Summary: The Winter Soldier smelled something divine and no one is going to stop him from having his omega.
Pairing: Alpha!Winter Soldier x Omega!Brock Rumlow
Warnings: a/b/o, a/b/o dynamics, imprisonment, mentions of brainwashing, angst, scenting, true mates, male omega
Deep Abyss masterlist
Darkness is an old friend to the man sitting on the cold concrete. He doesn’t remember how he came here, or his name.
The man only remembers the darkness, and the smell of blood, sweat, and desperation.
There is not much left of him today. He lifts his hands to stare at them. One made of flesh, the other made of metal.
He balls his hands into fists, watching the metal one work just the same way his other one does.
The man cocks his head and wonders what he did to deserve to end up in this hell.
Inhaling deeply, he scrunches up his nose. The food the armed men threw into the cell he’s locked in smells rotten, and his stomach gurgles.
He remembers hunger and pain. That’s all.
The man stares at his hands again. Nothing. Blank. Not a single memory comes up no matter how hard he tries to remember the last month, week, or even yesterday.
He inhales again, to smell anything but the food. Maybe, another smell will help him remember. Again, and again he inhales until a sweet scent hits his senses.
His eyes widen and he purrs low in his throat. Something steers deep within him. Alpha…he’s an alpha. That he remembers.
“Asset,” someone barks at him. The soldier is not the source of the scent. So, the man ignores the person barking at him.
He stares at the ground, looking at the blood and spit on the concrete.
He sits on the ground, sniffing in all directions to catch the scent again.
How long has he been inside this cell? The man can’t tell. He knows nothing. His past and present are only a dark hole in his mind.
“Asset,” the soldier’s voice spats. “Do you need another round on the chair?” Chair. The man stiffens at the word. He finally looks up to stare blankly at the soldier. “Get up. We’ve got work for you to do.”
“Soldat—” Another man steps out of the shadows. He looks at the man in the cell and flicks his fingers. “You heard him.”
The scent his back, and the man dips his head to look at the newly arrived man. This one is dressed in all black, unlike the other men coming to the cell to bark orders at the prisoner or throw food at him.
For a second the other man holds the prisoner’s gaze. Without a word, the man gets up from the ground. His body works on autopilot as he steps toward the bars. He stops right beside the door, waiting for them to open it.
His thoughts slowly vanish from his mind. Sometimes he feels better when this happens.
There is only a moment of doubt right after he comes off the chair.
“Ready to comply,” he replies as he stares into the distance. The man in black swallows thickly as the posture of the prisoner changes.
“Move forward, soldier. We have an important mission for you this time…”
“Did the treatment work? He needed longer than usual to obey our orders,” there’s a new face yelling at the man in black. “I asked you a question, Rumlow. Did the chair work or not? Did his memories get wiped?”
“The Winter Soldier is ready to comply,” Rumlow drops his gaze and murmurs the words. The man in front of him is one of the higher-ranked masterminds behind Hydra.
He’s not to be underestimated. If you end up on his radar, you’ll lose more than your position, especially when you’re an omega in an organization full of ruthless alphas.
Rumlow looks at the asset, feeling his chest tightening at his blank stare. He can’t imagine getting his life stolen over and over again. There is not a day he doesn’t ask himself if he should just drop everything and run.
“Soldat—” Rumlow looks at the Winter Soldier. “I need to brief you now. Follow me.”
Not a word leaves the asset’s mouth. He follows Rumlow out of the room. The alpha dips his head for a second to inhale Rumlow’s scent deeply.
There is something in the back of his mind wanting to claw its way out of the fog clouding his mind. There is only one thing that can bring him out of his trance.
Summary: Ever since a photo of you and Superman kissing was leaked and went viral, you have tried to keep a low profile. Never going public about your meta-human abilities or telling anyone besides Clark. While he uses his abilities to be Superman, your abilities come in handy at the end of the fight to heal him. When you get taken by Luthor, you start to understand the consequences of that picture.
(You can heal yourself and others, but you aren't aware of how far your powers can go! And healing still drains you! kinda like wolverines healing but slower and more painful!)
Warning: Slight spoilers for Superman 2025, hurt/comfort, seizure, temporary main character death, angst, reader has regenerative powers, kidnapping, Lex Luthor
Word Count: 1k
Masterlist
Part 2
Oh, how you wish you had super strength instead of regenerative powers. Something that would actually get you out of this predicament you find yourself in. Strapped to a chair, Lex Luthor on your left with a revolver in hand, ready to play some fucked up Russian roulette, and Clark, weakened by Kryptonite, held in a cell, unable to do anything but watch.
You remember being in your downtown Metropolis apartment, watching the news, about Clark’s, or rather Superman’s secret harem, an explosive thud in your apartment, and then black. Nothing. Until now.
“Now, let’s get this game started, shall we? I ask you, Superman, who are you?” Luthor speaks, lifting the loaded revolver to your head.
“Luthor, please, don’t. They have nothing to do with this.”
Clark
He’s in some floating glass cell, lying on the ground in pain, face swollen, wrinkled, with black lines across his face.
“Cl- Kal-El! Kal-El, are you okay?” you corrected yourself, the pain you feel seeing him like this almost causing you to slip. You feel the cold barrel of a revolver press against your forehead harder, and a click, safety off.
"Now I'm not asking again, who are you?"
Clark groans in agony. “I told you I'm Kal-El, that’s my name,” he huffs, it taking him all of his strength to speak.
“Don’t say anything, Kal-El.”
The gun goes off, you brace for impact, but nothing happens.
Clark cries out, relief that the chamber was empty, but fear that the other wouldn’t be.
You stare into Clark’s eyes, trying to convey so many emotions at once, but mainly to say
It’s okay, I love you.
Trying to remind him that you can survive this. You hope. You’ve never been severely wounded before.
You both know that a bullet to the head might be too much for your powers to handle. But you needed to let him know, just in case.
“Superman, it's okay. Kal-El, it's ok, I’ll be fine, remember.”
"Who raised you, Superman?!"
Clark continues his pleas, “Luthor, they have nothing to do with this, pleas-”
“It’s ok, I love yo-”
Game over.
The revolver snaps back as it goes off, a snap so loud it's silencing.
Your body rocks to the side, the blunt force causing the chair you're attached to to start to wobble.
The air is still, shock coursing through Clark, not believing the sight in front of him. You’re dead, you’re dead.
You. Are. Dead.
Clark let out an agonizing scream, nearly animalistic. Like someone reached into his chest and tore his heart out for all to see, because that’s what happened.
You were his heart, his solace, the one thing that made everything make sense. His scream shakes the cell he’s in, Luthor's unfazed, a look of disappointment on his face.
“Hm, I didn’t think it’d go by so fast. I was hoping to get some more questions in. No matter! I'll just put your precious dead lover in the cell next to you so you can think over the consequences of your actions. Maybe looking at their corpse for the next few hours will be motivation enough. Anyway, I’m off. I’ll find another person you care about and kill them, too. Maybe that Clark Kent you constantly interview with.”
Clark doesn’t pay any mind to his words; his focus is on you. He doesn't know if you can come back from this. Your lifeless body hangs off the chair, blood dripping from the side of your scalp, chest not moving.
He knows you might come back, but that doesn't stop the voice in his head from telling him they're gone, and it’s your fault.
As Luthor leaves, your body is removed from the chair and placed in the cell next to Clark’s, unmoving, just lying there, dead.
Clark puts his hands on the glass separating you two as he continues to sob, repeating like a chant, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” as if he said it enough, you’d be brought back to him.
After what feels like hours to Clark, he suddenly feels the slightest twitch of movement coming from your cell, a sound, a beat. It was almost completely unnoticeable to anyone else, but Clark wasn’t anyone else; his super hearing meant he felt the slightest shift in the air from your energy.
Your fingers twitched, just one, then your hand, suddenly your whole body is convulsing, like you’re having a seizure, a violent one.
Clark flinches at the sight.
You answer his prayers with a groan, “That… that really hurt”. You turned your body towards the glass wall to your left, catching Clark's eyes, more swollen than when you last saw him, and rimmed red. You felt your heart break at the pain you must’ve caused him
“Told you… I'd be… back,” you try to smile as you wince, still catching your breath. Coming back to life after being dead for over an hour was very taxing on the body, it seems. Your powers were working hard to repair the damage done to your brain, your skull. Regenerating brain matter isn’t an easy feat.
Clark tries to laugh, feeling relieved, but still struggling through the grief he was experiencing not even a minute ago, “You’re really back, I thought, I thought I’d lost you, for good.”
You reached out to touch the glass separating you two, meeting his hand, “You’re never losing me.”
You both smile, your strength coming back to you as you turn to Metamorpho, who has been watching your interaction this whole time. Shock evident on his face at your resurrection, tear stains around his eyes, “How-how, you-what”
You gave him a small smirk before nodding your head towards the kryptonite that seems to be where his hand should be. “You think you can turn that off now? I’d like to get out of here only dying once today.”
Metamorpho looks at you and Clark before nodding his head.
Oh, you were going to make Lex Luthor pay.
A/N: First Clark Kent Fic! Sorry is the ending is too rushed! I tried to keep it as gender neutral as possible, hope y'all like it!
Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated! Love ya!
Please do not copy or repost. Love and thank you all!
Idk if this is where you take requests, hopefully it is!
breading kink Simon and infertile reader
where every time they do it, no matter when where or what position Simon is always muttering about he's gonna fill you up, that he can't wait to see your belly all swollen and reader hates it because 1 reader never liked the idea of pregnancy or being pregnant and 2 readers infertile. but she's been too scared to bring it up because Simon seems so obsessed with idea of getting her full with his kid but one day on the middle of him rambling on about it she spits out "i'm infertile."
if you're able to turn this into something i'd love that it's been stuck in my head for ages
༉‧₊˚. Simon Riley breeding reader but she's infertile
cw// ᴍᴅɴɪ, breeding, obsessed simon riley, mentions of infertility
ᯓ★ Simon Riley had always wanted a child, it was his dream to be a loving father to his kid. To be the kind of father his own couldn't be, so when he married you, his sweet little luvie. He wanted you swollen with his child as soon as possible, his pretty little wifey all stuffed and filled with his seed.
So tonight, here he was again stretching out your sweet cunt with his fat thick cock— he says it once again
"Gonna put a baby in ya, swee'heart. Gonna watch y'swell with it, keep ya stuffed so full you’ll feel me fer days."
But you’re tired, tired of hearing him groan into your neck about how he’s going to breed you, fill you up and how he's so hopeful about a kid— his kid when you know it's not possible. So when he growls,
“Can’t wait t'see ya round and full of me.”
“I’m infertile.”
It slips out suddenly, an ugly truth. You don’t mean to say it, not like this, not with Simon buried deep inside you, his calloused hands gripping your plush hips and him groaning about how he'll get you pregnant. No, but it is said now, and you hate it.
Not because of him— God, never because of him but because it isn’t possible. You’ve known since the doctor looked at you with those eyes, pity drowning in them as he broke the harsh reality to you. You’ll never carry a baby, never feel that kind of stretch, never have a bump to caress but simon… Simon dreams about it every time he touches you and you hate yourself for the fact that you can't give him that happiness.
Everything stills, his hips freeze mid-thrust as his breath catches. You can’t— won't look at him. You stare at his rugged chest instead, scared to face him as you wait for his response. you brace yourself for every worse thing possible, waiting for him to pull out, for denial, for rejection, for anger
But all he does instead is let his hands slide up your sides, his rough palms feel soft and gentle now, as he burry his forehead between your neck and shoulder , body trembling as his muffled voice cracks slightly,
“Why didn’ ya tell me?”
“I'm sorry, I-I didn’t want to ruin it for you, you want a family. You want—”
“You. I want you.”
You try to turn to look at his face but he doesn’t let you, he stays inside you, his inked arms wrapped around your body like armor, like he’s scared you’ll disappear if he lets go. After a moment he speaks, his voice thick with emotions as he whispers,
“I do want a baby, so damn bad it fuckin' hurts. But more than that? I want you. If we can’t do it naturally, we’ll find another way, IVF, Surrogacy, Adoption, I don’t give a fuck just as long as it’s with you.”
“But you always talk about it like it’s the only thing you want.”
“I talk about it because the thought of you carrying ma child drives me insane. The idea of the world knowing yer mine? It fucks with my head dovie.”
He presses a kiss to your neck, as his hips start to move again, slow and gentle
“But I love ya more than that fantasy. And if you can’t give me a baby… I’ll still keep filling you up like you can because you'll already be carrying something of mine swee'heart, and that part? That’s not about a baby. That’s about owning you, claiming you, and I’ll never stop doing that swee'heart”
Tears flood your eyes as you choke on a sob, broken 'I'm sorry's' fall from your mouth continuously. You can feel your neck getting wet as his body trembles slightly from the realisation that the thing he had dreamt of for years is the same thing he can never have but it's okay, because you're here with him. He's ready to try everything with you. He pushes deeper in you, kissing your neck and shoulder he doesn’t mutter about breeding this time.
"I-I'm sorry si"
"Shh don't be luvie, I love you. We’ll find a way toge'her, swee'heart"
Summery: After getting the HQ back LV and 141 decide to go out and party and get some drinks little dose Johnny know the girl he’s been eyeing all night is Gaz little sister. Oops!
Warnings: flirting, making out, suggestive, drinking, me trying to write a Brit accent! Not proofread!
Fuck she was fine that’s all Johnny could think as he kept watching you, across the bar with some friends. Simon and Rudy telling him just to go talk to you that worse could happen is you tell him off.
“No fuckin’ way look at her she’s gorgeous!” Soap laughed when Alejandro joined in.
“Common hermano, when was the last time you got laid?” Ruby asked.
Johnny choked a laugh it been a minute but that just because work got in the way “you all act like I get no pussy!”
The three boys laughed, “mon Johnny go talk to the gal, because she keeps looking over here.” Ghost said drinking on his whisky.
“No fucking way actually.” His head whipped twords you and you where.
She had been looking over her shoulder giving him a toothy grin, turning her back to him her friend’s giggling as they talked to her. Her back turned to him he got a good view of her back her back dimples pierced a nice tattoo sitting on her back right shoulder, she wore some short shorts low rise maybe couldn’t tell and he could see the pink swim bottoms she wore the ties hanging out the sides her braids covering her top but but it was a white tank with the matching pink top. Okay yeah but he needed to finish this because that malt liquor was gonna give him the confidence he needed.
“Ima do it.” Johnny said standing up.
Ale and Rudy cheered him on as Simon laughed at the Scott. He had finally gotten to her, she had turned in her seat and he lost his words fuck she is “Wow..”
She let out a laugh “yeah? Ya like what ya see whit boy?” She smiled at him.
She was not from here that for sure, English girl huh.
“Yeah— sorry! I could help but notice ya starin’ gorgeous.” He chuckled.
“Im Johnny!”
“(name)! Lovely meeting you Johnny.” She smiled giving her friend a look having her move as she offered the seat to him.
“Whatcha drinking?” He asked.
“Malibu Sunset..” she laughed lightly, he laughed lightly with her.
“Cant take your liquor?” He joked.
She let her hand come to her chest acting offended “please I’m a big girl just don’t like the taste of it.”
He nodded ordering him and her a drink, she was even better up close her dark skin looked so good in the Mexico sunset as the outside bar lights hit her skin aswell, her gold hoop nose ring sitting pretty on her nose.
“Where ya from Johnny?” She asked taking as drink.
“From St. Andrews but currently living in the outskirts of London, what about you?”
Turns out you were also from London, maybe this wouldn’t just be a one night thing..
The two continued flirting with one another, them finally close to one another their knees touching. She let her hands run down his arms looking at him through her eye lashes. “Hope ya don’t got a girlfriend Johnny—thinking I’m wanting wantin’ ya to myself.” She hummed her tongue licking her bottom lip.
That made the blood rush to his cock, “luckily for both of us I don’t.” He chuckled.
He could smell the alcohol in her breath, the coconut Malibu lingering on her tongue.. he wanted to taste her. He let his hand touch her thigh squeezing it lightly.
“I think you need a soda.” He said tilting his head.
“Not even.. I could do one more sunset..” her hand grabbed the collar of his t-shirt pulling him in close.
“Wanna go for a swim.” She spoke her hot breath hitting his ear.
They was a women he had only knows for 45 minutes had him wrapped around her finger so he got up with her, his eyes looking back at the three men who only laughed Rudy giving him a thumbs up.
Johnny pulled his shirt Ofer his head taking his shoes off putting his socks in them taking his wallet and putting it in his shoe aswell, lookin up he sw her in just her swimsuit no shorts or tank and “Steaming Jesus..”
“Don’t keep me waiting, they’ll watch your stuff.” She said pointing at her friend who sat on the pool side.
Her hand reached out to his the cold water causing goosebumps on his skin, she brought him him closer placing his hands on her hips. Pulling him in deeper her face was close to his the whole time soon he felt his back hit a wall. “You can sit here is it alright if I’m on your lap?” She asked her voice all innocent as her fingers trailed up his biceps.
He nodded feeling her legs lift up placing themselves on either side of him now she was in his lap, he left his hands travel a bit lower his thumb playing with the stringed bikini bottoms his fingers grazing the curve of her ass. The water moved around them the music and all the people in the bar being heard in the background.
“This a’right lass?” He spoke feeling her lips grazes his.
His liquor finally starting to make things feel slower. He felt her lips finally touch his kissing him, Johnny let his hands grip her ass pushing her closer to him as they made out in the pool. Neither of them caring about all the people around.
Soap knows is he could have her right now he would. She tasted sickly of Malibu, not that he hated the coconut rum but fuck it tasted good off her tongue. He could feel her nails digging into his neck as they made out her soft moans heard only to him. He wanted her bad, he started to feel himself get hard all it took was one pluse and he could feel her grin through the kiss.
“Whats got you all hot n bothered Johnny boy?” She teased placing herself right on his erection. This made him have to take a deep breath his eyes shutting harshly.
She let her hips move slowly on his cock as their lips continued to move in sync with one another.
“(Name)!” A male voice could be heard, johnnys only thought was fuck hope it’s not a boyfriend. Which is a bad thing to think but common.
She looked up and so did Johnny “Kyle?!” She yelled, her body not moving off Johnny.
“What the fuck are you doing in Mexico? Aren’t you supposed to be in your fall tri not making out with some ass!” He yelled.
Then his eyes fell on Johnny and the way price and Ghots stood behind him holding in there laughter “No fucking way. You’re actually fucking me right now Johnny.”
“You know him!” She interrupted before soap could answer.
“Yeah I Fouking work with him.” Kyle yelled.
“Wait how do ya know eachother.”
“That’s my Little sister Johnny!” Kyle said moving over twords them Kyle reaching down pulling her up off him.
“Get off me ya ass! I’m grown and I can do what I please what the fuck are ya doin in Mexico huh?” She asked covering her chest looking up at her older brother.
“Working lets go grap ya shit!” Kyle said.
“Fuck off kyle ya not the boss of meh.” She sassed grabbing her sorts and tank.
“Lets go.” He said grabbing her arm lightly, “I’ll deal with ya later and your stiffi.” Kyle glared at soap, Johnny looked between the two she had stupid grin on her face as her eyes made eye contact wit Johnny.
Kyle grabbed her she turned her body a bit putting her hand up to her ear like a phone mouthing ‘call me’ giving Johnny a cheeky grin as he got out the pool.
He looked over at the four still there “no fuckin way that just happened.” Johnny said absolutely speechless.
“Well hermano what happens in Mexico stays in Mexico let’s just hope your friend Gaz doesn’t kill you on Mexican soil.” Alejandro laughs slapping Johnnys back.
“Ya almost fucked Kyles sister, shit.. I hope to see ya in the morning.” Price said laughing a bit as Johnny starting putting on his clothes.
Ghost had stayed behind with him as the others walked out, when picking up his phone he saw a pice of paper under it. ‘Here’s my number! Hope to hear from ya!’ Is read with digits and her name and last. Opening his phone he was some pictures little selfies of her with her cleavage nice and out must had taken them when he went back to the guys real fast to grab his wallet. 
Yeah he’ll be calling her see you at thanksgiving Kyle
.˚₊‧ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ‧₊˚.
A/n: part 2? because this seems like it needs a part to maybe
Summary: An opportunity to escape arises, but it doesn't go as well as you would have hoped. And yet, it might have caused a break in Bucky's Winter Soldier mode...
Warnings: strong language, mentions of kidnapping, dark!bucky, dark!winter soldier, mentions of firearms, gaslighting (just a little bit)
Word Count: +2.6k
дорогая Masterlist II Marvel Masterlist
You promised yourself that you wouldn’t let The Winter Soldier break you, that you would fight until someone finds you or until Bucky somehow snaps out of it, whichever comes first. But as you sit in the dark room you’ve been confined to, handcuffed to the bedpost, the days blur together without a clock in the room. All you have to go by is the small slit in the curtains where you can see whether or not it’s night or day.
It’s like hell. With nothing to do to keep yourself busy, all you can do is sit on the bed, staring at the blank wall in front of you. The pain in your arm is dull now because you’ve gotten used to it being chained to the post. All you can really do is try and think of ways you can get out of this by yourself because it seems that the team is not going to be coming to your rescue.
The door opens for the first time in what’s probably been a few days. Something inside you hopes that it’s your captor with a plate of food. Even the thought of food makes your stomach grumble.
Seeing that he’s holding a plate in his hand, you sit up quickly and a hopeful breath catches in your throat. He chuckles at you, walking over to the small, wonky table a bit away from the bed and placing the plate on it. “I’ll make a deal with you. I’ll take those cuffs off and leave them off if you eat everything on that plate,” he says, leaning against the table with his arms folded over his chest. “Not that I was against you not eating. That was your choice. A stupid choice, considering not eating makes you weaker and more susceptible to breaking easier-”
“I’ll eat,” you cut him off, your voice breaking slightly, but your words cause him to smile at you. It’s not a warm smile like how Bucky used to smile at you in the compound. This smile is sinister, like he’s happy he’s gotten his way.
He picks the plate up again before talking toward you, gently placing it on the bed in front of you, all while keeping eye contact with you. You eye him carefully, making sure he doesn’t have anything to take you by surprise so that he doesn’t have to play this game anymore and he can just take what he wants. You make sure he doesn’t have a weapon on him, but he’s clean. You wonder if he even knows about the secret stash of weapons you have here in your own safe house.
“You see how easy this can be if you just cooperate?” he asks in a whisper, holding his hands up in defeat as he takes a step back while reaching for his pocket.
You know he expects you to say something about that in return, but you bite your tongue and reach for a piece of the bread on the plate. Truth be told, you don’t have the energy to fight him now, whether that is verbally or physically. Out of the corner of your eye, you see him reach for the cuffs binding you to the post. “What, you giving me the silent treatment now?”
The moment your wrist is free, you pull it straight to your chest, protecting it from being grabbed by The Winter Soldier. “What do you want me to say?” you ask, keeping your eyes on your food when you feel him slowly sit down on the space beside you on the bed.
“You could start by saying thank you.”
“And what exactly do I have to be thankful for?” you snap back at him, mumbling through a mouthful of food as you take another bite of the bread in your hands.
“Well then, I’ll just put these back on-” When his hand reaches for your wrist again, you quickly move away, staring wide-eyed at him as you hold your arms close to your body. He sees a slight hint of fear in your eyes like you know now that your life lies in his hands, that he will provide you with food, water, and other things to keep you alive but you also know that he can take those things away from you just as easily.
He smiles to himself as he gently places his hand on your shoulder before running his fingers down the bare skin of your arm. “You don’t have to be scared of me. Would you be scared of Bucky?”
You take in a deep breath through your nose, your skin crawling at his touch that you try to pull away from. “He wouldn’t do this to me,” you whisper, more to yourself than to him.
“How sure are you about that?” he whispers back, his lips close to your ear, his breath against your lobe making a shiver run down your spine. “You really think that he doesn’t want this? That he doesn’t want what I want? You forget that we are still one and the same person. The only difference is that I’m not afraid to take what I want.”
When you try to swallow your food, you find it hard to do that, your throat almost closing up as you think of his words. It makes you overthink every encounter you’ve had with Bucky, thinking about every touch and every word and what they could have meant.
Shaking your head, you push the plate of food away from you and force yourself to look him in the eye. “I don’t believe you.”
“You should, Дорогая.” He expects you to react to the nickname the way you do all the time, but you don’t even roll your eyes at him. You’ve gotten so used to hearing it now, you don’t even react to it anymore. It makes him smile, and he reaches up to push a piece of hair behind your ear even though you try to move away from his hand. “What kind of relationship do you expect us to have if you don’t believe me? Or trust me? Have I ever given you a reason to be afraid of me?”
You narrow your eyes at him. “You fucking strangled me and kidnapped me-”
“And you could have gotten out of all that if you wanted to,” he cuts you off, making you frown at him. “I’ve seen you fight. You can be quite vicious when you want to be. You’ve gotten out of worse scraps before, I shouldn’t be much of a challenge to you. And yet, you didn’t fight back at all. You want to be here just as much,” he says, leaning closer to your face.
You shake your head, telling yourself not to believe him, and his hand takes hold of your chin gently, but you can still feel his power in the hold. “You and I both know that you can escape if you want to. You know this house and these woods better than I do. But you’re not going to because you know, deep down, that you’re enjoying this. You’re enjoying being away from the team, being here with only me. You know that you want this too. That’s why you’re still here and why you’re not fighting me now, Дорогая.”
You don’t want to believe him, telling yourself that you could not fight back every time he overpowered you. And yet, when you think back to that time in your room at the compound, you didn’t even put up that much of a fight. Or, you don’t think you did. Did you?
You don’t want him to be right, but you think he is.
He chuckles when he sees you second-guessing yourself and pushes himself off the bed. “Eat some more,” he says, breaking the silence between you two as he points back to the plate. “Don’t leave this room until I come to get you. Maybe I’ll let you walk around outside if you promise to behave.” The first part was an order which he tried to lighten with the second half of his words. He caresses your cheek quickly before pushing himself off the bed and striding across the room, not waiting for you to respond to him as he leaves you alone again.
Staring at the door, you wait for the sound of it locking, but it doesn’t come. Something tells you that he’s doing this to test you. He’s probably sitting right outside the door, waiting for you to break his order and leave because you think that he won’t be there.
You hear thunder rumbling outside the distance, making you break your gaze from the door to the window. An idea comes to mind when you see the glass between the curtains, pushing you off the bed. Your feet hit the ground quietly like you’re afraid The Winter Soldier will hear you moving in the room. Without your hands cuffed to the bed anymore, you breathe a sigh of relief when you can stand up and walk without restriction.
Slowly, you move towards the window, opening the curtains to see rain falling from the sky. It starts off light, but as you stare out at the trees, watching them sway in the wind, the rain starts to pour, thunder and lightning dancing in the clouds.
Your hands reach for the base of the window, praying that it’s easy to open and that he hasn’t found a way to keep it shut. Holding your breath, you lift the window pane and it opens without a fuss.
Feeling the fresh air against your face, you let out a deep sigh and feel your shoulders relax. You stay still for a moment, your eyes closed as you take the smell of rain in. Then, you come too.
You examine the window, seeing how much space you have to work with to escape. He’s right. You do know these woods well. You have to know which direction to go to get to safety in case your location was compromised and you had to get out of there. It’s never had to happen, but you think you will have an advantage if you decide to escape.
What are you thinking? Of course, you’re going to escape. You’re going to fight back. You’re going to show him that you don’t want what he wants, that you will fight back, and that you won’t give in.
Even though you wish you had more to eat and you feel like resting because you know you’ll need all the strength you can muster up, you know that if you don’t go now, you might never have this opportunity again.
Something inside you, a small voice, tells you that this is a test. If you do this, you’ll fail that test and he’ll be upset with you. You don’t want to upset him…
“Screw it,” you whisper to yourself, stepping back to stick a leg out the window.
Slowly and carefully, you squeeze yourself out the window, trying to not make any noise to alert him from outside the room as to what you’re doing. Finally out in the open, you take a few steps back, keeping your eyes on the door inside to make sure he doesn’t walk through while you’re still outside.
And without a second thought, you turn and bolt away from the cabin, not even caring about the rain quickly soaking through your clothes.
It takes you a while to find your bearings, especially while the sun is going down so quickly. As you weave through the trees, shivering in the cold rain, your heart skips a beat and drops in your stomach when you hear a gunshot in the distance, followed by your name being shouted in the distance. It didn’t take The Winter Soldier long to notice your absences and you haven’t even gotten far.
You are so screwed.
You’ve heard that The Winter Soldier is like a predator hunting a target. It’s terrifying to think that you’re now the prey. The comfort that you know these woods like the back of your hand dwindles now that it’s darker. You feel lost, your heart thumping loudly in your ears, scared that one wrong turn will send you straight into your captor’s arms again.
Hearing him in the distance, your mind tells you to run away even if it’s not in the right direction. You can hear him taunting you, calling out to you in Russian and with that damned nickname he always uses. Even though you’re exhausted, you push yourself as much as you can run faster.
As you shake your head, doubting that you can go any further, your foot catches on an exposed root, making you trip and fall forward, face-planting into the leafy ground. You groan as the pain spreads through your ankle, and your body refuses to go on as you stand up, making tears well up in your eyes.
“You have quite an impressive armory, Дорогая,” he calls, his voice a lot closer now than it was, your fall probably alerting him of your position. “Didn’t think I’d find it, did you? But I did. I had to clear it out before you ended up finding the strength to fight back.”
All you can hear is the thundering of your heart in your throat as the rain pours down. It’s suddenly quiet, terrifying you more when you can’t hear him anymore. You try to listen for his footsteps, but you can’t hear anything.
In the darkness, he sneaks up on you, pushing you against the tree behind you, his metal hand wrapped around your throat, taking you back to when he caught you off guard in your room.
“Didn’t think you’d do something like this. Especially after I warned you what would happen if you tried to run,” he sneers, his grip around your throat tightening, pushing any air out of your windpipe.
“Please, don’t,” you beg, tears falling from your eyes and rolling down your cheeks. You shake your head, a sob leaving your lips as you desperately cling to his arm holding you against the tree. He looks like he could murder you right now if he wanted to with the cold look in his eyes.
You tried. You tried to fight back and escape and it failed. Again. You can’t win. No matter how much you try, he will always find you and you know that from stories of The Winter Soldier and now from personal experience. The Winter Soldier never gives up on his targets. Bucky told you that.
“Bucky,” you whisper, deciding to give it one last chance to try and reach out to the man trapped in his own mind. “I can’t fight back anymore. I don’t have any more strength. Please,” you cry.
His face softens, his grip around your throat falters, and his shoulders fall as he takes a small step back. “(Y/n),” he whispers, his hand falling away from your neck, resting on your collarbone as you take a deep breath.
With a flash of lightning, you can see the change in his face. It’s not as harsh as the Winter Soldier. It bears the softness of Bucky when you’ve talked to him. Still heaving, trying to restore your lungs from running and from when he was strangling you, the tears continue to fall down your cheeks at the thought that you could be safe now that Bucky’s come around.
He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes as a twinge in his neck makes him look away from you. When his hand on your collarbone tightens again, his jaw tensing, and his arm pushing you back against the tree, your heart drops again as he looks back at you.
“I’m sorry.” And without another word, he forces his head forward against yours, knocking you out in one headbutt, and catching you as you fall in his arms.
Just imagine filthy nasty feral Bucky who loves how much cum he has for you. It evokes every kink under the sun. He’s cocky as hell because the load he blows is nearly endless. The serum makes his orgasms so much more intense, his cock swelling more than before, and he produces enough cum to stuff you full.
I like to imagine, he didn’t even have the urge to cum until he first laid his eyes on you when he first walked into the compound. You stirred something in him and for the first time ever, his pants felt too tight, just a tad uncomfortable, the ache between his legs growing worse when you actually smiled at him.
It’s been years since he felt anything there but now the need is screaming at him and his primal urges take over, he needs his release so badly.
Reader gets hurt badly but with happy/fluff ending☺️
Injured / Sick Reader
masterlist | req masterlist
I combined these asks! so this is going to be an injured / sick!reader rec
Without You by @winter-soldier-vibes
You take a lot of risks on missions and one time, you get hit too hard and Bucky isn’t able to cope not knowing if you’re going to be okay.
Haze by @pellucid-constellations
Separated on a mission gone wrong, Bucky found you disoriented and bruised. Things seemed to be looking up when he located the safehouse and got you settled. Until they didn’t.
Be Still, My Indelible Love by @pellucid-constellations
Bucky’s in love with you. You’re in love with the warmth of him, even as it stings and aches in the cold.
Back to Bourbon Street by @wkemeup
When you’re badly injured on a mission, Bucky works desperately to keep you alive. Only, it might not be enough.
Why Are You At The Wake? by @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky
Bucky sits by your hospital bed, anxious for you to finally open your eyes. He’s got to set the record straight, and apologize for what he said before you got hurt.
Necessary Evil by @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky
when you end up hurt after a mission, Bucky is tasked with taking care of you. But you’ve never experienced pain like this before.
Put My Mind At Ease by @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky
You return home from a successful mission with plans to have a pizza night with Bucky- but things go awry when an injury rears it’s head.
Safe With Me by @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky
A mission goes sideways, putting you in the hands of a notorious Hydra arms dealer. Upon returning home, your well-being takes a turn for the worst, but Bucky is there for you.
The World Stopped Moving by @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky
A mission gone wrong leaves you and Bucky both gravely injured.
Seam Ripper by @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky
After getting injured on a mission, you decide to keep your condition a secret from Bucky, knowing full well that he won’t sleep with you if you’re hurt.
For You by @fandoms-writings
Bucky is in love with you, but that will have to wait until after he saves you.
Confessions in a Coma by @subwaysurf45
When you find Hydra now has wolves as their first line of defense you pay the price, but not entirely.
as long as you’re with me (you’ll be just fine) by @maivolpe
you neglect an injury to be able to see your boyfriend. he, however, sees right through your charade.
summary: When you’re badly injured on a mission, Bucky works desperately to keep you alive. Only, it might not be enough.
pairing: bucky x reader
word count: 6.7k
warnings: canon level violence, hurt!reader, poison, brink of death cuddling, angst with a happy ending
There is a moment of clarity amidst the chaos of the battlefield; a brief, impossible moment that allows Bucky to take hold of a peace he’s been missing for decades. The perfect storm of violence and adrenaline is one he’s familiar with, something he knows well enough to allow his mind to take a step back and give control to his instincts.
Left jab. Right hook. Kick. Swipe the leg. Shoot.
The sound of the chopper above is muffled. The shouts of the men rushing at him with weapons and malice are indistinguishable. His body moves of its own accord and this is what makes him untouchable. Even with the Winter Soldier buried to the deepest parts of his mind, Bucky finds a relief in letting go of the control, of allowing an untethered detachment to rise to the surface just long enough to get the job done.
Bodies in his wake, blood on his hands, and his mind elsewhere.
Summary: An opportunity to escape arises, but it doesn't go as well as you would have hoped. And yet, it might have caused a break in Bucky's Winter Soldier mode...
Warnings: strong language, mentions of kidnapping, dark!bucky, dark!winter soldier, mentions of firearms, gaslighting (just a little bit)
Word Count: +2.6k
дорогая Masterlist II Marvel Masterlist
You promised yourself that you wouldn’t let The Winter Soldier break you, that you would fight until someone finds you or until Bucky somehow snaps out of it, whichever comes first. But as you sit in the dark room you’ve been confined to, handcuffed to the bedpost, the days blur together without a clock in the room. All you have to go by is the small slit in the curtains where you can see whether or not it’s night or day.
It’s like hell. With nothing to do to keep yourself busy, all you can do is sit on the bed, staring at the blank wall in front of you. The pain in your arm is dull now because you’ve gotten used to it being chained to the post. All you can really do is try and think of ways you can get out of this by yourself because it seems that the team is not going to be coming to your rescue.
The door opens for the first time in what’s probably been a few days. Something inside you hopes that it’s your captor with a plate of food. Even the thought of food makes your stomach grumble.
Seeing that he’s holding a plate in his hand, you sit up quickly and a hopeful breath catches in your throat. He chuckles at you, walking over to the small, wonky table a bit away from the bed and placing the plate on it. “I’ll make a deal with you. I’ll take those cuffs off and leave them off if you eat everything on that plate,” he says, leaning against the table with his arms folded over his chest. “Not that I was against you not eating. That was your choice. A stupid choice, considering not eating makes you weaker and more susceptible to breaking easier-”
“I’ll eat,” you cut him off, your voice breaking slightly, but your words cause him to smile at you. It’s not a warm smile like how Bucky used to smile at you in the compound. This smile is sinister, like he’s happy he’s gotten his way.
He picks the plate up again before talking toward you, gently placing it on the bed in front of you, all while keeping eye contact with you. You eye him carefully, making sure he doesn’t have anything to take you by surprise so that he doesn’t have to play this game anymore and he can just take what he wants. You make sure he doesn’t have a weapon on him, but he’s clean. You wonder if he even knows about the secret stash of weapons you have here in your own safe house.
“You see how easy this can be if you just cooperate?” he asks in a whisper, holding his hands up in defeat as he takes a step back while reaching for his pocket.
You know he expects you to say something about that in return, but you bite your tongue and reach for a piece of the bread on the plate. Truth be told, you don’t have the energy to fight him now, whether that is verbally or physically. Out of the corner of your eye, you see him reach for the cuffs binding you to the post. “What, you giving me the silent treatment now?”
The moment your wrist is free, you pull it straight to your chest, protecting it from being grabbed by The Winter Soldier. “What do you want me to say?” you ask, keeping your eyes on your food when you feel him slowly sit down on the space beside you on the bed.
“You could start by saying thank you.”
“And what exactly do I have to be thankful for?” you snap back at him, mumbling through a mouthful of food as you take another bite of the bread in your hands.
“Well then, I’ll just put these back on-” When his hand reaches for your wrist again, you quickly move away, staring wide-eyed at him as you hold your arms close to your body. He sees a slight hint of fear in your eyes like you know now that your life lies in his hands, that he will provide you with food, water, and other things to keep you alive but you also know that he can take those things away from you just as easily.
He smiles to himself as he gently places his hand on your shoulder before running his fingers down the bare skin of your arm. “You don’t have to be scared of me. Would you be scared of Bucky?”
You take in a deep breath through your nose, your skin crawling at his touch that you try to pull away from. “He wouldn’t do this to me,” you whisper, more to yourself than to him.
“How sure are you about that?” he whispers back, his lips close to your ear, his breath against your lobe making a shiver run down your spine. “You really think that he doesn’t want this? That he doesn’t want what I want? You forget that we are still one and the same person. The only difference is that I’m not afraid to take what I want.”
When you try to swallow your food, you find it hard to do that, your throat almost closing up as you think of his words. It makes you overthink every encounter you’ve had with Bucky, thinking about every touch and every word and what they could have meant.
Shaking your head, you push the plate of food away from you and force yourself to look him in the eye. “I don’t believe you.”
“You should, Дорогая.” He expects you to react to the nickname the way you do all the time, but you don’t even roll your eyes at him. You’ve gotten so used to hearing it now, you don’t even react to it anymore. It makes him smile, and he reaches up to push a piece of hair behind your ear even though you try to move away from his hand. “What kind of relationship do you expect us to have if you don’t believe me? Or trust me? Have I ever given you a reason to be afraid of me?”
You narrow your eyes at him. “You fucking strangled me and kidnapped me-”
“And you could have gotten out of all that if you wanted to,” he cuts you off, making you frown at him. “I’ve seen you fight. You can be quite vicious when you want to be. You’ve gotten out of worse scraps before, I shouldn’t be much of a challenge to you. And yet, you didn’t fight back at all. You want to be here just as much,” he says, leaning closer to your face.
You shake your head, telling yourself not to believe him, and his hand takes hold of your chin gently, but you can still feel his power in the hold. “You and I both know that you can escape if you want to. You know this house and these woods better than I do. But you’re not going to because you know, deep down, that you’re enjoying this. You’re enjoying being away from the team, being here with only me. You know that you want this too. That’s why you’re still here and why you’re not fighting me now, Дорогая.”
You don’t want to believe him, telling yourself that you could not fight back every time he overpowered you. And yet, when you think back to that time in your room at the compound, you didn’t even put up that much of a fight. Or, you don’t think you did. Did you?
You don’t want him to be right, but you think he is.
He chuckles when he sees you second-guessing yourself and pushes himself off the bed. “Eat some more,” he says, breaking the silence between you two as he points back to the plate. “Don’t leave this room until I come to get you. Maybe I’ll let you walk around outside if you promise to behave.” The first part was an order which he tried to lighten with the second half of his words. He caresses your cheek quickly before pushing himself off the bed and striding across the room, not waiting for you to respond to him as he leaves you alone again.
Staring at the door, you wait for the sound of it locking, but it doesn’t come. Something tells you that he’s doing this to test you. He’s probably sitting right outside the door, waiting for you to break his order and leave because you think that he won’t be there.
You hear thunder rumbling outside the distance, making you break your gaze from the door to the window. An idea comes to mind when you see the glass between the curtains, pushing you off the bed. Your feet hit the ground quietly like you’re afraid The Winter Soldier will hear you moving in the room. Without your hands cuffed to the bed anymore, you breathe a sigh of relief when you can stand up and walk without restriction.
Slowly, you move towards the window, opening the curtains to see rain falling from the sky. It starts off light, but as you stare out at the trees, watching them sway in the wind, the rain starts to pour, thunder and lightning dancing in the clouds.
Your hands reach for the base of the window, praying that it’s easy to open and that he hasn’t found a way to keep it shut. Holding your breath, you lift the window pane and it opens without a fuss.
Feeling the fresh air against your face, you let out a deep sigh and feel your shoulders relax. You stay still for a moment, your eyes closed as you take the smell of rain in. Then, you come too.
You examine the window, seeing how much space you have to work with to escape. He’s right. You do know these woods well. You have to know which direction to go to get to safety in case your location was compromised and you had to get out of there. It’s never had to happen, but you think you will have an advantage if you decide to escape.
What are you thinking? Of course, you’re going to escape. You’re going to fight back. You’re going to show him that you don’t want what he wants, that you will fight back, and that you won’t give in.
Even though you wish you had more to eat and you feel like resting because you know you’ll need all the strength you can muster up, you know that if you don’t go now, you might never have this opportunity again.
Something inside you, a small voice, tells you that this is a test. If you do this, you’ll fail that test and he’ll be upset with you. You don’t want to upset him…
“Screw it,” you whisper to yourself, stepping back to stick a leg out the window.
Slowly and carefully, you squeeze yourself out the window, trying to not make any noise to alert him from outside the room as to what you’re doing. Finally out in the open, you take a few steps back, keeping your eyes on the door inside to make sure he doesn’t walk through while you’re still outside.
And without a second thought, you turn and bolt away from the cabin, not even caring about the rain quickly soaking through your clothes.
It takes you a while to find your bearings, especially while the sun is going down so quickly. As you weave through the trees, shivering in the cold rain, your heart skips a beat and drops in your stomach when you hear a gunshot in the distance, followed by your name being shouted in the distance. It didn’t take The Winter Soldier long to notice your absences and you haven’t even gotten far.
You are so screwed.
You’ve heard that The Winter Soldier is like a predator hunting a target. It’s terrifying to think that you’re now the prey. The comfort that you know these woods like the back of your hand dwindles now that it’s darker. You feel lost, your heart thumping loudly in your ears, scared that one wrong turn will send you straight into your captor’s arms again.
Hearing him in the distance, your mind tells you to run away even if it’s not in the right direction. You can hear him taunting you, calling out to you in Russian and with that damned nickname he always uses. Even though you’re exhausted, you push yourself as much as you can run faster.
As you shake your head, doubting that you can go any further, your foot catches on an exposed root, making you trip and fall forward, face-planting into the leafy ground. You groan as the pain spreads through your ankle, and your body refuses to go on as you stand up, making tears well up in your eyes.
“You have quite an impressive armory, Дорогая,” he calls, his voice a lot closer now than it was, your fall probably alerting him of your position. “Didn’t think I’d find it, did you? But I did. I had to clear it out before you ended up finding the strength to fight back.”
All you can hear is the thundering of your heart in your throat as the rain pours down. It’s suddenly quiet, terrifying you more when you can’t hear him anymore. You try to listen for his footsteps, but you can’t hear anything.
In the darkness, he sneaks up on you, pushing you against the tree behind you, his metal hand wrapped around your throat, taking you back to when he caught you off guard in your room.
“Didn’t think you’d do something like this. Especially after I warned you what would happen if you tried to run,” he sneers, his grip around your throat tightening, pushing any air out of your windpipe.
“Please, don’t,” you beg, tears falling from your eyes and rolling down your cheeks. You shake your head, a sob leaving your lips as you desperately cling to his arm holding you against the tree. He looks like he could murder you right now if he wanted to with the cold look in his eyes.
You tried. You tried to fight back and escape and it failed. Again. You can’t win. No matter how much you try, he will always find you and you know that from stories of The Winter Soldier and now from personal experience. The Winter Soldier never gives up on his targets. Bucky told you that.
“Bucky,” you whisper, deciding to give it one last chance to try and reach out to the man trapped in his own mind. “I can’t fight back anymore. I don’t have any more strength. Please,” you cry.
His face softens, his grip around your throat falters, and his shoulders fall as he takes a small step back. “(Y/n),” he whispers, his hand falling away from your neck, resting on your collarbone as you take a deep breath.
With a flash of lightning, you can see the change in his face. It’s not as harsh as the Winter Soldier. It bears the softness of Bucky when you’ve talked to him. Still heaving, trying to restore your lungs from running and from when he was strangling you, the tears continue to fall down your cheeks at the thought that you could be safe now that Bucky’s come around.
He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes as a twinge in his neck makes him look away from you. When his hand on your collarbone tightens again, his jaw tensing, and his arm pushing you back against the tree, your heart drops again as he looks back at you.
“I’m sorry.” And without another word, he forces his head forward against yours, knocking you out in one headbutt, and catching you as you fall in his arms.
Synopsis: Life seemed to spin upside down very quicky - with Nancy trapped by Vecna - he was carving out each and every last one of you. But soon Nancy was just a pawn, you were Vecna’s true target.
Warning: DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, THIS IS A DARK ONE!!! No dark characters but dark thoughts, Angst out the ass, Mentions of S*lf H*rm, Mentions of Su***de, Mentions of Ab*se, Mentions of S**ual A**ault, Angst to Fluff, Vecna, Death, Angst,
Rating: M due to themes - NO MINORS!
Author’s Note: Right after I finished V1, I had a really thorough dream of what it would be like to be in the upside down with the quad squad. Due to how dark Vecna is, it only felt right to match this. Please, if any of the warnings upset you than sit this one out - I made this as more of a self indulgent fic, ya know to cope with my own trauma :)
The Dark Side of Francisco Morales {Catfish x F!Reader}
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 9.7k
Warnings: Gun kink, oral sex (female and male receiving), vaginal sex, role-play, hunter/prey dynamics, consent and safe words, Dark!Frankie, knife play, slapping, derogatory language, gun play, spanking, bondage, rough sex, soft aftercare
Comments: You admit that you have certain…fantasies that you want to act out and so does Frankie. You find yourself isolated in the mountain, running from Frankie, because when he catches you, he gets to have you anyway he wants.
Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers
Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says ’creator chooses not to use warnings’. You also agree that you’re the right age to be consuming anything here.
There were times where you were ashamed of how much the simple act of maintaining his weapons turns you on. You know it’s a source of comfort, relaxation for him. Pulling out the pistol that is kept in the gun safe and spreading it out on the kitchen table, using an old towel to make sure the cleaner doesn’t damage the wood. Breaking the gun down to just pieces, part of the whole and scrubbing each one with a tiny brush and a soft cloth to make sure that it is clean.
His brow furrows slightly and his eyes narrow in concentration. Those hands, large and heavy, are also dexterous and nimble while he works. It makes you so wet that often you disappear into the bedroom to touch yourself while you think about other things. Things you’ve never been able to voice to Frankie before.
Frankie looks up as you hover in the doorway, watching him as he carefully cleans his Beretta 9mm. “Do you need something baby?” He asks softly and you shake your head, lost for words, and he frowns, setting the piece down. “What’s up? You have been standing there watching me, not saying anything. Have I done something wrong? Did I not put the toilet seat down again?” He chuckles.
A/N: Thank you so much for the request love <3 Hope you like it, sorry for how long it took me! I feel like it’s not my best :/ , I apologize ~Please check out my ~prompt list~ Hope you enjoy the story, feel free to leave any feedback and please let me know of any warnings or errors I missed, thanks for stopping by :)
~NOT PROOFREAD/EDITED- all mistakes are my own~
Blood spilled from my mouth as my left ear rang. I spit the rest of the blood onto the floor of the bus before laughing and looking back up.
“That all you got?”
The ninja looked into my eyes as they started to pull the gun that was strapped to them to the front of their body. I smirked at them, trying to make it seem like I wasn’t phased by their intimidation.
My heart was beating so hard I was surprised they couldn’t hear it over the sounds of the bus driving on the rough pavement. I was terrified.
“Hey, wait wait wait wait wait” Karen said from beside me, raising her hands as best as she could with the restraints on. “We don’t know what we’re saying. We're all just scared in here, all right?”
The woman carrying a pistol walked over, setting a hand on the ninja’s shoulder. The ninja lowered the weapon, turning around to deal with another passenger who started yelling.
The woman motioned over another guy who had been standing in the corner of the bus. He wasn’t a ninja, but rather wore plain black attire. He had a big gun in his hand. The woman stood there, staring at me as he made his way over. I looked between them, shifting uncomfortably underneath their stares. The woman took her time looking me up and down before looking at the guy with the gun and nodding. She started to walk away.
“Hey hey hey, what does that mean?” I asked, trying to sit up straight.
The guy raised his gun, and didn’t hesitate to shoot right at my thigh. I gasped and flinched, not feeling anything. Did he miss? I looked up at him in confusion as he smirked and walked away.
“Next one to make a sound dies.” The woman yelled to the bus, holding eye contact with me. I let out a breath I wasn’t aware I was holding. The woman looked at me with disgust before turning away. I sat back up, wincing as what felt like a cold breeze went against my leg. My hand went to press against where it was cold.
“Thanks, Page. I knew what I was doing.” I whispered to her, keeping an eye on the next passenger that was being harassed by the woman and ninjas.
“Did you? Looked to me like you were trying to get killed. Did he shoot you?”
The passenger started yelling and fighting against them. I turned to Karen.
“I knew what I was doing. And no- he didn’t shoot me. If they wanted to kill us, they would have-”
I stopped mid sentence as a shot rang out through the bus. I flinched, my hands shooting up to my head. The sudden movement caused pain to shoot through my entire body, but my fight or flight that had kicked in kept it at bay. I opened my eyes slowly, my head turning to the left- where the shot came from.
The passenger that had started to fight back went limp in the ninja's arms as they lowered them to the ground.
Shit. I thought we were just being used as leverage to bring Matt out. People that were supposed to be kept intact until they had him. Now I knew- we were just bait. Easily disposable bait.
I panted, my anxiety suddenly flying through the roof. I turned to Karen, who had her head down and was panting as well. We exchanged a look before her eyes went to my ear.
“What the hell is that?” She pointed, putting her face closer to my ear. I backed up instinctively.
“What? What?” I put my own hand up to it, pressing it before pulling my hand away to look at it. I didn’t feel any pain in my ear, it felt fine. Normal. My hand was covered in blood. Shit.
“What is that? Are you bleeding?” Karen asked. I kept looking at my hand.
“It must be from the punch they got in. I feel fine.” I said, staring at my hand. I didn’t lie. I did feel fine.
I could see Karen continue to stare at me from the corner of my eye, but she didn’t get a chance to speak again before the bus came to a screeching stop. The ninjas dragged the body of the passenger to the back door, kicking it open and hauling him out first.
In all the commotion, I finally moved my hand away from my face and looked at my thigh. There was a bullet lodged into the middle of my thigh. Blood was coming from the wound like a fountain, covering the floor of the bus and my hand. I started panting, watching the blood trail from the passenger that passed us. Karen was too busy checking on the other people around her, and I was grateful.
If Karen notices I actually got shot, she gets mouthy. Then we die.
She stood up, helping an elderly next to her out of the bus. I let out a long exhale before sharply inhaling and grabbing onto the window above me, pulling myself up. It was harder than I anticipated, but I fought against the fire spreading through my leg and jumped up. One of the ninjas was waiting by the door.
I jumped onto the floor with my good leg, wincing and following the crowd down a hallway into an elevator that was dimly lit by blue fluorescents. I stood in the front of the crowd, the rest of the passengers pushing to get behind me and hide. Adrenaline was racing through my body.
What am I gonna do? How is Matt going to be able to get all of these people out? Or take out all of the people holding us hostage? What if he doesn’t come at all? Shit, my thigh hurts. I’m getting real tired.
The elevator came to a stop, the masked kidnappers yelling at us to get off. We rushed forward into the room of what seemed to be a warehouse, one wall completely made of tinted windows. A police siren sounded from outside, my head darting in the same direction.
The woman that had shot the passenger came through the doors last, speaking in Japanese to the ninjas before leaving again.
Shit. The cops are going to die if they don’t get out of here. They don’t have a chance against them.
Where is Matt?
I dropped onto the floor, getting dizzy. I almost fell over before Karen leaned against me, lifting me with her body.
“Hey, you okay?”
I opened my eyes- which I didn’t realize I had closed in the first place. I looked at her.
“Yeah, yeah.” I replied, nodding. I attempted a smile.
“You’re extremely pale…” She trailed off, her eyes starting to search my body. I started rambling.
“Think it’s just the adrenaline. Or anxiety. Or nausea. Or any number of things going wrong right now.”
Karen kept a serious face, not even listening to me as she moved my hands that were pressing onto the wound in my thigh.
“Oh, god” She whispered, gasping and continuing to talk. I didn’t hear what she said. I was exhausted, and my body was hurting so badly.
I let my eyes close, listening to the screaming outside. I could hear faint voices over the police radio, but no gunfire.
Just adding to the number of people to die.
I didn’t feel anything towards that realization. I didn’t feel anything at all. All of my thoughts were observations. Nothing deeper, none of my own thoughts. I just wanted to lay down for a while. The screaming suddenly ended abruptly, which I didn’t want to think too much over. I tried to focus on the radio, on what was being said, but it was no use. I didn’t have heightened senses. Karen was still talking to me, still whispering something. I finally stopped hearing the police radio and came back into the warehouse. I couldn’t hear what Karen was telling me before I felt my body swaying lightly. She tried to prop me up, to sit me up by myself. I fell to my side, onto the ground.
The people who kidnapped us, along with the woman and the man dressed in black all started yelling. It sounded like they were on the other side of a tunnel. They raised their guns, towards all of us sitting in a group in the middle of the room. They were going to kill us.
I heard my name being said in panic before the lights in the warehouse shut off completely. It was pitch black in the room, save for the tiny squares of light being reflected off the windows and onto the floor.
He’s here.
I started laughing on the floor, Karen’s hand on my lower back in worry.
“You’re all fucked.” I said, spitting out a bit of blood that was in my mouth. I turned to my back, staring at the ceiling. I was panting and trying to breathe- which was getting harder and harder to do. Blood was slowly filling my mouth.
That’s when I heard the thumping and crashing of punches, connecting and connecting. A punch thrown, a weapon hitting a body, the body hitting the floor. Repeatedly.
C’mon, I gotta get up. He’s here. Let’s go.
Hostages started running around, trying to find the exit and even helping- who I assumed was Matt- take down some of the ninjas. Some of them failed. All I could hear was the screaming and sound of bodies hitting the floor all around me. My vision was starting to get blurry before I heard a gunshot amidst the fighting. I sat straight up suddenly, my vision clearing for a second.
What was that? Where’s Matt? And Karen? Are they okay? Where’d that gunshot come from?
Adrenaline pulsed through my veins, all pain subsiding. I could barely see anything, save for shadows running around the warehouse. I frantically looked around, trying to see a familiar face. All I could hear was the sound of my heartbeat, pounding in my ears as it muffled the sounds of screaming.
Where’s Matt? I gotta find him, I gotta- I’ve gotta see him. Where is he?
The sound of rapid gunfire coming from behind me rang through my ears. I crouched slightly, but the feeling of my ribs pressing against my lung made me sit straight up again. I gasped, panting heavily as I turned around. There was the guy who shot me, firing round after round into…
I turned my head to look at who he was shooting at- to see a limp body, lifted off the ground and taking all of the bullets into their back. Someone was holding the body up, using it as a shield.
Someone in a devil’s costume.
My heartbeat picked up again, this time with a tinge of relief. He’s here.
Matt was struggling to keep the body up, still being a good distance away from the shooter. The shots were relentless, not coming from a pistol anymore but from an assault rifle. He needed help.
I looked around me on the ground, ignoring the puddles of blood and lifeless bodies. I started to crawl around, my hands on the floor feeling around for a weapon. A gun lay a couple feet from the shooter- a couple feet from me. I crawled closer, watching them. All their attention was on Matt, on killing him. I wouldn’t let that happen.
I was pulling myself, putting all my weight into my arms. My leg was dead weight. The pain was relentless, like a knife being twisted deeper and deeper with every bit of movement. I was breaking out into cold sweats. I was leaving a trail of blood as I crawled like my life depended on it. When, it wasn’t mine. It was Matt’s.
I have to help him.
I grabbed the gun, aiming it at the man’s shoulder and firing. He yelled in pain, the gunshots finally stopping as his shoulder got thrown back. He staggered backwards a couple of steps, his hand going to cover the wound as he grimaced. He slowly picked his head up, making eye contact with me.
The room spun, and I couldn’t see more than a couple feet in front of me anymore. The gun dropped from my hand. I couldn’t find the energy to hold it, let alone pick it up. I was too weak. I dropped to my elbows as I tried to hold myself up. I held eye contact as he aimed his gun towards me.
I looked down at the ground.
I helped him. It’s okay, this is okay.
Blood dripped from my mouth and onto the floor as I waited for the shot to ring out.
And it did.
Again. And again. And again.
But, it didn’t hit me.
I was shaking, struggling to hold myself up. I couldn’t even lift up my head to see who got shot. I started to zone out.
A hand lifted my chin up. I opened my eyes, taking a second to focus on what was in front of me. Not what- who.
“Sweetheart, hey- you’re okay. We’re okay.” He whispered, helping me up so I was sitting upright, one of my hands on my thigh and the other on Matt’s that was now holding my face.
“Matt.” I whispered, my voice cracking. Tears fell from my eyes in relief.
He was okay. And now he’s here.
It was much quieter in the warehouse. Everybody else must have left. How long have I been in here? And by myself? I was so confused, but he was here. He was with me.
“You’re bleeding.” He said, his hand going to the back of my neck. He was moving his head around, trying to sense where it was coming from.
“I got shot.”
“Who? Who shot you?” He grunted out, his hand falling on top of my own that rested on my wound. I forced my eyes shut and groaned in pain. It hurt so bad. It was so cold.
“I also got punched.” I whispered, letting out a laugh. He didn’t find it funny. The red lenses over his eyes stared at my shoulder. His jaw tensed and untensed. Repeatedly. He tilted his head. I panted, watching him.
His daredevil suit was pristine. The armor on his shoulders, on his abs. All my attention was on them, on the material. I forgot we had been talking until he spoke again.
“Who did this to you?” He whispered out, barely audible. My attention snapped back to the devil in front of me. The devil that laid a tender hand on the back of my neck, gentle and comforting. The devil that would never hurt me. The devil that was slowly losing patience.
I could tell by the way that his jaw was set. He was biting down so hard, it must have hurt him. I looked at his chin. I could feel the tears falling down my face still. His lips were slightly parted.
“Mr. Trigger happy over there. You already got him” I said, using my head to motion behind him. His hand remained on my head as his head turned to the side, using his ear to sense the guy on the ground. His hands left my body as he stood up and looked at me. I looked around. We were alone, save for the unconscious bodies surrounding us.
“Matt… what are you doing?” I asked, blinking up at him. He got the guy. He knew that. He knows that he’s not getting up. Matt had hit him pretty good. He wasn’t dead, but he wasn’t a threat anymore.
Matt just stared at me in silence for a moment before turning around and walking back over to the guy.
“Matt.” I said, reaching for him.
Matt reached him, yanking him up by the collar of his shirt. My hand went to my mouth as I yelled his name again. The guy’s head wobbled, his hand shooting to try and push Matt’s away but he wasn’t there enough to put up a fight. Matt wound his hand back, punching him straight across his jaw. Blood splattered onto the floor as the guy yelled in pain.
“Matthew!” I screamed, pulling myself towards him on the ground. It was like he didn’t hear me.
Matt picked him up, yelling out as he punched him across his face again. The guy's hands weakly went up to try and offer any sort of defense, but he was getting weaker and weaker.
My hands were being rubbed raw from the concrete as I pulled with all my strength towards them. I was shaking, the pain all over my body a muted background noise. Matt picked him up, punching him again.
The guy’s hands went limp at his sides, choking on his blood as he laid on the ground. Matt stood over him, his chest rising and falling dramatically as he grunted out breaths. Rage steamed from his shoulders, fueling him. I could feel it. I was terrified.
“Matt, please…” I cried out, getting closer to him but still too far to stop him. He didn’t react to me, as if I wasn’t even there.
“Please… please…” The guy on the ground whispered out, like the words were being ripped from him subconsciously. Tears mixed with my blood falling onto the ground.
Matthew lifted his hands up, slamming them onto the man’s chest. He lurched forward, spitting blood onto Matt’s mask.
He’s gonna kill him.
I crawled to the gun the man had been using, pulling it towards me with all of my effort. I fell onto the ground, flipping myself around to face the sky. I shut my eyes to focus and strain myself to hold the gun. I breathed heavily, my lungs feeling like they were about to explode. It stung to breathe in, and burned to breathe out.
You have to do this. He doesn’t know what he’s doing. He does this, and he’ll hate himself forever. You have to stop him.
I turned myself back around, looking back at Matt. He was still hitting against the man’s chest with no mercy. I leaned myself off the floor with the gun, aiming where I wanted it. The guy on the ground was almost gone, barely breathing. Blood was everywhere. On the ground, all over Matt, almost reaching me.
Matthew raised his hands one last time, as if God himself was trying to put a stop to it- trying to pull him away, up and off the ground. Away from the man he was killing.
I inhaled deeply.
As Matt’s hands started to come down, I squeezed the trigger.
The bullet fired, parading straight towards Matt’s hands. It hit the armor on his forearm, throwing his arm away from its destination. It threw him off balance, both of his hands flying away from the man in shock. He stood still, breathing hard with his mouth parted.
I let out a breath I was holding.
But I couldn’t breathe back in.
The gun fell from my hands, and Matt finally looked at me. I couldn’t see his eyes, but his mouth twitched with recognition- and fear. I mustered as much of a smirk as I could, before I felt the final moments of my head throbbing.
I fell onto the floor, the ceiling disappearing as a black void spread across my vision. Matt screamed my name in agony, his footsteps echoing throughout my ears. I couldn’t see him.
Matt? Where are you? Where’d you go? Am I dying?
In my last moments of consciousness, I thought of him.
I hope he’s okay. It’s not his fault.
—
I gasped, sitting up straight.
My ribs shifted with the movement, a stabbing pain spreading through my torso. I winced as my hand went to the source of the pain- feeling a bandage. I ripped the blanket off of my lower half, gasping at the sight. I was wrapped in bandages around my waist, with gauze strapped onto my thigh.
There was a moment. Just a moment- of peace, of unknowing.
Before it came in waves.
The bus, getting punched and kicked repeatedly, getting shot in the thigh, shooting, fighting, Daredevil, shooting Matt-
Matt. Matthew.
I suddenly became aware of my surroundings. The bed I was in- it was Matt’s bed. I was in his loft. I relaxed subconsciously, sitting back onto the pillows. All the pillows had been put behind me, as to prop me up.
“Matthew?” I yelled into the silent apartment, my voice scratchy. My throat hurt. Along with the rest of my body.
Immediately, almost as if he was waiting for me to call him, he appeared at the open door separating his bedroom and the rest of the apartment.
He was wearing gray sweatpants, with a dark gray shirt. His red glasses were nowhere to be found, which both surprised and relieved me. I didn’t want any part of Daredevil right now. I wanted Matt.
His hair was ruffled atop of his head, with a cut across the bridge of his nose. He had tiny cuts and scrapes across his right cheekbone. His right arm was bruised in the shape of a bullet. I held my breath.
“Hey. Don’t do that.” He said sternly, lessening the distance between us. He stood at the edge of the bed, still too far away.
“Don’t do what?” I spoke out, as a whisper. I couldn’t look away from his arm.
“Don’t blame yourself. For this.” He held up his arm. “Or anything else that happened that night.” My mind was racing, but quickly quieted as he spoke the last sentence.
“That night? How long has it been?”
He swallowed, looking down before muttering, “Few days.”
I sunk even deeper into the pillows. I didn’t know what to say.
We sat in silence for a few minutes. Not a single sound in the apartment. I couldn’t even hear him breathing, which made me breathe even quieter out of nervousness. After those few minutes it started to hurt, which made me close my eyes and breathe out shakily as I waited for the pain to pass. Matt hadn’t moved from the edge of the bed, standing as still as a statue. I was too nervous to look at his face. I had no idea how he felt. Or how I felt. The air felt hesitant, anxious. Like either of us speaking might break it, letting in waves of thoughts and feelings neither of us were ready to bring to the surface.
He spoke first, after I let out another wince of pain and brought my hand to rest on my thigh. He said my name softly.
“I’m…” He shook his head, raising his head to look towards me. “I’m so sorry.”
His eyes were filled with tears, his lips raised in a pout as he tried to stop them from shaking.
“Matt, you don’t have to be sorry-” I started. He interrupted me.
“No. I lost control, I should’ve been there for you- you were bleeding out. And all- all I could do was try to kill the guy who did it? You needed me.” He yelled, a tear leaving his eye. I just listened to him, my own eyes filling with tears. He panted with a look of disbelief and sadness on his face.
“Did you kill him?” I whispered, scared of the answer. I wouldn’t know what I’d do if he said yes. Yes would mean he’s already gone. Everything he believes in, everything he is. Ruined. Because of me.
“He’s in a coma.” I should’ve felt relieved that Matt didn’t kill him, but I couldn’t help the guilt that was straining my heart.
“I should’ve just shut my mouth in the bus. I don’t know why I had to test them like that.” A tear fell from my eye. A sarcastic laugh of disbelief left his mouth. I looked at him with confusion.
“Are you listening to yourself?” He asked, his face turning from sadness to anger. My heart dropped.
“Matt, what are you-?”
“I’m the reason you’re here, most of your body wrapped in bandages to stop all of the bleeding. You were asleep for days. Days. Because of me. And you’re sitting here, feeling guilty because I almost killed him?”
“You didn’t do this.”
“You know what? I wish I would’ve killed him. I wish I would have. I would do it a thousand times over, a million times over. Just so I don’t ever have to go through hearing your heartbeat almost disappear like it did.” He yelled, panting and out of breath. Tears left his eyes, his voice cracking in pain. I was crying now. “I thought I lost you. You were unresponsive for so long. I prayed, I- I begged for Him to help you. I made a promise. A promise that if you woke up, then that would have been the last time.”
“The last time? The last time for what?”
“The last time I put you in danger like that.”
I laughed. I couldn’t help it. I was in utter disbelief at the way his mind worked. Everything about this situation was far from funny. He continued.
“People who get close to me only end up hurt. It’s what Stick told me a long time ago, and I should have listened-”
“You’re gonna let Stick, a man who crawls back here at least once a month just to argue with you because he has no one else left in his life, tell you how to live your own? Matthew, he’s a miserable and lonely old man. One that definitely has no right to go around telling people how they are supposed to be living their life.” His jaw was set, like he was ready to argue. I kept talking before he had the chance.
“I knew what I was getting into when we started dating. Hell, I was ready for it. I’m sitting here, alive and breathing.”
“Barely-”
“Nothing that happened that night was your fault. You did the right thing. Nobody was killed, and you saved everyone you could. Including me. You saved them. You saved me.”
“I should have never expected you to deal with this. This is what happens to people who get close to me. I can’t let you keep putting yourself through this.” He said matter-of-factly, sitting on the edge of the bed.
“You don’t get to make that decision, Matthew!” I yelled, sitting up straight. I couldn’t feel any pain anymore, I was too angry. “That’s my decision. Not yours. And I’m not gonna let you get yourself killed one day because you’re too stubborn to ask for help, or even let anyone get close enough to you to offer it. You’re not doing this, you’re not pushing me away. I love you and I’m not leaving.” I said sternly, inhaling deeply.
He looked down at the bed, breathing deeply and sitting still. I stared at him, looking for any kind of reaction or response. I was waiting for him to argue. If he didn’t get it, I didn’t know how I was going to make him see it from my perspective.
He sat at the edge of the bed, visibly sinking into himself. I knew he was drowning in his thoughts, in what he thought was right. He looked devastated.
I pulled the blankets off of me, moving to crawl over to him. It was extremely painful, my thigh burning as I moved while my ribs pinched my skin. I bit back my groans in pain. He opened his mouth, probably to try and stop me from moving, but I had already closed the space between us.
I threw my arms around him, hugging him so tightly that I was afraid if I loosened it he would have disappeared. I sobbed into his neck.
“Please.” I whispered.
His arms lifted from his side at the sound of my voice, one going to gently wrap around my waist, barely touching to avoid the bandages- the other going to the back of my head.
“Okay. Okay.” He whispered back, pulling away slightly to kiss the top of my head before putting his head back into my neck. I opened my eyes, inhaling his scent. One I could never get tired of.
I pulled away, looking at his face. He was smiling at me, rubbing my back soothingly. I closed the distance between us, placing my lips on his. A passionate, unhurried kiss. Our lips molded perfectly together, pressing myself into him. One of my arms went to his own, before he gently bit my lip. I moved my arm, pulling away from him and starting to apologize. He beat me to it, speaking up first.
“That’s some aim you got.”
I laughed, wrapping my arms around his neck.
“Well, we can’t all have heightened senses and a devil costume.”
He smiled at me, his hand going up to hold my face. We looked at each other for a moment, silently living in the reliving fact we were here, alive. Together.
“I love you too by the way.” He whispered, giving me a cocky grin.
“I’d hoped you hadn’t heard that.” I said, going in for another kiss.
Summary: When a camping trip with your friends goes awry and you find yourself wandering through the Washington woods alone, you meet a stranger who offers to take you in.
Warnings: 18+!!!! MINORS DNI!!! Heavy smut, oral sex (M/F receiving) rough sex, manhandling, unprotected P in V, creampie, face slapping, choking, dirty talk, fingering. Implied violence/murder, MAJOR plot twist at the end.
A/N: Happy All Hallow’s Eve!!!!! 🎃 I would be lying if I said this one shot wasn’t a product of spooky season and that ^^ picture of Hotch, courtesy of Rivka @h0tchner, so Ty for that. (Just picture him in a flannel) Also: reader is SO dumb and has 0 self preservation instincts!!
———
Frustration and anxiety swirl in your stomach at the sight of the same tree you’ve passed four times in the last hour. The autumn leaves crunch under your boots, your gear is making your neck and shoulders ache and with the sun beginning to set, there’s a chill in the air, but unlike the gentle October breeze of weeks past, this chill is biting.
This is why you hate the woods. This is why you hate camping.
You’d made it a point to stick close by your friends all weekend, making sure to keep them in your line of sight or hearing - terrified to be left alone. They’d laughed it off, joking that as a twenty-something, your fear of the woods was irrational, maybe even childish.
But the stories you’d heard growing up of bodies being buried and people walking into the wilderness only to never be heard from again fills you with caution. And if it’s one thing horror movies have taught you, it’s that it’s better to be more cautious than not.
By the time you’d finished crudely peeing behind some bushes, Emily, Morgan and JJ were gone. You’d called out their names, telling them that their ‘joke’ wasn’t funny and that they could come out now, but you were met with eerie silence. You realise now you’ve been going around in one big circle with no frame of reference for how deep in the woods you are, any landmarks or predictably - phone signal. And suddenly you don’t know which is scarier - being all alone in the woods, or not being alone in the woods at all.
The wind howls through the tree branches, the sharpness taking your breath away a little. You stumble up the hill, the ground unsteady with sludgy mud and leaves. All you can see for miles are giant trees and with the sun dipping, you feel like crying with fear, fatigue and exasperation.
Suddenly, the hair on the back of your neck stands up and although an intrepid explorer you are not, human anatomy and survival instincts tell you you’re not alone. Your eyes scan the empty spaces between the tree trunks all around you, your heartbeat thundering.
This is how it ends. Dead in a ditch in the fucking woods.
“You okay, there? You look lost.” A gruff voice says. You jump out of your skin and follow the noise to its source behind you. A tall, broad bearded man in a pair of dark wash jeans and a parka watches you quietly from afar.
He shoulders an axe in one hand which makes you want to crawl into a ball and cry but then you spot the wood tucked into his arm on his shoulder and it makes sense. You breathe a sigh of semi-relief, reaching into your pants for the pocket knife Derek had put into your kit. “Yeah. A little. I’m looking for my friends.”
You note the man doesn’t really make much eye contact, his gaze is averted for the majority of the time he speaks to you. “Where did you see them last?” He asks.
You look around in a futile attempt to gauge your direction of origin. “Honestly, I’ve no idea. I’m not too good with the woods and I’m a little directionally challenged.” You admit.
He begins to walk towards you now and your grip on your knife tightens. “Relax, I’m not going to hurt you. I have a cabin just up the ways there,” He emphasises the shoulder full of wood and tilts his chin to show you the direction of his home. “You can stay there until morning.”
“Oh, no. Thank you.”
He shrugs. “Suit yourself. But it’s getting dark out and I’m pretty sure it’s going to rain.” He says it and quickly drops his gaze.
He’s a man of few words that much you know, but you consider it for a moment. This is a man you don’t know, offering you a place to stay for the night. Every fibre of your body is telling you to stay on high alert and you will - but it’s easier to remain on high alert when you’re safe, warm, fed and preserving energy than it is out in the open.
Maybe you can catch up with Emily and Morgan in the morning, bruise them both and tell them you’re never going camping ever again.
“Would you mind terribly?” You grimace. “I don’t want to put you out.”
He shakes his head. “Of course not. Follow me.” He says, readjusting the rope around the wood and leading the way. The trail seems a little familiar, and the closer you get, you surmise that you must have passed by his cabin at least a few times in the hour you’ve been searching for your friends. You think you may have even passed it yesterday and the day before, but you can’t be sure.
After around three minutes, pellet sized rain begins to fall just like the man had predicted. Despite your outer layers, it soaks you skin deep somehow, making you shiver and fight for breath. Another seven minutes in the pouring rain and you finally clear a small hill and come to a wooden cabin that’s lit dimly from the inside by candles and sconces. It’s a welcome sight with a gable roof and a small porch where rain bounces off it.
The man, who’s name you still don’t know, hasn’t said anything since he told you to follow him, only letting out small grunts of exertion here and there when he readjusts the wood on his shoulder. He walks up the stairs and wipes his boots vigorously on the mat, toeing them off and opening the door for you. You follow his lead, thinking twice about removing the boots in case you need to make a quick getaway but he watches you expectantly and his intense gaze doesn’t leave much room to argue.
You smile politely and thank him, stepping inside, the warm air and homey smell making you shed some of your initial doubt. Your skin prickles with the temperature change as you take in the cabin, the rain only becoming a distant noise in the background now. The man walks across the main living room and into a room in the back, and you soon hear a brief rattling and thudding from him unloading the damp wood and axe.
Peeling off your outer layers is uncomfortable because the material sticks to your skin like it doesn’t want to come off. Still you do, and warm your hands in front of the fireplace, crouching in front of it, the smell of burning wood taking you back to your childhood.
The man clears his voice behind you. “You can take a shower if you like. Hot water and toiletries down the hall.” This time, you catch his gaze lingering on you, scanning down your lower back and resting on your the curve of your ass. His tongue darts out momentarily to wet his lips between his thick beard before he looks away again.
You begin to deny his offer, you’re going to strip off and shower in a strange man’s home in the middle of the woods? But the prospect of spending the night in rain-soaked clothes is more uncomfortable than you can bear. “Thanks.” You whisper, moving your hands away from the fire. His presence is commanding when you brush past him and you outstretch your hand, introducing yourself.
You should at least know his name if you’re going to use his facilities.
He takes your warm hand in his much larger, colder, calloused one. “Aaron.” He mutters roughly. You look up at him and just see a broad chest, look further up, then a little more to find his face looking down at you. He’s tall, very tall and far too broad, his shoulders wide and strong. His brown-almost-hazel eyes bore into yours under the amber light but he’s the first one to break eye contact - again.
He’s attractive. Unsettlingly so.
He clears his throat and lets go of your hand, moving over to the kitchen to start some tea while you shower. You’re still acutely aware that this is a dangerous situation, this is a man you don’t know and you’re in the middle of ass-fuck nowhere, but in a strange way, it makes your stomach turn.
Not in an anxiety-induced sickness way. In an exciting, salacious, adrenaline way. You keep your knife within reach on the small window ledge next to the shower and turn on the faucet, the steam soon rising.
You strip off, peeling away the layers of your clothes that are matted to your skin, letting them fall to the ground. Outside, Aaron comes down the hallway with one of his large shirts and a pair of boxer shorts for you to change into but stops in his tracks at the sight of the door slightly ajar. Your water-slicked, naked body is turned away from and the steam rises next to you as you stretch your neck. His gaze travels down the delicate slope of your shoulder and your back, down the curve of your ass and down the length of your exposed legs.
He remains rooted in place, his heartbeat quickening and his pants tightening, the grip on his clothes, angry. He watches you step into the stream of water and sigh in relief at the warmth, arching your neck to let the water traverse down your body. The tent in his jeans tightens but he forces himself to snap out of his trance and he leaves the clothes on the door handle.
You feel acutely aware of somebody watching you then, your skin erupting in goosebumps. You turn quickly, your eyes darting to the knife a few feet away from you and spot the new clothes in the doorway and the shadow of a very large man travelling down the hallway.
He’s watching you.
Sufficiently refreshed, warmed and clean from the shower, you pull on the t-shirt Aaron had left by the door, the smell of him engulfing you. It’s nice. Manly. A little dangerous. You go sans boxer shorts though, because when you had tried to pull them up, they’d fallen right back down and without a drawstring, wouldn’t be able to stay up. Luckily, the shirt is big enough that it covers your ass and a decent amount of thigh, so you brave it with only a pair of panties underneath.
He stands at the kitchen island steeping two cups of tea and offers you a curt smile when you greet him. You notice your bag missing from where you left it, and sensing your apprehension, he tells you it’s in the guest room. When he looks at you now, his eyes look a little more alert and he holds your gaze for slightly longer this time, eyes dipping to your hard nipples through the T-shirt and the evident lack of his boxer shorts.
It’s a little dizzying how attractive he is. Now that his parka has been removed, he stands tall in a plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up enough to see his thick forearms and the glint of a watch. You both swallow uncomfortably.
“So. How long have you lived out here?” You ask, walking over to the fireplace.
He doesn’t answer at first, and you think maybe you crossed a line - he doesn’t seem to talk much - maybe he’s one of those people who are intensely private or something. A hermit. “Ten years.” He says gruffly.
Ten years? There’s a surprising lack of photographs or tchotchkes for somebody who’s lived here for ten years.
“Why the woods?” You ask with your back to him.
“Quiet.”
Ah. Quiet. Which you are not. “I see. I’m not really much for the woods.”
“I know.”
Your brows furrow and you turn in confusion to ask what he means by that but you smack against a broad, hard chest and a determined face. When your hands come out to steady yourself on his chest, you try to pull away instantly but he wraps a large hand around each of your wrists and pins you to himself.
You try to push away again, but he’s like drowning in quicksand. The more you try to pull away, the further stuck you get. Your breathing quickens, adrenaline and a spike of fear racing though through your chest when he moves one hand to cup your cheek, his thumb softly rubbing against the skin under your eye.
He’s looking at you now, intently. “You’re beautiful.” He murmurs.
“Thank you.” Your cheeks grow warm. “Were you watching me? In the shower?”
“Can you blame me?” His voice is raspy, thick with lust and despite your better judgement and literally every alarm bell going off in your brain, it makes you damp between the legs. His thumb dips to brush over your upper lip, gently tracing your Cupid’s bow and then your lower lip, dragging it down a little.
He licks his own lips then, and you don’t know whether it’s the adrenaline, the fear, or the fact you haven’t gotten laid in months that makes you reach for his wrist and bring his fingers to your mouth. You open up, letting your tongue lay flat with his fingers on top, swirling it around them, separating them to lick the insides, before you wrap your lips around them and suck.
His fingers are thick and strong, and you suck on them with your eyes closed, imagining something a little bigger and harder in your mouth. It’s only when you hear him curse under his breath that you open your eyes and see his pupils blown in the candlelight, his mouth open, lips wet with saliva.
You release his fingers, placing a kiss on the tip of them like you would with his cock, and slowly bring them down past the t-shirt and over your panties. You both gasp when he makes contact, his cold fingers against your warm pussy making you shiver.
“You’re wet already? Just from sucking my fingers?”
“Yes.” You nod at him innocently, guiding him to rub your pussy. He does, gently, agonisingly, teasingly.
You grind down on his fingers, closing the gap between your legs and effectively trap his hand for some friction, feeling yourself dripping for him. He grabs the back of your head and crushes your lips to his, swallowing your surprised moan with a deep, dizzying kiss. His tongue hungrily collides with yours, leaving a trail of goosebumps down your spine as he kisses you again and again, his lips commanding. He pulls away with your bottom lip still in mouth.
You’re too dizzy to focus on anything other than how good you feel when he roughly yanks your underwear to the side, and rubs over your bare skin now, painfully wet and ready. You moan breathily and his free arm moves from the back of your head to around your waist, making sure you can keep upright as he rubs your clit with skilled fingers, eyes on yours.
“I’ve been waiting for this.” He mutters absent mindedly and you assume he’s talking about since the shower. Maybe before that. “Wanna get my mouth on you, taste you. Feel you shake and come on my face. You want that? Want my tongue on your pussy? Licking and sucking until you can’t breathe?”
Your breath gets stuck in your throat because Jesus, for a man that doesn’t talk much, he has a filthy mouth and it’s making you drip down your thighs. His fingers are unrelenting, rubbing tight little circles on your clit and with every stroke over you, you feel more lightheaded. He helps you ride out your orgasm, telling you to grind down on him and take it, and once the haze clears and your vision returns back to normal, he drags you roughly and throws you on the couch.
He’s on his knees immediately, pulling you down by your ankles so your ass leans off the seat, and spreads you roughly, diving right in. He doesn’t bother teasing, instead choosing to bury his face into your pussy hungrily, like he can’t get close enough. You gasp, back arching off the couch as his beard scratches and tickles the skin on your inner thighs. He licks broad stripes from your ass to your clit, a firm, hot pressure like nobody else has given you.
He wraps his forearms around the crease of your thighs and feasts, literally feasts on your pussy, drinking in everything you’ll give him with small grunts and moans. “Fuck, you taste good, so fucking sweet and soaking wet. All for me? This dripping cunt all for me?”
Your hands tangle in his hair when he draws your clit into his mouth and sucks, his spit lubricating you deliciously and dripping onto the wood floors. “Please. I’m so fucking close. Please don’t stop.”
“Yeah? You gonna come on my mouth like a desperate little slut? Take what I give you? Let me taste you and spread you open?” He sucks his middle finger and slides it into your pussy, withdraws it and repeats, sucking his middle finger this time too, before he slides it inside you. “Come on. Come for me, grind on my face.” He coaxes, pumping his fingers and licking your clit again.
You’re intoxicatingly aroused and the way he looks at you like a man frenzied throws your head for a loop. Your legs close around his head and he lets them, it only pushes him closer to you and he gladly welcomes it, using his lips and tongue to make you come. Your back and ass arch up off the couch and writhe in the air as you ride your orgasm out, white hot sparks of pleasure traversing your spine but he keeps his mouth glued to where you want him most.
He drinks you in until you whimper and push his head away. “Please.” You pant. “It’s too much. Please.”
He grins, slapping your pussy just to see you twitch. “It’s not enough. Not until I tell you you’ve had enough, and I’m nowhere near done with you yet.” He lands little slaps on your pussy again and again until you’re gasping and oversensitive, but fuck if you’re not drowning in ecstasy. “You have such a pretty little pussy.” He mutters.
He pulls you up and turns you so you face the back of the couch, your knees on the seats and he spreads your legs roughly, dragging the t shirt over your head. You hear a zipper and the sound of clothes being discarded and your heart pounds with anticipation. You reach down and wrap your hands around his cock, wanting to feel him, the weight of him in your hands and when you do, the breath leaves your lungs in a whoosh.
He’s heavy, thick, leaking precum and with only one orgasm so far - which in fairness, is more than most men can give you - you don’t know how you’ll be able to take something that big. You stroke the length of him languidly, pulling on his cock and he whispers your name breathily for the first time and your knees go weak.
“You want me inside you?” He rasps. “Want me to slide into this hot, tight little pussy and fuck you until you can’t see straight? Look at you, dripping down your thighs.” He gathers your wetness with his middle and ring finger, and angling your head to the right, slides the fingers into your mouth all the way to your throat and tells you to suck, making you gag. But he doesn’t care.
“Taste good?” You nod. “Feel dirty, tasting yourself on a stranger’s fingers? I think you like it, love being a naughty little whore for men you don’t know.” He roughly takes his fingers out of your mouth and drags them down your slit, rubbing the excess on his cock. With a hand on your lower back, he bends you over, and prods your entrance with the blunt head of his cock, burying himself deep inside you.
The position you’re in allows him deeper than you thought possible for anyone and you gasp at the sting, your nails digging into the back of his couch. “Oh my God, you’re so fucking deep, that’s so deep inside me. Oh my God… so fucking big.”
He grips your hips when you flutter around him, stilling you. “Don’t do that. Not yet. You’re so fucking tight and warm, I think I might blow my load before I really get started.” He grabs handfuls on your ass, hips, leaves the skin stinging and burning when he slaps it, the sound resounding in the room.
“Please.” You whine. “Please, just move. I wanna feel your cock moving inside me, I need it.” He slowly withdraws from inside you, almost all the way before slamming into you again, pulling your hips down hard to meet his thrusts. You’re completely at his mercy as he sets a punishing pace, slamming into you over and over again, hitting you deliciously deep.
“That feel good? That deep enough? Hm? Fuck I love this pussy, so warm and tight and wet, swallowing my cock. Take it, fucking take it.”
You bounce back on his cock too, desperate for more, for anything he’ll give you, drowning in pleasure. He fists his hand in your hair, and pulls your back flush to his still clothed stomach, one hand wrapping tight around your throat, the other pawing roughly at your breasts. He continues fucking up into you, and you whimper, seating yourself on his cock as best as you can with every thrust, drunk with ecstasy. He takes advantage of your open mouth by hooking three fingers into it as he fucks you relentlessly, your pussy enveloping him.
“That’s it. You feel so fucking good taking my cock, squeezing me like that? So hot and wet and so fucking tight, desperate to come.” He unhooks his fingers from your mouth, slapping your face lightly and God if that doesn’t turn you on even more. His hand wraps around your throat again, squeezing to restrict just enough airflow to make you breathless and hot. “Touch yourself.” He demands, his gaze fixated on you. “Rub your clit and make yourself come on my cock, I wanna feel you squeeze me tight. Come on, do it. Rub that sweet little cunt.”
Your heart pounds faster as your orgasm crests, and you bring a shaking hand down between your legs and rub your clit like he tells you. You’re soaking wet and your fingers can feel where he pounds into you. You grab onto his arm that’s wrapped around your chest for balance and rub your clit, chasing the feeling of crackling electricity and pooling warmth in the pit of your stomach.
Your legs turn to jelly when you come, trembling around him and you fumble for something to hold onto, settling for his arms to ride out your orgasm. The restricted air flow makes it more intense, and you come longer and harder than you ever have before, gasping for breath when he finally lets you go.
You grip the edge of the couch, with Aaron’s cock still buried deep inside of you, your pussy pulsing around his cock, releasing more wetness. “Good girl.” He coos, thrusting shallowly a few times before pulling out.
You turn, still on your knees to face him, eye level with his cock, covered in your wetness and his precum. You fumble with the buttons on his shirt, undoing enough so you can just slide it off him, and he’s as broad as he looks. Strong, wide shoulders and a hard chest with a generous smattering of hair across it, leading down to his pelvis.
The desperate desire to run your hands over his skin has you desperately clinging to him as you kiss him, your chests flush against each other and your arms wrap around his shoulders. His tongue massages yours, and you can taste the faintest hint of yourself on him. You sink back down to your knees and stroke his slick cock with both hands, your juices and his mixing and you’re desperate for a taste.
You suck on the tip of him first, sweetly, languidly in no real rush until his hips jerk forward with a curse of your name. “Deeper. Take it deeper, I want you to gag on my cock.”
You stick out your tongue and open your mouth as wide as you can, and wait for him to take the hint. He does quickly, gathering your hair on top of your head and slowly thrusting into your mouth, going deeper with every pass. He pushes your head down while he thrusts in, touching the back of your throat now and you fight back the urge to gag as tears prick your eyes. Spit gathers in your mouth and drips down your chin and onto your tits, so you play with them sweetly, pinching and pulling at your nipples, one hand trailing down between your legs to play with your pussy.
“Fuck yeah, keep doing that. Keep rubbing your clit, love seeing you play with yourself like the desperate fucking whore you are.”
His words send jolts of pleasure to your core and he soon sets a rhythm, brutal thrusts into your mouth as far as you’ll let him, the salty taste of him addictive. You let him use your mouth as you rub your clit to another orgasm, breathing roughly while your mouth is stuffed full of him, shuddering as your body releases for the fourth time. When he pulls away from your mouth, saliva and precum drip down your chin, chest and stomach, but he doesn’t care, taking your mouth in his with a rumble in his chest as he pulls you to your feet by your throat.
He keeps a grip on your throat while he kisses you, a clash of teeth and desperate tongues, leaving you submissive and pliant enough for him to slap your cheek gently a few times.
“Are you my slutty little girl? Are you going to come around my cock again?” You nod with wide eyes. He throws some cushions onto the floor in front of the fireplace and lays you down, spreading your legs roughly, slapping your pussy again which sends you reeling. “This pussy, so fucking wet, throbbing and desperate.” He pulls your lips apart, exposing your pussy to the air. He grins. “Look at that, clenching around nothing, so desperate for me to stuff you full of my cock? Is that you want?”
“Please.” You beg, rubbing your pussy. “Please. I need you to fill me up. Fill me up with your cock and come inside me, I wanna feel it deep in my cunt.”
He emits a sound that sounds almost like a growl, deep and rumbling in his chest, his eyes frenzied. “Good girl, keep using that mouth, you might just get what you want.” He spits on your pussy, a string of saliva trailing down from your pelvis and he catches it with his cock - taps the head of it against your clit making you jump. He sheathes himself inside you without warning, to the hilt. His pelvis and stomach rub deliciously against your clit and the weight of him on top of you is new and heavy in the best way.
You grip his strong arms as they cage your head in, his hips snapping furiously against yours as he fucks you now, spreading your legs wide. Your mouth falls open as he sets another bruising rythm, skin slapping against skin, your body shifting with each hard thrust. Expletives leave his mouth in hushed tones, whispers of praise about how your pussy feels so good gripping his cock and how he loves watching your tits bounce.
He pins your hands above your head with one of his, easily laying you out further exposed to him, while the other wraps around your throat. “That feel good? You like getting choked? Feeling like you can’t breathe while I fuck you senseless and dumb? Huh?” You nod. “Take it. Take that cock like I know you fucking can, such a good little pussy for me.”
You whine as he slams into you repeatedly, his mouth dipping and opening wide to take as much of your breast into his mouth as he can, moaning hungrily around it. He releases it by sucking on your nipple harshly, grazing it with his teeth and you’re completely and utterly immobilised, at his whim for him to use exactly as he pleases.
You can feel him start to throb inside you, your wetness creating obscene noises that echo throughout the room, mixed with breathless moans and pants. “Please.” You choke out. “Please. So fucking close, I wanna feel you. All of you. Please, give it to me.”
He kisses you again, messy, wet, sloppy but hungrily and obsessively, like you’re the air he breathes. His beard grazes your mouth and cheeks but you don’t care, moaning into his mouth with equal fervour, biting and sucking at his soft lips.
“You want me?” You nod. “You want to feel me fucking you, want me close?” He releases your throat and hands, slapping your cheek as he lowers himself down to his elbows, his weight coming down on top of you and it’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever felt in your life. He’s so big and strong and he leaves you utterly breathless, his stomach rubbing against yours, every inch of your sweaty body pressing against his but you want even more.
You wrap your legs around his thighs and take him in deeper, your arms snaking around his shoulders to pull all of him on top of you, to feel him crushing you. You can’t breathe and all five of your senses are invaded by him, all him. This new angle allows his pelvis to rub against your clit with every thrust inwards.
He loses his pace now, his hips faltering as he slams into you, deeper and deeper, his face buried in the crook of your neck, short breaths hot and heavy against your skin.
“You gonna come on my cock? Let me feel it, let me feel you squeeze me tight, make me come too. I want you to make me come so I can press deep inside your cunt and pump you full of come, make you mine.” He rasps.
“Yes. Please, I want to feel you come deep inside me. Give it to me, make me come.”
Your own breathing is shallow now too as you both chase your releases and when you tilt your hips upwards a little, he rubs against that spot inside you that makes you see stars. You dissolve into a puddle of ecstasy against him, nails scratching down his back, desperate for purchase and with a few groans of your name and one hard, deep thrust, he comes too.
He spills deep inside of you, hot come marking your walls and it prolongs your own orgasm to feel him throbbing and twitching inside you, his heart pounding against yours. After a few moments of riding out your orgasms, he pulls himself up so he’s taking his own weight and stares at your fucked out, sweaty face, matted hair and swollen lips.
He kisses you again, softer this time, his tongue massaging yours languidly and it makes your head swim. “Damn.” He mutters.
“Yeah. Damn.” You mirror, dissolving into laughter as the high takes over. You pull him back down to you to kiss him, his beard sticky and glistening with your release, but you don’t care. You can still feel him twitching inside you and you don’t know if you’ve had enough yet.
Still, he pulls out of you and pulls on his boxer shorts, leaving you dazed on the floor. He returns a few moments later with a wet washcloth and a glass of water, which he helps you drink by helping you up and then gingerly cleans you up. You get up, still on shaky legs and pull on your t-shirt, making your way down the hall.
“Where are you going?” He asks.
“Just need to grab something from my bag.” You tell him, stepping into the spare room. You scan the room for the backpack but it’s nowhere to be seen, so you open one of the sliding wardrobes and rummage for your bag. It’s only when your eyes adjust to the inside of the closet that your blood runs ice cold.
Your bag is nowhere to be found but tucked into the corner are three more bags, tainted with blood and a pair of men’s boots. You recognise the zip keyring on one of the bags straight away, a silver love heart with a monogrammed ‘JJ’. The bags are Emily’s, JJ’s and Derek’s - the boots are his too.
Your throat begins to close up as panic rises in your chest and you turn when you feel the presence of someone behind you. Your breathing becomes erratic and your chest tightens, hands going clammy.
“You. You… did you…” You swallow. You can’t even say the words.
“I was hoping you wouldn’t see that.” He says evenly, holding your gaze, but yours falls to the axe in his hand.
“No. No, tell me you didn’t…”
It’s futile.
He grins darkly. “How else was I meant to get you alone?”
Summary: Din always cums inside of you. No exceptions. You never really understood why until now...
Rating: Explicit (18+ only)
Warnings: Fem!reader, darkish Din?, innocent reader, p0rn with very little plot, ✨breeding kink✨, dom!din 😈 , established relationship, fingering, unprotected piv sex, degradation, no use of y/n
AN: The horny demon has possessed me again👻. but breeding kink is always activated when it comes to dindin tbh. Writing this made me 🌊 whoops🤰🏻
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Din always cums inside you. Always. No exceptions. Even when you would suck his dick he would never finish in your mouth. He would stop and manhandle you onto the nearest surface (sometimes the floor) so he could pump his cum inside you. It was all practice for the day he would finally fuck you with a purpose. To make new life.
When that day came there would be no implant stopping him. Din knew he would fill you over and over until his seed took and then keep fucking you through your pregnancy as your body swelled. Just the thought of breeding you would unleash dark thoughts in his head. It wasn't just the act that got him excited, it ran deeper than that. Though you had only been intimate for a little while, Din knew you were his soulmate. He felt a primal and romantic desire to cement his devotion inside you.
Din had given you an old holopad with the scripture of the Mandalore so you could learn more about his culture. You were fascinated by the section relating to fertility and breeding. It was quite detailed as copulation was central to the survival of the culture and continuation of ones clan. You actually learned a lot about your own anatomy as you were fairly inexperienced before meeting Din. You couldn’t help but shift in your seat as you read some of the descriptions of positions and toys used. You thought it was odd Din never mentioned this part of his culture when it was so important. He had shown you his face. Wasn’t breeding the next step mandated by the creed? You couldn’t help but feel a little rejection, assuming that his silence meant he didn’t want that next step with you.
Of course, you didn't know that after you went to sleep Din would check your reading statistics relishing how you spent the most time reading the breeding section. You didn't know he saw you in the fresher weighing your breasts and caressing your stomach in front of the mirror like you were already carrying his baby. It took everything in his power that day not to rip out that implant and breed you then and there. He was determined to make the first breeding special, but every day his restraint grew weaker. He nearly lost it at the last fuel stop when he saw you kindly braiding a little girl's hair. In his dark thoughts, he knew he had ran out of ways to tell you he loved you. He needed to show it by marking you permanently.
Oblivious to his inner thoughts, you continued to be worried by Din's continued silence. You were too shy to outright ask him why he hadn't fucked a baby in you yet. Instead, you asked him if you should get your implant replaced as it was nearing time. He said yes, which only worsened your insecurities. You left in a huff, going to the nearest healer at the next fuel stop.
"Where were you, ad’ika?” Din demanded as soon as you came back to the Razor Crest. You were an hour late from when he said to meet back.
“I was getting my implant replaced, like you told me to do.” You couldn't help but let some of your annoyance color your tone.
“Your implant..?” It clicked when you held up your bandaged arm. “Oh.”
“Problem is…” You walked past him into the crest. “They didn’t have any replacements so in the mean time you’re going to have to pull out or something…” You said nervously.
“That’s not going to happen.” Din growled lowly. He closed the hatch door stalking over to you. “I only cum inside your little pussy. You think I’m going to stop just because you took out the implant?” He tilted his helmet at you. The hour spent worrying about where you were made him sound angrier than he really was.
“But-" Your eyes widened. “I’ll get pregnant, Din.”
“Yes, cyar’ika.” Din purred feeling blood rush between his legs.
“I’m confused.” You looked up into the black void of his visor. “You told me to get the implant and so I thought you didn’t want to-with me-” You felt your voice climb higher in your distress.
“Silly girl…” Din tugged you into his chest. “I was trying to wait until we found a place to settle down.” He smiled at your look of surprise. He pulled off his helmet, his eyes finding yours.
"Really?" You felt yourself relax a little now that you could see his face. You thought it was sweet that he planned on waiting for the right time.
"Really." He caressed your face gently with his leather covered fingers. "I choose you in all things. I want you to bear my children. But do you want that, mesh'la?"
"I do." You replied in a soft voice.
“Then I guess I’m going to have to breed you a little earlier than I planned…”
You gulped feeling a heavy tug in your lower stomach.
“On the bed, cyar’ika.” He ordered, his voice growing huskier.
“Now?” You asked incredulously.
“Right now.” Din nodded his eyes lit up with excitement and determination. Now that he knew you were vulnerable and wanting, he wasn’t going to waste any time.
“But the implant will be in my system for another few days.”
“You sure about that?” Din smirked.
You shivered slightly feeling yourself grow wet. From either his excitement or your own, you were not sure. You walked to his small bunk and sat on the thin mattress. Your heart was starting to race. You tried to remember the various pieces of advice from the scripture but it was hard when Din was staring at you like he was going to consume you.
“There’s no need to be nervous, my love.” He kneeled before you, tilting your face towards his. “You were made for this.” His smooth voice calmed your nerves.
“I just- I want it to work.” You admitted.
“Kriff.” Din groaned. You were riling him up and you didn’t even know. “It will work. I’ll make it work. You just be your perfect self.” He leaned forward and kissed you softly, loving how you melted against him.
You had always given him your full trust but now it was so much more than that. He had your body entirely. Soon his claim on you would not be purely sentimental. It would be physical. While he knew you loved him, he still felt his cock ache at the thought of further tying you to him forever. Keeping you bred constantly so you'd never leave his side.
“Take my armor off, ad’ika.” Din murmured. You swallowed hard, reaching up with shaking hands and slowly removed his chest plate, his paldrons, piece by piece exposing him to you. It was sacred to touch his armor and even more special to remove it. You handled each piece gently, setting them on the ground in an orderly fashion. As you reached his flight suit you saw he was throbbing under his pants. You could feel the warmth emanating from his cock. You looked up at him through your lashes, waiting for your next instruction. “Take off my clothes now.” You nodded, stripping down his flight suit to his under layers. You pulled his gloves off one by one. Then you pulled his shirt off, smiling as his bare chest was revealed covered in scars you had memorized. Din looked perfectly content. Patient. When you reached his waistband, some of that patience slipped. He stepped out of his pants kicking them to the side. You honed in on his cock bobbing between you two. He had never given you such power before: to be fully clothed while he is bare.
“Now me, please.” You held your arms out for him to remove your shirt.
“You have to do it yourself, ad’ika." Din shook his head. "You have to show me that you give me permission.” You felt your cheeks heat up and some fight rise up in you. You were so used to him taking care of everything. “This is the way.” Din added with a stroke of your cheek.
You were much less coordinated with your own disrobing, pulling off your shirt and pants off almost at the same time, leaving them tangled up on the floor. You unclipped your chest band and shimmied off your panties. The cold air of the ship barely affected you as you were so worked up already. You were already so wet, like your body knew this time was different.
“Eager girl. So eager.” Din whispered to himself finally putting his hands on your naked thighs.
You laid back on the mattress, spreading your legs but Din doesn't touch you yet.
“I need you to ask for it.” He asked, voice tight. Restraint slipping.
“Please fuck me.” You answered automatically.
“No, ad’ika… ask for it.” He repeated.
Your mouth went dry finally understanding what he was implying. “Please breed me.”
At that request, he was on you in a second. He kissed you hard and passionately, his scruff burning your soft skin. His rough tongue filling your mouth. His fingers entering your wet opening without warning. No layers lay between as his body covered yours. You grabbed his cock as it lay near your hip feeling the precum slide through your fist. His appreciable length meant more now than just increased pleasure.
“Were they really out of replacements, ad'ika?” He taunted as he thrust his finger into you “Or were you just so greedy to be bred that you forced my hand.”
“They-“ you gasped into his mouth. “They were.”
“I’ll believe you but your pussy is saying something different.” Din chuckled rubbing your clit now with his other hand. “She doesn’t care if we’re on a nice planet or if the timing is right. She just wants to be bred now.” He pulled your nipple between his lips.
“Din!” You cried feeling your orgasm creep up on you.
“Cum on my fingers, ad'ika. I need this cunt to get nice a wet for me.”
“I’m-Oh Maker!” The wave of your pleasure peaked and then crashed over you, making you twitch below him. You could feel your pussy spasming around his fingers. You heard his grunt of approval. He pulled his fingers back and licked the cum from them. He could swear it tasted sweeter this time. Your vision cleared as he lined himself up with your still fluttering entrance and pressed in. He hissed as your hot walls squeezed his length all the way to the base. The sensation was all the more intoxicating to him because he knew you were unprotected.
“Stars this pussy...“ Din sighed pulling your legs around his waist thrusting harder now. "You were made for this, cyar'ika."
He had spent many nights after you had fallen asleep thinking about how he would breed you but none of those thoughts compared to the real thing. Your pussy was always better than anything he could ever dream of and he was about to make it even better.
“Din.” You moaned breathily beneath him not every sure what you were moaning about. Just how perfect he felt. He laced his hands with yours above your head as he fell into his usual hard rhythm. His determined eyes were trained on where your bodies were joined. The sound of his grunting and growling rolled over you in delicious waves. All you could do was answer them with your own cries. You felt your eyes start to roll back as he found that perfect spot. His noises the only thing keeping you from drowning in the pleasure.
“I can’t wait to see you pregnant with our child“ Din moaned, looking down at you. "You'll look so kriffing beautiful."
You agreed. You felt a surge of affection for the man fucking you. From the beginning all you wanted was to ease his scars, bring him happiness, and now you wanted to give him a family. It was your purpose. You placed a hand on his chest feeling his heart beat through his sweat coated skin. “Please." you whimpered. "I want to give you everything you want.” You kissed him as deeply as you could from this angle.
“Kriffing hell...” Din pinned you down to the bed using one hand to hold your neck down and the other to grab your hip and pull you up against him. Your hands gripped the thin sheet for leverage to help meet his every thrust. You felt weightless under his man handling. Your moans sounded tighter and more high pitched with his hand around your throat.
He had fucked you in this position many times before but it felt different today. He was harsher. Like he was after his own pleasure. Like the love was gone but you knew it was really stronger than ever. It was the deep root of the passion, the fire behind the purpose. You fucking loved it. You loved the sight of him, powerful above you, executing your shared purpose so beautifully.
He was nearly pulling all the way out and slamming back in with every thrust now. His balls slapped against you. The sound of skin hitting skin filled the air. His chest broke out into a light sweat, his thick neck strained as he clenched his jaw. His grunting became louder and lewder. He was trying to mold you to his cock and only his cock. Kissing your cervix every time. You gushed around him knowing he was using you to get himself off. Knowing he was breeding you.
“Good girl cyar'ika, taking your breeding. You like it when I put you in your place?” He panted, squeezing your neck to get your attention. He was looking down at you, his eyes molten.
“Yes!” You cried breathlessly.
“Because you're my little breeding slut?”
“Yes!" You nodded frantically. You didn't even care about the degrading term because you were his breeding slut right now and that was exactly what you wanted. Din shifted his weight forward, his gruff voice right against your ear now.
“No one else will have you, ner cyar’ika. As long as I live. I would kill a hundred men for this pussy. A thousand.” He snarled into your ear. “My” thrust “perfect” thrust “pussy” and then in a choked gasp he growled, “Say it. Tell me who this pussy belongs to.” He squeezed your neck again.
“You- Din! This” you squealed. “I b-belong to you.” You could feel your body react to your admission. Opening up more somehow. Din grazed a spot deep that made you gasp. “Din, I’m gonna-“ he hit it again this time dragging his cock head hard into it. You hadn’t realized you were that close but you were cumming again. Mouth open in a silent scream. Toes curling. Ass clenching as your hips jerked up. It was too much. Din's hands flew to your hips to keep himself inside you. You felt your body melt and reform then melt again. Your pussy was squeezing him like a vice, milking his length.
"Beg me." Din said urgently, holding your face, making you look him in the eye while he kept pounding you. His purposeful rhythm starting to break down in desperation. "Beg for my seed.”
"Please...I want it." You whispered, tightening your legs around his back and digging your nails into his back.
“I’m going to fill you up.” Din promised with his whole soul. “Right against your womb. Where it belongs.”
"Please..." You needed it. You needed it. You were his breeding slut at this moment, cock dumb and willing beneath him. You loved him so much you let him reduce you to your base instinct, your base purpose. Your body was fertile and you were powerless to stop what was about to happen. Fuck, you wouldn’t dream of stopping it.
At your final plea, Din felt his cock twitch and then suddenly his vision went white as his orgasm shot down his spine. His hips snapped forward instinctively causing him to shoot cum deep into you. His mouth fell open in pleasure. “F-fuck…” His back tightened and stance widened making his whole body coordinate to serve only one purpose: to push his cum as deep as possible. You whined, clenching weakly and watching the pleasure you gave him consume him. Watched as everything his body had to offer, his purpose, flowed into you. Spurt after spurt.
Din pulled back, his wet flesh dragging against your hot walls. “Take it all.” He prayed, slamming into you again to the hilt. He was still cumming inside you. His balls, dripping with your combined slick, pressed right against your ass. He ground himself into you trying to deliver every last drop from his aching spent cock. You imagined what his seed must look like right now, pooling at your cervix and spilling into your womb. Taking hold. Joining with you. It was a new level of intimacy that you knew you wouldn't be able to go without ever again.
The white noise in Din's ears faded as he drifted back to reality. He placed his hands on your stomach as if he could feel his cum inside you. He pulled out. Too soon, you thought.
“I don’t want to see a drop spill out, ad’ika.” Din kissed you sweetly, though his tone was far more commanding.
You clenched your sore muscles and tilted your ass up further to keep any of his cum from sliding out, still you felt some leaking out of your pussy.
“It's falling out!” You warned, your voice hoarse.
“We can’t have that.” Din growled using his finger to collect it and shove it back in your still fluttering hole. He kept his finger in like a plug. He fell down next to you keeping a hand on your stomach as if he was already protecting the child that would grow there.
“Thank you for choosing me.” He kissed you slowly. He wanted the first time to be special and it was. You didn’t need a fancy bed or pretty clothes. You just needed him.
“Mmm I think it worked, Din.” You sighed, joining his hand over your stomach.
“Oh my sweet ad’ika” Din smiled at your innocence. “This is just the beginning."
He started moving his finger in and out of you. Just wait until you see the breeding plug and collar he got made just for you...
