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kissingghouls · 2 years

Text

Let the Poison Spill

(Terzo x Reader, Cardinal Copia x Reader)

Chapter Five - Body (ao3 link) (previous chapter)

summary: Your life within the abbey begins to take shape, but there's only so much you're allowed to know before your baptism. Luckily, the day has arrived. (7.7k words)

tags: MDNI, NSFW, smut, secret society, Terzo x female reader, Copia x female reader, more tags on ao3

(this one got away from me this week, hopefully the next one won't take as long)

Chapter Five BODY

The day of your baptism arrived faster than you would’ve liked. You spent the better part of the next week trying to acclimate to your new life within the abbey, but Sister Imperator was insistent on finishing your initiation as quickly as possible. Mary and his friends were quick to adopt you into their circle, making you feel as comfortable as they could while you prepared. But you still found yourself distracted, searching rooms for the slightest hint of a red cassock.

So far, the Cardinal had eluded you.

There was plenty to otherwise occupy your time. Your guidebook was gaining a deep crease between the pages about baptismal offerings. And Mary was all too happy to distract himself from his pile of research to quiz you on the basic history of the Order. There was a lot to learn about the way things functioned from day to day, but you were the most surprised by the efficiency. There was a flow to everything, a current moving the abbey along as the Siblings and Ghouls moved about. Everyone existed and operated as a community. One’s interests were incorporated into jobs the Siblings and Ghouls were allowed to choose.

That impressed you more than any of the gold laying around the building.

That and the abbey somehow never ran out of hot water despite being home to hundreds of beings.

It was a quiet routine you fell into easily, moving through the corridors with the confidence of someone who truly belonged there. You were faking it, but what else could you do. It had only been a week and you were already restless, itching for the next new thing no matter how many times Mary said you had to crawl before you could walk. You expected at least a little more excitement than following your mentor around and studying in his cramped little office, but the Order had strict rules about what you could participate in prior to the baptism offering.

Surprise, surprise. They wanted more blood.

The ceremony itself was relatively simple, but even with the help of Mary and their friends you still felt unprepared. There were the words, which you had memorized by now, but you were more concerned about forgetting them the second it came to recite them. But what troubled you most was the offering. There was a symbology involved that required the help of others and was apparently deeply personal. Mary had actually blushed when you asked them what they chose.

“You guys gonna be in the library all day again?” Swiss asked as he nudged you, pulling you back to the conversation rapidly happening around you.

Mary’s friends were a tight knit group of Ghouls who had made space for you, easily bringing you into the fold as though you’d always been part of the group. They had all chosen jobs within the Project, but what that meant you still weren’t sure. You only knew they spent very little time in the library and really enjoyed gossiping and snapping at each other at breakfast. The Ghouls had taken you in and included you as much as they could, but they too were ready to see you become fully initiated.

“No. It’s kitten’s big day, remember? She’s got a meeting with Primo this morning,” Mary answered with his mouth full when you failed to speak up.

“Primo?” Swiss confirmed with a look in your direction.

You shrugged. “It’s for my offering.”

“Well, yeah, but like…” he gestured wildly with his hands. “Primo?”

You raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know what that is supposed to mean.”

“Primo doesn’t really do that anymore,” Mountain chimed in. “That’s what he means. Apparently, he thinks you’re just supposed to know that.”

“Sorry I forgot she doesn’t know about your dad—”

“He’s not my dad,” Mountain argued back.

Mary nodded at the clock, ignoring the Ghouls shouting around him. “You should get going. It will take you some time to get down there.”

You nodded, jumping slightly as Cumulus slammed her fist on the table and demanded the others shut up.

“Hey Mary? If you don’t start answering my questions after this offering thing, I’m gonna stab your eyes out with your eyeliner.”

“Oh, I’d like to see you try, kitten. I’m sure it’s frustrating, but there’s just stuff we can’t tell you yet. It’s tradition. If there’s one thing they fucking love around here—”

“It’s tradition,” you finished for him, repeating the mantra you’d heard from him almost daily. “I get that. Doesn’t mean it isn’t fucking irritating.”

“Well, if you want to skip ahead there is a ritual for patience in the guidebook. Or you can do as I say and get this thing over with the right way. And then we can move on to the much more exciting shit, but you gotta do the baptism offering first. That’s just how it is for all of us.”

“Fine. Tell me what you used,” you demanded, one eyebrow raised.

“That’s way too personal, kitten,” he replied in a shy tone you’d yet to hear from him. “Now, go on. Primo might wait all day but he won’t be happy about it.”

You gave one last look around the dining hall, wondering if they really would start to tell you anything. Maybe that was why Copia had all but disappeared. There wasn’t anything in the guidebook to explain personal relationships within the Order, but it was safe to assume if Mary couldn’t tell you anything there was certainly information the upper clergy was keeping from you. For the time being anyway.

Pulling on your coat, you pushed past the main doors and stepped onto the grounds. Winter had settled over the abbey in the past few days, the temperatures dropping steadily enough to keep the Siblings indoors. You headed toward the western edge of the property, only the low howl of wind to keep you company. Mary wasn’t lying about the distance. The hike took about twenty minutes before you were even able to spot it, but there in the distance sat a small two-story home.

Primo’s cottage was nestled between an apple orchard and a stretch of woods that looked particularly ominous. A stacked stone fence marked the line of his property, overgrown with a thick moss in an almost neon green hue. Just inside the fence line, a child ran back and forth happily chattering in gibberish only they could understand.

A Ghoul child. A little girl Ghoul.

You realized it the closer you got; how could you have missed the tail? Did the other Ghouls have tails? The girl seemed to sense your presence, stopping in her tracks to turn toward the fence.

“Who’re you?” she demanded, baring her teeth as you approached the gate. Her little round face was smeared with chocolate and cookie crumbs from the dirt cup snack in her hands, brightly colored gummy worms crisscrossing over the top of the treat. Her frilly dress, once a soft sage green, was covered in grass stains and swatches of muddy handprints. You weren’t sure you’d ever seen a happier child in your life.

“Ferrum, don’t be rude to our guest,” an older man called from the door.

“Sorry grandpa,” she yelled back, before digging into her dirt cup.

“You must be the novitiate. I’m Primo,” he explained and motioned for you to come through the gate. He was, like so many of the men in the abbey, painted vaguely like a skull. Instead of the stuffy vestments, the man wore a velvet dressing gown in a deep crimson, embroidered with flower patterns and filigree in contrasting stitching. It looked far more comfortable than the habits and cassocks everyone else lugged around.

Beyond the stone fence, the grass was still lush and green despite the dreary gray of the winter sky. A large hole sat in the middle of the yard, its displaced soil now operating as Ferrum’s home base as she watched you curiously. The house itself was made up of impossible curves of wood and glass. A heavily stylized art nouveau façade sprouted carved wooden flowers that climbed the home and surrounded the circular windows. The detail was incredible and welcome after a week spent inside the “everything must be gold” abbey. The house flowed in an organic way and while there was an abundance of things to take in, it wasn’t about showing off, it was trying to fit itself into the surroundings.

“Don’t mind Fe,” he whispered once you were close enough to climb the front steps. “It’s the sugar. It’ll wear off by the time she’s a teenager. Maybe.”

“I don’t know. I’d be suspicious of me, too,” you said with a shrug.

“She’s a good kid,” he said with a fond smile. “Now let’s get you inside so we can figure out who you are.”

With a nod, you followed him into the house. Immediately you were hit with a strange sense of nostalgia, as though you had stepped into your own grandparent’s house, but it was slightly off. You almost expected to find yourself in the numerous photos on the walls. Everything was different, yet somehow everything was the same. No matter how hard you looked at them, none of them would be of you or your family, but it didn’t stop you from trying to place where you were supposed to be. As far as you knew, you didn’t grow up with any Ghouls so you wouldn’t be in the sports team pictures or in the background of birthday parties or graduations.

There were several lifetimes worth of memories on the wall, tracing a line from what appeared to be Primo’s early 20s to present day. Primo as a priest, a slightly older cardinal, and Primo in elaborate ceremonial robes holding hands with a beautiful woman. There were several photos of them together, soon to be joined by a baby boy, and as the baby grew there were fewer pictures of the adults. There were school photos in uptight little uniforms and big smiles with missing teeth, and the moments missing between when the boy had somehow turned into a teenager. There were few photos of the boy in this stage and none after that. As the couple aged, other photos appeared featuring little ghouls of various ages, following them from their teen years to adulthood to ghoul-parenthood. There wasn’t a single photo of Primo and the woman where they didn’t look genuinely happy.

“Oh hello,” a soft voice said behind you. “I’m Lucia.”

You turned to find the current version of the woman extending her hand to you. She was undoubtedly the most glamorous woman you’d ever seen. Whatever step there was beyond aging gracefully, this woman had found it and mastered it. Her stark white hair was blown out and shaped into the most beautiful curls that hugged the giant pearl earrings dangling from her dainty ears. Her clothing was impeccable, a smart tailored blouse tucked into a pair of high waisted trousers and topped with a stunning necklace of gems and pearls. You wondered if she’d spent every moment of her life this well put together.

That same fond smile returned to Primo’s face the moment he saw her.

“Would you care for some tea, dear?” she asked warmly before planting a kiss on Primo’s cheek. Her lipstick didn’t even think about smudging.

“Is that code for something?” he teased.

“It’s code for asking the girl if she’d like some tea, you horny old goat.”

Watching them interact, it occurred to you that this was the first actual couple you’d seen around the abbey. There were certainly Siblings and Ghouls you’d spotted together often, but the rings around Primo and Lucia’s fingers were the first of their kind. You had so many other questions that it hadn’t really crossed your mind if people fell in love and got married around here. Satan knows there was probably a ritual about it.

There was a fucking ritual for everything.

Lucia disappeared into the kitchen as Primo led you through the cottage to a conservatory at the back of the house. The room was warm and overflowing with flowers and greenery. Sunlight poured through the glass roof and broke into beams that kissed each perfectly formed leaf and petal. It was clear he treated his plants as tenderly as he had his children, raising them as any proud father would. There were delicate orchids and peonies blooming beautifully, adding to the soft floral aroma of the glass room.

Primo gestured to a set of sofas tucked away in the middle of the room. As the two of you settled across from each other, Lucia slipped in and set tea on the table between you. This time she placed a kiss on the top of her husband’s head before leaving you to discuss your offering in private.

There was something in the way everyone was treating the selection as deeply personal and private. You couldn’t figure out why a couple of flowers was supposed to be such a secret. But then Primo started with the questions. At first, they weren’t particularly invasive. Just the sort of general questions one would find at the beginning of a personality quiz. Innocuous things about your birthday or whether you liked the sea, but the touchy subjects came, and you found yourself squirming in front of a stranger asking difficult questions about your first real love.

It was the details he wanted to know, not about who or when, but the things you’d felt back then. The good and the bad, the pieces of someone who chipped away at who you were until they became part of you. And he asked about every person that had made you feel that way, about the best and worst moments of your life. What was your lowest low and how did that feel? What did you take from that pain? How had you been at your most joyous and did you allow yourself to revel in that feeling? He wasn’t asking for secrets to pocket and hold over your later; he was searching for the most honest answers you could give. It was slightly cathartic to unburden yourself to him, to give up things you didn’t know you still carried and smooth over the scars of the thousands of tiny cuts left by people you might never see again. By the time he got around to asking what Imperator had offered you, there were hot tears spilling from your swollen eyes.

“Knowledge,” you croaked in reply. “She offered me knowledge.”

He seemed surprised by this, a little “ah” sounds escaping him along with a delighted smile. “That is excellent, Sorella. I think we have our answer.”

He shuffled around the conservatory, disappearing into the greenery as he hummed. You could hear him making selections, snipping bits from here and there. He spoke to the plants, gently thanking them as he took flowers from them. It wasn’t long before he returned with a small collection and laid the flowers in front of you.

“The offering is just as much about your past as it is your future, Sorella,” he said gently as he passed you a handkerchief. “It is important that you know how you got here and why you accepted. Did you know that flowers can speak what we cannot? There are general accepted meanings, but just as you and I are different, the flowers can be interpreted as many things.”

“Like tarot cards?”

“Yes! Exactly like tarot cards,” he replied happily. “So, for you, I have white chrysanthemums. In some places they’re used as funeral flowers, but in others they represent purity and truth. I also have some sage, for wisdom. And white roses. They can also represent innocence or purity, but also represent new beginnings.”

You smirked. “That’s a lot of innocence for someone like me.”

He chuckled. “By our standards you are innocent. Like a little dove. Or perhaps a little lamb. Agnellina.”

“That’s what that means?”

“Sì, little lamb. Have you heard this before?”

“Terzo called me that.”

“Ah, you’ve met the Papa? Il mio fratellino does enjoy teasing the novitiates, but you pay him no mind,” he instructed. His delicate old hands worked the flowers and herbs into the wreath weaving the stems through a circle of dried vines. “It is nice to be able to do this again. I have forgotten how much I enjoyed getting to know the Siblings.”

“So, this isn’t customary for you?”

“Once upon a time, yes. But after my retirement a few of the Earth Ghouls took over the flowers for the ceremonies. It was Sister Imperator’s request that I create the offering with you.”

“Why would she do that?”

“To question Sister Imperator’s motivations is to question the entire universe. There is not a soul who knows what she is up to, except her. If I had to guess, she sees you as someone important. They’ve told you how rare it is to be invited, yes?”

You huffed out a sarcastic laugh. “Only every day since I got here. No one will tell me anything more than that.”

“Hmm, you’ll find out soon enough,” he assured you. “The Order is a great many things; you do not need to experience them all at once, agnellina. I have no doubt you will find what you are looking for with us.”

Primo carefully placed the wreath into a black box and dressed it with a simple bow made of white ribbon, sealing it forever. “I believe you had a bright future here, agnellina,” he said as he placed the box in your hands. “Trust in the Order and let the Olde One guide you. Feel free to come visit again.”

The box felt heavier with every step you took toward the abbey. The meeting with Primo and the walk back from his cottage had been exhausting, emotionally and physically. From what you’d been told, your strength was another important piece of the offering, and you were beginning to feel anything but. Maybe you’d be lucky enough to get a nap in before the whole ordeal.

Instead of a delightfully calm and empty room, you found your space occupied by Sister Imperator. Fussing with a gauzy black gown hanging from the door of your wardrobe—one you had not put there, the nun appeared to have made herself at home.

“Oh, good! You’re here,” Sister Imperator said as she turned to you, that tight smile pulling at her lips. “Come on, come on. We should get started.”

“I—uh, what—” you started, but she waved a hand and took the box from you, setting it gently on your bed.

“I’ve come to help you prepare for the offering,” she explained and went back to fluffing the dress.

“Oh, thank you, but I don’t think—”

“Nonsense, dear. I insist. It’s such a special day for you. Now go on,” she said as she ushered you toward the bathroom. “I’ve already drawn you a bath.”

The thought of Imperator going through your things sunk like a stone in your stomach. You still weren’t sure what the woman wanted from you, or why she was positioning herself around you at every chance. It was possible that she cared, maybe a little too much, and didn’t know the proper ways to express it. But it seemed more likely that she was keeping you close until your proved yourself in her eyes. Having Primo prepare your offering, showing up here, it all felt like handholding. There was a sense of special treatment and babying that you didn’t want or need.

But the expression on her face left no room for you to argue.

She had taken it upon herself to search your bathroom and add oils to the bath. The scent of lavender permeated the small space as steam rose from the clawfoot tub. With a roll of your eyes, you began to shed your clothes and climbed into the bath. It was easier than trying to make sense of whatever it was she was trying to do.

You bathed and returned to Imperator as quickly as possible to keep her from storming the bathroom. During your absence, the nun paced as though she was trying to wear a hole though the floor. The rhythmic thud thud thud of her sensible heels carried under the door and did little to relax you. What she had to be so nervous about, you didn’t understand. This was all on you today.

Part of your haste was to prevent Sister Imperator from seeing you completely nude, but as you exited the bathroom your plan fell to pieces. The nun stood there expectantly, holding the gown out to you like it was the most normal thing in the world. To her maybe it was. She held out her arm and helped you step into the dress, her fingers working quickly over the line of buttons on the back. To your surprise, she pulled your desk chair over and had you sit before her as she ran her hands through your hair. She began to twist and braid and pin pieces into place, humming to herself as she worked. It seemed silly to spend all this time and effort on something that was just going to get wet and ruined. But it was the first time Imperator had seemed anything other than stern and if fixing your hair made her happy, who were you to stop her?

She finished with your hair, patting your shoulders as she examined her work. She retrieved the heavy cloak from the wardrobe, draping it around you like a mother dressing a child before placing the box in your hands.

“Perfect,” she said as she examined her work once more. “He will be so pleased.”

Together, you made your way downstairs to the main hall to find Papa Terzo and Mary waiting diligently. Mary tried to mask his expression as Sister Imperator ushered you toward the men, but having spent enough time with him you could tell he was less than pleased. Terzo seemed to be in his own world, hands fidgeting restlessly as you approached.

The four of you formed a slow procession, moving out of the abbey and down the steps as snowflakes began to collect on the dead grass of the grounds. No one spoke as you walked toward the woods, your eyes cast down as you followed behind Terzo. The lake wasn’t as far as Primo’s cottage, but you were already looking forward to resting after this whole thing was over. As you neared the rocky edge, Sister Imperator removed your cloak and patted your hand. Mary gave you a half-smile as encouragement as you slipped out of your shoes.

“Well, is no one going to say anything?” Terzo asked loudly, earning a harsh frown from Imperator. “Whatever. Sorella, I am proud of you. To be performing your offering after being with us for such a short time? It’s impressive. You are impressive.”

“Thank you,” you replied quietly, completely confused by his sentiment.

He nodded once and took your hand, toeing his own shoes off before guiding you to the water. Together, you stepped into the lake, its warm water gently lapping at your ankles. Salt lakes weren’t uncommon, but you’d never heard of one that doubled as a hot spring. It made sense for the Order to build the abbey around something so rare and keep it hidden for themselves like they did so many other things. The rational part of you knew the lake was heated by a crack in the earth’s crust, but another part of you wondered how far down that crack went. Was it just super-heated rock warming that massive amount of water or had the Order unlocked something else for their own needs?

Terzo let go of your hand and you waded out, carrying that little box until you were waist-deep in a warm bath. There was an unnatural stillness to the lake, as though it were lying in wait.

You took a breath, your brain searching for all the right words. “Olde one,” you began as you let the box balance on the surface of the water. “I bring you this offering as a symbol of my intention to honor you. I ask that you allow me to serve you and to strengthen the Order of Asmodeus. Nema.”

With a gentle push, you let the box float into the lake. You watched it for a moment, gently bobbing on the water as it moved away. You were vaguely aware that Terzo had moved next to you, but you couldn’t take your eyes off the box. It drifted farther away, seemingly gaining speed as it approached the middle of the lake. Without warning, it sank beneath the calm surface as though it had become filled with rocks. Or it was pulled.

“That’s a good sign,” Terzo whispered next to you, smiling softly as he looked out at the lake. “Are you ready, agnellina?”

You nod once as he moved closer, wrapping an arm around your waist and placing a hand on your heart.

“Olde One, we ask that you accept this Sibling as she has accepted you. May the salt and water of this cursed lake wash away her old life and old ideals so she may embrace and celebrate sin. Do you wish to live your life according to the laws of the Olde One and the Order of Asmodeus, Sorella?”

“Yes.”

He smiled once more before gently tipping you backward into the water. His hands held you firmly in place as the lake swelled around you and the world began to still. It was peaceful there, with your eyes closed and water pressing against your ears. But that moment of calm was interrupted by something pulling at the fabric of your dress, nearly wrenching you from the safety of Terzo’s hands. Even underwater you could see the panic in his eyes as he wrestled against the force, his grip beginning to bruise your arms. His expression must have matched your own as the water started to sting your nose. Your lungs burned, unprepared for longer than a few seconds underwater, as it pulled and pulled at you. You wrapped your hands around Terzo’s wrists in a silent plea for him to free you as the lake threatened to carry you down.

As quickly as it had held you, the lake let you go. Terzo hauled you up and pulled you into a tight hug as you coughed and sputtered over his shoulder.

“Shh,” he cooed, smoothing his hands over your back before you could even think to react. “Don’t let her see you frightened.”

“What?” There was a desperate crack in your voice as you tried to keep the tears at bay.

“You’ve done so well, Sorella. Let’s complete the offering and get you inside, ok?”

You nodded weakly, still clinging to him as he turned and motioned to Sister Imperator. She stepped forward and presented the dagger to Terzo, never taking her eyes off you. There was a strange expression on her face, a mix of pride and fascination that lit her with a subtle glow against that dreary winter backdrop. Terzo seemed aware of this too, shifting slightly in front of you as she approached and handed him the knife. To her left, Mary had gone pale under his paints.

“We seal this offering together, Olde One,” he began, leveling his eyes with yours. “May our blood sustain you.”

In a quick movement he pricked your finger and then his own. Together, you stretched your hands over the lake, letting the few drops of blood drip into its hungry mouth and swirl away until it was just another part of the water. Terzo dropped a kiss on your hand before leading you back to the shore.

Mary surged forward, nudging past Imperator to quickly throw your cloak around your shoulders. “Are you ok?” he mouthed silently; his eyes still wide with fear. You managed to nod before Sister Imperator forced you apart.

“Excellent job, Sorella. Now, we should get you—” she quickly began.

“Tsk, tsk Sister Imperator,” Terzo chimed in, wagging a finger at her. “You can have the Sorella back when she has completed her confession.”

Her expression hardened. “Of course, Papa.”

“Come, my agnellina. We have much to discuss,” he announced happily and looped his arm around yours.

Back inside, behind the safety of a closed door, you shoved Terzo. Hard.

“What the fuck was that?” you yelled. The tears you’d held back slipped free and you cried for the second time today. “What the fuck just happened?”

“I-I don’t know,” he stammered, surprised by either your force or your words. “I have never seen that happen before. But I do not like what I saw. Are you ok?”

“No. I’m pretty fucking far from ok. Something just tried to drown me.”

“Sorella, I think if that’s what it wanted, it would have succeeded. It was much stronger than me.”

“Wow,” you snapped. “That is not helping.”

“Please, agnellina. There is a robe for you on the chair,” he said as he motioned toward the chair. “You should change out of those wet clothes before you get sick.”

With that, he dipped into the attached bathroom, not bothering to close the door behind him. At the tell-tale sound of a zipper, you spun away from him and reached for the fluffy robe. Quickly, you freed yourself from the increasing weight of the cloak and peeled back the wet layers of the dress. It was a struggle to get enough of the buttons free to slide it past your hips, but you were able to let it slide to the ground and cover yourself before Terzo returned.

His office must have been twice the size of Sister Imperator’s. The black walls were adorned with the abbey’s customary gold highlights, but the tone was warmed by the fire burning in the large fireplace. Marble statues framed the opening of the door, each holding ornate candelabras in a carved hand. There was a throne-like chair upholstered in a deep violet tucked behind a massive desk topped with black marble. It was every bit as over the top as the rest of the building, but it somehow felt slightly more personal. In the same way you could tell Mary inhabited his office, Terzo’s seemed to carry the exact same energy he did.

“How are you feeling, Sorella?” he asked, drawing his own robe tightly around his small waist. “About your baptism?”

“I don’t know. Am I supposed to feel different now?”

He let the question hang for a moment. “Do you feel different?”

“No,” you admitted, staring up at the massive portrait of Terzo over the fireplace.

“Well, that’s good,” he said finally. “We don’t really do that magic miracle thing here.”

“Then why ask?”

“I don’t like to be lied to.”

“Well, in that case I feel fucking angry.”

“I should hope so. Perhaps you will keep that in mind during your confession.” He gestured toward the chairs angled toward the fire. “Please, sit.”

You dutifully followed him, more than happy to warm yourself in front of the fire if it meant feeling anything other than the awful hum of rage in your blood. It crackled and popped, filling the room with the scent of woodsmoke and a slight haze. The orange glow flickered and caught Terzo’s white iris, demanding to be noticed in the dark room. With a sigh, he relaxed into his chair and waited for you to do the same.

“So, you guys start with that bless me father stuff like the Catholics?”

“Satanas, no,” he said with a laugh. “But if I may confess something, this was mostly an excuse to get you away from Sister Imperator. I don’t like the way she looks at you.”

“That makes two of us. Is she always so…?”

“Insufferable? Yes.”

“I was going to say intense,” you corrected with a light laugh. “Maybe self-serving.”

“I wasn’t. Imperator is important around here and she knows it. It makes her quite powerful, but not untouchable. Sometimes she lets her own plans get in the way of what we do here. There’s been more than one occasion where the reigning Papa has had to assert himself to maintain the balance. She thinks I’m too soft.”

“Really?” you asked, surprised. You hadn’t expected him to be so candid, but his honesty made you feel slightly more at ease.

“What is the problem with that? Does my congregation seem unhappy to you?”

“I don’t really know. I guess it depends if they have a choice?”

He frowned, the painted lines of his face exaggerating the crease of it. “Is that what you think of us? No one is trapped here, Sorella. Even you are free to go if that is what you want.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

He scrubbed at his face in frustration, yet somehow the paint stayed where it was placed. “Your mentor Mary holds several degrees, did you know?”

You sheepishly shook your head.

“He and several others have left us many times in search of answers they seek. Just as you can, if that is your wish. You are free to pursue whatever you want through us, agnellina. This isn’t the hell demon sex cult as you said, though I did enjoy the joke. We are an Order dedicated to knowledge. All I want for you, for any of us, is to enjoy that pursuit. Perhaps it is a fault of man to wish for a legacy, but The Order encourages us to channel it in constructive ways. Primo brought the abbey’s horticulture expertise to levels it had never seen. Secondo, a perpetually single man, focused on education and childcare.”

“And you?”

“My aim is to promote wellness within the Order. I wish for the Siblings and Ghouls to exist in a community that continues to care for them, to nurture and support them.”

“That’s—”

“Not what you expected?” he asked with a sly grin.

“That’s not fair; I don’t have any expectations of you. We met exactly one time before this at an orgy. I don’t think that’s a baseline for either of us.”

“Eh, I wouldn’t call that an orgy. It was more of an expression, really.”

“Ok, we met while lots of people were expressing themselves…with their dicks out.”

“Did it bother you, Sorella?” he asked, slightly amused.

“Not at all. What consenting adults do and how they chose to do it is none of my business,” you answered honestly. It was clear he was trying to get you to react, maybe distract you enough until you calmed down, but he was also watching you with a suggestive little smile.

“I’d say that’s a healthy attitude to have around here.”

“I have the same attitude anywhere, Terzo. The only thing that really shocks me about this place is the amount of different ceremonial daggers you guys have. What the fuck do you need so many for?”

He laughed. “In the old days, there were many smiths in the Order. You should have seen the anvils in the storage shed.”

“Uh-huh. And the face paint?”

“The paints are something we earn, same as our titles. They’re symbols of our commitment and devotion to the Olde One. Once they’re earned, it’s hard to let that go.”

“So, you just wake up every day and paint a skull on your face?”

“Is it that different from wearing other makeup?” he asked sarcastically. “Tell me, Sorella. Have you joined the Order just to criticize it?”

“N-no,” you stammered. “Of course not. I just—”

“It’s fine. I am well aware of how strange our customs can be, but I think you will have a better time here if you just embrace them. Have you sinned yet?”

Your mouth opened and closed as you tried to come up with an answer. “Maybe a little.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Only a little? Sorella, who would dare you leave you so unsatisfied?”

“Who said I wasn’t satisfied?”

“Well, if you were in my hands there would be no question.” His tone was beyond suggestive.

“Are you offering?” you countered, letting yourself get carried away by the heat of his gaze. He had angled himself toward you, studying you intently.

“Sorella, my services will always be available to you,” he assured you, placing a hand on your knee. “You need only ask.”

You swallowed hard as he slid from his chair and knelt before you.

“Are you asking, Sorella?” he asked, his mismatched eyes filled with lust. He traced a finger over the top of your thigh, smiling as you squirmed.

You managed a weak nod as you squeezed your legs together, searching for friction as his touch remained too soft.

“You must ask me, Sorella,” he said gently, slipping his hand further up your leg.

“Please,” you whispered.

With a grin, he pushed your robe away and left you exposed in front of his face. He hooked his hands behind your knees and tugged you toward him. Positioning his mouth at your aching center, he licked a wide stripe over your cunt. The moan that left you should have been embarrassing, but any and all thoughts left your head as he latched onto your clit and worked his tongue over you as though he had something to prove. He worked his fingers against your entrance, sliding them through your folds as you grew more and more wet at his touch. You were reduced to thoughtless sounds as he slipped his fingers into you, pumping out a rhythm that matched the flick of his tongue. Your fingers gripped the arm of the chair, fingernails digging in as he brought you closer and closer to the edge. Huffing out the soft chant of “yes, please” you begged him not to stop, but he pulled off anyway. A slick smile formed on his face at your frustration.

“You are lovely,” he said, making a point to lick his lips. He sat back, letting his robe fall open around his hard cock, ghosting his hand over it while your eyes traced the thick line of him. “Come here.”

You moved from the chair to the floor, straddling Terzo’s hips as instructed. He caught your lips with his, kissing you for the first time while his hand worked your robe away from you. He quickly shed his own and brought a hand to your face, pulling you into a deeper kiss. His other hand trailed down, lining his cock against your entrance. With one swift motion he filled you fully, a devilish smile gracing his lips at the surprised sound you made. His hands moved to your hips, guiding you to match the pace he set as he fucked up into you.

There were no soft, sentimental words, just the sounds of skin on skin as the two of you chased pleasure. His paints began to smear as sweat beaded on his forehead from the combination of effort and the fire. As he found that spot inside you, he thrust into it repeatedly, delighting in the way your head fell back as you cried out. It didn’t take long for him to work you back to that edge, but this time he didn’t stop. He held you tightly in place as you came, your body tensing around him until you could barely hold yourself up anymore. Your knees were going to be so bruised in the morning, but as his thrusts began to stutter you couldn’t bring yourself to care. He came with a shout, his cock kicking as he spilled deep inside you.

He fell back on the floor, arms sprawled weakly across the rug as he looked up at you. “Oh, Sorella,” he sighed softly, before continuing in a far more smug tone, “do you feel different now?”

Your arrival at the usual table in the dining hall was met with whoops and whistles from Mary and the Ghouls. It was your first time wearing the habit and while it was a little heavy, it nipped at the waist in such a flattering way you suddenly got it. The tailoring of the uniforms was just as much about sin as anything else the Order did.

Mary jumped up and pulled you over to a chair, quickly placing a small gift box in front of you. “In honor of your baptism and your first mass,” he explained, “the Ghouls and I got you a little something.”

You shook your head and slid your fingers through the single piece of tape holding the box shut. Set inside on a padded velvet display was a rosary cast in rose gold. You looked up at him in surprise. “A rosary?”

“Eh, sort of. The grucifix is a symbol of the Order; they’re all over this fuckin’ place. But this one is just for you, to remind you that you are supposed to be here with us.”

“Aw, Mary likes you,” Dew teased.

“Shut up,” Mary snapped.

“Thank you, Mary. That’s very sweet of you,” you said softly and stood to hug them. As your arms locked around his lanky body, Cardinal Copia swept into the room. You locked eyes with the Cardinal’s, your body frozen around Mary as the older man raised an eyebrow at you. Your chest felt painfully tight as he offered you a playful smile before gliding away.

“Hey, kitten? You can let me go, now.”

“Yep, sorry,” you squeaked and took a step back. “I—uh, I have to go,” you mumbled and spun around, turning right into Sister Imperator. What the fuck was wrong with you?

“Good morning, Sister,” she greeted you curtly. “I trust your first confession went well?”

“Oh, um, yeah. It was nice.” God, you hoped you weren’t blushing.

“Fantastic,” she said flatly. “Come, join me for mass.”

You shot Mary a pleading look that he only returned with a shake of his head. You followed Sister Imperator into the cathedral, all the way up to the first row. She settled on the pew so naturally, crossing her ankles and straightening her spine as she had probably done thousands of times. You sat next to her, unaware of what to do with your hands or if you were supposed to speak to her.

Ten minutes of awkward silence followed before the other Siblings began to file in, their chatter filling the empty room. You really weren’t sure what to expect from today. You’d never even been to a Catholic mass to have something to compare it to. Anything you did know about it was learned from movies and tv, and you heavily doubted The Exorcist was any sort of proper jumping off point. Though, for the Order, maybe it was.

Just before mass began, Cardinal Copia settled into the spot next to you.

There was all sorts of incense and ceremony you didn’t understand, phrases in Latin and altar boys. But it wasn’t all that different from a regular church service, aside from the message. And Terzo’s get up, but he wore that mitre and chasuble with just as much pride as the paint.

His sermon focused on community, hammering home all the things he had told you the night before. As he looked out at the congregation with just as much adoration as he received, it became even more clear how much he lived for this. You didn’t know him well, barely knew him at all, but it was clear he was a passionate man, dedicated to the Order and his title. It was impressive to see someone so sure of what they were doing. You wondered if Sister Imperator and Cardinal Copia felt the same way about their positions, or if Primo had truly missed being around the Siblings. Seeing Terzo lead, made you believe he must have.

“I’d like to take a moment to welcome the new face among us.” Terzo stated, pausing to look directly at you. You could hear the entire congregation shift in their pews and the unmistakable feeling of everyone’s eyes on you took over. “Our novitiate Sorella joins us from the outside. As you know, this is an exceedingly rare gift for us to bestow and I hope you all welcome her warmly. She performed the baptism offering with a grace and wonder we have been lacking here for some time. She has reminded me that we should not take what we have for granted but celebrate it fully as we were always meant to. This is not a place of denial. This is not a place of shame or guilt. This is our home, a home the Order has built and over centuries and we continue to build each day. I encourage each one of you to leave here today and sin wholeheartedly. There are seven ways, but I know which one you fuckers love the most,” he joked. “Sin, Children of the Order, my Siblings of Sin and then sin again. Nema.”

The crowd began to stir and vacate the cathedral, their conversations picking up again as they shuffled out. A Sibling you hadn’t met thankfully pulled Sister Imperator away, distracting her with some ministry matter.

“Sorella,” Copia said softly into your ear. “I was wondering if you’d like to continue our conversation from the other night? Unless you already have plans with Papa?”

You turned to look at him, finding a knowing smirk on his handsome face. “Did he tell you?”

“Dolce, if there’s one thing Papa Emeritus III does well, it’s talk. Though I suppose now you are aware of other things he does well.”

“Ok, look, I had fun the other night, but you don’t get to shame me—”

“Sorella, no. Please do not misunderstand me. I’m more than happy you’ve been having fun. I’m just sorry I wasn’t available.”

“You kind of disappeared, Copia.”

“My apologies, dolce. I’m afraid it’s been a terribly busy week for me. Was I missed?”

“I—uh.”

He offered you a devilish grin. “I’ll let you think about it, Sorella. If you’d like, you can stop by my office later with your answer.”

thanks for your time, love!

#the band ghost fanfiction #ghost band fanfic #terzo x reader #cardinal copia x female reader #my writing

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leftoverenvy · 2 years

Text

Contaminated - Part 5

Summary: Emily and JJ's marriage is in shambles, so Emily turns to an unlikely source of comfort: her student. To add gasoline to the fire, Emily starts an affair. A songfic inspired by Contaminated by BANKS.

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x OC; Prof! Emily x POC OC; Emily Prentiss x Jennifer "JJ" Jareau

Warnings: smut (18+); heavy angst; power dynamic; age gap (unspecified – but all over 18); power imbalance; professor - student; cheating; marital arguing

Word Count: 7k

Tumblr Masterlist | Wattpad

Taglist: @ssa-sapphic 🧸; @reidselle 🦭; @gaelic-symphony 🎻 ; @hotchs-bitch 🦆 ; @multiverse-mxdness 🧌 ; @madelineleong

Part 5

I didn't hear from Liv again that night. I could see that she had read my text message asking her to come back, but she left me hanging all night. And all the next day. I tried to push it from my mind. She just needed a few days to reset. We'd find our way back like we had before.

I thought I'd be able to signal to her in class that I wanted to apologize, that we could be more – it was just a little complicated right now. But when Tuesday came, I scoured the lecture hall for her, and her usual seat was empty. I tried not to let it get me too down. I shouldn't care so much whether a student was in class. But she wasn't just any student. I needed to see with my own eyes that she was okay. Her absence hurt more than the devastation on her face this weekend.

Wednesday, I immersed myself in grading and catching up on sociology journals. I couldn't let myself think about Olivia and what she was feeling. It was maddening that my consistent fling was now just as rocky as my marriage. I chuckled darkly. Hadn't I started an affair to get away from my crumbling marriage?

I sent Liv a text every morning. I didn't want her to feel suffocated, but I also needed her to come back and let me explain myself. It frustrated me that she wouldn't give me the chance. Without Liv, my mind was too loud; without Liv, my bed was too cold.

On Thursday, I watched the doorway of the lecture hall like a hawk. My intense gaze gave some students pause, but I couldn't bring myself to care what they thought of me. I needed to see wildly curly hair and mocha skin – I needed to see brightly twinkling eyes and teasing lips. When the ingress of students had slowed, I directed my eyes up to the clock hanging above the door. The hands had struck the start of the hour; it was time to begin lecturing.

I sighed in disappointment and pulled my notes from my briefcase. This week's lectures felt pointless without Liv staring at me from across the room with her distracting winks and smirks. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I had a duty to the other seventy or so students to be a good lecturer; Liv wasn't my only student.

Without bothering to look up from my notes, I greeted the class and started my lecture. I heard a few students shuffling around, hurriedly pulling computers and notebooks out to take notes. At least I wasn't the only one feeling unprepared for this lecture. I internally rolled my eyes at how dramatic I was being and looked up to face this hall of students waiting for me to dive into today's material.

I stopped breathing. There she was. She must have slipped in while I was taking notes out of my briefcase. Silence filled the lecture hall interrupted only by creaking seats and throats clearing from the awkward tension emanating from the front of the room.

Liv looked miserable. Dark rings surrounded her eyes, and her hair was thrown haphazardly on top of her head. My brows furrowed in confusion. She had walked out. Why did she look so sad?

Throughout the lecture I tried to catch her eye, to apologize with my eyes. But each time we made eye contact, she dropped her gaze to take overly careful notes. Liv went from eye fucking me from across the room one week to averting her eyes any time I remotely looked in her direction today. I was frustrated to be thwarted at every attempt to even look at her. She was hiding from me.

I had hoped to ask her to stay after class, but she left class 2 minutes early. I couldn't stop class to ask her to stay in front of seventy-three other people. I was desperate, but not that desperate. After all, her ignoring me was far nicer than I deserved.

Over the next week, nothing changed. She couldn't stand to look at me, and I couldn't get her to respond to any of my many text messages. Even though I desperately needed to lose myself in her, I backed off. She clearly wanted space, so I'd give that to her.

_ _ _

The following week, I thought I'd lose my mind. I had driven to that spot out in the country where I fucked her in my backseat. I put my favorite sad record on and laid down in the backseat to remember what I had had just a few weeks ago. I always compared her eyes to the night sky. Liv was my star, always shining brightly. Sparkling. Just like everything I touched, she was tarnished and gone.

Though Liv hadn't skipped any more classes, I knew better than to expect to see her sweet smile or lustful eyes. Each afternoon, I started class by passing my eyes sadly over her section to check if she was there. While lecturing, I swept my eyes over her, tracking how she was holding up. Though not as haggard as the first day, she didn't look like herself; she looked about as well as I felt. I tried my best not to stare at only her during class, though I was tempted every day. Even sad, she was achingly beautiful.

Towards the end of lecture, out of the corner of my eye I saw slight movement. I would quickly glance over to Liv – as I always did – and then move on to whoever had raised their hand. My eyes widened in shock to see Liv's hand in the air. She oozed timidity: her shoulders were hunched, her arm half fell as soon as my eyes fell on her. Her lip was caught between her teeth, biting it out of nerves. I considered not calling on her, because to hear her voice again would be to open that wound back up. I had only just gotten used to the idea of not talking to her. But I needed her like an addiction. I dismissed the ludicrous idea of not calling on her as quickly as it had entered my head.

"Yes, Miss Martin?"

"Um." She cleared her throat unnecessarily. "I'm getting hung up on law enforcement's reliance on forensics, especially in anticipation of trial, and what you'd do as a profiler when the forensic evidence isn't matching up with the psychological profile." I leaned against the podium and slid my glasses halfway down my nose to look at her properly. She sounded so fucking sexy speaking to me about forensics and profiling. I could eat her alive.

I found myself back at this familiar crossroads. Our fate, once again, rested in my selfish hands. I felt like a sniper lying in wait, ready for her to step into my crosshairs so I could pull the trigger.

The remaining five minutes of class were sufficient to answer this question in a satisfactory way for a freshman-level course. But that wouldn't get me close to her again. Calculated, like a true hunter, I heard myself answer, "See me in office hours." Her eyes widened with panic. Now it was her decision to make. See me alone, or don't. "Class dismissed."

Students started packing up quickly, happy to be let out early. Meanwhile, Olivia sat frozen in her seat, her mouth hung open just slightly. I shoved my notes back into my briefcase, grabbed my water bottle, and winked at her as I made my way to the exit.

I sat in my office, nerves inexplicably making my palms sweat and my stomach turn. Would she really come? What if she felt cornered into coming just to get her question answered? Had I sacrificed her education just to get closer to her? I had worked myself up so bad I nearly packed up to go home when she poked her head around the corner.

"Professor?" I exhaled in relief.

"Ahh, Liv. Come in, please." I wiped my hands on my pants and gestured for her to have a seat in the chair across from my desk. We stared awkwardly at each other, neither knowing how to break the ice. She sat rigid in her chair, her backpack still clasped tightly in her hands.

"That was a very astute question you asked during class," I noted, figuring a little praise couldn't hurt. She smiled slightly and relaxed into the chair, opening her backpack to pull some papers out.

"Thank you," she said cautiously. This version of Liv was a stark departure from the one that had last entered my office. Just a two weeks ago she had let me eat her out in the very chair she was currently sitting in. The memory made me smirk softly.

I sat back in my chair and looked at her with an eyebrow raised. "That isn't a topic covered in the assigned readings." She didn't offer an explanation, so I further prompted, "So what drove you to inquire about this topic?"

"Well," she said sheepishly, "I actually chose this for my final paper topic…"

"Ahh," I interrupted in understanding.

"I was wondering…" I only looked at her, eyes raking over her chest covered in tight, stretched cotton. She trailed her words as she caught sight of my low gaze, her breath catching in her throat softly.

"Yes?" I asked, amused by how easily I could fluster her.

"Since this isn't a topic covered by our textbook, I was wondering if you could take a look at it before the due date and give some feedback? I don't want to miss something more nuanced about this topic simply because I'm a freshman."

"Why choose it at all then?" I wondered aloud.

A smile teased at the corner of her mouth, and happiness tickled me like a feather. I didn't dare let myself believe we would get back to normal so easily, but that smile hinted at a brighter future than the one I believed I had before she walked into my office. "Perhaps you've noticed that my tastes are more…advanced than my peers." Was she flirting?

Involuntarily, my head tilted slightly as if my growing smile forced it to. "I do believe I've noticed that, Miss Martin." I paused, trying to right the ship. It was strange to be separated from her like this. My desk had never felt like a barrier before. In fact, I had bent her over it countless times before. But today, it felt like a mountain between us. It was a necessary reminder that she needed me to be her professor, not her lover. She had come here for a legitimate, school-related reason – I needed to rein it in.

I motioned for her to hand me the paper. I put my glasses on and flipped through the headings of the paper to get a feel for the direction she went in. It was ambitious for a freshman, and I was excited to read it. "I'll take a look at it this weekend." I quickly grabbed a pen to write myself a note so I didn't forget to edit this for her. "Thank you for being proactive and not waiting until the last minute. You'll get much better feedback this way."

She nodded slowly, not saying anything else. I sat back and looked at her over my glasses, silently gauging whether her school business was finished. She looked so beautiful today. The cotton, green, wrap shirt hugged her chest so deliciously. Though it was usually her habit, I bit at my lip because I longed to sink my teeth into her. But that was off limits, so I settled for staring at her like a lion circling a wounded antelope.

I was itching to ask about us, about where we stood. And all the while, I couldn't stop yearning to taste her. So I stuck the end of the pen in my mouth to chew softly on the cap, wishing I was nibbling on her. This pen would have to do. She shifted her weight, clearly uneasy under my intense stare. Her chest rose and fell heavily; I could hear her steady exhales. I gripped the arms of my desk chair tightly while I continued to stare at her over my glasses. I was about to lose my mind. I wanted her.

She inhaled shakily and said, "I appreciate you taking the time to do that. I know it wasn't marked in the syllabus that you would." I hadn't included it in the syllabus because students never exercised the opportunity anyway. I was, once again, impressed by the type of student she was. "Thank you, Emily." I took the use of my first name as a green light, a signal that it was safe to proceed away from school and talk about us.

I took my glasses off and set them gently on top of her paper. I moved around the desk to sit in the chair next to her. The conversation I wanted to have was not professional, and it would be awkward for her. But I needed to be closer to her.

"Liv," I started. "I'm sorry."

"Em, I-"

"Wait," I interrupted, holding a hand up. I stood up and quietly closed my office door. No curious ears needed to hear this conversation.

"I owe you an apology. You can tell me to fuck off right after, and I won't bring it up again, I won't bring us up again. But I'm sorry. I never meant to string you along like that."

"Okay…" she trailed off, "So where does that leave us?"

"Wherever you want it to leave us."

She looked at me skeptically. "So if I said I wanted nothing to do with you?"

A pang of hurt twisted my stomach. "I'd mark your paper, email it back to you, and never speak to you again."

She grimaced, obviously not thrilled with that idea either. "I don't know if I can go back to how things were."

"What do you want?" I asked.

"You," she whispered, looking down.

I steeled myself to start lying. "You've got me."

"Can you promise me something?" she asked tentatively.

"Anything," I promised. I knew this was dangerous territory. I knew what she was about to ask, and I knew the next things I was about to say would be more lies. But I needed this. This time apart had been hell, and I'd do anything to take it back.

"Be with me," she begged. "Leave your wife and be with me."

I needed to tread these waters carefully. One misstep could be disastrous. Again. "You're so special to me," I whispered, cupping her face.

"Then take me out," she bulldozed, pushing my hand off her face. "I'm tired of being your little secret." I could tell she was getting worked up. I needed her to calm down because I couldn't stand for her to leave again. I'd say whatever to get her to calm down, to believe that I was committed to her. I'd bend the truth to shape a future with her.

I sighed. This was messy. Things with Olivia weren't supposed to be this messy; they were supposed to be fun, easy. "Gimme some time, baby." I grabbed her hand and stroked the skin over her knuckles. "I promise things are over with my wife." She exhaled in relief. "But these things take time."

She looked away, her eyes flooding with tears I knew she'd fight tooth and nail to hold back. "Hey, look at me," I cooed softly. Tears slipped down her perfect face, and I wiped them for her. "I need some trust here. I'm in this with you. I'm not trying to hide you away like a dirty secret. It's just more complicated than how we feel about each other. But you mean more to me than some cheap affair."

"Okay."

My stomach twisted, not at the fact that I lied, but at the ease with which I was able to do so. Before, I had lied by omission or fibbed gently. And now I had looked her straight in the eye and lied – lied about what this was, what it meant to me. But I just needed this a little bit longer. Why start caring now when our entire relationship was built on a foundation of lies?

"I missed you," she admitted.

"I missed you, too, Liv."

"No, Emily. I missed you."

"Yeah?" I smirked and leaned in to kiss her. Like our first, I hovered my mouth over hers, waiting to see if she would pull away. And like our first, she closed the distance and kissed me.

I sighed into her kiss, thankful for her second, second chance. I pushed her back onto her chair and straddled her lap. Her hands quickly untucked my shirt to touch any part of my bare skin that she could. I continued to kiss her, lapping at her mouth relentlessly. I had missed this.

I trailed my lips down her jaw, moving to suck on her earlobe. "Emily please," she begged, panting into my neck.

"Please what?" I smirked.

"Don't tease. It's been too long." I stood up, pulling her with me and pushed her onto my desk. I climbed up to hover over her. "Shirt off, please," she asked, her fingers already pulling at my shirt. I whipped my blazer off and pulled my shirt over my head. She sighed at the feeling of my skin on hers.

I unbuttoned her jeans and pulled them down her hips halfway. We'd have to make this quick; we had already taken off too many clothes for a fuck in a public place, but then she pulled her own shirt off, and I groaned. She was delicious, and I would devour her.

I pushed my hand down her pants, the angle awkward from me not bothering to pull her jeans all the way off. "Fuck me right now," she begged. I pushed a finger between her lips, testing to see how wet she was.

"Jesus," I hissed into her neck. She was soaked.

As I pushed my fingers into her, she started moaning too loudly. I didn't want us to get caught. It had been a close call the first time we fucked in the office, and I didn't want a repeat. "You know the rules, baby. Be quiet." Her mouth latched onto my collarbone. As she got closer and closer, she sucked against my skin harder. It started to get tender, but then I felt her nails dig into my skin, the sharp sting from the new lines down my back distracting me from the sting of my collarbone.

I felt her stop breathing, her muscles coiling tightly. She threw her head back – the soft thud against the wood making me wonder if it hurt – and gripped my shoulders roughly. "God, Em," she whispered. "That was incredible." I pulled my fingers out of her, sucked her wetness off my fingers, and climbed off the desk. I knew from the first time that it would be best not to linger in here with our clothes off.

Once I had quickly dressed, I pulled her down to the edge of the desk and helped her settle back on her feet. I pulled her jeans into place and buttoned them for her. "Come over," I said, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. I wasn't done with her. "Stay the night with me tonight."

"I can't tonight," she pouted. "I promised Kara we'd get dinner."

"Come over after," I tried again, nipping at her earlobe. Into her ear I whispered, "I'll make it worth your while…"

She groaned, hips bucking into mine. "Em, please. I can't cancel again. Tomorrow?"

"Definitely," I agreed. I nipped a final time at her neck as payback for earlier; my collarbone was still a little sore. I helped pull her top over her head, subtly pulling her tight shirt higher than it had been when she had first entered my office.

"Can I text you?" Her nerves from earlier had returned.

"Of course, Liv. Have fun tonight." With a final kiss, she was walking out of my office, a sway in her hips that had been lacking the last week and a half.

_ _ _

I felt so much better after smoothing things over with Liv. I came home a refreshed woman. I hummed to myself as I got ready for bed, smoothing a restorative oil into my hair. I idly wondered if I should stop dying it – the constant dying was badly damaging it. In preparation for tomorrow, I smoothed my favorite lotion over my skin, knowing it would make my skin irresistibly soft. As I stood up from putting lotion on my legs, I yelped in shock at seeing JJ's reflection in the mirror.

"Jesus!" I gasped, a hand flying to my pounding heart. "JJ you scared the crap out of me."

"Sorry. I thought you heard me coming."

"No," I snipped. "I didn't. What are you doing home?"

"I live here," she reminded me. But she hadn't been home in about a month. It hit me that I hadn't seen my wife in a month. How had it taken me this long to realize?

"Right…" I mused. Suddenly, I felt extremely vulnerable naked. I reached for my robe to cover up, sensing a fight as one senses an approaching storm. I saw the clouds darken in her eyes – I saw the moment when she registered the bruise on my collarbone.

Harshly, JJ asked, "You think you can cover that up? You think I didn't already see it?"

"See what?" But I knew what she meant. I had felt the sting from the hot water of my shower on the scratches Liv etched into my back earlier this afternoon. JJ had undoubtedly seen both.

"How long?" she demanded to know. When I didn't respond, she crossed her arms.

"How long what?" My mind was reeling. I wasn't prepared for her to find out this way. I hadn't prepared what I was going to say.

"How long?" she growled out.

I slumped against the counter. This was the reckoning. I had done this, and it was time to face the consequences. "The first time? Or when we really started the affair?"

"Does it matter?!" she asked incredulously. I winced because no, no it didn't.

"Since December," I whispered, head down.

She chuckled humorlessly. "God, Em! I" - she paused and shook her head in disbelief - "I can't believe you!"

I couldn't respond. I couldn't believe it either. I had known it was wrong from the start; I had no idea how I ended up here. I put my head in my hand, my middle finger and thumb at the corners of my eyes trying to keep the tears at bay. I had never been more frustrated with myself.

"Her or me."

I snapped my head up. "What?" I hissed.

She issued her ultimatum again: "Her or me, Emily. This can't keep going on. You made a promise to me."

I laughed in her face. "A promise?" I repeated. "What about your promise to me, JJ? You don't think I've known about Will since December?" She blanched, her eyes wide and darting back and forth between mine.

"I knew you were snooping through my phone!" she diverted.

"Are you kidding me? You're mad about me finding out you were cheating because I saw your text messages?"

"So you just decided to throw away a year of marriage because I made a mistake?"

Rage coiled inside of me. "'A year of marriage?'" I asked in disbelief. "JJ, we were together two years before that! I'm not 'throwing away' anything."

"You cheated," she pointed out again.

"So did you!" I screamed back. I was fed up with her double standard. It didn't escape my notice either that every time she referred to Will, it was a "mistake," but I was cheating. She had started this; I was incensed by the injustice.

"And that makes it okay?"

I deflated, moving into our bedroom to sit on the edge of the bed. No. Nothing excused this. "We aren't okay, Jayje," I whispered.

She sighed and sat next to me on the bed. "I know." I grabbed her hand, finally finding that anchor I had been looking for all those months ago. It was reassuring to hear her acknowledge something was wrong. It made me feel better to hear that it wasn't all in my head.

"I'm sorry." I choked on emotion. She didn't say anything. "Can we fix this? Are we too far gone?"

"I told you: her or me. I need to know she isn't important to you. You made a promise to me, a vow," she reminded again. I looked down to our hands clasped together, the gold and silver of our wedding bands gleaming in the dim light. That thin ring of metal could have been a two-ton sheet of steel for how it felt pressing against me. It was a painful reminder I had broken our most sacred vow – it didn't matter that she broke it first. I fucked up.

"I'll break it off, JJ. Tomorrow. I promise."

"Okay."

I waited a few seconds for her assurance that she would break things off with Will. Nothing came. "Jayje?"

"What?"

"…Are you going to break things off with Will?"

"Of course," she said through clenched teeth. "I don't want to do it over the phone. So I will next time I see him."

I nodded, getting lost in thought. It all felt so daunting. How did one go about fixing a marriage in shambles? I couldn't remember how we had built something from nothing. How could we build upon a foundation of rubble? Wouldn't we always be cracked? "We can do this, right JJ?"

"Right," she agreed. But she sounded about as sure as I felt.

_ _ _

Of course I did not look forward to telling Liv this was over. It was made even worse by the fact that just over 24 hours ago I had told her that she meant more to me than a fling. There was no reason to lie to her like that, but I had. This would be the last straw. She'd never forgive me for this one.

I sat in my car, idling in the driveway, my hand resting on the gear shift. I couldn't make myself put it into gear to go pick up Liv. My phone buzzed on my lap, the message scrolling across the screen on my dash: "I'm outside. No rush" I sighed and put the car in reverse and headed out. I couldn't keep putting this off. JJ had left for a case and would fly out to Will after the case to end things with him. I had to do this for JJ, for us. I owed it to JJ to try. We had both promised to leave the affairs behind and move forward together. That's what marriage meant.

When I pulled up in front of Liv's dorm, she slid in with a radiant smile and her usual, cheerful, "Hi!" Her sweet innocence shattered my heart. I had wanted to ruin her, but not like this. I never wanted to shatter her completely. "What's wrong?" It felt like salt in the wound to know that she could read me so well.

"We have to end this." Like ripping off a Band-Aid, it'd be better to be quick and direct. She inhaled sharply but said nothing. I didn't know how much I should tell her – how much she would want to know – so I just left it at that. I would let her process as long as she needed.

"Why?" she whispered in horror.

"This isn't appropriate." It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't entirely truthful either.

"Don't." The anger in her voice startled me. She was always so gentle. "Don't you lie to me Emily Prentiss. Not after what you promised yesterday."

"I'm sorry," I told her honestly. "I never meant for this to get so messy." She scoffed.

Neither of us said anything for a few minutes; the smooth hum of the engine and her shaky exhales were the only sounds in the car. "Why? What happened to change everything in a day?"

"JJ came home," I admitted, "My wife," I corrected. I realized I never told her JJ's name. "And we're going to try to work through this."

"Does she know? Does she know about me?"

"Yes."

"God!" she exclaimed in frustration, wiping harshly at the fresh tears on her face. "What about me, Em? Don't sit there and tell me you don't want this too."

"She's my wife, Liv." Surely she could understand that that meant something, that I couldn't just throw that away lightly. "I'm really sorry about yesterday. I didn't mean to mislead you."

"Oh no! How could I have possibly been misled by 'I promise things are over with my wife?'" She paused for a millisecond and continued, "Oh, and let's not forget 'You're special to me; you mean more to me than some cheap affair.'"

Each of my own words thrown back at me felt like a slap in the face. "I'll never be able to tell you how sorry I am."

"Then don't do this, Emily," she begged. "We have something here. You just have to let me in."

"I can't. I have to do this, Liv. I made her a promise." I winced, waiting for her sharp words.

Softly, defeated, "You made me a promise too, Em." Somehow her resigned, broken voice hurt me more than her anger.

I rested my elbow on the center console and put my head in my hand. "I know, baby. I'm so sorry."

"Is that all you're going to say? It doesn't matter how sorry you are, Emily. It hurts that you're choosing her over me."

"I have to try," I whispered. For the first time, I looked into her eyes. Those deep, chocolate eyes I loved so much. "I'm sorry, Olivia. I have to at least try to make things work with my wife."

"You swore it was over. Just yesterday, you swore it was over." The tears streamed down her face in earnest now.

"I thought it was," I said genuinely, but if I were her, I wouldn't believe me. I had told her too many lies by this point.

"What changed? Was it because I didn't come over last night?"

"No!" I rushed out. I didn't want her thinking this was her fault. She was such an angel, so innocent thinking this was on her. "JJ came home last night, and we fought. That's not new," I said as an afterthought, "But she found out about you, and we both agreed to try to move past this, to work on us."

"And your mind is made up?" No. I still wasn't convinced that JJ and I could move past this, but it wouldn't help Olivia move on to know that.

One final time, I lied. "Yes."

_ _ _

Seeing Olivia in class was awkward. I didn't know where to look while I was lecturing. I couldn't stare at her, no matter how badly I wanted to. And lord did I want to. She looked delicious wearing my favorite skirt. It was the same skirt that had nearly ended my new career.

She strutted down the aisle after class, her endless legs on full display. That skirt was indecent. Because she was walking towards me, she was swaying her hips enticingly. She knew exactly what she was doing. If I had been a better woman, I wouldn't have let it get to me.

"Professor? I have a question…" She bit her lip and looked at me through heavy, flirty lashes.

"Unfortunately," I said packing up my bag, "I am in a rush. Could you come up for office hours?" The only rush I was in was to get her alone.

"Of course. That's a great suggestion, Professor." Her emphasis sent a shiver up my spine. "I'll meet you up there," she said with a wink. And then she turned on her heel and sauntered back up the aisle out of the classroom. My palms itched to spank her.

I raced across campus and took the stairs up to my office two at a time. I beat Liv to my office, but I kept my door closed. I didn't want anyone thinking they were welcome. I texted her to just come in when she got here. Five minutes later, when I was about to text her again, she slipped in my office, closing the door behind her softly.

I didn't bother greeting her. "You're in trouble."

"Why?!" I stood up and crossed around the desk to grab her. I pulled her close and captured her lips in a steamy kiss. I sucked harshly at her lip while I kneaded her hip.

"This skirt," I said tugging on it lightly, "Is inappropriate for class."

She smirked, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Last time I checked, Professor, there was no dress code at Georgetown University."

"You were woefully misinformed, my dear." I spun her around and pushed her front to my desk, bending her over. "You see," I continued, backing away to get a better look at her. "This skirt barely covers your ass." I ran my fingers up her thighs, teasing her over her thong.

"I didn't know there was a sociology department uniform."

I flipped her skirt up, revealing her round ass to me. I nearly moaned. "I didn't know students got to talk back so brazenly to their professors." I spanked her softly – I didn't need echoing slaps to draw anyone's attention to my office. "My my, the code of conduct has really relaxed since I was a university student."

She pushed her hips back, looking for more. "Perhaps the standards in New Haven are different than here in DC." The corner of my mouth turned up into a half-smile realizing she had googled my resumé.

"Perhaps they are," I mused. I pushed her thong to the side and traced a finger up her wet slit. Leaning down, covering her body with my own, I whispered, "Don't you dare make a sound. Do you understand?"

"I'll try," she whimpered.

I spanked her again, this time a little harder. The loud slap made me wince. I hoped these office walls were thick. "You'd be wise to listen this time, Liv." I pushed my fingers in her slowly. I kissed along her ear and commanded, "Don't get us caught, baby." And then I started moving my fingers.

She whimpered quietly, pressing her face down into my hard, wooden desk. Her arms reached up to grip the edge of the desk, her fingers turning lighter from gripping so hard. "Em!" she gasped softly.

After several minutes of driving into her, I felt her tensing. "Come on baby," I coaxed, my other hand moving around to touch her clit. "Cum for me." She whimpered again, and I shushed her.

"It's no fair when you talk to me like that," she panted. "How am I supposed to stay quiet when you do that?"

I smiled in pride, my ego loving that she was at my mercy. "Try harder." And then I curled my fingers how she liked and bit at her shoulder.

"Fuck!"

"Shh," I warned, "You don't want anyone to walk in here, now do you?"

"No," she moaned. "Please, don't stop."

"Then be quiet for me. You can cum if you're quiet, baby."

She clawed at the wooden desk, crumpling papers in her desperate hands. "Em, god! I'm so close!" And then she went silent, her muscles clenching around my fingers rapidly.

I slowed my fingers to let her come down from her high. She stood up, fixed her thong and skirt, and then sat on my desk in front of me. I slid her legs open so I could step closer. I tilted her chin up with my clean hand and then slid my fingers in her mouth. If she could get my fingers all wet, she could clean them up. She moaned around my fingers, her eyes closing as she sucked harder.

I wrenched my fingers out of her mouth and kissed her hard. I poked my tongue in her mouth to get a taste of her; I would never get enough of her.

She pulled back. "If this is what I get when I'm in trouble, maybe I should get in trouble more often."

I moved out of her embrace to sit in my office chair, smoothing out the papers she had creased. She flopped back into the chair across from my desk, and asked, "Can we-" A knock interrupted her question.

Both of our eyes widened. I cleared my throat and pushed things back into place on my desk while Liv smoothed her hair down. "Come in," I called.

"Emily I- Oh!" Another department professor stopped. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were meeting with someone."

"Private conversation," I responded, hoping he'd leave quickly.

"I'll come back later," he said confused, looking back and forth between us. But when he left, he didn't close the door behind him all the way.

"That was close," Liv whispered. I nodded, incapable of saying anything else. That had been incredibly stupid; we could have gotten caught so easily. If he had knocked just two minutes before… "I better head out," Liv interrupted my spiral.

"I don't want to see that skirt again," I said icily.

"Ever?" she asked, a knowing gleam in her eye.

"At school," I amended, and she smirked. "Come over later tonight," I told her. I wasn't asking.

"Bossy," she teased, but smiled, nodded, and walked out of the office.

That skirt had nearly gotten me fired. She knew just how little self-control I had when she wore that skirt. I knew exactly what she was doing. Unfortunately, knowing what she was doing didn't seem to change anything. The entire class period, I remembered what it had been like to bend her over my desk and fuck her raw. For the entire class period, I reminded myself that she was off limits. I had toyed with her enough.

_ _ _

Things were more awkward at home than they were in the classroom. JJ was making an effort to be home more, which I appreciated. But something was still off. Kissing JJ felt wrong. Her lips were too thin, her waist too bony. Her hair was too straight, and her eyes too blue. It was wrong to hold it against JJ for not being the woman I wanted. After all, I should have wanted my wife. But I didn't.

Every time we tried to kiss, it was clumsy. Her lips no longer felt like home. Hers weren't the hands I wanted grasping my biceps. I hated how loudly she breathed while I was fucking her. I resented how she didn't hold her breath when she was about to cum. I tried desperately to push Liv from my mind, but the harder I tried not to think about her, the more frequently she'd pop up. The only time JJ and I tried to reconnect, I nearly moaned "Olivia."

It wasn't working. JJ and I fought just as much as we had before, only now I had no outlet to release that frustration. We had all the same fights we had had months ago; nothing had changed. There wasn't some magic resolution now that we had both committed to fixing this. I was starting to think there was no fixing this. She didn't seem as committed as I was to making sure we would still be together. At this rate, I wasn't sure we would even make it six more months, but at least I could say I had tried everything to fix our marriage.

I spent two weeks confused why we were still so hostile towards each other; I spent two weeks missing Olivia's body. It took two weeks to understand why JJ and I would never work this out.

I had tried to rush out of the house that morning, recognizing I was going to be late to my first lecture. Leaving lunch behind, I planned to return home later in the afternoon. But when I did come back, I heard muffled noises from upstairs. I had thought JJ would be at Quantico, so I went upstairs to check it out only to find a man pounding into my wife.

I stood in the doorway, a disbelieving laugh leaving my mouth inadvertently. Will whipped around and JJ pulled the covers up to cover herself as if I hadn't also seen her naked body.

"Get. Out." I growled out to Will.

JJ started to protest, "You don't have to-"

"She'll call you later. Now get the fuck out of my house." He hurriedly pulled his jeans over his legs and rushed out of the room, his shirt still clutched in his hand.

"I can't believe you!" JJ said, ripping her own shirt over her head.

"ME?!" I stood before her, my mouth dropped in incredulity. "I guess those promises we made to each other didn't mean anything after all, did they?" Without giving her a chance to respond, I walked out of the room and out of the house.

I hurriedly sent an email to my class rosters that afternoon classes were cancelled, and that I was sorry for the short notice. I needed to see Liv, but I had burned that bridge. I longed to go home, but JJ and I had burned us to the ground. I had nothing to go home to. I'd tried to have it all, and in the process, I'd lost everything. I had lost JJ to a man whom I could never live up to. I had lost Liv to my own selfish need to feel anything other than the pain JJ inflicted. And I had lost myself along the way.

I couldn't fathom how I ended up here. I no longer recognized who I had become. But a recurring, familiar feeling crept over me. I was utterly and completely alone.

_ _ _

Continue to next part

#🌬 fics #contaminated series #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x oc #jemily #anti jemily #Emily x JJ #emily prentiss x jennifer jareau #emily prentiss fanfiction #emily prentiss smut #angst #criminal minds angst #emily prentiss angst #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #wlw writing #Song fics #Contaminated by BANKS #Cheating fics

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emp-blast · 1 year

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If it takes your mind off of your rough day, it was 22°f this morning, peaked at 91°f in the afternoon, and this weekend and early next week we’re gonna get isolated thunderstorms (just once I’d like to be in a SUPERcell thunderstorm), which means there’s going to be tornadoes! Oh yeah, and we’ve been under a red flag warning for 3 weeks now.

The weather here is wildly dramatic, but that’s all normal weather for here. 😂

Oh my??? That's some crazy weather, anon. I really enjoy thunderstorms but tornadoes scare me.

I've been having a similar experience to crazy weather ever since I've moved a few months a go. Where I currently live, it goes from being nice and sunny to sudden heavy rain in under an hour. It's so weird and I often times find myself unprepared when I'm out and about.

This one time an acquaintance invited me out to go hiking and it was perfectly warm when we left. But once we arrived it started hailing like crazy. We ended the hike early, but the funny thing was that it had stopped hailing once we were on our way back home.

#mailbox #ty for the ask :]#hopefully when summer comes along the weather will regulate a bit more

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alexblakeisgay · 8 months

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Wait for the Signal (Ch. 2)

Ship: Alex Blake/Emily Prentiss

Summary: It’s been twenty-three years since anyone has seen a zombie.

Warnings: Canon-Typical Violence

Word Count: 1025

There's little playground out back of the hotel where most of the colony's residents live. It's not much of a playground – just a slide, a few swings, and a see-saw – but it's enough for the colony's lone child. At least for now. Maybe they'll add to it, as the Aquene Generation grows. (They're on track for three births that year.)

It's around that small playground that most of the colony has gathered to celebrate Jenna's birthday.

Jenna, of course, being one, couldn't care less that people were gathered on her behalf. She was too busy gumming strawberries and toddling across the lawn (an overachiever, she was walking before she was eleven months old); her favourite game was to be chased, all the while squealing with glee.

"It's a nice feeling, isn't it?" Jack said, settling beside Henry on one of the tree stumps around the fire pit and passing him a chipped mug full of mead.

"Hmm?" Henry hummed a note of question in reply as he accepted the mug and took a swig from it.

Jack nodded in the direction of the playground where Emily was pushing Jenna on one of the swings, both of them smiling with a brilliance that almost almost made one forget that their world was but a shadow of what it had been only scant decades ago... "This," he added, "Our children will get to play outside. They'll skin their knees on the sidewalk, playing tag, instead of running for their lives. They'll get to be kids..." He didn't add, 'the way we didn't'...he didn't have to, as they were both thinking it.

The thing about growing up in the midst of the zombie apocalypse was that memories of your formative years were inevitably full of terror and uncertainty. They'd been lucky, of course, that the people in their lives were perhaps better equipped to endure such an apocalypse than most. That didn't mean there was any less fear, though...

"When is Lily due?" Henry asked, changing the subject. He glanced towards where Lily and her twin sister, Chloe, were helping Garcia prepare lunch.

"Six weeks," Jack said, following his glance with a soft smile. Quickly, his expression flickered over to anxiety.

Henry nodded sagely. "Scared?" he asked, as if he'd missed the flash of fear on his face.

"Shitless," he replied with a dry little laugh.

Henry nodded again – he remembered all too well that feeling of being so wildly unprepared for whatever came next, in completely uncharted waters as he became a father in the midst of a zombie apocalypse without either of his parents to guide him.

"Well?" Jack prompted, gently elbowing him in the ribs. "Got any wisdom for me?"

He barked out a laugh, not because anything was particularly funny but because the situation itself was decidedly not funny... "It really does take a village," he said after a moment of thought. "Now moreso."

Henry, probably better than anyone in the colony, knew just how important it was to have the support of others to survive. One after another, the important people in his life had passed away – as was wont to happen in a zombie apocalypse – so his whole life had been reliant on the kindness of others.

"I don't think I could have gotten this far if it weren't for Emily and Alex," he added. Tessa, Jenna's mother, had passed away in childbirth and since then, Henry had relied heavily on Emily and Alex to help care for the baby.

"Say, where is Alex?" Jack asked, apparently only just noticing that she hadn't joined the festivities.

Then, as if right on cue, Alex came stomping into the midst of the party, growling, "Emily Elizabeth Prentiss! How could you not tell me!?" Everything about her posture made it clear that she was furious; she wasn't normally one to be incandescent with rage, but something had clearly changed that...

Bringing the swing to a stop, but keeping Jenna between them like a human shield, Emily asked, "Could you be more specific?" She didn't make it a habit, per se, to keep secrets from Alex, so she had a feeling she knew what had her so riled up, but she wasn't going to come right out and say it on the off chance she was wrong.

"Is Derek right? Are you planning to go on some wild goose chase hunt for the so-called 'Murphy'!?"

Emily's expression turned to a glower and she glanced about in search of Derek, but he was nowhere to be found. Turning back to Alex, she held her hands up in supplication and began apologizing, "I can explain..."

"Are you going after The Murphy?" she demanded a second time.

"Maybe..." she admitted in a mumble, shrugging her shoulders up near her ears sheepishly. "But I can explain," she insisted once again.

Raising a brow, Alex dared, "Go ahead, convince me."

Emily glanced about, feeling everyone's eyes on them – partly because they were, in fact, making a scene, but partly because every Alpha in attendance could no doubt smell that Alex was in heat. "Can we talk about this in private?" she urged.

"What's The Murphy?" Henry asked, interrupting the silently murderous glares Alex was directing at Emily and the silently apologetic glances she was returning.

For some time now, there had been rumours of The Murphy on the ham radio transmissions they were receiving. According to the stories, The Murphy was immune to zombism...which, if it were true, would make him the key to finding a cure and ending this nightmarish existence.

Emily explained that to Henry, following which, his eyes lit up. "You're going to find him? Can I come?"

"Henry!" Alex scolded, "You have a child! You cannot risk making her an orphan by going on this snipe hunt!"

"Sorry," he said, shrinking in on himself. She was right, of course. He'd just gotten caught up in the excitement that came with the idea of returning to some kind of normalcy...

Turning to Emily, Alex continued, "No one should be going. It's just an urban legend. There's no such thing as The Murphy."

#criminal minds #emily prentiss #alex blake #mine #fanfiction #alex blake/emily prentis

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mylifeonprivate · 1 year

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07.05.22

I’m going to start journaling again. I did it on an app on my phone the other day but Tumblr is just easier for the handoff capability between my phone and my laptop. I’ll copy here the brief summary of the events that have transpired over the six months after Andrew and I broke up.

“Where did that leave me? I was absolutely devastated. I gave my virginity to this guy, shared so much of myself, introduced him to my family as the guy I’d marry, and now I’m all alone. I never felt more alone. I felt a certain kind of “alone” during the relationship but this post-break up state of being alone made being alive the most exhausting thing I could think of.

I started using the dating apps. It was nerve-wracking but weirdly entertaining. It got me out of the house for sure. At first I was hesitant and shy, and mainly just talked to guys, but I started going on dates in June. I really wanted another boyfriend so I was trying to be meticulous about my choices. By the end of the month, I was already kind of fatigued with the dating game. Having the same conversations over and over took the fun out of it.

I went on a date with Joseph during the first week of July but I was so in my head about it that I didn’t give it the credit it deserved. He really was the only one I felt like I could speak honestly about the dating lifestyle with. Probably part of me thought that merely having that conversation made him not into me. Either way, my dad got his cancer diagnosis the week after that.

Joseph and I fell out of contact and I went on other dates. I almost slept with a guy named Andrew. He made me watch two horrible horror movies before trying to get me to spend the night. I regret going on that date but I’m so glad I didn’t sleep with him.

Joseph snapped me again after a little while and I asked if we could go on another date. We had said we would hang out on Sunday but he forgot, and offered to hang out with me that following Thursday. It was the best date I’d ever gone on. We talked so long at dinner that we almost missed the movie. I enjoyed the movie so much, and made a move in the theater. We made out in his truck afterwards and I asked if he’d let me stay over. We went to his place and had sex, after which he told me he wasn’t really looking for a girlfriend. That was a blow. I’ll never forget that feeling. I’d just given myself to a guy again and this time was instantly punished for it. At that point, I said fuck it and slept with the next three guys that I vibed with. Joseph and I were hanging out and having sex, but I never forgot that he’d said he didn’t want a girlfriend. So I continued seeing the other guys too. I looped in my friends at work. They all had their opinions and comments. I was just living it up, I told them, having my hot girl summer.

At the beginning of September, Joseph blindsided me by asking me to be his girlfriend. Of course, I said yes. He was clearly the favorite and everyone at work knew that too. It was too good an opportunity to pass up, despite how wildly unready I was. I was in no state of mind to be a girlfriend. So painfully unprepared, I slept with two more guys in that next week. Why did I sleep with them, when I knew Joseph was the one I wanted? There’s a million possible reasons. I didn’t trust Joseph with my feelings, and I wanted to hurt him before he hurt me. I was running on pure impulse. I didn’t want to cancel the plans I already had with the others in case something went wrong with my relationship Joseph. There’s no good answer. I cheated on him. TWICE. He found out that I’d seen someone else about two weeks later after we had sex on the day I got my IUD placed. I’d never had anyone yelling at me like he did that night. He called me a whore and made me feel disgusting for seeing other people while I was seeing him. And after going through my phone, he found out I went on a date after us becoming official. He pushed me out of the way, left my place after I chased him out, but we stayed together after that.

Every now and then he’d get angry about that. He found out about how I’d woken up naked on the couch after hanging out with a friend from high school. Then finally in December, before we were going to the Trail of Lights, he found out about the second date I went on. He really lost it then. He hit me for the first time.

We were already planning on taking a trip to Boston to spend Christmas with his family. He was so distraught over the idea of breaking up before this trip that instead he decided to relapse to cope with his emotions. So he was actively relapsing and physically abusing me when we went on this trip.”

He admitted one of those nights when he was really drunk that he’d slept with a few transgender women. I wanted to thank him for being vulnerable so I admitted that I slept with a guy in that first week we were dating and I went on two other dates.

It was supposed to be a really special time but it was completely overshadowed by the fact that I’d been hiding so many details and lying and gaslighting him over and over again. He’d be very vulnerable and honest with me about it and I’d still lie because I couldn’t afford to feel the way I felt before him and after Andrew. But the fact is, I never processed that breakup and all I was doing was hurting him and myself by letting that shit just sit and rot within me. I would tell him I knew this fact, but still kept lying. This was coupled by the fact that he was verbally, emotionally, and physically abusing me and I was traumatized, which made me want to come clean even less than I already did.

He went out with his friends in March and got drunk and high and ended up in a strip club. He had told me his battery was dying even though I knew it was a lie. He messaged me from his friends instagram telling me to come get him from the strip club. I’ve never been to a fucking strip club. We went in and he paid for me to get a dance and then for us to get a dance as a couple. He said he’d slept with two strippers and I got really uncomfortable and we left. That night he kept doing coke and went through my phone and found out about the other guy I slept with during the first week of our relationship. More abuse came from that.

He went to detox following that episode and decided that he really wanted to be with me and that we could work on this.

A week later at the beginning of April, shit blew up again after we went to the movies, but he got appendicitis and I had to take care of him.

A week after THAT, he started drinking again. His birthday was ruined because we were fighting. I came home after he’d kicked me out and really broke it down that I knew I needed to put in more work. He seemed to have a change of heart after that conversation and really tried to focus on getting better. We even got a dog.

A month later, he relapsed while on work trips and had a horrible episode at the beginning of May related to some texts I had deleted from my coworker. He started drinking that Sunday morning and continued into the evening. He told me to take the dog out and snuck out of the house to go get cocaine. I tracked his location going back and forth between strip clubs. I called him and he said he was dealing and wouldn’t be back until late. He came home at 11 and told me he loved me. He had blood on his shirt and told me he’d had a gun at his head twice that night.

A day or two after that, he said it’d probably be best for him to go back to rehab. I told him I would fully support that. His mom helped us out and I dropped him off that Wednesday. We wouldn’t be able to talk or text so we started writing letters. Since he decided to go in, he was really positive and has been that way even through the last month that he’s been home.

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sagau-fruit-bowl · 2 years

Text

CHAPTER TWENTY YOU LOVEABLE READERS!

Sorry for the bad chapter, I've been real busy all week.

The Guide is a SAGAU story where instead of being the Creator of Teyvat, [Name] is a player who is seen as a God.

Masterlist

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Previously, [Name] made a remarkably foolish decision and marched into battle with Kaeya and Razor at their side, yet decided to tackle a Hilichurl head on. After the monster camp had been defeated, they laid down to rest while Jean, Diluc, Razor, Kaeya, Aether and Paimon all planned their route back to Mondstadt.

[Name] raised an eyebrow before laying down gently onto the rock below them. "If you plan on getting me back to Mondstadt within the next hour, you'll have to carry me somehow. I am not walking any further."

Aether shook his head. "I'll handle it. Trust me, My Guide.. you'll be home soon."

The thought of a teleport waypoint entered their mind as they closed their eyes. Whatever, the group could use whatever methods they wanted, right now [Name]'s head hurt and they wanted a nap.

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All things considered, Bennett had been having a pretty good day. He took on his commissions first thing in the morning and yet he had finished them before the usual length of time it took for him to complete each task.

Sure there had been quite a few storms, yeah the chests he found were empty, there were definitely more Hilichurls than estimated and it was absolutely nothing like adventuring with The Guide, but he was safe and his commissions were complete.

The road back to Mondstadt from Stormbearer Point was long but nothing he wasn't unprepared for, he's made this trip plenty and had fun each time, talking to different travelers along the road.

It was around 2:30 in the afternoon when he arrived near the city, he had distracted himself with humming a strange tune he couldn't recall the source of, at least, he did until the noticed the waypoint begin to glow.

A smile crept onto his face as he completely dropped anything on his mind and watched in anticipation as blue forms began to take shape, at least until he realized it was indeed 'forms'. Plural, as in, more than one. His head tilted to the side in curiosity as he watched, now awaiting whatever he would see with the upmost excitement.

It didn't take long for each blue shape to solidify and he grinned at the sight of each of them.

Jean stood to the far left of it all, her blonde hair a bit frazzled but all in all, she looked as intimidating and impressive as ever. To her right, the ever familiar Traveler and his excitable companion looked closely around Kaeya's shoulder who was holding an individual that Bennett didn't recognize, Diluc also stood oddly close to Kaeya and seemed rather fidgety for a guy who was known for being so put together. Last but definitely not least was the person Bennett was most excited to see, Razor. His normally matted and tangled hair had been soothed and a cut ran long his left arm from his pinky to his upper arm, likely Hilichurl in origin.

After taking in each individual, he allowed himself to focus on the stranger. They seemed to be unconscious somehow, asleep or knocked out, he really wasn't sure but he knew for a fact that they were passed out with their head on Kaeya' shoulder.

The next thing he noticed were their injuries, and a the servant of The Guide, he had to at least try to help.

He walked in their direction quickly, his left hand waving wildly out of a mix of excitement and worry for this stranger. "HEY GUYS!"

Razor was the first one to respond, raising a finger to his lips to make a sign for quiet as he approached the other teenager.

Aether was the first one to speak up, "Gentle please, Their Grace is asleep."

That phrase caused Bennett to stop in his tracks and for his eyes to latch onto the sleeping figure in the knight's arms. "E-Excuse me?"

Razor nodded. "Guide had long day. Need rest."

Bennett's eyes light up in such a bright way that it put his vision to shame as he stared at [Name]. "Guide… Their Grace has come to Teyvat?" He spoke gently, almost scared of his own words.

Jean smiled gently at the sight of the teenager being so careful. "Yes. They arrived yesterday afternoon, but I suppose you must have been out of town."

Diluc huffed. "You had to have been. Everybody in town won't stop talking about it, which is appropriate and the least they deserve."

A murmur of agreement spread throughout each one before Bennett brought back the topic at hand. "Can.. Can I get a closer look?"

Aether shook his head. "Wait until they're awake, they'd be more than happy to entertain you." "Heh. Much to their own detriment." Paimon chimed in, knowing none of them would disagree.

The pout the teenager gave tempted the Traveler to give in but a glance at his god's sleeping face solidified his resolve and once more he signaled a no.

Bennett didn't let the denial get to him though, a smile never falling off his face as he turned away from Kaeya and [Name] within his grip and focusing on the Traveler himself.

"Where are you guys going?" And Jean took the liberty to respond. "We're heading to the cathedral. The first thing we need is Their Grace to be healed and then perhaps once they're throughly awake then we can return to Dawn Winery so Their Grace can rest." Jean didn't speak all of her thoughts but she acknowledged a meeting amongst the Knights would be in order once [Name] had been settled in at the Winery.

Bennett couldn't resist asking a simple question that sent shudders of worry down Jean's spine. "Can I join you?". The Acting Grandmaster winced and prepared a lie to placate the boy when Paimon interrupted her.

"Of course! After all, They'll want to see their main team after all!"

Kaeya let out a soft chuckle, causing [Name] to shift in his grip and burrow their face further into his arms. "We've got three out of four. Who knows, maybe Xingqiu will stop by for some books from Marjorie and we'll have the whole team together."

Kaeya gently resumed his walk back towards the bridge to the city, walking as softly as he could as not to disrupt [Name]'s sleep, meanwhile speaking with both teenagers of what quote en quote 'Team Building exercises' they should do together.

Paimon, Aether and Diluc followed close behind as Jean stood in contemplation for a few moments. Kaeya had a point, Xingqiu could show up at any time, Xiao had a tendency to engage in unpredictable visitation hours at the insistence of a rather stubborn bard, Thoma could make a surprise visit back to his home country, Hell, The Fatui could get word and that red headed Harbinger Kaeya claims Their Grace is so fond of could appear. Very little kept [Name] within their borders. Perhaps Mondstadt would be wise to cease all travelers from entering the city or at least the area surrounding Dawn Winery. Repercussions be damned, Their Grace would thank them and protect them in the end.

○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●

Not a huge fan of this chapter but Oh well. Needed to get this out, I promise the next one will be both longer and better.

Tag list! (Closed for the foreseeable future.)

Also, if y'all have suggestions on interactions you wanna see people have with [Name] then please do let me know. I'm always happy to talk Guide!AU.

Feel free to like, reblog, leave a comment, send in an ask or DM me or even just scroll on by if it makes you feel more comfortable.

@chihawari @samuelftm @mizuistrying @karylles-world @isaywhatiwant @multifandomvoyage @sayomiikaye @peacesong02 @chie-san @magica-ren @willburzone @harmonbrooke @sadlonelybagel @well-excuse-me-player @rizakari @eccedentesiast-sapphic @nasidibakar @yue-caelum @irisxiel @detectivexheizou @ello-its-me-ya-boi @nin3ss @uh-kay-shuh @campanula-rotundifolia @whispereons

#genshin x reader #sagau #genshin impact x reader #sagau cult au #genshin self aware au #genshin impact x you #genshin sagau #genshin impact #genshin impact sagau #genshin

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k-evans-reads · 3 years

Text

Plus One

A Higher Love One Shot

Summary: Chris and Nickie share a quiet moment together, in the aftermath of a crazy few days.

Pairing: Chris Evans x OFC Nickie Morrison

By: @k-evans-writes and @ourfinest-hour

We do NOT give permission for our works to be reuploaded, translated, or reposted on any other site. Our work is our own.

Word Count: 1,337

Warnings: None.

Previous l Writing Masterlist l Higher Love Masterlist | Extensions Masterlist

November 21st, 2021

8 months married

Chris reached into the laundry basket, pulling the dirty laundry out and throwing them into the washing machine as he yawned loudly, reaching blindly for the gentle detergent and pouring it over the clothes before he turned the washing machine on. He took a moment to stretch, relishing in the near-silence of the house, something that had been rare for the last week, before he yawned again, reaching for the basket of clean onesies as he turned towards the hall and shut the door to the laundry room behind him.

As he stepped into the small living room off their kitchen, his eyes quickly found the swaddled baby in the bassinet near the couch. He always felt like his heart skipped a beat when he saw that tiny little boy, his whole heart completely captivated by the baby he’d only known for a week but who he’d been anticipating for so long. Chris felt like he was melting each and every time he looked at that baby, at their baby, their Tyler Harrison Evans. They’d spent most of the week in bed with him, bonding and doing skin to skin- which they’d quickly learned was Ty’s favorite thing, next to eating- and getting to hear him put his lungs to the test when he was displeased, which seemed to be about forty percent of their time together so far. But they were doing it, despite feeling wildly unprepared and ready, and they were learning how to do it together. Chris had run to flip the wash while Nickie was going to lay down for a nap, having just gotten Ty to settle as well, but when he took his eyes off of the sleeping baby to look at his wife, who had said she’d be sleeping, Chris wasn’t happy.

She was sitting on the floor, her hair pulled back in a ponytail that was half falling out, one of Chris’ old shirts on her that had a stain of god knows what on it, and bags underneath her brown eyes. Chris leaned his hip against the doorway, looking down at her and stated quietly, “You’re supposed to be sleeping.”

Her eyes didn’t move off of the baby, her breath catching as she whispered, “I know but-”

“No buts, I said I was going to watch him,” he murmured, placing the laundry basket down gently on the rug. He walked over towards Nickie, sitting down next to her. “You really need to get some sleep, honey.”

“Chris… I just love him,” Nickie breathed, tears spilling down her cheeks freely and silently as she watched him as he slept. He understood why she was doing this, he’d spent many nights laying in their bed or sitting in the rocking chair, just holding Ty as he slept contently in his arms. He didn’t know how he and Nic both were fine with it ever just being the two of them, how they ever lived without this newborn. He was everything to them, from the tiny rolls on his arms, to the soft brown hair on his head, to the blue eyes, and long lashes. Chris was secretly hoping that Ty’s eyes would darken to Nickie’s brown, but he knew she was hoping for the opposite. So far, her desire for a mini-Chris had come true, from both Ty’s long frame to his desire to be around Nickie almost constantly. “I just don’t understand how I love him so much.”

“I know sweetheart,” he agreed, feeling his own heart clench at the mere thought of Tyler. He couldn’t imagine how Nickie felt, being the one to have created him, and now feeling all these emotions while still very hormonal and recovering.

She sniffled quietly, rubbing her eyes furtively. “How the hell am I going to be a mom? How can I possibly do this?”

“Well if you don’t get any sleep then it’s going to be really fuckin’ hard,” he retorted, grinning when she rolled her eyes immediately.

“You’re still a brat, you know that?”

“Yep,” he agreed, kissing the top of her head softly. “But you’re already an incredible mom. Seeing you bring our baby into this world and how you’ve cared for him already proves how ready you are for this.”

“I just love him. Even though all he does right now is cry, poop and sleep, I adore him so much,” she said as a fond smile crossed her face, her finger lightly tracing the crown of his head, feeling the soft and thin hair covering it.

“Me too,” Chris whispered, watching Nickie’s finger travel over Ty. “Look at those squishy little cheeks.”

“He always gets that one arm out of his swaddle, I just tucked it back in while you were doing laundry,” she said as the fond smile remained on her face, looking at the pudgy arm on Ty’s stomach. “He likes to put his arm on his stomach like you do when you sleep.”

Chris kissed Nickie’s cheek this time before he gently moved Ty’s arm back into his Star Wars swaddle so it’d stay warm, chuckling quietly as Ty’s brows furrowed and he groaned in his sleep. Across the room, Dodger picked his head up and watched them for a moment before he settled down again, while Obi, who was sleeping on the other side of the bassinet, didn’t even move. “Ma is so obsessed with that picture you sent yesterday of Ty and I sleeping next to each other in the same sleeping position.”

“I got my wish of having a mini you,” Nickie grinned, leaning back and finally turning to look at Chris.

He laughed quietly again before he shook his head, confessing, “Not sure if that’s a good thing or not.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s a great thing,” Nickie smiled before she smirked, “Although he’s already loud like you are and his screaming is pretty intense.”

“At least he’s been eating well so that keeps him happy for a while. He’s like his mom in that way, give him a snack and he’s happy,” Chris chuckled, remembering the immediate screams if they didn’t instantly feed Ty as soon as he was hungry. There wasn’t a doubt that he was their kid with a set of lungs like that.

Nickie settled into Chris’ side, his arm draping across her shoulders as they leaned on the couch cushions behind them. Tilting her head to the side and looking through the mesh side of the bassinet, she whispered, “He’s still mostly all you. I couldn’t believe seeing those baby pictures of you compared to Ty. You two really are twins.”

“Nah, this little guy is way cuter.”

“Yeah, you’re right, I made a good one.”

“Hey, I helped a little bit too,” Chris laughed, looking down at the wild mess of Nickie’s hair as she shook with silent laughter.

“I guess, but I did all the hard work. All you had to do was fuck me,” she muttered, Chris having to stop himself before he could laugh loudly, not wanting to risk waking up the baby.

“And deal with your insane pregnancy hormones,” he muttered good-naturedly, pausing before he sarcastically added, “Well I guess it wasn’t that different than normal though.”

She looked up at him as her jaw dropped. “I pushed a baby out of my body. A huge baby, I might add. Your nine pound baby! You are not allowed to make fun of me right now, not until I’m healed,” she said, jamming a finger into his chest as a playful glimmer in her eyes, which had been missing for the last week of pure recovery, learning, and exhaustion.

“Fair enough,” Chris agreed, a soft smile on his face as his eyes danced between Ty and Nickie.

“He was worth it though,” Nickie sighed easily, leaning her head against his chest again as she gently placed her hand over Ty’s stomach, feeling him breathe deeply. “I love this precious little guy.”

“Our little Ty Ty,” Chris agreed softly, kissing Nickie’s head again.

A/N: We can't wait for you to read more about Ty Ty! He's been named now for almost two years which is CRAZY! His middle name comes from the Morrison family's tradition of actor middle names (Nickie's is Bette after Bette Davis and Jordan's is Grace after Grace Kelly!), so he is named by two Star War fans after Harrison Ford!

We love this kid so much and cannot wait to share more about him & the Evans family's craziness!

#higher love #chris evans writing #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fic #chris evans x ofc #chris evans #chris evans x oc #chris evans x original female character #chris evans story #original female character #cevans

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tomurasprincess · 4 years

Text

Kinktober Day 22: Zombie (Voracious)

Day 22: Zombie Title: Voracious Word Count: 2.6k Warnings: Noncon, necrophilia (cause zombie), predator/prey, biting, marking, blood play, yandere Note: Thank you so much to @thewheezingwyvern who is always down to help me without batting an eye when I go “so, zombie plague...what are some good symptoms? And yes, the zombie is going to fuck you.” Also, for the love of everything that is unholy, please mind the warnings. Do not read the fic and come to me to tell me how disgusting it was. Trust me, I know. :)

Kinktober Masterlist

The country of Japan is dead. Or at least close enough that the distinction doesn’t matter.

Several months ago, an aggressive virus leaked from a quirk research facility and spread through the population like wildfire. Nobody was informed about what was going on, and nobody was warned when the virus first began to hit the cities. Officials kept it as quiet as possible, hoping to contain the spread before it got out of control. And before anyone knew how big of a mistake they had made.

But it was far too late for any sort of containment. The virus already spread fast in a lab environment, and it was even faster as it tore through an unprepared population.

The first sign of contracting the virus is tiredness and body aches. The infected simply thought they caught a minor illness, and they continued their business as usual, expecting it to go away on its own. But as the virus continues to spread through their body, the tissues start to die and they develop intense fevers and headaches. By the time the infection makes its way to the brain, confusion and outright delirium has begun to occur.

The infected are wild by this point, feral to the point of attacking, biting, and eating the uninfected. The ones who were bitten and survived had the site of their wound swell and turn agonizing to the touch, and they would suffer the same progression as the other infected.

The final stage is always the same though. Once the black rot of plague starts appearing on your skin and spreading like the branches of a tree, it’s too late.

The worst part is that the infected still have use of their quirks, and the devastation has been immense. Super powered heroes and villains with their minds rotting and decaying from infection, losing the ability to distinguish friend from foe. In some areas, the casualties were even worse from fighting than they were from the virus itself.

Somehow, you have managed to keep yourself alive and stay away from the worst in-fighting and the areas with the highest concentration of infected. Still though, it is a surprise to you. You’re simply a quirkless nobody with no way to defend yourself.

You have seen so many better, stronger people die right in front of you, leaving you forced to continue on alone.

You sigh as you scavenge through an old building that was once a store, looking for more supplies. Yours are dangerously low, and your dry mouth and grumbling stomach tells you that you need to find something quickly, before you become too weak to continue on.

You practically jump out of your skin when you hear the banging of items hitting the ground from deeper within the store. It might be survivors, or it might be the infected. The thought briefly occurs to you that you need to check to make sure, but you quickly shake it away.

Survivors or not, you didn’t come this far by being careless. But as you inch quietly towards the exit, you see a flash of red eyes from within the darkness as something emerges.

No, not something. Someone.

One of the infected.

It’s clear that he’s in the late stages of infection, the black rot spreading out through his body, but most notably his left leg which he drags limply. He’s wearing what are essentially black rags that flow out from behind him, leaving his chest bare so that you can see more of the black spiderwebs of rot twining outwards.

His eyes zoom in on you, narrowing slightly as you stand there frozen in fear. Neither of you moves for what feels like hours, but is really mere seconds. You break out of your trance first, turning on your heel and running for the door. The infected pursues you instantly, jumping over a table rather than running around it to save time. The move is a sign of intelligence that instantly fills you with dread. By this stage, the infected are usually too confused and delirious to remember such things.

You make it to the door with him hot on your heels. You’ve always considered yourself a fast runner, especially lately, but this is an entirely different story. He’s fast, too fast. The infected are not supposed to be like this, especially not with a bad leg. But yet he is quickly catching up to you as you dart through streets you know so well.

You realize that your only chance is to lose him somehow, as you’re never going to be able to outrun him. Your breath is coming in harsh pants already, a stitch burning in your side as you make a sharp, desperate right turn into an alleyway.

An alleyway with a dead end.

This area was clear just a week ago, but now it looks like an infected hero or villain used their quirk to collapse both buildings in the area, causing massive chunks of cement and debris to block the road out. There is no way to climb over the rubble and no handholds or stairs to use to climb up the buildings. You’re completely trapped.

You whirl around quickly, hoping to get out before the infected catches up with you. But you’re too late. He’s already standing at the entrance of the alley, staring you down with heated red eyes. A sharp burst of awareness fills you as you realize exactly who this is. The leader of the League of Villains, Shigaraki Tomura, whose whereabouts have been speculated on for weeks along with the rest of his villain group.

No wonder he’s so fast and so dangerous. The infected retain some level of awareness and ability from the time before, and Shigaraki was one of the most deadly villains in the country.

And if the way he’s acting towards you is any indication, he still is.

You take a step back. He takes a step forward. Another step back. Another step forward. You scan through your chances of getting out of this alive and uninfected, but your mind comes up with nothing.

Your back hits a wall abruptly, and in your split second distraction, the infected is on you. You’re pulled roughly to the ground, hands barely breaking your fall as you land on your front. This is it, you think to yourself, I’m about to be eaten. All this time of running away, of watching people you care about die, all for nothing.

You can’t stop yourself from trembling as you try to brace for the pain of being devoured. But instead, he leans down and buries his face into your neck, sniffing the skin deeply as he pushes your body further onto the ground. His hips are bucking against the curve of your ass, and with dawning horror, you realize exactly what the hard bulge in his pants is.

He grabs your pants and you watch as decay overtakes them and dissolves them into ash. He decays your shirt and bra next, leaving you bare from the waist up and shivering from the cold of his body pressed against you. You’re too scared to move, too scared to do anything.

But when he reaches for your panties, that’s when your paralysis finally breaks and fear takes over. You try to lift yourself up from the ground to run, only to hear a snarl as teeth sink into the flesh of your neck.

You go limp with a choked sob, losing any and all desire to try and get away. It’s all over now. That one single moment has doomed you to infection and madness. The pain of the bite is nothing compared to the despair you feel.

He lets out a pleased hum at your sudden obedience, pulling your panties aside as you feel something cold and hard prodding at your entrance. You barely have time to comprehend what’s happening before your pussy is filled with one sharp thrust of the creature’s hips. The infected aren’t supposed to do this, aren’t supposed to have these urges, you think wildly to yourself. This can’t be happening, it’s not possible.. But it is happening. You’re being taken by this creature like a wild animal in a back alley.

And then he is moving, hips slapping against your ass as his throbbing length pounds into you. There is no gentleness, no precision, just deep, feral thrusts that have you unwillingly clenching. He’s thicker than you’re used to, and the pain of your muscles stretching around him causes you to whine from the back of your throat.

This shouldn’t feel good. You should be horrified, disgusted. You should be fighting tooth and nail to get away, even though it’s hopeless since you’re already infected. But the cold of his cock pressing against your warm walls has your head spinning from the contrast.

He hits a soft, spongy spot inside of you, and you let out a squeal as your stomach tightens. The teeth are removed from your neck, only to bite down in another spot on the other side. He ruthlessly breaks skin, causing blood to run down your front and drip onto the pavement below.

Your body feels like it’s on fire, everything so overly sensitive as his cock forces your walls to stretch open even further as he gets rougher. The hands gripping your hips feel warmer than they were before, fingers digging hard enough into your skin to create bruises. The grunts and groans leaving his throat are positively lewd, and he takes his mouth away only to bite down in between your shoulder blades.

Your scream echoes through the alley as the teeth penetrate flesh, his tongue lapping at the bite and taking deep swallows of your blood. You try to imagine yourself somewhere else, anywhere else so that you don’t think of the pressure building up inside of you and the pain from the throbbing bites now decorating you.

Your nails dig hard into the cement below you as you try to ground yourself and ignore what’s happening, but Shigaraki doesn’t seem to appreciate that at all. He smacks his hand hard against your ass, keeping his pinky raised delicately off your skin in a way that has you worried about his level of awareness.

Now that your attention is firmly back on him, he bites the back of your neck, and you can’t stop the howl that leaves your throat when you feel your skin break, or the orgasm that wracks your body as you feel blood trail down the column of your neck and down in between your breasts.

Tears run down your face as humiliation burns through you, the shame of cumming around this infected villain’s cock almost too much to bear. Almost worse than the fact that you’ll soon be just like him.

“M-m-m - “

Your eyes widen as you glance behind you, seeing the infected concentrating hard as he tries to get words out. He’s stopped thrusting, as if he’s trying to focus entirely on whatever he wants to say. As he opens his mouth, you see his teeth stained with your blood and the sight shoots straight to your core.

“M-m-mine,” he finally manages to stutter out, “mine.” He forces your head down onto the pavement as he begins to ruthlessly pound into you. The infected don’t speak, they’re not supposed to speak -

“Mine,” he snarls, almost as if he heard your thoughts and is trying to prove you wrong.

You’re oversensitive and wet from your previous orgasm, allowing him to fuck you deeply, hitting your cervix with every thrust. You can feel your pussy dripping your juices all over his cock, and the wet squelching noises that fill the alleyway has you shaking with embarrassment.

“Mine, mine mine,” he chants as he bites again and again, each time pausing long enough to take gulps of your blood. Your head is spinning, lightheadedness from blood loss overtaking you. The ground below you has puddles of your own blood where it drips down, and you briefly think that maybe you really will be eaten right here and now instead of being infected and left to wander.

His hand comes in between your bodies to stroke tight circles against your swollen clit as he chuckles deeply into your ear. “Mine,” he whispers darkly. “Why else would I stumble across the cure for the plague if you weren’t meant to be mine?”

Cure for the plague? That’s not possible, there’s no cure for the plague, and you’re completely quirkless -

He bites down one last time, sinking his teeth into the back of your neck and holding you there like a dog refusing to let go of a bone. You realize why immediately when he groans into your heated skin, warmth spreading through your core as he shoots hot ropes of cum directly against your cervix. The pain of his teeth buried into your flesh has you thrown over the edge as well, legs trembling and eyes rolling into the back of your head.

He removes his teeth from your neck once he’s emptied himself inside of you, letting you go as you collapse onto the ground. You roll over enough to meet his eyes, seeing sharp intelligence and contemplation. The black rot is quickly disappearing, color returning to his skin. Within no time at all, you can no longer tell he was ever infected.

“How - I don’t - I’m quirkless - “

“No, you’re not.” He states it matter of factly, as if it was already known. “You have a quirk, it just didn’t have a purpose until the plague. Your blood carries the cure.”

You consider everything that happened, realizing that the more blood he drank, the more human he seemed. The faster the infection was being cured. He snorts at the look of disbelief and then understanding on your face. “With you on my side, I can remake society exactly the way that I want.”

“I am not on your fucking side! You’re a villain who just - “ You can’t even bring yourself to finish the sentence, but Shigaraki has no issues doing it for you.

“A villain who just fucked you and got you off? Such a dirty girl, getting off around infected cock.”

Your face heats up and you instantly glance away, drawing another chuckle from his throat. “I won’t help you,” you say stubbornly, ignoring his previous words.

“Who said I was giving you a choice?” His fingers dig into your arm as he pulls you off the ground. “You belong to me now, and I’m going to do whatever the fuck I want with you. Just think about the power I have now. I control who stays infected and who gets cured. No more hero society.” His voice has taken on an excited, almost manic tone as he considers the possibilities.

“Are you - are you going to let them do what you just did?” You whisper quietly, a single tear running down your face at being used the same way by other people.

He instantly scowls at you. “Of course not.”

You perk up just a bit, until you hear his next words.

“I’ll let you be a blood bag, but for everything else - you’re mine. And I don’t like to share.” He begins to drag you back the way that you came, walking with purpose.

“Now come along. We have so much work to do.”

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

Kinktober: @ichor-and-symbiosis, @thewheezingwyvern, @vixen-scribbles, @katsukisprincess, @hisoknen, @trafalgar-temptress, @leeswritingworld, @burnedbyshoto, @bakugotrashpanda, @dee-madwriter, @kittycatkrissa, @reinawritesbnha, @yanderart, @dabilove27, @fae-father, @anxietyplusultra, @flutterfalla, @angmarwitch, @nereida19, @babayaga67, @fromsunnywithlove, @dabis-kitten, @bakugos-cumsock, @yumeneji, @the-grimm-writer, @iwaizumi-chan, @slashersheart, @bunnyywritings, @bakarinnie, @angie-1306, @emplosion22, @lalalemon101, @videogameboiwhowins, @f4nficbaby, @tenkoshimmy, @baroque-baby, @bbyspiiice, @thirstyforthem2dmen, @blissfulignorance2000, @bluecookies02-main

#kinktober 2020 #shigaraki x reader #tomura shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki smut #shigaraki #mha x reader #mha smut #yandere mha #bnha x reader #bnha smut #yandere bnha #bnha kinktober #mha kinktober #tw: noncon #tw: necro #tw: blood play

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spacecasewriter13 · 2 years

Text

When the Lights Go On Again by @spacecasewriter13

Story Summary: It is May of 1946, over a year after his fall from the Hydra train and losing his left arm, and James "Bucky" Barnes is struggling to adjust. Working as an analyst at the New York City SSR branch, Bucky tries to put the war and all of its sorted memories behind him. However, try as he might he is plagued by thoughts of Magdalene "Maggie" Ramirez, a Women's Army Corps (WAC) Corporal he met in London and hasn't spoken to since before his fall in January of 1945. Little does he know that Maggie, in her struggle to put the war behind her, has moved to the city and looking for a job with the New York Bell Telephone Company as a switchboard operator. Now, by sheer dumb luck, they are reunited as they both fight come to terms with what they were to one another during the war, and work to figure out how to move forward in a world that was unprepared to deal with the consequences of war in the unsteady peace.

Chapter 10: A Chance for Understanding

Chapter Summary: Bucky and Maggie return to the library for one more conversation, this time with more favorable results.

Excerpt:

The work week was quiet and, unfortunately, seemed to drag on forever.

Maggie knew she ought to be grateful—glad even for the reprieve and the pleasant and comfortable descent into mundanity.

Yet, it felt like a curse of sorts as she struggled, fighting tooth and nail to decide what she wanted out of her next conversation with James Barnes. How was she supposed to balance what Daniel had told her with her own emotions on the matter? Yes, there were incredible depths that she hadn’t even considered regarding James, his amputation, and how he might be dealing with these changes. However, there was also the fact that he had hurt her. How exactly she was supposed to reconcile the two was beyond her.

She found she vacillated wildly at any given moment. Sometimes, at her most vindictive and cruel, she wanted him to grovel and beg for her forgiveness. At other moments, usually late at night, she imagined falling back into step as though nothing had happened, as though this was January 1945.

Neither was realistic, and neither touched on the truth of the thing. They had both approached their last conversation from two very different contexts. Both parties were in pain and dealing with things badly and were likely to continue on this way until they had an honest conversation.

Above all, Maggie knew that she didn’t want just an apology. ‘Sorry’ could only go so far. Instead, she wanted him to acknowledge that what he had done had hurt her—even if he had done so for somewhat understandable reasons. And she wanted a fuller explanation of those reasons, their circumstances, and everything that had brought them to that horrible confrontation on the steps last Saturday.

Eventually, Saturday came. Maggie rose before her alarm, dressed, styled her hair, applied makeup, ate breakfast, and was just cleaning up when Daniel emerged from his bedroom still wearing PJs and a sleepy expression.

“You off?” He asked as he appeared in the kitchen doorway.

“I am.” She nodded.

“Should I wish you luck?” Daniel continued as he rubbed at his face with his free hand, trying to get the sleep out of his eyes as he surveyed her.

“I’m not sure.”

“You know what you’re after?”

Maggie paused, tapping her chin with mock thoughtfulness. “Well, I suppose—I suppose I hope not to want to punch his lights out at the end of this conversation. Nor do I want to come home and put any silly ideas in your head about sending me back to Taunton.”

Daniel’s expression constricted, contorting a moment somewhere between concern and regret. “I’m not—” He began.

“I know. I know, Daniel,” Maggie interjected, unwilling to torture her brother any more than just a moment. “But I’m never going to let you forget that.”

He sighed, nodding gravely. “I understand.”

“And now to answer your question with a real answer.” She paused, contemplating her words a moment before continuing slowly. “I just want to find a way forward, whatever that might mean now.”

Daniel nodded, “Well. I’m here if you need backup.”

“I appreciate that. There is coffee on the stove. I will see you this afternoon.”

“Roger that.”

Maggie smiled. Collecting her things and giving Daniel a quick hug, she swept from the apartment and started off to the library.

It always felt like a journey—an adventure, like she was on a secret quest. Silly—she knew, but she did enjoy the anonymity of the big city, better than the small town paradigm of everyone knowing you and your business. Ironically, had all of this played out in Taunton—well, that was just the thing, it wouldn’t have.

Maggie got off at the Bryant Park Station and made the short walk across the lawn to the front steps of the public library. She stopped at the foot of the stairs, her heart racing as she found that the steps were empty.

To Continue Reading Please Visit Ao3

#bucky barnes #mcu #captain america #winter soldier #1940s mcu #fanfic #new chapter up!#Daniel Sousa

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songbirdsingingthings · 4 years

Text

Polka-dotted Bandages

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of these characters, they belong to Kohei Horikoshi

MHA Masterlist - Main Masterlist

WARNINGS: Mentions of injury, the tiniest bit of angst, and fluff galore <3

Requested by @luluwiie :

"There is no limit in the number of requests", you said? Welllll... then can I request ? 😳❤ if the answer is yes: can I request a slow burn / pining Todoroki x Reader Oneshot ? 😶👉👈 Like, when they train together, Reader got into the habit of always taking care of his scratches and wounds, which at first confused Todoroki, cause Recovery girl is there for this, right ? But with time he got used and even grew attached to this little habit of ours. And one day, for some reason, Reader ends up badly injured (in a fight, against vilains? Idk), and he rushes to the hospital and is like sooo worried.. and when Reader wakes up they find like some band-aids on their little scratches, just like the ones they often use for him ? And we get to see their reunion Ajajdusdj TYSM if you do it 😳❤

A/N: I LITERALLY FELL IN LOVE WITH THIS REQUEST.... which is why I had to rewrite it like twenty times before I was finally satisfied with how it turned out lol. I really hope you enjoy and thank you so much for the request! <3

Word Count: 2.2K

Ever since the age of five when his quirk made itself known to him, the world, and most unfortunately his father, little nicks and cuts were always a common thing to find all over his body. To this day, however careful Shouto was in training, they were ordinary occurrences. It wasn’t like he was careless, far from it in fact, he just got a little… distracted sometimes. How could he not when you were training right across from him? Your skill and poise were originally the traits that drew him in to hoping for a friendship with you. Those paired with your optimistic personality and effortless smile captured his attention completely. So, when he accidentally grazed his leg against a piece of metal that was jutting out haphazardly, he was unprepared for your attention to be on him.

“Shouto, are you okay? That looks like it really hurts,” you huff, out of breath from the last set of crunches you had just completed. The red-and-white haired boy looked in between you and his now bleeding cut with a somewhat blank stare.

“Oh… yes I think I’m fine,” He answered awkwardly, assessing the wound and slowly moving his hand to cover it. That is, until your hand caught his wrist.

“Wait, your hands aren’t clean!” You exclaim as you dig through your bag with the hand that wasn’t currently occupied. “Here, I have some disinfectant in my bag.” Shouto watches as you pull the little bottle of antiseptic out of your bag as well as some cotton balls and a little box of bandages. You douse one of the cotton balls with some disinfectant, accidentally spilling a little on your hands in the process, and hold it right in front of his cut. “Do you mind?” You ask, making sure Shouto was okay with your movements.

“No, go ahead,” He manages, keeping his composure but feeling his heart skip a bit. You flash him a grin before placing one of your hands on his leg to steady yourself.

“This might sting a bit, but it goes away pretty quickly,” you explain, slowly pressing the cotton ball to his wound. You made sure to clean the dirt and grime away quickly, your gentle and dexterous fingers going around the edges of the cut.

“Y/N?” Shouto’s voice was somewhat jarring in the comfortable silence you two had, causing your gaze to snap up to his.

“I’m not hurting you, am I?” You asked hurriedly, your eyes filled with concern. He shook his head, allowing you a breath of relief before turning your attention back on his wound.

“I’m just curious as to why you are doing this, since we have Recovery Girl on call all day. I’m sure it would be no issue for her,” He asked as you disposed of the now slightly bloody cotton ball and digged around in the box to pull out a blue and white polka-dotted bandage.

“Well I didn’t want you to accidentally infect it,” you begin, smoothing the bandage across the cut, “plus, it's nice to do things like this for a friend, don’t you think?” You smile, satisfied that the coverage of the polka dots fit perfectly over the damaged skin. Your eyes finally go back up to Shouto, whose hand was held out to you. You take it as he helps you stand from your crouched position on the floor. Shouto smiled at the little notion and fell into a comfortable pace with you as the both of you walked back towards the direction of the dorms. Over time, Shouto began to like the little habit the two of you developed - he liked it quite a lot. Not ever had he been touched in such a caring and tender manner, and when it was coming from you… it was pure solace that he felt. And, gradually, as the two of you fell into a comfortable friendship - with more than a few lingering glances on his part - he felt that finally he was at a time in his life where he found someone that could understand him completely.

Buildings were leveled, the streets had craters in them, and your breathing was uneven. Of course, when Class 1A was on a day trip into the city, villains had decided to take action. The day was going too perfectly, you guessed. It really only was once in a while that the teachers would let you have a long day off to go shopping or enjoy the city life. Due to this incident, though, you’re pretty sure that they’ll be revoking those privileges as soon as the class steps their feet back on UA property. If you were lucky, maybe you wouldn’t be confined in the big dorm building for a week due to safety concerns.

“H/N, you take the guy on the left, I’ll take the annoying one in the middle!” You heard your classmate, Mina, shout to you. The pink-haired girl was currently fighting off a criminal with a nasty quirk - blood manipulation, as long as they were in some physical pain themself. That was probably why the guy was intentionally biting down on his tongue.

“You’ve got it!” You yell back, launching yourself into the fray and readying your quirk to attack. With the villain set straight on in front of you, you let your eyes zero in on them, everything besides them becoming a blur. That was why, when the enemy that was fighting Mina set their sights on you, you were unable to react quick enough.

Shouto was, more or less, beginning to panic. Everyone was accounted for… everyone except for you. That’s when he caught sight of a familiar pink-haired girl crouching down with tears leaking from her eyes.

“Ashido, have you seen Y/N?” He asked exasperatedly, beginning to grow frustrated with the lack of information involving the Y/H/C haired girl. This only caused Mina to sob more, her pitiful gaze finally looking up into Shouto’s.

“Th-they hit me with their quirk and it made the wind get knocked out of me,” she hiccuped, wiping underneath her eyes to try and rid the moisture from her cheeks. “They hurt Y/N really, really badly.” As soon as those words left her lips, Shouto felt his entire body grow cold. It wasn’t like the cold he used to regulate his body temperature when he used too much of his left side. This was a chill that encompassed his body as a whole, making him feel hollow. As Mina’s words grew more jumbled, Shouto felt his breathing go shallow and his hands beginning to tremble.

“Where,” He asked forcefully.

“Musutafu General Hospital.”

And with those three words, Shouto began running, and didn’t stop until he was at the massive glass doors of the lobby. He walked swiftly to the help desk and slammed his hands on the top of it, a little harder than he intended.

“Y/N L/N, she’s a member of Class 1A at UA, and she was taken to this hospital due to events that occurred downtown. Where is she.” The receptionist looked up to find an angered Shoto, his eyes blazing and narrowed.

“I-I’m sorry?” They asked, a little terrified of him.

“Y/N L/N, she is a patient here. WHERE IS SHE?” He demanded. The receptionist jumped in their seat and began to vigorously click on their computer, searching through patient charts.

“She’s, uh, on floor four, just got out of emergency surgery and is recovering. Room 107.” He didn’t stay to hear anything else they had to say as he sprinted to the staircase, ascending the stairs in record speed. When he arrived on the correct floor, a sudden feeling of misery descended upon him. Sitting in a little seating area, he saw as surgeons - still clad in their scrubs - were hugging a family of four, all of them sobbing in despair. This stirred him to now stumble down the hallways wildly, frantically checking the room numbers on both sides until he found the three numbers he was looking for. 107. Slowly, he pushed the door open to find you laying down on a hospital bed.

When your eyes finally fluttered open, the first thing you felt was the whole body ache that held onto your body like a vice. I’m never complaining about stomach or calf cramps again, you think, squinting to try and see anything in the harsh hospital room lighting. You groaned as you sat up, feeling the pang of pain in the small of your back. You smiled, though, when you saw all the things dotted all over your room. Vases of flowers were placed on the tables, from your vantage point you could spot the familiar petals of peonies - the flowers that symbolize life and good health. On the table next to you, lots of cards were propped up. Some had cheesy “get well soon!” messages scrawled across the front, others a bit more demure. And, as you reached to grab and read one, that’s when you saw them. The familiar pattern of blue and white polka dots left you breathless as you stopped your previous movements and began to inspect them further. These were exactly like the ones that were always in your bag, the ones that are so specifically designed that only one store sells them. You were sure that the hospital you were staying in didn’t make an effort to buy pretty looking bandages for their patients and nobody else knew where to find them in your bag. Nobody else except...

“Shouto…” you breathed, your eyes welling with tears.

“Y/N?” Standing in the door frame stood the exact boy whose name was just uttered from your lips. Dressed in a soft, black turtleneck - the one you always found so flattering on him - and a pair of beige pants. In his hand held the most beautiful red carnations you had ever seen, the petals so dainty and the stems so thin you feared they would break if he even moved them.

“Here, put them in this vase next to-” your speech was interrupted as Shouto let the bouquet fall to the tiled floor, his body moving on autopilot to encase you in his arms, his head wedging itself between your neck and head.

“You’re okay.” He mumbles.

“I’m okay.”

“You’re safe.”

“I’m safe.” Shouto lingers there for a moment before pulling himself back into a standing position, helping you reposition your body on the bed, trying to get more comfortable. The two of you stay in silence for a moment before you speak up.

“Thank you for patching me up,” you say simply, your voice soft as you tilt your head towards the polka-dotted bandages. You see Shouto’s lips quirk up a bit.

“You’re always taking care of me, so I wanted to take care of you. Even if the hospital staff had to do the heavy lifting.” He says, sitting down in the chair next to your bed, pulling it closer so that the two of you were as close as possible. Your hand immediately finds his, grabbing hold of it.

“Shouto, I-”

“Y/N, when I’m around you, I feel the skin on my face grow hot.” His statement caught you off guard. “My stomach turns, too, when you smile at me and look at me in the eye.” You suck in a breath, hoping that what he was trying to say was the same thing you had been feeling for ages. Shouto takes a deep breath before squeezing your hand. “At first I thought I was sick and caught something, due to the increase in temperature, but I realized that I only began to feel this way when you first put a blue polka-dotted bandage on my leg. And then that feeling only came around when you were near.” Finally looking up to meet your eyes, Shouto gazes at you with such care and affection you felt that you could melt. “I think… I think I love you.” Your shocked face soon softens into one of adoration and a grin spreads across your cheeks.

“I love you too.” You see Shouto breathe in relief before taking the hand he was holding and pressing a soft kiss to the back of yours. Your heart flutters at his gesture, encouraging you all the more to pull him towards you so that he could lay on the bed. Quickly, the both of you found comfort as he held you, letting his fingers trace lightly around the polka-dotted bandages. “Will you let me keep on taking care of you? Whenever you get scrapes or bruises… or if something makes you happy or sad or feel anything at all?” You murmured, letting your head fall against his chest. You feel him nodding his head.

“Only if I can take care of you, too.” You smiled, glancing back at the blue and white polka dots to see Shouto’s thumb brushing against it.

“Okay, deal.”

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ariverrunsviolet · 3 years

Text

Hostage Situation (Bucky Barnes imagine)

Summary: A surprise attack has left you captured and under interrogation by an unknown enemy. Only one thing brings you comfort; a certain soldier is out there looking for you.

Gif @ gifbuckybarnes

Pairing: Bucky x Reader Timeline: Post The Falcon and The Winter Soldier Reader is a fellow Avenger that has teamed up with Sam and Bucky. Warnings: Violence, sexual assault, language Words: 2158

Songs I listed to while writing this: Opus by Hoity-Toity, Next Contestant by Nickelback, Protecting Me by Aly & AJ Let me know what you guys think! I have ideas for a part two *Please don't repost this anywhere! Especially without my permission!*

“You’re a stubborn one, ain’t ya?”

You managed to pool a mouthful of spit and blood and hocked it in the direction of your captor. Your breathing was heavier than normal after their relentless interrogation efforts. Time was lost to you; it could have been 12 hours or a whole week since you had been separated from the group and captured.

It had been a surprise attack; Torres’ intel didn’t account for the blitz that struck and took you away from Sam and Bucky. It had all happened so fast—the smoke bombs, a harsh tase to your back, and you woke up here. In this hellhole.

The greasy interrogator lit a freshly drawn cigarette between his fingers and took a deep inhale, blowing the smoke out in your face. “How much longer do you think you can hold out love?”

You refused to look him in the eye as he took another puff. With a screech of his chair and a few steps forward, he yanked the back of your hair and made you face him. As you gasped in surprise, he plunged his mouth into yours and exhaled again. He planted himself firmly against your mouth and nose; you couldn’t release his breath at all. The smoke burned your nose, throat, and lungs as you choked on it.

He finally, finally, pulled away and you struggled to breathe as tears streamed out of your good eye—the other was swollen shut—and down your bruised face.

“I can hold out as long as you, darlin’. Trust me, I’m enjoyin’ myself.” He said, eyeing your uniform. He unsheathed a dagger from his belt and did a quick and clean slice up the center of the clothing, leaving you exposed in just your bra. With your hands chained to the seat behind you, there was nothing you could do to cover yourself.

You kept up your stone-faced resolve. It was an intimidation tactic, and you wouldn’t give him the pleasure of watching you squirm.

“Yeah…Yeah, I think I’ve found some more to enjoy.” The dozen lackeys spread throughout the big, empty room either snickered or stayed eerily quiet.

Before you could manage to spit at him in disgust a second time, you heard a clutter of noises down the hall. They were stifled through the thick walls, but consistent and growing closer.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, a warmth of relief spread through your stomach and you managed a small smirk.

“The hell is going on out there?” One of his henchmen by the door grunted as he pulled out his gun.

“Don’t ask me you moron, go check on it!” The lead interrogator barked. The one by the door nodded to the man next to him and they entered a code into the keypad. With a hiss, the door slid open, and the two rounded the corner to search.

As the door slid back to a close, the leader of the group finally seemed to register the look on your face. “And what the fuck has you looking so giddy?”

“The last mistake you’ll ever make.” You rasped out, giving a full bloody smile, counting down in your head.

By the time you reached down to one, there was a slam against the door to the room, a large, rounded dent showing in the thick metal. The pounding continued, each time adding a newer, thicker bulge to the door. It only took a few more punches until the door flew into room, knocking down one of the men.

And there he was in the doorway, with his shining arm and clear blue eyes. There was just a moment as he locked his gaze with yours and you saw wave after wave of relief, rage, and an assessment of the room all come through his face in that brief second.

The lead interrogator started screaming for his men to attack, but they were already at a critical disadvantage. Bucky was on a warpath, and everyone else in the room was just fodder when it came to his end goal: you.

One of the men dangerously close to the avenging soldier stuck his assault weapon right in Bucky’s face. Gripping the front of the gun, the ringing of bullets stopped at his vibranium palm and jammed the front of the weapon. Yanking it out of the henchmen’s grip, Bucky swung out with it and clocked the aggravator clean across the face, knocking him out cold. These weren’t super soldiers they were dealing with; just sneaky men with big guns and smoke bombs trying to play in the big leagues.

And Bucky was tearing through them like tissue paper. You couldn’t help but feel growing satisfaction; the only thing that would’ve made it better was being free to do it all yourself.

As you watched him move through the room, calculating, quick, and aggressive, the average eye could assume The Winter Soldier was active again. He was snapping guns in half like they were twigs, flipping through the air, and throwing men into each other so hard that they crashed into the wall and laid dazed on the ground. All of this while deathly silent and his eyes glazed over in a look of duty and fury.

Except when he sparingly glanced back at you. Quick looks, making sure you were still there. In those quick, apologetic glances, you could see what he was saying. ‘I’ll be there in a second, hold on.’

He was taking care of the last of the lackies when you felt a hand grip your chin and cold metal shove into your temple. You could feel the slight shaking coming off the leader, as he whistled loudly to get Bucky’s attention.

After an effective punch to the solar plexus of the last of the henchmen, Bucky spun around and set his sights on the handgun rammed into your face. His muscles tensed and for a second, you saw terror flit through his blue orbs before rounding back to steely resolve and rising to meet the gaze of the man that held you captive.

“Drop your weapon.” A demand, with a wall of threatening anger standing tall behind his words.

“Not a chance, Barnes.” The man squeezed your face, making you hiss in response. Bucky’s fists tightened. “If you come any closer, her brain turns into confetti.”

“You do that, and nothing will stop me from breaking every one of your bones into splinters with my bare hands.” Even though you were currently held at gunpoint, Bucky’s threat made you go cold, and a shiver ran up your spine. You didn’t have to be close to the super soldier to know he sincerely meant every word coming out of his mouth.

“You won’t risk it. Not on her life.” His finger hovered over the trigger. “I know that arm comes off your body. Remove it.” Bucky didn’t move a muscle until the man jammed the gun hard into your face, making you wince and causing a quiet cry to escape your throat. “Now!”

Bucky’s resolve broke for an instant, his face panicked until he locked eyes with you. You tried to make it as apparent as you could with just your facial expressions; you had a last-ditch effort ready. Your pupils flicked down to the man’s hand holding your jaw, and you gave a slight and quick head tilt back and looked to Bucky’s face to see if he knew what you were plotting. He understood you like no one else, and with a hesitant, affirmative nod from him, you moved with haste.

Your teeth gnashed down into the man’s hand as you shoved your feet into the floor and launched your chair backwards into the goon behind you. Natasha had taught you this move way back when. The man yelped in surprise and started shooting wildly. You fell to the floor as you watched Bucky cover himself with his arm as a shield, the bullets showering off his vibranium buffer as he surged forward.

You couldn’t see what happened after Bucky had rushed past your line of sight, but the noises you heard told you that he was giving a thorough, yet justified, beating to the man that had haggled with your life.

Even though you were sure Bucky could go at it all day, it wasn’t long until you felt his arms around you, gently pulling your form and the chair upright. He twisted his metal fingers into your shackles, attempting to safely free you, all the while saying “It’s alright. I’m here, you’re safe.” You guessed he was reassuring himself as much as he was reassuring you.

You wanted to jokingly ask “What took you so long?” But you knew he was probably internally beating himself up, asking the same question. Instead, you settled on a quiet but sincere “my hero.”

Your bindings fell to the floor in a flurry of metal clangs and even after singlehandedly dismantling an entire room of kidnappers, Bucky was unprepared for the way your arms whipped up and around his neck, pulling him down to you. His arms instinctively enveloped you, and you knew, you were certain, that you could never feel safer than you did in that moment.

He breathed in all of you, and briefly closed his eyes, relaxing into your hold like warm putty. Both of you needed this more than the other realized.

You pulled away briefly, feeling tears run down your face in warm streaks again, this time in relief. His thumb gently padded them away, careful to avoid your bruised eye, and then rested on your lips. You had no idea how long your eyes were locked into each other until you heard a groaning behind Bucky.

Your stomach, currently swirling with relief and pulsing with adrenaline, felt a hot stab of anger strike through you as you made your way to the man angrily grunting on the floor; Bucky hovered protectively behind you as you moved.

The man’s left arm had been dislocated, and you saw some of his teeth sprinkled on the floor around his face. Your arms stiffened with growing fury as you remembered all of the hell he had gleefully put you through—all of the pain, and embarrassment. You started to reflexively pull your torn clothes around your torso until you felt the warmth of Bucky’s leather jacket cover you. It smelled of pine, and fire, and gunpowder, and just—him. It made you tingle from head to toe as your arms found their way into the sleeves—well, one of the sleeves. Your left harm hung out the gaping hole that was normally meant for Bucky’s vibranium extremity as you zipped up the front.

“We gotta get moving. There are probably more coming that’ll be here any second.” He looked back over his shoulder to the open doorway as he debriefed you, his hand lightly tugging at yours.

“Just give me a second.” You squeezed his hand in response and knelt to fully tower over the shell of a man that had once joyfully taken part in torturing you.

It looked like he was about to say something, probably snarky and condescending, but you beat him to the punch with a swift uppercut into his solar plexus, like Bucky taught you. All of the air left his lungs in a pained shout and he curled into a fetal position, wrapping his one good arm around himself and groaning.

You stood quickly and turned to Bucky, who nodded approvingly and looked impressed, but not surprised, at your aim and the power of your strike. “Okay, I’m good to go now…” your voice faded; the adrenaline flushed out of your system like water running from a faucet. The strong wall that you had put up to survive the interrogation began to dissolve, and it suddenly took everything you had to stay standing, or even keep your eyes open. Your knees gave way and Bucky’s arms were around you in an instant, breaking your fall.

“Hey, (Y/N).” He carefully tapped your cheek a few times trying to rouse you. “Hey, c’mon, stay with me. Please. (Y/N)!”

“Mmmm so sleepy…” you mumbled. “Quick nap, then I’ll be…” you trailed off unwillingly from the dizziness and heard him curse as he hastily called into his earpiece for Sam, demanding he fly his ass and shield down to our location, pronto. His arms swiftly and surely lifted you up into his chest.

‘Thank you for finding me…Bucky’ You would have sworn on your life, in that moment, that you had only thought those words. You had no strength remaining at this point, and darkness was closing in around you. But you must have either said it out loud, or you and Bucky truly had an impenetrable connection. Because he gave your form a light squeeze and the last thing you heard was him mumble assuredly.

“Always.”

#Bucky x Reader #Bucky Barnes x Reader #Bucky x You #Bucky Barnes x You #Protective #Angst #Hostage #Hurt and comfort #Defensive #Romantic #Protector #Hero #Savior #Hostage Situation

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