Red Windows {Cloud Strife X Reader}

Red Windows {Cloud Strife x Reader}

I've been gone for a long while working on like, 10 different drafts on and off while also managing life (it's stressful rn, ngl) but let's get to a different thing I wanted to do (so I have more stuff to work on :3)

Considering Spotify wrapped was released a bit ago, I will work on OneShots based on my wrapped, they're gonna be smaller though, since I'm trying to rekindle my passion for writing. Also, of course, I keep my right to skip any song, the only songs I 100% will do are song in my top 5, also song I already based a OneShot off do not get a second one unless i want to. Anyways, I know I ALREADY wrote something with this song, but I'm gonna be honest... I hate it. So let's change that! (this one is a lot better but I still don't like it, anywho)

First up:

The music in the club was loud, nearly deafening as you sat down near the bar, your drink right in front of you. The main lights were dimmed, wildly coloured spotlights roaming on an automated path through the room, some device near the ceiling creating a colour-changing star pattern on the floor. There was a dance floor at the farthest wall, even though most people just danced wherever they wanted to. The barkeeper was rushing around behind the bar, due to some misfortune, all alone this evening.

Taking another sip of your drink, you watched the crowd. It all seemed to blur together, like it was all distant, until you looked back at your drink, the liquid a light blue hue due to whatever juice the mocktail was mixed with. Some people were obviously singing along with the music, their voice drowned out by the bass running through you body, shaking the floor and glasses. Watching over the crowd, your eye got caught on multiple couples, some just looking great, some dancing in a ridiculous manner, others getting a tad bit too handsy. Adverting your gaze again, you downed your drink, ready to leave. It hadn't even been your idea to come here, and yet he was the one who was late.

You made your way to the barkeeper, sliding the money over you owed them, some additional dollars added, as you left. You bid the guard near the exit goodbye, wishing him a good day and leaving the estate, going up the stairs to ground level. Immediately, there was a big commotion, two people arguing about something. It was definitely the guy who checked everyone and gave them the bracelet, arguing with someone about their ID. You pulled out your phone, while walking up, already pulling up the chat with your date, writing only a meager "I'm leaving, thanks for the heads-up" and sending it. You pocketed your phone and looked towards the commotion, stopping dead in your tracks.

"Please, I swear I'm 18, how else would I have a Tattoo? I really just forgot my ID, doesn't my driver's license prove enough?!" But the Guard was unyielding, despite his logic being flawed, still denying the blonde entry. The blonde with the unique hairstyle and the striking outfit you had been looking out for all night. A blonde with a tattoo on his lower arm. It were too many similarities to be a coincidence, especially after he begged to just talk to his date waiting inside, since his phone died. You went up to him then, tapping him on the shoulder. "Cloud?" The blonde turned around, dressed in a loose, white button-up without a tie, a bit messy on his figure, yet still charming, paired with grey dress pants and black dress shoes.

He was confused, not immediately recognizing you, taking a few seconds to register. "I'm sorry, I swear I would have been here on time, but I was in such a rush I forgot my ID at home and-" you smiled, stopping him with a hand hold up "I heard, it's okay. Let's just do this another day" Cloud seemed a bit defeated, before he perked up. "Wait, uh- I... I know a place we could go, if.. if you still want to?" You blinked a few times, debating. "Sure, are you driving?" He nodded, leading you to his vehicle. You didn't know what you expected, maybe something like a car, definitely not a motorbike, though. With a bit of help from him, you got on, before he gave you a spare helmet and his riding jacket, which you happily accepted. You could tell he was a lot more careful when riding, a lot more tense. Maybe he didn't want to scare you? It was kind of cute really. And your hands felt warm thanks to his body heat, which made you wonder just how warm he was when he wasn't subjected to cold evening air. Shrugging that thought aside was probably a bad idea, considering you could just feel his muscles under the shirt, now the only thing your mind focused on. They weren't rock-hard, still a bit squishy and you hoped to god he hadn't noticed when your fingers dug into his flesh a bit, or, if he noticed, that he thought it was because of the motorcycle.

The Place you two ended up at looked nothing like the club he had chosen originally. It was a bit run down, made of wood and looked a bit messy with the string lights and the huge sign reading Seventh Heaven. Cloud let you get off the bike first, then parked it and turned to you with an apologetic look. "I know it's nothing like we planned and definitely not what you thought, if you want to leave-" you smiled and cut into his words. "It's okay, it doesn't matter where we eat or drink, we wanted to get to know each other, one as long as it's good i don't mind." He smiled. "It's the best, even if it looks a bit sketchy" You gave him back his Jacket and he packed away everything, before offering you his arm. You took his hand and he led the way, up the stairs and through the double doors. There was a woman behind the counter, gorgeous, and she already looked tough from a bit away. She looked up and surprise crossed her face. "Cloud?" She then looked at you, and before she even asked who you were she seemed to already know, instead asking what had happened for you two to end up here instead of the 'fancy' place that was the original plan.

The bar was empty, but it looked clean and lived in, loved even. Cloud didn't hesitate, striding to the counter and sitting down after you. He let you introduce each other, before he explained that she was a childhood friend who had already helped him many times in various situations. She was nice, saying she'd even give you two something to eat, as you and Cloud started your date. "So, childhood friends?" He nodded simply. "Yeah. Tifa and I have been... Through a lot of complicated-" he paused, for a minute. "It's not like we even dated, god no" he blushed at that thought. Embarrassed. "It's just a lot of complicated things we've experienced together." You smiled cheekily, sipping on the drink in front of you, shimmering just as blue as Cloud's eyes and resting you head on you hand, before you teased "So she's no one I should worry about?"

He sputtered, nearly choking on his drink, as he rushed to reassure you, while you simply chuckled. "Don't worry, I know how it is. It's good to have such a close friend, really." Your date smiled then, a small smile but it was there. "Yeah. I don't have many friends, admittedly. You don't really make a lot of friends when you have my last and my job and... Well, I've been alone a lot. Tifa was there when I needed her and I got some real good friends afterwards as well. They're good friends, all of them"

Cloud was always very vague about his job and past, but you didn't mind. It was not your place to pry. Not yet, anyways. Maybe someday... You looked at his glass, the drink a ruby red, so clear and vibrant it nearly looked like it was a crystal itself. "So, I know people always wonder, so, did you already have a girlfriend?" He pondered. "I wouldn't call her that. She was a very close friend but it was never more, even if the lines blurred sometimes." There was another faint blush. God, you just loved the way his cheek turned a light pink. "We're still close friends. You'll probably meet her some day."

You chuckled then, "Some day, huh? Looking to repeat today even before it got really started?" His cheeks turned even brighter, and he stammered a bit, definitely flustered beyond compare now. "It's not- I- I didn't mean that, it just slipped out." You laughed, and patted him on the arm. "Think about what you say better, next time" Next time. Some day. A promise of another meeting. Even if he failed to meet you on time. Even if it wasn't the best date ever or ideal or anything like it, you got to know him well. Probably even better than you would originally have, and there was just something about him. Those really bright blue eyes and the blonde hair and the soft, light paper skin had caught your attention. Paired with his tougher build, you didn't know what to expect, but he was a perfect mix of both.

"I have dated a few before. The best relationship I had was probably with a girl from a different neighbourhood, a poor one. My parents didn't approve, but she was the sweetest girl ever." You explained. "We broke it off because we realised we didn't click like that, and we stayed friends as well." His eyes rested on you, studying you. You looked back at him and smiled sweetly. "You know, every time I look at you, I have one thought in mind: pretty. How can you actually be so beautiful?" He blushed at your words, scrambling for words yet again and looking away. "It's weird how you can't handle compliments. Surely, you must have gotten these a few times, no?" He shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. I just... Never cared about the person saying it." "Awe, so you care about me already? It's our first date, and you're already falling for me."

In a flurry of braveness, he looked you dead in the eyes, "what if I am?" Dear Lord, you nearly felt your soul leave your body, this man had really no idea what he was doing, nearly killing you like that. You stayed silent, air whipped out of your lungs and thoughts racing through your brain, too fast to grasp. And then a whisper: "That wouldn't be a bad thing" Both of you blushed, and the evening went on. A small homely meal later, a few drinks in your system, your arm religiously brushed against his, your shoe bumping against his chair more often than before, sitting closer together now as well. You laughed and you ate and you drank. Then he had to stop, still wanting to be able to drive home. You decided to call it a night, a sense of uncertainty washing over you two.

You didn't want to push it. It had been a really fun night. He fumbled nearly every step along the way, but still managed to make it even better than expected. When you went to the bathroom, you took a pen and a piece of a bill that you left in your pocket and scribbled down your number on it, folding it. Considering he hadn't asked for your number and simply did everything via the app you two met over, you figured maybe this would push him in the right direction without pushing too far.

You returned to the counter, tapping Cloud on the shoulder. "We should probably call it a night. I have to work tomorrow, and you can't drink anymore because you need to drive, so I'd say this is a fairly good place to stop." He looked at you, from his sitting position, for a second, before he stood up. "Yeah, you're probably right. Do you want me to drive you home, or is that too soon?" You shook your head. "A little bit too soon, Cloud." You bid your goodbye to Tifa before returning to Clouds bike. "Don't worry about me getting home. I'll have a friend pick me up in a few minutes. On another note... I really had fun tonight. Somehow, even when it first looked like you had just ditched me, you made it... Probably my best date ever. Thank you for that. You leaned up to kiss him on the cheek, and handed him the paper.

"Call me if you want it throw it away if you don't. I hope I'll see you again?" He smiled again then, leaning down a bit. Your faces were so goddamn close, mouths nearly touching. "You definitely will" and then he kissed your forehead and smiled as he drove off. You look back at the bar. Tifa standing in the double doors and shaking her head, smiling. He still had to work on some of his etiquette, but he was doing really well. And you? You simply smiled, a giddy feeling in your chest, while the corners of your mouth refused to lower even an inch.

(I don't) wish you the worst (Eustass Kid X AFAB!Reader)

Halloween is tonight, and after pestering your Best Friend Kid for long enough, you had managed to get him to at least dress up with you - you were a bit embarrassed about the basic topic - Angel and Demon - but that was now the least of your concerns, when you stood in the bathroom of Kid's house and looked at the white costume with bloodstains on it. Damned be your frequent nosebleeds and the fact you didn't take anything spare with you. What a shame it would be for Kid to see you like this, right?

NSFW below

Not Beta-Read, we die like Marines.

I don't use warnings lightly, so be warned. This one is focused on drunk sex. The Reader and Kid are both drunk. The Reader falls unconscious multiple times during intercourse without Kid stopping. It is only for a few seconds each time, but there is heavily discussed material of the effects of Alcohol, such as numbness, the increased intensity of touch, colours and the inability to think correctly. The Reader is technically not in a state of mind for such a decision, but neither is Kid. Warnings for Haemotolagnia, rather known as a blood fetish? Mentions of choking. If you are uncomfortable, leave. I will build in a possibility to skip over the Smut, but please, if this is not your thing, keep scrolling. This is a serious topic. Ƹ̵̡⁠Ӝ̵̨̄⁠Ʒ For the Alcohol-effect cut, ◖⁠⚆⁠ᴥ⁠⚆⁠◗ for the Smut cut

It had already been a Surprise to you, that Kid even accepted to host a Halloween Party - especially at his house, since he really dreaded cleaning it up, but getting him to dress up with you in a partner look? Most definitely unexpected.

He had been fairly stubborn however, insisting on his topic of Pirate King and Queen, when you told him, that that was cool but just too overplayed for the red head, considering that was his childhood go-to costume.

You had looked up some costumes and ended up comissioning one for him, since he never seemed to like the ones you looked up to buy - and you couldn't sow at all, so you never really saw his costume, until he entered the living room with two Bitburger Beer in hand, after you had let yourself in.

The thing was, you had a crush on your best friend for a long while, way too long for it to still be a complete secret - Killer and Heat knew, while Wire suspected something. The only clueless one was Kid, but you knew, based on the years of accompanying him, that he didn't do relationships, or, if he did, they were purely physical and didn't last long. But you weren't that type of person, and instead of ruining your friendship with him you had just decided to get over him.

But now, seeing him near bare-chested, four black straps connecting right underneath the meeting point if his way too well toned pecs, golden metal ring, undoubtedly being cold, with the fur coat and the black horns nearly sprouting out of his tulip-like hair, pants tighter than Kid used to wear, you just couldn't deny your crush. It was still there, and it was currently boiling tea to throw it in your face. And it worked. You were flabbergasted as you accepted the beer, opening it with your teeth.

He was your demon, at least for one Halloween, and you were his angel, at least for one Halloween. You hoped it would be enough. You also had opted for something more revealing, not too extreme, but definitely sluttier than what you normally wore: white shorts, showing the bottom half of your round ass cheeks, as well as a white, bigger sheer white shirt, messily and only partially tugged into the pants, a white tank top underneath. You had some gold accessories and white feathers as earrings to symbolise the wings.

You were still waiting for another girl of the group, she had just gotten her PhD, and thus would arrive a bit late, but would definitely come over, until then you'd talk and drink a bit. The conversation with the boys usually turned out to go one if two ways: Something with Violence, or something dirty. Those were just their interests and neither you, nor Adission, the other one, minded one bit, they were just very entertaining to listen and to add to.

This time was no different, swaying from the topic of waiting, to the topic of work, to the topic of guns and the specific new models. You supposed this was normal for soldiers in the Military and one that runs a gun shop.

When Adission arrived, Kid layed out some music and the party started - with Mario Kart, because of course it would, it was a great game! Wire was the undefeated champion though and kicked everyone's butts. Next in the Table was Mario Party 8, old but gold, you and Adission Teaming up, as well as Kid and Heat and Wire and Killer. It was a wild ride, with lots of curses, but Killers foresight was something to behold - and the duo's skill in Mario games. The evening continued with little games. A buffet and lots of alcohol.

Maybe that was what landed you in this place. You had simply sneezed once and had felt the thick liquid slowly making it's way down the inside of your nose, when you quickly threw the controller at Killer, a Sto not lose this match of Smash against Kid, holding out a hand under your nose, tipping your head forward, hunching über a little and running to the bathroom with a quick "Fuck"

No chance though, the time it had cost you to get past Wire, Heat and Adission, had soaked your white shirt, where most of the blood had dropped. Even staining your tank top. Great. Today if all days, fitting, you thought with a butter taste in your mouth. Both, from the blood and from the Irony. You washed your hands, while your nose was still running, not liking the feeling of drying blood on your hands.

After round about five minutes your bleeding had stopped, your face and sink were both clean, only thing missing was leaning your clothes. That however, didn't work. ou tried, in hopes it might work this once, but as expected you only smeared the blood further. Devasted, you looked into the mirror, trying to figure a way out if this mess. Your phone was with your friends, you couldn't go to your friends, because of, well.. Kid.

It's not like you were embarrassed, everyone knew about your frequent nosebleeds, that was no secret. The Problem behind this was, that Kid had haemotolangia. He got turned on by blood. And it wasn't like it's small, like it would only arouse him on a naked body, if there was blood, it made him run hit, but if it popped? You avoided such a situation once before, when he told you about it, because you had cut your finger and wanted to change the Bandaid.

This was more than the finger.

This wouldn't go as lucky, you suspected.

You could try to avoid Kid seeing this? Maybe you could lend some clothes, if they would fit? Just when you made a decision to open the door and call out to Adission for help, there was a loud, banging Knick in the door. Even before he spoke you knew it was Kid "Aye, Angel. You okay in there? You've been gone for a solid 10 minutes." You huffed. "Kid, I can't come out right now"

"You need Pads? I have some in the upper left drawer." You stopped. "You have Pads?" "Yeah, for Emergencies." "Huh." Silence. "You gonna come out now?" "Kid I can't, I have Blood everywhere." "Are you okay?" "No?" It was more of a hopeful and confused question instead of an answer, but apparently enough for Kid to try to break open the door. "You're not okay, I'm coming in." Apparently he himself had forgotten his condition, because when you opened the door to genuinely stop him from breaking his own door, he stopped dead in his tracks, gaze falling on the red stains.

"Fuck"

You very much agreed. Fuck indeed.

His gaze seemed to darken, and you stepped forwards a bit. "Kid, do you have anything to spare?" His Eyes were still fixated in the blood, clinging to the red drops, the way it had smeared into a pink, slowly fading away into nothingness. You noticed he was way too out of it, so you stepped closer, touching his fur. "Kid? Just let me through and I'll ask the others" With the slightest push of your hand, he followed. You turned him sideways, passing by him without any effort. You reached the living room no problem, Kid staying behind in the position you left him in, only his eyes following your every move, his head tilting slightly when he couldn't trace you with his eyes alone anymore.

And then you were out of view.

Killer immediately sat straight, already knowing what probably had conspired, his character on screen stopping. Heat turned to you as well and stopped, his glass mid-air. "Does someone have some clothes I can burrow? Don't give me anything that can't get dirty though, my Nose will be having a field day today, I can tell." Killer got up, mentioning he might have something, taking you to his room with you - the boys lived together, so that was really fortunate.

He didn't have anything that was good though. He left for a second and came back with the biggest shirt you had ever seen. It was white, with a band logo on the front. You recognised it. Kid's.You stopped, thinking for a second. You would get a nosebleed again, you were sure. And if you weren't sure, you had to expect the shirt getting bloody either way. You accepted though, retreating to Killers room to change - no way you wanted to face Kid like this again.

Kid came back to the group roughly 10 minutes after you rejoined them. You knew what he had done and you would pointedly ignore it. He was determined to do the same, unlike Wire, who teased him quietly - so quiet you couldn't hear, but Kids reaction was more than enough answer for you. You really didn't know how to feel about this, after all it really was just Kid's weird and.. well, just weird - fetish, not like it had anything to do with you as a person. But somehow you also enjoyed the thought. Your crush doing... That to the thought of you? Like you had been to the thought of him? You stopped yourself before your thoughts would drift away.

The evening went by fairly quickly, hours passing like minutes, 1 am coming and going, reaching 2 am and suddenly it was already 3 in the morning. You grew tired, sleepy, the bottles of various kinds of alcohol that had already been emptied filling the table, some random music running in the back, Playlists long abandoned. Admission was nearly falling asleep, so Heat decided to let her have his room, and share with Wire for the night. You'd have to do the same. Which room though, still had to be decided. Killer was starting to clean some of the bottles, you helping him, while Adission groggily sauntered towards Heats room. Him and the other two boys were still participating in some drinking game.

The first one of them to give up was Wire, conceding in order to not throw up on the couch. It was an interesting match to watch, but it had been clear as day that Kid would be the one to win. And win he did, with roaring laughter and a small victory pose with his halfway drunken bottle, Heat struggling to get up to finally go to the toilet, after hours of holding it in.

Slowly but surely everyone went to bed. Kid had decided you could sleep in his room, he would sleep with Killer or on the couch, depending on the available space. Kid was a big man and he needed a lot of space. To be fair, all of the men in this household were.

Ƹ̵̡⁠Ӝ̵̨̄⁠Ʒ

So you and Kid were brushing your teeth, the way too big shirt of him, you reminded yourself, still hanging loosely on you relatively small frame. You finished up, waiting for Kid to finish as well. You yawned, the alcohol slowly getting to you - you hadn't drank as much as the others, but some stuff, you favourite liquor, that had been gone in less then a few seconds - downed by you. So you definitely weren't sober either, which you really started to notice, when Kid's golden eyes seemed to shine just a little brighter and sharper, when his red coat seemed more fluffy and bug and when his red hair looked so, so, oh so bright that it nearly hurt your eyes. Or was that the lights in the room? You weren't sure. You couldn't tell.

What you could however tell, was the way that Kid bended over the sink, spitting out the remains of his toothbrushing, gurgling some water and spitting that out as well, was hot. Hot in a way you would have probably never thought sober. He reached for the cabinet, slightly swaying while doing so, taking out some makeup remover and tissues. He started furiously rubbing his face, his shade turning just a tad bit more pink where he is rub the makeup off. His messy hair was still held back by the horns. And you don't know what came over your drunken mind, when you kneeled on the toilet you were sitting on, reaching for the closest horn and taking it off. It was a simple hair clip.

You placed it to the side, reaching for the other one, nearly tipping over and only being fought by Kid, Face hitting his shoulder, arm wrapped tight around you. "Careful Angel, wouldn't want you to-" his smug, cheeky grin disappeared when you looked up at him, that gaze from the earlier incident returning. You couldn't piece together why. He pushed you back onto your knees, tearing his eyes away. His rubs got more violent, and then you saw the red spot on his shoulder, the way it trickled down the front and side of his arm, following his toned build and setting the dark coat he was wearing.

You looked down, blood dripping onto the white shirt. You held your hand under your nose, realizing after the first drop hit you hand that you were bleeding again. Kid didn't leave. You didn't leave. You held you head over the sink, letting it drop, coating the blueish stone turning a deep red. Kid stopped, face halfway done. His eyes fixated on you, the way the red dropped from the tip of your nose. He put the tissue aside, after forcing himself to move, getting another one, soaking it in cold water an puttingbit on your neck to cool down the blood and make it stop faster.

You washed the blood from your hand, starting to clean the sink, when he stopped you with a hand on your wrist.

"Don't"

So you didn't. The blood kept running for a few more minutes, while kid finished his face, slightly distracted by your predicament. "Angel" You looked up slightly, one of the last few drops running down to your upper lip, when your head tilted slightly. "Yeah?" He seemed to hesitate, his red face seemingly dropping a shade. "Your Costume was good." "Yours was hot", you blurted out. That made him laugh, a cocky grin returning to his face, as he looked at you. There still were a few stray drops of blood coming from your nose, but the bleeding had stopped.

You had smears of it all over your face. Kid grabbed you chin, taking the tissue from your neck and slowly wiping the tip of your nose clean, when he stopped. He had a thought. And you had a hunch of heat kind of thought it was. You were proven right, when his lips connected with your cheek, tongue going over the smeared blood and sucking int the skin there. You looked down at him. That was a weird feeling. His nose near your ear, hair brushing you skin, the wet muscle gliding greedily over the half dried blood.

You reached a hand up to your lips, collecting the blood that had run down. "I have some on my lip too." An Invite. A question. He could refuse. Not like he would, considering he was fairly drunk as well. "Can I get the tissue?" You offered a way out, even though his answer was clear. Kid pulled back, eyes dangerously lidded, the ember eyes glowing, and a fight inside of him. A fight he lost, considering how aggressive he captured your lips, messy, open-mouthed and collecting the blood with his tounge, sharing it with you.

"Fuck, I wanted to do that all night"

◖⁠⚆⁠ᴥ⁠⚆⁠◗

You hummed when he let go of you. "Those shorts really suit you well. That costume was so goddamn attractive, but the blood?" He groaned low. "Like a murder angel or s'm shit." His voice started to slur, when his other hand, which had been gripping the sink came up to his top you were wearing, pushing it high enough for the shorts to be visible. The metal, stained with blood left bloody fingerprints on the shirt as he held it in place, the hand on your chin settling on your hips, squeezing.

He pushed you back a bit, the back of you legs hitting the toilet and loosing you balance. He held you firm, his prosthetic hand catching your wrist and pulling it close to his mouth, sucking away some of the blood there. You hummed again, the booze hitting you full force now. "Kid?", You asked, voice playfully slurring, you head falling back, staring at the ceiling. "Kiiiid", you repeated right afterwards, not waiting for an answer. He supported your head, making you look at him, metal cool on your scalp. "What?"

"''m hot" His smile widened. "Want me to make you cold?" You hummed approvingly. "Don't regret it" he pushed his metal hand under the shirt, following the path up from your navel, towards your breast, his metal fingers trying to sneak under the bra. He couldn't feel it, how he was moving over it, instead under, how is fingers only grazed your skin, making you shudder whenever they did.

Your hands went to the metal ring on his chest, trying and failing to get it open, but you kept trying, huffing, frustrated. Then, angrily, you pulled, part of the ring opening, the first leather strap sliding off. You slid of the second and third one, pushing his cape off his shoulders and you hands settling on his muscular body, roaming, while you felt the hairs on his skin rising, where your touch would go.

Kid pulled off the shirt, pulling you into another hefty kiss, teeth crashing into each other and you mind blanking, when you saw how he looked at you, with hunger and a sense of furry, a rush to have you now and not a minute later. You lost you focus, lost your feeling, only seeing the red, the gold, the fire the man in front of you was, only coming back to reality, when you felt his metal hand on your naked breast, bra abandoned, even though you don't remember him doing so.

One of his metal fingers swiped along your nipple, careful as not to hurt you. His other hand, however, groped your ass, roughly, pulling you even closer and grinding into you, his erection pressing against you, rutting himself against your body in irregular timing and differing force, his desperation clearly visible. He groaned, the voice vibrating through the connection of your mouths, making you groan as well. His metal hand slipped away, going back to the sink and coming back to your body, smearing blood wherever his hand roamed. Your stomach, your breast, and when it went to hold your neck tightly, he left a bloody handprint of the metalic fingers and joints on your skin.

He didn't squeeze, but the simple pressure of his metallic hand on your throat, gripping just like he would a water bottle: firm to not slip, but not enough to crush, was heavenly. He pulled you away from the toilet, mouth still connected, tongues trashing in each others' caverns, when he pulled away, taking your hand, pulling you into his nearby room, pushing you against the door, closing it with a loud thud.

Your hands got lost in his hair, messing it up, combing through the small amount of gel in his hair, softening it to make it fall down, while he got to work on your shorts, drunken, fumbling fingers trying to open the closed button, failing and trying again. You hummed, opening them yourself and going back to his hair, when he pushed them down, over the bottom of your ass cheeks, where they slid to the ground easily, only needing a slight push of Kid's hand, to get them over the thickest part of your thighs. He lifted you up, your feet dangling in the air, you head starting to spin as he did so, loosing your sense of direction, your shorts falling from your ankles, when he let you down on the floor again, slightly to the left, back facing the bed.

You fell backwards the second he let go off you to take off his own pants, you body feeling way too week, drugged with alcohol and the haze of Lust, of want, of need. Your mind and body running hot, nothing feeling real and everything feeling 10 times more intense. You could feel every wrinkle of the sheets under you, could feel Kids hand approaching your last remaining piece of clothing, pulling your underwear off, your legs immediately falling uncomfortably open, considering your legs were still halfway in the air.

You saw his face getting closer, felt one of your hands being pushed next to your head, huge, warm, calloused fingers intertwining with yours. He lifted your body to his, pushing you further, when he let you fall down on the soft bed again, legs now completely on the bed, his mouth opening, the points of his canines clearly visible, as his upper lip pushed up a bit, wrinkles on his face forming, as he let out an unwanted low growl from deep inside his throat. The way he lowered his head to your throat in a matter of seconds, looking like a starved man, reminded you of the way a lion would bite into it's prey, tearing out the first patch of meat to devour after the successful hunt.

He was an animal.

But so were you.

Your fingers went around his back, one pulling his head even deeper into your throat, his tongue licking over your Adams apple, sucking hard, teeth digging deeper and deeper, hurting but in a pleasurable way - the feeling being so much, your other hand gripped his hand harshly, pulling, while also trying to get him away. Your mind was muddled, no thought forming, only focused on his groan, his sounds, absolutely infatuated with the way he was addicted, the way he couldn't get enough, the way his sucking on your throat made him feel like he was alive, as if he would die if he stopped. Your moans were breathless, hitching high from time to time, whenever he would suck or lick, or put pressure on the bite in a special way.

He pulled away, his lips glistening with his spit, the spot at the front of your throat where he had sucked, feeling wet - something trickling down your neck, if blood or saliva, you couldn't tell. His hair was disheveled, not sticking up quite as much as it did at the start of the night - not tidy this time, it was a mess, largely thanks to you. The hand in his hair moving to his chest, lightly brushing over the protruding scar, your mind registering the raggedness of it, the way it was uneven and slightly elevated from his chest.

The way he looked at you, hovering over you, his red hair so bright and messy, the colour of his eyes contrasting with his skin and hair beautifully, the way his hand still hold yours tight, pushing it into the mattress and the feeling you had, when you felt him between your legs, only one thought formed in your mind. And unwanted as it was, it announced itself in a quiet whisper:

"I love you"

Kid groaned at that, his metal hand lifting form the bedding and settling on your hip, his self-restraint hanging by a single thread, when he started to slowly push into you, his head fell forward, forehead meeting your collarbone, sending a painful chill from there to your head, when bone met bone. He huffed, while you let out a mixture of a hum and a moan, your head rolling back, the mark on your throat hurting while you did so.

When he started to slowly pull out and push in again, the hand on your chest gripped his shoulder again, you legs falling open even wider due to the somehow comfortable and uncomfortable feeling in your lap. The intrusion making you feel simultaneously stuffed to the brim, while also not being able to seemingly get enough. His face disappeared between your shoulder and neck, biting into the flesh there. You moaned loudly when his speed increased rapidly, his thrusts reaching a familiar spot, your back spasming off the bed, legs trembling, trying to close around him, as his name fell out of your mouth in high pitched, yet breathy screams, each varying in volume.

"Fuck, You're amazing, I can't get enough" his groans transformed into low moan, which he tried to surprise at first, an oddly gurgling grunt coming forth instead. But when he let go of that restraint, seeing your face, feeling the way your body spasmed, shivering under his touch, bending to the way he treated you, hearing you thrashing against the sheets, hearing you call his name, "Kid" over and over again, breathless and hitching, like you yourself couldn't believe this was real, your hands clutching his flesh hand in a way that almost hurt, the way your other hand dug into his shoulder, the way slow tears ran down the side of your head, he couldn't help himself. His moans weren't as loud as yours, they were more primal with a rough sound to them, fitting for a man like him. The hold he had in you hurt your hips, the cool metal slowly adjusting to your body temperature, his hand entangled with yours a bruising hold your returned with all your strength and passion.

You turned your head to the side, the dizzyness taking over again, black dots dancing in your vision, your body feeling way too hot again, the metal on your hips suddenly scorching, the feeling between your legs forming into a sharp but somehow comforting pain. A numbness spread from your brain, over your chest and to the tips of your toes, blacking out for a second again. You came back to your senses with overwhelming pleasure, your breath catching, hitching every split second, struggling for air, you body convulsing, tremors being sent up and down your body, making you tremble and thrash around.

But Kid had an Iron hold of you, after he had caught the way your body had slumped, head turned to the side, gaze unfocused, your hand slipping from his shoulders, you being obviously unconscious, there was no way he'd be stopping, when he knew you were close. You came back not even a second later, as if nothing had happened, Gaze still dazed, looking at his eyes, looking through them, the way the hand that had slipped grabbed your breast, a reflex when you came close, so impossibly close.

And when it stopped, A loud, high whine escaped your mouth, teary eyes focusing in Kid, as he kept going, which you didn't even feel at this point, only realising he was still there because of the hand. Your Head started to swirl, Colours spinning, clashing together, when you heard a voice "Angel, c'mon, stay" His voice muffled, was it strained? Your head faced the wall, even though you couldn't tell. Red flashed your vision, flodding with golden dots, when the blur disappeared over time, Kid's features sharpening. His nose, his red-fhushed face, a similar daze, even though not quite as strong as yours, in his eyes. A weak smile on your lips, as a hoarse "hey" was brought over your lips.

You felt a warm, funny feeling between your legs, when the numbness subsided a bit. "Angel", his voice broken, rough and there was something else, but you brain was too muddied to understand. "You're incredible." You hummed, loving his voice, managing another weak smile. "Rest", he whispered into your ear, stroking your cheek, "We'll take care of this tomorrow." In your dazed aphahe, while slowly drifting to sleep, you felt him lifting you from the mattress, loosing your sense of direction again, felt him putting you between soft sheets, his body close to yours.

Ƹ̵̡⁠Ӝ̵̨̄⁠Ʒ◖⁠⚆⁠ᴥ⁠⚆⁠◗

The sun beams were streaming through the sides of the shutters on the windows when you woke up, Kid snoring silently, his right arm angled in a way, where his head was resting on his hand. You sat up slowly, you head spinning and hurting, immense pain throbbing behind your eyes. It felt like they could pop out any minute. You went on you hands and knees, climbing over Kids frame and nearly falling to the floor. Your legs felt weird, the funny feeling between your legs still there. Still? You didn't remember much from the evening.

You found your underwear and shorts, pulling them in and opting to rather look for one of his shirts, instead of going out of the room bare-chested to give everyone a perfect view of your body. You found one in the pike of clothes in a corner, one that didn't stink too much of sweat, as to not overwhelm your senses and one that wasn't as dirty as some of the rest were. You opened the door as silently as you could, stepping out and walking to the bathroom, which, admittedly, wasn't too far away. You opened the door to Killer collecting the clothes on the floor, throwing them in a plastic basket. "Morning", he greeted non-chalant.

You blinked. " Hey." "Don't even try, I guessed when Kid didn't show up in my room and I knew once I heard. The blood doesn't help either." You looked down. "What blood?" He gestured to your throat, which prompted you to look in the mirror, spotting the bloody handprint of his metallic hand. You don't remember when that happened. "I already cleaned the bathroom. If you want to, you can have your stuff back, but it is full of blood." You hummed. "No thanks, I'll stick to this one. You don't suppose you have a bra or something?" "You can ask Adission if she has a spare, but we don't." You groaned. "Anything against a headache? "Already in the kitchen, green bottle."

You sat down the kitchen, grabbing a glass and pouring the weird liquid inside into the mug. You yawned, when you sat down, surpressing a since at the uncomfortable feeling when you did. "Rough night?" "Yep." You and Heat and Adission drank your drink in silence after that, Wire joining you three later, Killer starting to make breakfast. You yawned again, when Kid came in, the pain of the mark on your throat bareable but discomforting. He saw you, smiled, his best part only covered by his Boxershorts, and grabbed himself a piece of the bacon Killed was currently preparing, gobbling it down like a starved man, you remembered, parts of yesterday night flashing back.

He hadn't said "I love you" back, but by the way he picked you up, sitting you down on his lap and stealing parts of your drink, you didn't think he had to. It was clear for you, and it was clear for him and that was all that mattered.

No Need To Fear {Moira & Mercy, Angst}

After an Attack on an Overwatch and Blackwatch Meeting, Moira and Angela are trapped in the rubble. A lone window on the ceiling their only escape, Angela the only one able to reach it. Yet, as Fate wished it, Angela is badly injured and in need of medical attention, Moira the only one that could heal her. But does she trust the sadistic scientist to keep her promise?

Angela Ziegler knew better than to trust Moira O'Deorain. She knew better, she should have known better. For years, she had despised her methods, had resisted a collaboration between the two, had decidedly pushed everything away Moira had offered.

Moira just wanted to advance her research, she wanted to surpass death, but she was ruthless. Angela knew that very well. Blackwatch was a disgrace in her mind. Out of hand, uncontrollable and wild. Blackwatch was evil, more so because of the fellow scientist hired.

Angela always met Moira with disdain, dismissive and absolute. Judging her Methods and morals, yet Moira remained unbothered. Calm. Objective set on discovering her revival technology. No, she had long ago made up her mind. Never would she put her trust in Moira, never would she work together with her and never would she believe her words.

Moira had escaped the attack unscathed, Mercy — Angela — had not. Angela was in her Mercy Uniform, the Wings in her back, fitting to her name, bleeding profusely. A part of the protective armour was shattered, flesh exposed underneath and Moira could already tell what a disaster it was, shrapnel and dirt in her open wound, if she was lucky, she could get it out. If only Angela would let her.

Angela's mind was fuzzy, edges blurring and her thoughts mixing into a muddy soup. But she stood strong, slapping away Moira's hands, whenever she caught the slender, bony limbs reach and touch. “My staff”

Moira had already looked for the staff, partially because she wanted to look at it, understand it, but mainly because a great mind like Angela's shouldn't be lost because of stubbornness. She had pulled it out of rubble, and while she was unsure about how it worked, it was broken in multiple pieces. It somehow looked alive inside, and if it was, it wasn't anymore. It had burned and soot was covering the shiny metal.

Angela knew she couldn't fix her staff in time. They were trapped anyway, and Moira needed her if she wanted to escape — there was a window above them, but it was too high for the Irish Woman to reach, even with using the rubble as a vantage point. The highest she got was her long fingernails barely scraping along the glass. Moira had no choice. She was the one who had it. If she would let Moira help her, surely she wouldn't do anything stupid?

Moira had tried breaking the window and failed. The explosion had caged them in, it was a miracle the godforsaken window stood strong, albeit a terribly timed miracle. She clicked her tongue as she walked quickly over to Angela, her shoes clicking against the floor, as she knelt down. “Let me help you, Angela. I promise I won't do anything, all you have to do is trust me.”

Angela had trusted Moira once. Back when they were still in med school, she had trusted her and Moira had coldly used it against her. Angela knew Moira, she knew her nature, she knew Moira wouldn't be able to resist another betrayal of trust, it's what she did to everyone, she didn't care. But Angela cared. At least she would have, her mind was too unfocused, too messy. She couldn't grasp a single thought, and as Moira's hands grasped at the Armour, she couldn't lift herself to stop her, her hands not raising as she tried. She was so weak, so tired.

Moira smiled, as she tugged the armour off, Angela pale and sweaty, as she looked at the wound, taking out the shrapnel with her medical equipment she carried with. Angela flinched and yelped at the pain, but Moira was undeterred. She lifted Angela's undershirt, securing it with a loose knot so it wouldn't fall over the wound steadily leaking blood. Threatening words left Angela's mouth, but the vigor behind it was missing, so Moira continued.

Angela was helpless. She watches as if dazed, as Moira took out a bottle of disinfectant, but instead of doing it properly, she poured it into the wound, a wicked smile on her features. Angela couldn't help but scream, it hurt so bad. Suddenly filled with adrenaline and pain, she pushed Moira from her slumped body, as she turned, trying to crawl along the wall. She wouldn't get far, she couldn't, with them being trapped, but she sure would try.

Moira wasn't pleased. It wasn't the first time her patients went running. Sometimes she let them, only to chase them afterwards - sometimes, it was just thrilling fun, but not this time. Scoffing, Moira reached for Angela's shoulders, roughly spinning her around before pointedly seating herself on her hips, pinning her down. Angela yelled, thrashed. The wound leaked more blood and Moira got angry. She didn't want Angela to die of blood loss, that wouldn't do. Extending her right arm, she aimed at the other Overwatch employee, also injured but already unconscious, extracting his life force, before showering Angela in the soft, warm, sharply stinging healing spray.

Angela was surprised at first, she was scared, afraid of Moira but Moira had actually helped her. She retracted her hands from trying to punch and push Moira, as Moira reached out. Her expression was neutral, as she softly grabbed her hands, and then, in less than a second, Angela was helpless again. Her hands were pinned over her head with Moira's right hand as she could only watch how Moira pulled a syringe out of her med kit, the contents purple like her biotic grasp, before she injected it right where her old wound was.

Moira watched as Angela lay there, helpless and restrained, only able to wait for the effects of whatever Moira had just injected her to kick in. Moira, of course, knew what she had injected her fellow scientist with. Soon, Angela would feel nauseous, she'd fall unconscious before the chemical could actually fulfill it's true purpose — making her a slave to Moira, just like she had chained Reyes, Amélie and Siebren.

If Angela was a merciful Angel, Moira was a ruthless Demon, but Moira wouldn't want it any other way, after all, how else could she achieve her goals? Angela Ziegler's technology in her hands… Well, technically, Angela Ziegler herself. There was no one who could stop her now. Moira looked towards the window at the top. Maybe she would die before Angela would succumb to her pain and help Moira. But she could rest easy, knowing how close she came.

Return to me {Alexander Anderson x AMAB Reader}

You know Alexander from the Library you worked at - when he one day stands in front of your day at the end of the year 1999, you can not deny him shelter. And now, you definitely didn't regret it

NSFW below

NSFW cut: ᕙ⁠[⁠･⁠۝･⁠]⁠ᕗ

Not Beta read we die like {redacted}

You never thought you'd see him again, but there he was, standing right in front of you was the tall, blonde priest with green eyes that had a way to obvious scar on his cheek, asking you if you had a place for him to stay for some time. Your heart was still somewhat broken by being rejected by said man, that fateful day where you had decided to accept he would reject you and went and got it for yourself, thinking you might be able to get over it, your love for that man.

Needless to say, you didn't. You never did and didn't think you ever would. But everytime he came into the library, asking you for a book you couldn't help but falling for him. And fall you did, landing hard in the reality that he was a priest, the he was to not mingle in relationships with others, his only devotion being god and the preachings of the bible. You had started to read the books that he did, finding most to be about the occult, werewolves, vampires, witches, wendigos... And how to kill them. Books that were written like research, obviously being a piece of someone's fantasy.

But then he would come in and get children's books, about the holy Mary, about birds and trains and flowers, about the way the sun would rise and laugh, but how the clouds would always cry. When you found out he was living in an orphanage, you wanted to go so badly, it wasn't far, but it wouldn't be fair. So the next time he had come by, you had asked him out for a stroll - not a date, just to get to know him, to become friends. His positive response had surprised you.

So why, after all that time of him caring, in the end rejecting and going seperate ways, was he standing in front of you, on this winter afternoon in 1999? And where was his priest robe? He had his usual coat on, but only a thin shirt and jeans, so you didn't waste time, letting him into your house. "Alexander? What are you doing here?" "I quit. And I- You said you'd always be there when I need something, and right now, I don't have a home. Can I stay? Only until I find something for myself, of course." You turned the thought over in your head. The Basement was free, you'd only have to clean it up, maybe stash everything in your garage. "God, sit down first. Coffee, Tea or Hot Chocolate?"

Sitting down with him, each sipping on their own tea, you finally spoke up. "I really should question how you figured out where I live, but the reason you quit interests me more." He sipped on his tea. "There have been... Some mindest differences recently. Between me and the church. While I am incredibly sad to leave behind the children, I couldn't accept staying there. Not with the recent happenings in London." "London? What does the Church have anything to do with the destruction of London?" He just smiled. You never got an answer. But you guessed it was more involvement then what the newspapers told you.

Sometimes, the ex-priest talked to you about an old friend, one, who vanished back in London. You didn't know if he was dead or just disappeared in the rubble, or if it was... A different kind of friend. You looked after him a lot of the time, driving him back and forth from monestary to your home so you could get all his belongings. You even had to drive to the Vatican - Who had an own room in the Vatican?! It had taken months for him to settle comfortably in the basement, old bookshelves and boxes and dressers functioning as his only storage. You bought him a new bed, so he could at least afford a good rest - he promised to repay you, but you shook it off. It was a cheap one anyways.

You helped him find work in the city, helped him with a driver's licence and, in the end, you both scrapped your money together to get him a car. It was second-hand, fairly cheap compared to the other cars on the market, small and old-school. But he was happy with it, and so were you. After a good 3 months you finally convinced him to buy new clothes, instead of just opting for your old father's ones, it was exciting finally seeing the fashion taste of a man previously running around only in his religious tell-tale robe with the crosses.

He picked out a few checkered ones, others had random prints on it. You got him to buy a muscle shirt (mainly for your own entertainment, but also because it got really hot during summertime) and some pullovers for winter - one Pullover was relatively thin and black, covering his neck from the cold winds that would come in 6 more months. A lot of people had stared at you - maybe it was the fact you were just average size and he was - well - over 2 meters tall, maybe they held you for a couple or found him handsome. But maybe, it was because of his scar. You never knew for certain how he got it.

You saw him enter the library on a fairly quiet day, he hadn't visited for weeks, probably on one of his trips to foreign countries. He didn't take long to get to the Check-out and you were snooker to see his face. His left cheek had a big white patch on it - a compress. There was a thin line in the middle with red specks of blood. When you asked him what had happened, he had dismissed you, saying it had been an accident he didn't want to talk about. The next time, you saw the wound. It was three scratches all neatly lined up, like claw marks. It was then you had your first suspicion, the middle one deeper then the other two, the skin around it a deep purple.

After that visit, he came in again, this time, the upper and lower scratch were healed completely, the middle one still deep and purple, as if it couldn't heal. That's when you knew. You knew what he had been doing, why he had been away, why he had been injured. You had asked him to come to the staff bathroom, getting an idea. You had confronted him, he had brushed it off, yet still he let you cut around the edges, widening the wound and, effectively, overwriting the original one. The wound had healed in a few weeks, only leaving behind the nasty scar on his cheek.

In month 6 of him staying with you, he was finally able to afford his own Appartment so he started scouting. You helped him, of course, You taught him how to use the library computers, so he could scout more effectively, he actually understood it really fast. A smart man, he was. The landline phone, he had figured out within a few weeks of you introducing it to him and he called the monestary every weekend. You liked to listen. He would be a good father, you decided, when you heard him talk with the kids, reassuring them he didn't forget them and that he would stop by from time to time.

He held his word, always arriving to any of their birthdays with a personalized gift. You were happy to be able to accompany him. Some of the nuns were a bit suspicious first, thinking you might have taken advantage of Alexander, but they were quick to trust you and your words - you did love him, but you'd never try to take advantage of him - even though that wasn't something that they needed to know.

Alexander had found the Appartment he wanted to live in during month 8. He was happy, you were not. You offered him to stay for longer, so that he could pay the bills as well - which was something he had totally forgotten about. He lost the Appartment and you felt guilty.

But when winter rolled around again, seeing him in that long-sleeve neck Pullover, paired with thick, dark grey jeans with a fashionable belt and a silver cross necklace, you nearly forgot to breathe, or that you had been feeling guilty. After the incident with the Appartment, things had started to change. You noticed he looked at you fondly, for longer than normal, he smiled whenever you did something - if it was a greeting, rambling, making food - you had noticed he was a way better cook and picked up habits of you - humming along to your music or just watching a show. It seemed weird. Whenever asked, he would just say that he was happy you had been the one to take him in.

On his birthday, you had taken him out to a more expensive restaurant, treating him to something you called "culture cruise". You introduced him to proper Italian traditions that he had missed out on in the orphanage, traditional food that wasn't served there, you showed him a cinema and he was blown away by the movie, not being able to believe it. He had missed out on so much, leading such a humble, yet dangerous, life, that you were more than adamant about giving him a life he deserves. A life full of care, gratefulness, and, if possible, love.

He had liked his birthday, even though, in the end, he admitted, that it would have been enough to spent it with you - but that he was thankful you wanted to show him your world. You asked him to show you his, and, even though he dismissed it now, he would show you later on. After getting home, there was something weird. Between you two, of course, not in your house. You both wanted to retiree for the night, but again, both of you lingered in the living room near the stairs up to your room and down to his. "I'm glad you liked today, I was a bit worried", you admitted out of the blue. He scratched his neck, his muscles showing under the thin pullover. You questioned how he wasn't cold.

He was quiet a bit, before speaking up. "I... I loved this glimpse into your world. It was educating and it meant a lot to you, so I.. You mean a lot to me and so does your world. So I thank you dearly for taking me along, sunshine." You smiled again, wider this time, liking the nickname maybe a little too much. After that it took a few more moments of silence, for both of you to say your goodbyes and go to sleep. You, however, were unable to, thinking about the way he was treating you, how much he cared about you and your world. He really was a gentleman, if you were sure about him feeling similarly about you, the way you felt about him, then you would be glad to, maybe, someday, call him your husband.

Your first kiss came the next day. It wasn't your first overall, but it was the first with him. Maybe it had been the music and jokefully romantically made dinner - you genuinely just wanted to recreate the ambiance of the restaurant, there was never an intention to make it feel so appealing. But joking around with him, about some of the older, black and white movies and the more recent coloured ones, him joking with you there was a moment of you playfully leaning into his side, lamenting over something random, like the candles, while he calmly, in an equal joking matter grabbed your arm softly. You shot up to kiss him on the cheek, something he, apparently, also felt like doing.

It had taken not even a second, before you pulled back, apologizing profusely, you face flushed - as was his. He smiled, saying it was no matter. You sat down to eat, face fixed in the food. He stood there for a moment longer, before he asked, bashfully: "Would you like to do it again?" You looked up, his gaze locked onto you, as if he felt no shame. Why would he, you thought. It was a mistake, nothing more. But why did he offer? Did he.. were your suspicions really correct? He didn't move, standing there. The offer he had just given you hang heavy in the air, debating whether to act on it or not.

You chair creaked when you pushed it back a bit. "Would you like to do it again?" Alexander's face turned a deeper red than before. He was quiet, before admitting a small "yes". It was then that you stood up and closed in on him.

"then, I would like one as well"

The second kiss was really worth it. It was long, gentle and loving. It felt warm, comforting - it felt good. On a completely unrelated note, the food was delicious as well. You just loved eating this dish - especially with Alexander in front of you, the kiss and it's implications - even though it was less of an implication and more of a flashy Broadway Sign, after all, a kiss - no, technically two - seemed like a very exclusive thing that two people wouldn't do if they just were friends, unprompted by any dare.

Long story short, after dinner, there was a deep talk and you both decided to try. And try you did. It worked out fine, the only thing that really changed was the few kisses, the cuddle-sessions and the trips - now dates - to town. It wasn't really a secret, but it also wasn't really public. It's that weird in between-thing, where you knew, but you just weren't quite ready to tell everyone - but showing wasn't really a problem. Alexander had the habit to keep you close - it was a habit he had picked up one or two months after being at your home, but now, he just seemed to be more open about it, actively seeking you out. This day, it had been particularly bad and after getting home, you had asked him about it. He seemed taken aback.

"I'm Sorry if I overstepped. I didn't mean to, I'll keep it in mind next time"

You sighed. "No, no, Alex, that's not- that's not what I meant. I was simply curious on why you did it, I apologize if it came over wrong"

Alexander looked at you for a few seconds, contemplating if he should tell you. Then: "I am scared"

You could tell he wasa bit uncomfortable, but you couldn't just leave it here. You took him by the hand, setting him down on the couch and sitting next to him, your own hand in his. "If you want to, you can tell me. I'm here for you." Alexander seemed torn, it was the first time you had seen him this conflicted, this... This pained.

"London was last year.", He started and stopped right after. It clicked into place for you, but you wanted him to go on. You squeezed his hand reassuringly, lightly stroking your thumb over his hand in yours, a smile on your lips, as you silently told him to take his time. "It was... I mean you read about it, of course, but... I was there. It was horrible and I- I lost more friends than just one." Oh, that was something you actually hadn't thought about, but it made sense. "One was my student. Her name was Yumiko and she was great. Heinkel nearly lost their life as well - a lot of the division died, nearly all, even though I told them to stay back. I lost so many friends, when I tried to save them all"

He took his hand away then, covering his eyes with his hands and bending forward, hiding his face. Your smile dropped. He didn't loose one person, he didn't loose a few. He lost everyone. You got down on your knees, sliding between his legs and taking his hands away gently. He wasn't crying, not yet anyways - but his eyes were shining bright with the promise of salty water spilling over any second. "Were you scared to loose me too?" He nooded then. You got up from this position, pulling him into a hug. " You won't, Alexander. That life is beyond you now, it's behind us both. We are here together, we are here, Alex. We are alive." You pressed his hand to you heart. "We are both alive."

That day was one you never forgot. Alexander Anderson, previously a priest and in charge of an orphanage, as well as something with the occult, member of a division you had never heard of, was traumatized. He had been vulnerable with you, around you. He had shared his pain and you had accepted it, accepted him and all the implications and complications that came with it. How could he ever hope to find someone better? He didn't, and he never would, because you, he was convinced, were the best choice he could ever make.

When one year had run by, you realized he had never slept in the same bed as you. Not even when one of you fell asleep on the couch, he would always be gone and in bed instead. So today, you tried to get him to sleep with you - not in a sexual sense, by God, only sleeping next to each other, maybe (hopefully) cuddling. That was the day you realized no one had cover taught this man anything about relationships or explained That, when the bible quoted "thou shall not lie with a woman, if thy art not married", or whatever the actual quote said, it didn't mean sleeping in the same bed, but sleeping together.

So that was a conversation you needed to have, and, in retrospect, it was fairly funny, but back then, it was undeniably weird to be the one to give a grown man, which you were together with, sex education. That didn't seem like your job, but now you stood here, and he stood there, and that was the situation you were in. "So uh, the Bible doesn't really mean sleep, Alexander. It means sex." He had heard that word uttered in disgust and disdain by the nuns that had raised him, heard more about this being an act of either love or lust between a man and a woman. He never knew that was what the line meant, nor did he know what sex actually was.

So he disclosed it all to you. You shook your head, in denial that any institute for raising and educating children would stop at sex and don't even mention it to them. What if they would have gone and discovered it on their own, maybe way too young or having to deal with the consequences alone? "Well, traditionally speaking, in most cultures and religions sex is between a man and a woman, but not exclusive. Men can do it with men and women with women. In a traditional sense it's something very intimate, something you do with one you trust fully. Someone you love, if we keep it extremely Christian."

Alexander nodded, seemingly soaking up everything you were saying. "So uhm, do you know the difference between make and female anatomy" "I raised children" point taken, stupid question. "Okay so, Sex is when you put your uh-" god this was more embarrassing than showing and recommending someone erotica and explaining in detail how exactly it was interesting. "So you put your penis into the vagina of the woman and just... Go." "Just go?" "Just... Just go, yes." "How does it work between the others?" Oh lord, have mercy. "So between a man and a man, it just goes in the ass, or they get themselves off with hands or mouths, which is similar in that case with women. There are also specific toys that help."

Alexander seemed a bit puzzled, but the red taint on his cheeks made you realize, he was also embarrassed about this, even though you were sure you were way more red - your head was steaming and cooking your brain. At least that's what it felt like. "But what do you mean with just go?" You just wanted for a portal to hell to open up. At this point, burning you skin off in an eternal hellfire seemed more acceptable than this. "Just go. Like... In and out" "Like when you need to fill a tire of a bike with air?" "Yes. Absolutely. Like a piston, in some ways. Obviously that's not all there is to it, but that is essentially how it works. Have you never tried to uhm- do it yourself?"

You had never seen him so flustered. "No! That was forbidden, seen as a sin!" "Hey, there's genuinely nothing wrong with it. It's actually quite healthy. You're not part of the Church anymore, you don't need to abide to their beliefs." He seemed to stop. Like he was a computer that just shut down because you opened three tabs on the browser and caused a Microsoft error. He had never thought about that before, you realized. It's just been a year away from the church, the place that raised him, homed him, gave him an occupation - of course everything was still indoctrinated in him. How could you expect something else?

You went to bed seperately.

The next day was still a bit awkward, but by the second day everything returned to normal. He even decided to actually do sleep in your bed with you - only after about a month of consideration. You were happy, however. If he was comfortable, then you were too. Alexander had become the thing you thought your life revolved around. When you went out to go shopping, you immediately looked if you could bring him something from your trip. When you were cooking, you thought about how he would cook it, or how he would like it. And when you were cuddling, you thought about the way he was warm, that he was alive, alive with you. Days passed like this, weeks, months even.

"Sunshine?" You hummed positively, looking up from your book. He had been reading one of his own, a recommendation from you. "I was curious." You hummed again, putting your mark in you book and closing it. "I don't know if it's an approprita question." "Shoot your shot, dear." He seemed to think for a second. "I have been thinking about something you said." You grew a bit impatient. "When?" "I don't know, a few months ago. You said I wasn't part of the church anymore and thus do not need to abide their rules" "Dear, whatever you want to ask, just ask. I won't crucify you. And the church won't either."

He closed his book as well, scratching his beard stubble. "Maybe we could try it out?" Before you could ask what he meant, he elaborated, realizing he hadn't said what. "Sex, I mean. Apologies if I'm overstepping-" You nearly choked on your own spit. What. The. Hell. What had you done to this man? He had been so shy, so embarrassed about it, and now, he sat there in front of you, asking you such a question. You mean, damn. If that isn't some quick character development. If you were serious though, you had thought about it as well. Of course, you didn't want to bring it up, as not to pressure him. So this, was perfect.

"Sure, let's go." He was taken aback slightly by the way you stood up, starting to walk to the stairs. "Why go?" "To the bedroom, dear. Yours or mine?" He stood up as well, stopping next to you. "Yours." You sat him down on the bed. "I suppose you don't know more than I told you?" He shook his head. "Don't worry, I will take the lead." "You did this before?" "Yeah, but never like this." "In charge?" "That. And with someone I love."

ᕙ⁠[⁠･⁠۝･⁠]⁠ᕗ

You took his hands and let them rest on your waist, as you settled on his lap, going for a kiss. You pushed yourself close, shamelessly resting on his crotch. You pulled away, taking one of his big, calloused hands and sliding it up, to rest next to your chest. "You can touch me, you know." He seemed hesitant, but you went in for another kiss, keeping his mouth open this time, your tongue brushing his, animating him to participation. He was eager to follow your lead. His hand slipped to your back instead, holding you close. You pushed back again, leaving him some room.

Your thumb pressed on his scar, the slightly elevated, jagged surface soft and yet hard beneath your fingers. You pushed your hand under his jaw, pushing his head back and starting to kiss along his neck, his throat releasing a loud, shuddering breath, as the hand that had pushed his head back slowly trailed down his throat, cold fingers ghosting over the warm skin, fingers barely touching him. You other hand guided his hand to your neck, squishing it in his large hand. His other hand, still on your waist, gripped you harshly, it brought a slightly hurtful feeling up in you, but it made you feel secure.

You pulled back, Alexander finally finding the courage to explore your body, his head snapping back almost immediately, eyes fixating on yours. His gorgeous green eyes glowing behind his glasses. You slowly reached up, but he stopped you before you could take them off. "No. I don't-" "Okay" and just like that he was back to roaming your body, enjoying as your hands slid over his. A few moments later you sat up on your knees, pulling off your shirt. Alexander seemed a bit flustered at first, but got over it fairly quickly.

You kissed him again, your body shifting a bit, pressing close again, his hand trapped between you bodies, as he leaned back, other hand supporting his weight. You stood up, pulling him with you as well. You discarded all of your clothes, watching him do the same. It was mesmerizing how a small bit of his torso showed when he lifted his arms up, pulling his own shirt over his head. The muscles in his arms flexed slightly, his shirt falling to the ground next to him. Scars were all over his body, the cross of the silver nacklace resting where his collarbone was, a cross tattooed onto his skin with the words "yes jesus" in it. You recalled seeing said design on his gloves when he was still a priest. His trousers were the next to go it was the first time Alexander's head was actually lower than yours.

He sat down on the bed again, back resting against the headboard. You did the same you did before - sitting in his lap. Just, this time, you could feel whenever the muscles in his leg twitched when you bit down or kissed or sucked in a particular way, felt how he tensed and relaxed when you shifted your body. It was captivating, the expression he made. His eyes were on you, the entire time he was focused on you, nothing else. His hands never left you, pulling you close. He was breathing loud, not quite panting, but close enough. And then, when you actually felt him, you realized a grave mistake. You couldn't show him, because you didn't expect this and had no condoms, and no lube, and he definitely had neither either.

"Alex, dear" he hummed. "We can't do it quite the way you want it yet, but we can do it differently." Before he could ask why, you continued. "We don't have protection. I'll go out and buy some, but not right now. I can show you other ways." The Catholic was silent, before a breathless "yes" left his lips. You kissed him again, sucking on his lower lip, before pulling back and spitting in your hand. "It's not the best, sorry" he wanted to reply, but when your hand ghosted over the head of his cock, before you slick hand closed around it pushed him into a whole new sensation. It was weird, to be touched there by someone else. But not unwelcome.

He grasped at your hips, pushing you down and towards him a bit, your own erection brushing his slightly elevated thigh. He pulled you into another kiss, breaths mixing with each other as both of you tried to breathe through your noses, Oxygen soon running out despite your best efforts. You pushed back a bit, getting into a more comfortable position. Your hand gabbed him a bit harder, a loud moan being your response. You slowly started pumping up and down in a slow pace with no constant rythm. Sometimes it was all the way to the head, sometimes only a short, cut off up and down shifting.

You twisted your hand, lifting a few fingers and adding them again from time to time. Alexander's Head rested against the wall, his mouth opened, sounds leaving his vocal chords in low hums or gasps, vulnerable sound that he trusted you with. You hummed as well, seeing one of his hands grabbing the sheet, crumbling them. You wouldn't be surprised if he ripped them. The other was still bruising your hip, a thrum of slight pain shoot up, a thrum of the love he shared for you. You hummed, your hips pushing themselves forwards on his thigh to gain some friction, a movement immediately stopped by you.

This wasn't about you. This was about him. A moan escaped your lips. "Alexander-" You felt him twitch when you changed the pressure, tighenting and loosening your grip in random intervals. He moaned, trying to hold your stare, while his hand wanted to fall back. His mouth was slightly open, his breathing loud, chopped and fast. You never knew what a sight you missed out on and he never on what kind of pleasure. This Sight, you were sure, was one you'd never be able to forget, if he would leave you know... You're done for. But the way , he looked into your eyes, torso jolting forwards whenever electric signals went through his muscles, he was in just the same situation.

"Sunshine-" You knew he was close, when you felt the sticky liquid leaking onto your fingers and when he involuntarily started thrusting his hips up in a jerking motion, as if his body told him what to do and he had no choice but to comply. When he did tip over the edge, you had the feeling as if he was about to crush your hip and hand, but if this is how you lost them, it'd be worth it. The way he calmed down, his chest rising and falling abruptly, noticeably slowing down as you removed your hand, watching as the white-ish colour leaked out, gathering and spilling over the edge, cascading down as if it was a water fountain without pressure.

You smiled patiently, warmly, even though you yourself were extremely desperate. You waited until he came back to you, finally leaving this state of pure bliss. His head was flushed red, the red spreading down his neck and disappearing into his shoulders, but he slowly regained his colour. "Dear lord in heaven...", he breathed, gaping air in as much as he could, "what have you done to me?" You chuckled and smiled, "Just falling in love, my dear. Just falling in love." Alexander laughed at that, his hand on your hip grabbing your waist an coupling you back in, lips meeting again. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you're a witch that out a spell on me" You grinned, raising your hand before his eyes and wriggling your fingers. With a darker, goofy voice you ominously proclaimed: "I put a spell on you~~"

He kissed you again, his smile clear as day. You pulled back and whispered: "and now you're mine" Again, he smiled and you noticed his glasses were slightly tilted, so you took them off, driving your fingers through his hair, which was now a bit longer then when he came to you, and you put them back on. "How did you feel, Alexander, dear?" "Really good... Does it... Feel the same for you?" You hummed positively, his eyes flickering down to his thigh between your legs, he noticed your legs were a tad bit closer than before, the way your height shifted backwards, as if trying to get more and yet less touch at the same time.

"Can I help you? Can you guide me?" "You really don't need to, Alexander. We can take it slow." "What if I want to?" You breathed in. Okay. So you were doing this. You smiled again, and took his hand in yours, guiding it towards yourself. "Take it slow, Alexander, there is no need to rush, okay?" He nodded, following your lead. You leaned back a bit, your hand letting go of his and switching to his wrist, his hand bumpino against your erection. "This is the same I did to you" you took the hand you had just left and pulled him towards you, as he started to lean forwards to meet you halfway, guiding his hand to wrap around yourself

You hummed. "Now just-" "go?", He smiled at you and you let out a laugh through your nose at the throwback. "Just go." And go he did. He was careful at first, his hand staying straight as he only pumping his hand up and down, pressure nearly unnoticeable. There wasn't anything building just yet, your desire for something being satisfied. "You can experiment, Alex, I'm not gonna break", you smiled, your hand resting on the one he held himself up with. That was when his hand started moving with experimental paces, faster, slower. He applied pressure however he saw fit, a delicious thrum starting to build.

His hand alone made you feel really good, despite the basic way he used it and, oh did you wonder what he would be able to do if he was more experienced. You hummed and he applied harsh pressure suddenly, your hips thrusting up a bit. You looked at Alexander, his green eyes glimmering, as you found them still looking at you - your face. You moaned at that, your hand reaching over and pulling him even closer. His movements slowed, before he stopped completely, before his fingers feathered out a bit and he set a different pace, a different pressure. You let his shoulder go, focusing again on keeping yourself sitting.

He had an irregular pace, the harshness and actual pace of his pumps being vastly different from each other - he learned. From nothing but the things you did to him. His hand was huge compared to yours, fingers wide and calloused. So when he pushed back to your head, his spread fingers brushed the thin line at the top and you jolted like you had just experienced an electric shock, a loud gasp escaping you as well - you hadn't expected this. He stopped dead in his ministrations, studying you for a minute. Your face was flushed, you were leaned back onto your hands, eyes nearly closed, but not quite, focusing on his own.

He looked down, pushed his hand down and did the same as before, with the slide of his finger over the slit - as he got not even a similar reaction he pressed his finger ghosted over it slowly again, and another jolt ran through your body. Alexander smiled and you knew you were in for it now. He took your shoulder and gently pushed you down on the bed, kneeling between your legs. His hand lowered from the sensitive spot and his other hand sneaked there instead, finger pressing and exploring exactly where it was, eyes never leaving yours. And when he found it, oh dear lord in heaven, you prayed he'd have some mercy left for you.

With the combined experimenting pumps and moving of his fingers you were quick to grasp his shoulders, squeezing and pulling, your high approaching. You body shivered, as you called his name, fluids spilling onto his hand, as you hands gripped harder and your head fell back, breath quick but steadily slowing down. Alexander didn't look away. He sat there, a bit confused on what to do with his hand, so he just... Held it over his lap. Your cum dropping onto his bare legs. You shifted into a sitting position and gave him a smile, before noticing how lost he looked. You didn't waste time to hurry and get some tissues to wipe himself - and your hand clean with.

ᕙ⁠[⁠･⁠۝･⁠]⁠ᕗ

After you pushed him to the shower, both of you opting to just do so together, because, why would you care now about nakedness of all times? You both got dressed, before you changed the sheets and, even though he offered to help, you ordered him to just wait a few minutes. He did. Then you gestured for him to sit on the bed with you. "So, That's what it feels like." "Everytime?" You shook your head. "Not everytime without exception. It might be more or less intense or satisfying." He seemed to hesitate to ask you the next question, but you just answered it before he could ask: "I am very satisfied, Alexander"

He smiled and took your hand, standing up and pulling you to your feet. "Let's get some snacks", he offered, giving you a kiss. You smiled as well, giving him a peck on his cheek. "Yep, let's go!"

Okay I was absent for a really long fucking time. I've been working on the Spotify wrapped OneShots and a FanFiction again for my alt account (will it see the light of day? Hm, maybe)

I also have been busy with being sick, university assignments for the first semester (I despise group projects), and also a visit from online friends so I wasn't writing a whole lot, I also have some things to figure out with the Spotify Wrapped OneShots (the last one was a slay apparently, thanks for all the love, i actually squealed like a fox when I saw the reblogs <3)

And yeah, BUT, I got a proofreader app to fix my mistakes! And the next one will be up some time soon, I gave it to a friend to read over because I wanted to make sure the things I tried for it actually work (i hope they do, I tried something new!) and I'll see y'all with the new OneShot!

Also: would you prefer SoundCloud or Spotify links for the songs?

Seven Minutes in Hell {Breakup! Eustass Kid X Reader}

You have been treated badly one too many times. It's time to leave your Boyfriend behind

Shit hasn't been well, this song slaps and let's get this shit show started!

Ofc kinda angsty(not really though?, but on god Reader deserves freedom (Dw, my pookie will get another actual One shot soon lmao, hopefully as tasteful as the song but lbfr i'll probabky flump it again)

Anywho, let's get it started

Admittedly, your relationship with Kid was everything but healthy. He was loud and didn't really care about if you had to stand up in the morning, police called to your place more than once for loud screaming and arguments. There were his guy friends, his crew, that were obviously higher on his priority list than you — far higher. The amount of times he nearly went to jail for them, you'd thought Kid would have learned his lesson, but alas he never did. And you? Well, you seemed to only be there for one thing — stress relief. If that meant fucking you and screaming at you, something even throwing random stuff at you he found in the house, well, that was for him to decide on the whim.

If at least the sex was good, but even that was all about him. It was like the world revolved around him and only him and everyone had to do what he wanted. Well, too bad for him, you had enough. Years of misery finally snapping to a close, you decided he wasn't worth your time anymore. You were done with being treated like an old-timey housewife of the Middle Ages. You had packed your things while he was out with his friends again, ready to leave. There was no way in hell however you would want to miss his face when you confronted him, oh how you imagined he'd look. Would he be upset, would he scream at you again, only proving your point?

You put your last bag in your best friend's trunk, she had been kind enough to lend you a hand in her endeavor. If it went how she wanted to, you probably wouldn't even have started this relationship, but now she just sat ready to drive, the box of glitter she brought still sitting on the back seat as she gave you a last encouraging nod to take it. You didn't and went back inside, letting her know it could get late — she waited, of course. And you went back inside.

Kid was expecting food on the stove when he came back home, he didn't even notice your shoes missing on the shoe rack out front when he unlocked the apartment, but he did notice one thing — all that decor he had absolutely despised missing. He even smiled triumphantly before he realised the missing smell of fresh food. Kicking off his boots haphazardly, he stopped into the kitchen and saw you on your phone, sitting on a chair at the table. "Yo, what's with food?" "I won't make you food anymore."

There was a silence, a calm before the storm. You put your phone in your back pocket before he could fly off the handle, just in time. "What the fuck?! You're not even gonna make me food now, what are you even worth?!" You let him have his little temper tantrum, before you sighed. "We're done, Kid. I'm worth far more than you, and by all means... I really hope you never get another partner in your life, my god" He seethed, his face contorting in anger, but he didn't say anything, couldn't say anything, words missing on his tongue and voice dying in his throat. "Oh, and uh, I'm moving out. Like today." You shrugged.

All the tension in him seemed to snap at once, as he lunged forwards, grabbing you by your throat and pushing you against the wall. His metal fingers pressing down hard, actually restricting your airway. "You fucking bitch have the audacity to come in here, live here for years, be absolutely useless to me, then up and leave? No, no, you don't get to do that!" "Well, I was good enough to make you food. And to get you off, apparently. Also, you hurt me in any way, I won't hesitate to call the police, I only need to press one button right now." He huffed, he really seemed like a bull trapped in a ring with gladiators, just that this was no real fight. "Don't fucking pretend like you didn't like this shit, wasn't that part of the reason you even came here in the first place?"

"It was, at the start" You smiled. "You just kind of… Put me through hell, not gonna lie. Like, you've gotten so bad in bed, it's actively hell. Like I'm just there, and honestly, no. Not even a thank you, no — just no." His hands clenched into fists, and for a second you thought you had crossed the line, as he raised his hand, before he turned, smashing the table with his prosthetic. "Get out you fucking whore! Get out, or I swear I'll rip your fucking throat out!" You didn't need to get asked twice, running to your friends' car, who looked at you worriedly, but you smiled as you hoped into the passenger seat. "Drive, Drive!" And without a word, she started the car as you began laughing. Finally, you were free again.