knock on her door. You had a key and both of you had a habit of just waltzing into each other’s places. So, you were definitely her last guess for who was waiting on the other side.

When JJ’s shocked eyes fell on you, you looked back up at her with the look of a deer caught in the headlights. JJ’s first reaction was to ask you why you seemed so scared if you were the one avoiding her for days and then showing up at her doorstep, but she held her tongue.

“Listen, okay here’s the thing…” you started suddenly. “I thought about the night, about what happened. Okay— so I took longer than I said and I’m sorry about that, but I have a good reason. I think, maybe.” You were rambling. JJ’s eyes were still filled with shock but she still had the sense to step out of the way when you pushed yourself into her apartment. “It’s just that,” you kept talking as you let yourself in, “this isn’t just something you do quickly, you know? I was with him for a while, and you and I… I’ve never connected with someone on the level I have with you. So if there was ever an inkling that I might lose our connection, even if it’s the smallest chance—“

“(Y/N), you would never lose me.” JJ had the sense to butt in with that, but your hand came up immediately after to signal her to stop whatever explanation she was ready to give you.

“Even then… The idea is terrifying,” you looked back at her with pleading eyes. Her heart sank as she began to realize where this conversation might be going. You were still pacing and she so desperately wanted to stop you and tell you not to worry about it. You didn’t have to say them to her tonight. She didn’t know if she could manage to hear the words you might say, but she didn’t dare move from the doorway.

“This isn’t coming out how I planned.” You pressed your hands to your eyes for a second and took a deep breath. “But…” you dropped your hands and gave JJ an intense look. “Then I thought about that night and all the other nights I’ve spent with you and I thought about… that kiss.” You both gulped as you said the word. “It was,” you paused, struggling to find the right words. “It was eye opening. It made me realize something…”

JJ was holding her breath. She really wasn’t sure where this conversation was going, but she really was internally begging for you to rip off the bandage.

You took a deep breath and tried to center yourself for what you wanted to say next. JJ was on edge where she stood, trying not to let you see the way her hands trembled as she waited.

“JJ, I want to be with you.” The words were out there and JJ’s eyes widened the second she took that in.

“What?” It wasn’t that JJ didn’t hear you, it was that she was in a state of mild shock.

“I have feelings for you too. I think I’ve always known how you felt, how I felt even. I just wasn’t sure how to face it…” Your eyes fell to the floor, suddenly feeling more vulnerable than you perhaps ever had been. “But then when you left that night it was all so clear to me.”

JJ took a few steps towards you, her heart beating like a jackhammer in her chest. “Then why did you ignore me for days?”

“I wasn’t trying to.” You looked back up at her with apologetic eyes. “I said I wanted to do things right and I do. So, I wanted to make sure I put a permanent end to my relationship. All his stuff needed to be out, I needed to tell him that— You know, that this was really it. Which I did, last night. And then it took me all day to figure out what to say to you.” You let out a soft laugh and shook your head. “I had this whole script planned out. I didn’t use any of it. This has to be the messiest way to tell someone you want to be with them.”

Finally, JJ’s face shifted from shock to a soft smile. She took another step and then another until she was right in front of you. “I think it still worked out well.”

You took a step towards her and whispered, “yeah?”

“Yeah,” she nodded before reaching for your waist. She leaned in and her lips pressed against yours for the first time since that night. And just like that first time, you melted into it.

———————————-

When you made up your mind to finally tell her that you wanted to be with her, you had also told yourself that you would do things right, take things slow. However, when your back hit her mattress and you looked down at the foot of the bed to see JJ crawling up your body… Well, that ship had long sailed. Even JJ had a similar thought when you finally admitted that you wanted to be with her, but that idea quickly went out the window the minute she felt your whole body press into hers as she kissed you. Her resolve only broke further the more the two of you pulled at each other’s clothes as you made it to her bedroom.

There was still a part of both of your minds that told you two that maybe things should slow down, but then when you looked at her, pupils blown, a slight blush across your face, that idea left her mind entirely. And when she looked back at you, nothing but adoration in her eyes as her hands ran up and down your half-naked body, any worry about going too fast was erased from yours too. This was JJ after all. It wasn’t like you didn’t know her. You did, you truly knew her. Perhaps deeper than most people can know one another.

So there you both were. JJ was hovering over your body at this point and you couldn’t stop yourself from taking in the beautiful tone of her bare stomach as she waited above you in nothing but a sports bra. Without even thinking, your hands made their way to her stomach and your nails, ever so softly, raked down her skin. You watched in awe as JJ shivered and her eyes filled with lust; a look entirely new for you to see.

JJ cupped your chin and dipped her head down. The way she kissed you, slow and deep, had your chest heaving and your heart racing. Your nails dragged across her stomach until they reached around her back and you pressed her down. Now her barely clothed form was pressed against your matching half naked body. Her hand didn’t leave your chin as her tongue traced around your own. You, for the most part, could only grip at her closer as you continued to kiss her. All of these feelings, of her pressed against you, the way she kissed and touched you, everything was just overwhelming your senses in the best way. Finally, when you felt JJ’s other hand start to brush down your stomach until she pressed the palm of her hand to your bare thigh, did you start to ground yourself in the feeling of her touch. Her fingers gently traced circles on your inner thigh as she kept kissing you, with each passing second getting closer and closer to where you wanted her most.

JJ pulled back just a little, her lips still barely ghosting over yours. Her fingers were playing with the edge of your panties and you realized she was trying to get your consent. Your heart swelled for the care she was giving you. It was something that might just be considered the bare minimum, but when JJ did it, it showed just how much she respected and felt for you. All of this felt new to you tonight, not just the fact that you were about to be with JJ for the first time in a way that you had never expected before, but everything else about the encounter. Never had you felt someone cherish you as much as she did and that feeling intensified with each little touch.

You gave her a small nod, your arms moving up her back to wrap around her neck and pull her lips back down to meet yours. As you resumed the kiss, you let a small gasp out against her lips the moment you felt her fingertips dip into your panties and brush against your clit.

Her fingers stroked slowly across it once and then twice and you couldn’t stop the small sounds that escaped from you. JJ wanted to take this slow, to soak in every single sound you made and how good you felt, but it wasn’t easy. Part of her wanted to just let go of everything, to let go of the long time she spent bottling things up, but she knew you needed to feel the love and adoration she had for you before she could dive in and finally indulge in what she’s wanted for so long.

Her fingers started to trace small circles around your clit and her lips left yours to kiss across your jaw. Your eyes were screwed shut again and your hips were moving ever so slightly with the way her fingers were working on your clit. JJ’s eyes were fixated on the way your face looked, flushed and twisted in the pleasure she was giving you. Your lips parted slightly to let out a small whimper and that was when JJ knew she needed to pick up the pace. Her fingers pressed more firmly on your clit and the way they moved against it sped up. Your hips kept moving in time with her hand, trying to get more friction. JJ’s other hand went to your breast, pushing your bra up so that she could have access to your nipples. Her fingers traced around each one as her lips made their way down your neck. Neither of you seemed to notice or care that the way she started nipping and kissing at the skin there was surely going to leave visible marks.

The feelings she was building up in you was starting to become too much, but you still wanted more. The way she focused on your clit felt amazing, but you wanted to feel her– to really have her. Without hesitation, one of your hands untangled itself from around JJ to reach down and grab her wrist. Both of you were shocked by the bold move, but neither of you minded, when you pushed her hand down further into your panties. JJ knew exactly what you wanted and let her fingers circle your entrance.

You took a few deep breaths, your hand leaving her wrist to go back to pressing her body closer to yours. JJ’s lips moved down to your chest and the moment you felt her fingers start to push into you, you also felt her take one of your nipples into her mouth.

“Oh!” You did not mean to gasp as loudly as you did, but after that gasp came a moan as you felt JJ’s two fingers sink deeper into you before pulling out almost completely and pushing back in. She wasn’t going fast, but she wasn’t necessarily going slow either. The angle was a little awkward with your lower half still partially clothed, but you desperately wanted her to keep going. Eventually, your legs fell open wider to give her more space and your arms left JJ again only for a moment to frustratingly pull your panties down and kick them off. With those off, and JJ’s fingers back inside you, your head rolled back again. You couldn’t stop the constant, desperate moans and gasps that left your lips.

JJ, in the meantime, had been busy switching between your breasts, marking up each of them and running her tongue across both nipples. When she started to feel your legs shake, she knew she needed to speed up. Her lips moved back to your neck, kissing over the marks she had left behind previously. Her fingers curled and your nails pressed into her skin. The sting of it didn’t even bother her, she was too lost in this moment with you. You were practically crying out her name with each pump of her fingers inside you. She wasn’t aware of much else other than the way you felt around her fingers.

“I love you.” Her voice was muffled into your neck, barely above a whisper. “I love you…” she breathed again, her fingers pumping faster inside you while your nails dug harder into her back.

It took a moment for those words to sink in. Words you didn’t expect to hear so soon. Especially not now, not during your first night together like this. But they were out there, whether JJ meant for you to hear or not.

Your body tensed for just a moment, even if you didn’t mean to. You had hoped JJ wouldn’t notice, but like always she did. Her head pulled back, her fingers slowed to a stop but never pulled out. Immediately when she met your eyes hers filled with panic. Probably because you looked back up at her with shock.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean for–” She started to pull away. “I know this isn’t the best time to say–”

Your hands clenched harder onto her back, trying your best to get her to stop pulling away from you. “I love you too,” you whispered. It wasn’t something you expected to say, but suddenly as you looked up at her, you realized it was the truest feeling you’ve ever had.

Her eyes searched yours for a moment. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You nodded hard, your hand pressed to the nape of her neck to encourage her to lean down and kiss you once again. As she did, her fingers resumed from the pace that they had left off.

One of JJ’s hands came down to your thigh, grabbing it to hook across her waist. Her fingers hit just the right spot deep inside you and you broke the kiss to moan out a breathy, “I love you.” JJ’s pace sped up even more and that was all it seemed like you knew how to say. You kept saying it until finally, finally you came hard on her fingers.

JJ slowed her pace, letting you ride out your orgasm until you finally took a deep breath. Your eyes stayed closed and JJ, ever so slowly, pulled her fingers out of you.

“Wow,” you panted.

“Yeah,” JJ let out a breathless chuckle. “Wow.” Her hands came up to cup your face again and you pressed a kiss to her palm.

“I do really love you,” you whispered. “I don’t know how it took me this long to see that…”

She shook her head before pressing a kiss to your forehead. “We’re here now and that’s what matters.”

Your arms pulled JJ tighter into you and you knew she was right. Despite how long it took you to put up with the bad treatment and accept the fact that she was there this whole time, you two were here now. Together and in love. This was just the beginning of it, and you knew that not only were you finally able to feel truly safe, but that feeling would never go. As long as you had JJ, you felt no fear.

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v4mpire-gr1nx · 18 days ago

Text

A House in Nebraska

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Set pre-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, you and Bucky are sent on a special mission by Pierce. You succeed (cus duh) and find yourselves in an old dilapidated house in the middle of nowhere.

Word Count: 2.5k

Content: ANGST. Like, seriously, there is no happy ending here. Very minimal fluff if you squint. Reader is referred to using she/her pronouns but there is no use of Y/N!

TW: Swearing, mentions of abuse and whipping

A/N: I've never really written fanfiction before so I apologize if this is doo doo. I also wrote this at midnight in the dark with a mild headache and did NOT proofread so mistakes are expected. Other than that, ENJOY.

She had never seen so many stars all at once. A vast majority of their missions these days had taken place in large bustling cities, so to be out in the middle of nowhere like this was refreshing. The Winter Soldier- or James, as she referred to him when they were on missions alone- cleared his throat, getting her attention. She mumbled an apology and moved to unload their bags from the rear of the busted up pickup they’d borrowed.

The mission had been a success, but had taken a decent amount of time- a month and six days to be exact- to complete due to its complex nature. They could have left right from the scene but chose to hide out in an abandoned farmhouse off the side of the highway for a night or two.

“It’ll give us a chance to map out a good route back to New York,” James had grumbled in the car, “And for that gash to sort itself out.” The gash in question was stinging quite badly over right thigh as she entered the house. After taking some precautionary scans of the first floor, she sank to the floor of the kitchen. There was a slight damp spot in her suit where the injury was, a lovely sign that it was leaking through the makeshift bandage James had thrown over it. A few deep breaths later, she stood and hobbled to the sink. Shockingly, it worked. Lukewarm water oozed out of the faucet. It was slightly greyed and had a bit of a metallic smell but it was better than nothing. She swiftly undid the belt of her suit, and wriggled the pants down just enough to have access to the wound. She cupped a hand and dribbled a bit of water onto the cut, hissing at the sudden twinge of pain that shot down her leg.

“Didn’t want to wait the five minutes it would take me to find the first aid kit?” a gravelly voice asked from behind her. James leaned against the doorway, a smug grin plastered across his face.

“It was fucking hurting,” she snapped, “and you know I’m impatient.” He just scoffed and dipped back into the living room area. She let out an irritated huff and moved to get a bit more water, but James quickly returned with the aforementioned first aid kit.

“Sit on the counter.” She obeyed, but only because her leg really fucking hurt. James took his time cleaning the wound and then stitching it back together. The sun had long since set once he had finished and rewrapped her leg. It still hurt like a bitch but at least she wasn’t gushing blood anymore.

“Where’d you learn how to stitch someone up?” He looked up at her through furrowed brows and shrugged.

“Don’t know.”

—

Their dinner had composed of cold canned soup and almost stale bread. It wasn’t a five course meal but it was millions of times better than what Hydra fed them. If they fed them. She and James had taken up perch on a very broken couch in the living room. One of the arm rests was completely broken off and the back right leg was, well, on its last leg. They had been sitting in silence for hours. Not that either of them had much to say considering they had spent that last month together.

Without a word, she stood up and decided it was time for bed. She dug through their bags and found a few blankets and one sleeping bag. James just watched and she spread two of the blankets on the ground, unrolled the sleeping bag and laid it on top.

“You want it?” she asked, gesturing to it. He shook his head and grumbled something about ‘not getting cold.’ She just hummed in acknowledgment and crawled into it, leaving the third blanket for James.

She must’ve been truly exhausted because she actually managed to drift off, only awoken by the creaking of floorboards and the sudden feeling of another body behind her.

—

Three days passed. Her leg had begun to feel astronomically better and James hadsuccessfully figured out the safest route for them. They were meant to be leaving tomorrow morning and arrive in New York three days later. Pierce would be waiting for them, his ever loyal soldiers. There would be no more starry skies or cold soup. She would go back to sleeping alone in her cold dark cell, praying to someone, anyone, that this was all some terrible nightmare. But that came tomorrow. So for now she was sitting on the front steps of the house, watching the stars twinkle.

The creaking of the front door snapped her out of her haze. James stepped out holding one of the blankets and made his way over to join her. He then wrapped the blanket around her shoulders and made a face she’d never seen him make before. Like he was… content.

“I had a bad idea.” His voice was barely a whisper. She let out a chuckle, assuming it had something to do with a very old bottle of whiskey they’d found while snooping in the attic yesterday.

“Yeah?” she teased, fully ready to get drunk for the first time in over a decade. But that isn’t what he said. In fact, she could have never in a million years predicted what he was about to say.

“We could stay.” She laughed. Like, fully laughed because there was no way in hell he had just suggested that they abandon Hydra. She’d almost done it countless times before, but chose against it due to the tracker in her arm. James had one too.

“W- We can’t they know where we are-”

“No they don’t,” he stated, “No one knew about this mission but us and Pierce. He was paranoid about anyone finding out so he took them out.” It felt like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over her.

“So if you want to,” his calloused, flesh had found hers, “we can stay.” Freedom. He was offering her freedom. She couldn’t believe it. She knew time out of cryo-freeze and without constant brain zaps would make James more human but she had never once imagined him suggesting them abandoning ship. But there was something in his eyes that told her he was being dead serious. So she just smiled a gave his hand a squeeze.

“Fuck yeah.”

—

The last month of her life had been nothing short of amazing. They had made a sneaky grocery run three weeks ago and James had managed to get the old gas stove working. Cold soup had officially turned into hot soup. That wasn’t even the most exciting part, though.

Something had… shifted inside of James. His cold outer shell had started to crack and he’d begun flirting- kind of. It was light brushes of his hand to her lower back, a foot crossed over hers as they slept, and if she was lucky, a smile. Maybe flirting was the wrong word for it but it was certainly more than just friendly. She’d always thought James was attractive, but their line of work hadn’t necessarily left room for feelings to blossom. Not that she had the capacity to fall in love now- James definitely didn’t- but it was fun to daydream.

James was in the kitchen scrounging together his breakfast while she was flipping through one of the books from the attic. It was wildly boring, talking about laws and congress and a bunch of political bullshit she really didn’t care about, but it was better than having a staring content with the wall. Something James was a professional at and did often.

Thirty minutes passed before James finally joined her on the couch. It squealed as he sat.

“One day this thing is going to collapse,” she joked.

“I mean, it’s lasted us this long-” and at that exact moment, the weak leg gave out.

“That’s your fault,” James said and he helped her up off the ground, “You jinxed it.” She crossed her arms and scoffed.

“Whatever! You’ve been saying you’d try to fix it for how many weeks now? This could've been prevented!”

“Okay, sure, but you actively choose to sit on the side with the bad leg. If anything it’s your fault for putting so much pressure on it.” She gasped in mock offence and shoved him- not that he moved, the guy is a brick wall. “Nice try, doll.”

She froze. Had he just… used a pet name on her? A blush crept its way onto her cheeks as he brushed past her, moving to pick up the scattered pieces of wood around the room. Maybe she wasn’t so delusional after all.

After picking up the shrapnel and pushing the remainder of the couch out onto the front porch, she found herself wondering if they’d ever be able to be normal. If they’d ever get to let themselves fall in love. James was damaged. She didn’t know much of his past but she did know he was much older than he looked and had been severely abused by Hydra. Not to mention the metal arm. She wasn’t much better off herself. Specially trained in the Red Room as a Widow, only to be given as a gift to Hydra and used as a weapon of seduction.

No, they’d never be normal. But at least here, in this house, they got to play pretend.

—

Bucky POV

Pierce had a gun to her head and there was nothing he could do about it. He’d found them somehow and he was furious. James had immediately confessed to abandoning Hydra being his idea, but Pierce knew there was no punishment worse than having to watch her die. She had become his salvation. The one thing keeping him sane through all these years, the one thing that made him feel like a man and not some cold blooded killing machine. And he was about to watch you get your head blown off because he thought he could actually have something good for once.

He was wrong. He was always wrong.

James jolted upwards. Sweat dripped down his back and his throat felt tight. He looked to his left and there you laid, peacefully sleeping on their makeshift bed in the living room they had been playing house in. Because that’s all it was. Playing house. Pretending he could be free. He stood up and made his way to the kitchen, flipping on the tap to get some water and metallic tang filling his mouth. It almost tasted like blood.

Tears pricked in his eyes as he stood over the sink. They had to go back. They would make up some shit excuse about having to be in hiding because of Nebraska authorities and not wanting to risk getting caught for the sake of Hydra. Pierce wouldn’t believe them anyways, but it would be worth the try. James would have his memories wiped and be put back under cry-freeze but all of that was better than watching her die.

He wasn’t sure how long he stood there for, mind ruminating over every possible way he could turn the blame onto himself to avoid her punishment. The whippings. He’d seen the scars on her back and legs. Deep scars, both old and new. They made his stomach churn.

His thoughts were interrupted by the creaking of the floorboards. He turned to see her in the doorway, arms crossed over her chest and a look of concern on her face.

“You okay?” her voice was still raspy with sleep and her movements stiff and she closed the gap between them. She reached past him and shut the faucet off.

“We have to go back.” Fear graced her features and she stumbled backwards.

“What? Is Pierce here did he find us-”

“No,” James took a step toward her, wanting to cup her face and tell her Pierce would never hurt her again, “No, but he will.” Her face twisted in confusion.

“How? He doesn’t have our trackers.” James let out a breath and stuffed his hands in the pockets of his sweats.

“I just have a feeling.”

“A feeling?” She raised a brow.

“This life…” he shrugged, “It isn’t for us. We’re just playing pretend.” That was the absolute wrong thing to say. A flash of hurt shone in her eyes and she frowned.

“Pretend?” James opened his mouth to take it back but- “This isn’t pretend, James! For the first time in our lives we are free and you want to run back to that prison because you have a bad feeling?” He could’ve heard a pin drop in that silence. She made him sound so irrational but she hadn’t known Pierce as long as he did. She didn’t know what he was capable of if he found them.

“I don't know,” he mumbled.

“Bull-fucking-shit, James. I’m not leaving.” He knew then that he wouldn’t be able to convince her. She had had a taste of freedom when she was little, before being abducted and turned into a weapon. She had finally gotten that back and wasn’t going to give it up. There was no use in arguing.

“Okay. I understand,” he stepped closer and rested a metal hand on her shoulder. “Maybe I am being a little… paranoid.”

“A little?” He gave her a grin and guided her back to the ‘bed.’

“Let’s go back to sleep,” James helped her into the sleeping bag, “Might make me feel better.” He then joined her on the blankets, brushing a strand of hair out of her eyes.

“You don’t need to be afraid of him anymore, James.” Those were the last words she spoke to him that night. For many nights actually.

Because James had never known freedom. And if he had, he certainly didn’t remember it. He was the Winter Soldier and there was nothing he could do about it,

Once he was sure she had fallen asleep, James gathered some of his clothes, filled a dusty flask with that disgusting metallic water and he left. He didn’t whisper goodbye or give her a final glance before walking out the door because he knew he wouldn’t have been able to go. He didn’t take the truck either, that felt cruel. So James walked.

—

His side of the bed was cold. His things were gone. He had left her completely and utterly alone. She was only angry for a moment. But then the sobs came, and they did not stop.\

—

“My soldier returns at last!” Pierce threw his hands in the air, a wide, maniacal grin on his face as James entered the room. It didn’t take long for him to feel the gun pressed to his back. Pierce came in close, inches from his face and then kicked his knees is. James hit the ground with a thud.

“Where is my Widow?”

“I don’t know, sir.”

“Liar.” A sharp slap across the face. “Wipe him and put him in the ice box.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #winter soldier #winter soldier x reader #marvel

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