#THEY PULL OUT MATCHING CROWBARS. GUYS. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

besthimbomachine · 1 year

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what my hands and my body done

summary: After his win against Jon Moxley in the death match, Adam feels the weight of what he had to do hanging heavy in his chest. He goes out to a bar to try and find relief at the bottom of a bottle but finds something else instead. His relief comes in the form of the bartender who knows nothing of who he is or what he has gone through, just what he needed to be able to wash out the savagery from his body. pairing: hangman adam page x reader word count: 9743 warning: smut, minors go away this one is a request for hangman x reader smut set after his revolution match from @lambofjudgement! sorry I lost your ask somewhere babe, I was trying to put it in my drafts before so I could prepare the answer but then I couldn't find it anymore. Also sorry this took so long to come out and it's this big, yall this is why my requests take so long, I often end up turning them into much bigger things, esp if I like the concept. anyways, here it is, horny and rough cowboy action. thank you so much for the request I loved writing it and it made me 3x hornier for the hangster which has actually enhanced my quality of life!

Wednesday nights at the bar were always slow. Few people went out to drink in the middle of the week, and most of the ones who did were familiar faces, long time patrons who either drank too much or lived under weird schedules. Not that you were one to judge, you’d had your own ups and downs in life, so you didn’t care much. Besides, your job was to serve drinks, not ask questions. Not unless people wanted you to, some always did, but most just wanted to be left alone. And so you did, happy to serve orders that you knew like the back of your hand and be surrounded by faces you'd seen a dozen times before. So, it was a wonder when you spotted somebody new.

It was way past the middle of your shift when he came in, movement in the bar slowing down as the clock already marked eleven in the night. Music played softly in the background as you cleaned the stone counter, the bar mostly empty. Just a few people hang around, the odd couple here and there, the low noise of their conversations filling the space in between. You’d been sitting in a chair and just looking through your phone when he came up to the counter, blue eyes looking around before he spotted you. To see a new face on a Wednesday night was a surprise already. For that new face to be a big guy with a black eye was something else.

Your first worry at the sight was that he’d be some sort of troublemaker. A big, strong looking dude walks into your bar with a busted eye, there is no way you wouldn’t worry. Today was one of the few days you didn’t get to stay until closing, the last thing you needed was a problem patron right at the end of your shift. You looked him up and down, looking for any suspicious sign, any small thing that could count as a warning. But contrary to your fears, the man just politely asked for an old fashioned in a voice so quiet you almost couldn’t hear it. His demeanor seemed so different from the rough look in his face that you almost couldn’t believe it.

As you started preparing the cocktail he struck up conversation - another surprise to you, usually the types to show up looking like trouble were the ones who liked to drink in silence. A heavy southern accent spilled through his words as he made small talk, he was charismatic and good at conversation and despite his looks, he sounded nice enough. You quickly learned his name was Adam and that he wasn’t from this city, just passing by for work. He never specified what he worked at, and you didn’t press either, you had more interesting questions in your mind. Questions that could help you decide whether this guy fine or if you should be pulling the crowbar from under the counter.

“So,” you started, going back to cleaning your shaker as you tried to pretend you weren’t quite so curious, “looking like you had a rough day there, buddy.”

“Ah,” Adam stuttered in his words, one hand coming to touch the skin under his swollen eye, an awkward smile playing on his lips, “yeah, not my best, but at least I’m alive.”

You smiled back at him, trying to set him a bit more at ease. His answer made it seem like whatever happened to him hadn’t been by his own choice, but you still felt curiosity getting the better of you. You’d try one more time, if he didn’t want to answer, you’d let it drop.

“Mind if I ask what happened?” You leaned into the counter, pulling your chair closer to him as you sat down.

“Well,” Adam looked around, taking a deep breath before his gorgeous eyes fell back to you, soft gaze wavering just slightly. “Guess I caught the attention of the wrong person.”

You looked back at him, a grimace coming to your face for just a second as his blue eyes looked into his cup, a large hand twirling the dark liquid around. The guy clearly didn’t want to discuss what happened, so you wouldn’t ask anymore. Besides, if what he said was true, it seemed he’d fallen in with the wrong crowd. You’d seen that story play a dozen times, it never really ended well.

“Shit,” you replied with a sympathetic smile, Adam watching you from the corner of your eyes as he drank his whiskey, “let’s hope you don’t have to go through that again.”

“Yeah, let’s hope for that,” he retorted with a small laugh, raising his glass to you before taking a large gulp.

Adam was more than glad when you dropped the subject. His body was still sore and freshly bruised from his encounter with Moxley, but in the end, he’d come out alive. No matter the cost. But he had come to the bar with the intention of forgetting that very match, forgetting just how far he had to go to win it. His body refused to let go, it refused to slow down from the sheer violence it had gone through, but his mind needed the break. He needed it desperately.

So went looking for the first bar that seemed like nobody there would be watching any sort of sport whatsoever, and that’s how he found this place. From the outside, the bar looked like a hole in the wall, and the minute he stepped in, he was quick to figure out why. It was a punk bar - or at least some sort of underground rock bar. The place didn’t want to be noticed because it catered to a particular clientele, and right now, Adam was all too happy for it.

When he entered the place, it seemed nice enough, and the fact that people seemed not to care about his presence was a welcomed change. But from the moment he sat on the counter, however, he only had eyes for you. Maybe it was the violence still coursing through him, trying to find another outlet to escape - or maybe you just looked that good. But the moment his eyes found you, he could feel something in his body stir, even as he tried to push it down. Even as he tried to tame whatever part of him that was behaving so much like an animal.

As Adam asked for a drink, he could see your eyes judging him, heavy stare regarding him with violent suspicion. Even your burning glare and tough demeanor did nothing to lessen his powerful and sudden attraction. He made polite conversation, trying to keep his wandering eyes under control and hoping he could avoid the obvious topic of what happened to him. It didn’t really work, but he was glad you were quick to drop the subject when you noticed his vague answers. He had come to the bar trying to be something else, somebody other than the person he’d been at the ring. He wanted to forget what he had to do today, and if just for a night, be cleansed of this whole issue with Moxley. And as he continued chatting with you, a part of him hoped you could help with that.

Soon, you found yourself enjoying what was supposed to be just polite small talk. Adam had a charm around him, a certain magnetism that made it hard not to smile and his words and laugh at his every joke. And it’s not like his looks were helping either, despite the purple bruise on his swollen eye he still looked beautiful, blond hair framing his face in the most flattering way. Hell, maybe the bruise made him even more so, adding this air of dangerous mystery to his soft blue eyes. Clashing with the sweetness of his deep voice and the warmth of his laughter.

Though you weren’t stupid, before he was even done with the drink you could tell he was trying to hit on you. You could see his baby blues wandering from your eyes to your mouth before going back up. The drawl of his voice sounding so welcoming as he tried to smooth talk you. This wasn’t your first rodeo, you’d seen plenty of others try this before - most not even half as good looking as him, though. But you played along, half out of boredom and half out of honest interest. You had no special plans for the night, and you wouldn’t mind finishing it with such a handsome man between your legs.

You two went like this for a little while, flirting and talking whenever you didn’t have to serve something or another to someone who’d come up to the counter. Adam was a good talker, charming and polite, with a deep voice and a thick accent that you wouldn’t mind listening to for a long while. He’d arrived at the bar quiet and almost defeated, but as the whiskey worked its way around his body he started perking up, laugh coming easier as he started to relax. It was when you were putting away one of the bottles, back turned to him, that he hit you with a question you wanted to hear.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” he started, taking a sip from his whiskey as you turned back to him, “what are you doing tomorrow?”

“Are you trying to ask the bartender out, Adam?” You asked teasingly.

“If she’ll have me,” he replied, voice a deep rumble as a smile played on his beautiful lips.

“She’d love to,” you leaned into the counter, smiling back at him before cocking your head to the side, pulling your body further from him. “You are shit out of luck, though, I gotta see my brother and nephew tomorrow. Haven’t seen the brat in a while, can’t back down this time,” you saw his smile drop, shoulders slumping slightly as he took in your answer, but before he could respond you continued. “But, if you aren’t scared of being out this late, my shift ends in half an hour.”

“Well, darling,” he smiled again, tongue licking a droplet of his drink that spilled down his lip, his voice thick and inviting, “I’m not afraid if you aren’t.”

When your shift ended, you changed quickly back into your normal clothes, an old band t-shirt with the neckline and sleeves cut off tucked into the jeans you’d worn for work. Pulling Adam by the hand, you quickly drag him away from the bar, through the front exit and into an empty street. When he protests about where you are going, you just tell him that it’s going to be somewhere nice, enjoying his look of shock and confusion. He was clearly surprised at the ease with which you traversed through the silent streets. You may be horny, but you weren’t just about to get into a room with this guy without giving him a run for it first, just to make sure you weren’t going to die.

It’s about a fifteen minute walk before you pull up to a partially hidden park, Adam’s eyes widening as he takes in the sight. The park was surrounded by large buildings, if someone didn’t know it was there, they probably wouldn’t have found it. That by itself was already something, but mounted somewhere in the park was a projector he couldn’t see. All he could see was the large black and white movie projected in one of the gray walls, the sounds of it coming from further ahead. You pulled at his hand again, taking him from his state of shock, holding two beer bottles in your hand as you led the way forward.

You stopped by a tree a little further away from where most of the people were gathering. There were few people sitting around in the park, most of them gathered in a spot closer to the projection. You had chosen a place by the side of it, not central but still visible. Handing him the beer, you leaned back into the large tree, Adam following suit. The projection was of an old horror movie, some black and white creature feature he’d never seen before.

As you talked a few minutes, he discovered you knew the man who ran this outdoor screening - he was the owner of the bar. It was an event that happened twice a week, and you’d come here after work to wind down. In the back of his head, Adam wondered if you could see just how much he needed to wind down. You talked and laughed at the movie for a while, and he could feel his body and mind starting to relax. The ghosts of what had happened hours before seeming more distant now. He felt lighter, laughing with disregard at something from the movie when your voice interrupted him.

“So, was the impromptu date worth it?” You ask, voice and eyes betraying your desire.

“Very much so,” he replies, letting his own desire drip through his voice, turning his body towards you.

“Then I guess I deserve a reward?” You question, already leaning closer to him, a mischievous smile painted on your face.

Adam reciprocates the gesture, leaning forward and closing the space between you, crashing his lips into yours. He brings a hand to hold your face, the other sneaking around your waist as he feels your hands touch his chest. Your lips taste like citrus to him, they are soft and sweet, and he wouldn’t mind staying in their taste. Adam bites softly into your lower lip, making you whimper in his arms, and he takes that opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. His touch starts light but very quickly becomes rougher as he feels you lean into the kiss more, arms coming around his neck, your chest pressing against his.

His strong hand holds you by the back of your head, tongue tasting every bit of the soft wetness of your mouth. He can still feel the beer over the citric flavor of your lips, the faint taste of alcohol dancing on your tongue. You moan into his lips and Adam shivers, cock twitching in his pants at the sensation. He doesn’t want to, but he has to break the kiss for air, lips finding your neck the moment he regains his breath. You smell like wood and cinnamon and something sweet, and it has him intoxicated.

You moan under his touch, a hand slipping into his blond hair as the other goes back to his broad chest. He looked strong before, but now under your touch he feels impressive. Thick shoulders feeling solid like rock to your fingers, powerful arms holding you in a vice like grip. He could snap you in half if he wanted, you were sure, but he doesn’t, hand cradling your head gently as he devours your neck. His presence feels almost addictive to your senses, the feeling of his body on yours, the taste of his mouth, the way he smells like leather and moss. It’s all too much and not enough at the same time.

Tugging on his hair, you pull his face back to yours, lips meeting with a needy cry. You slip your tongue into his mouth, tasting the beer and whiskey on him. He growls through the sloppy kiss as your hand travels from his chest and down his solid torso. You feel his grip on your waist harden as your fingers slowly move down. He takes over the kiss, biting and licking with fervor, abusing your lips while the hand on the back of your head keeps you in place. Your fingers slip past his belt, finding the rough texture of his jeans and the clear bulge pressing against the fabric. It feels big, hard and hot, and you need to have it now.

Slipping your other hand down, you work fast to unbuckle his belt before Adam can protest - though, something tells you he wouldn't really do that. Breaking from the kiss, you look him in the eyes, the blue all but gone as his dilated pupils take over the space. You let your hands hover over the button of his pants for a second to see if he’d stop you, when he doesn’t, you undo it fast, pulling the zipper down in a haste. You slip your hand down into his pants, looking around you for a moment, counting on the distance from the people and the cover of the dim light to keep you safe.

When you finally pull out his cock, Adam shudders, a low grunt escaping his lips. God, he looks so good, big, thick and hard as metal on your hand. You can’t wait to taste it, lowering your body down until your lips are almost at his head. Looking back at him, you catch his darkened eyes trailed on your mouth as he leans back into the tree trunk. You teasingly slip your tongue out, licking his sensitive head. He trembles in your hand with an erotic noise, and that’s when you dive in, finally taking him into your mouth.

Adam mutters a curse under his breath, words coming like a rumble from deep within his core. He watches as your pretty lips seal tight around his cock, sucking on the swollen tip, one hand gripping at his base. Shit, he usually wouldn’t do something like this, but he was way past caring right now. Your mouth felt so warm, so good, his need was the only thing running through his head at the moment. Taking one hand to your hair, fingers softly holding at the strands, he lets you set the pace, happy to just drench in the pleasure he felt.

You take him out of your mouth for a second and Adam almost whines at the loss of your warmth. He watches you kissing along his underside, going all the way down to the base of his hard length. Your wet tongue licks around his erection before finding a particularly sensitive vein on his underside. He hisses as you trail his length from the base to the slit slowly, pleasure bordering on pain at your torturous pace. A deep groan escapes his throat, as you take him in your mouth again. Adam looks around, just for safety, as he made more noise than he expected. There is nobody around, no one looking, you are still in the clear.

He watches you swallowing his thick cock a good two thirds of the way to the base. You felt so perfect, mouth warm and wet, and he can’t help the moan that leaves his mouth. This was so risky, but it felt so good, the adrenaline rush heightening his sensations. Adam watches as you bob your head up and down, the wet noises you are making sounding pornographic as they reach his ears. You work him so well, building up the tight coil in his core, and you hadn’t even taken him all in your mouth. Though, you didn’t even need to, he could already feel his body twitching at the pleasure, hips begging to buck into your soft lips.

You feel Adam’s grip tightening slightly in your hair, a groan rumbling through his body as it falls from his lips. His erection throbs against your lips as you take more of it in your mouth, you could feel the salty taste of precum already spilling from his slit. He was thick and long, and you were struggling to take in all of him, but fuck, you really wanted to. You feel the swollen head of his cock hit the roof of your mouth, so big and hot that it pulls a moan from you, the vibrations going straight to his length. Adam moans out your name, a string of praises falling from his lips.

Bobbing your head up and down, you start to take more of him. You feel his cock throbbing in your mouth as his hips buck up. You can tell he is trying to keep control of his movements, but it’s clearly not going very well. Your lips come close to his base, and he growls, the sinful sound making your core tighten and your body shiver. He starts praising you again, his words emboldening you to move, his thick cock filling up the inside of your mouth, precum leaking vigorously now. Gagging slightly, you feel his cock reaching the back of your throat, his hand caressing your head as his murmurs never cease. When your lips finally circle his base, he shudders under you, whispered praises morphing into an unintelligible moan.

Adam feels himself twitch and throb at the sensation, his erection surrounded by the warm wetness of your mouth. You start moving again, and he has to fight the need to thrust into your beautiful lips. He feels almost delirious as you bob your head, taking him all the way to the balls every time. His dirty praises turn to a string of curses that fall from his lips like mad prayers, the feeling of your wet mouth dragging along his sensitive cock having him in a trace. Your tongue presses just right on the thick vein on his underside, stimulating the sensitive spot until he can’t help the bucking of his hips.

You could feel his hard length throbbing between your lips, he tastes so damn good, so sinfully delicious. His engorged head hits against your cheeks as you suck, salty precum coating your tongue. The hand on your head grips tighter onto your hair, but he doesn’t try to move you, even though he can’t help the thrusting of his hips anymore. You are moving with ease now, slobbering down his heavy erection, the mix of saliva and pre cum making it all easier.

He was coming close, you could feel it, his body shaking under your touch and his voice becoming rougher and filled with desire. You begin to feel his thick cock throb and twitch as his hips buck harder. He tasted good, so good, and the feeling of his hot skin against your tongue had you groaning into his length. Adam started to lose himself in moans and praises that spilled out of his perfect lips almost mindlessly. You could feel his powerful legs twitching and trembling from the pleasure.

Adam was panting, the knuckles on the hand he had on the ground turning white. Shit, you felt so damn perfect, mouth wet and hot as you took his cock so fucking well. All he could think of was how perfect you felt, the way you took all of him in your mouth, the throbbing of his length as it rubbed on your tongue, and it was all so damn good. When you groaned into his cock, it was too much to take, the coil within him snapping with a thunderous shudder that shook his whole body.

The hand on your head held you in place, length buried almost to the hilt in your mouth, swollen head close to the back of your throat as his release began to spill. Rope after thick rope of cum shooting from his tip, flooding your mouth before flowing down your throat as you started to swallow it. It tasted strong and so damn good and there was so much, your core throbbed at the thought of having him filling your pussy with it. You sucked Adam through his orgasm, making sure to milk him to the last drop of his cum before you let him go from your mouth and tucked him back into his jeans.

You closed his pants and belt before coming back up to his eye level again. The moment you did, he pulled you into a harsh kiss, tasting himself in your mouth as you immediately let his tongue inside. The kiss was rough and sloppy and despite having just had his release, Adam still needed more. Pulling away from the wetness of your mouth, he held your face close to his own, strong hand holding you by the strands of your hair, his eyes savoring your red and swollen lips for a second before finding your gaze.

“Fuck, you are so damn good. I’m gonna take you to my hotel room ‘cause I really need to fuck you right now,” his words came in a grunt, voice deep and husky and filled with desire, his mouth was so close to your face that you could feel his breath on you.

You nodded, and that was all the confirmation Adam needed. Getting up in a haste, he pulled you up by the arm, quickly making his way to the entrance of the park. He got you both a cab, keeping you locked in a sloppy kiss as you waited for the car to arrive. The drive to his hotel was short, but you could tell was fighting the need to just ravage you on the way as his hand held your thigh in a strong grip. When you entered the elevator, the two of you were already at each other’s mouths, too needy and desperate to care about the obvious camera watching your intense kiss.

The minute Adam locked the door, you were already working on the buttons of his shirt, pushing him back into the hard wood as your lips found his neck. His skin felt hot to the touch, burning up against your mouth as you trailed your tongue from his shoulder all the way to his jaw. Your hands clumsily opened the first few buttons of his shirt, feeling the soft hairs on his chest brushing against your fingertips. A part of you wanted to rip his shirt open, an animalistic display of desire. But you wouldn’t do it, no matter how much you wanted, and by god you did. His smell had you intoxicated, and you could barely wait to feel him inside you.

With a rough movement, Adam pulled your mouth to his, calloused hands grabbing you by the chin and holding you in place as his lips crashed on yours. Opening your mouth, you let him take what he wanted, because you wanted it so much too. His tongue immediately slipping between your lips, the kiss rough and sloppy. You could still taste the bitterness of the beer in him, accompanied by the slight remnants of the whiskey he’d had at the bar. The biting sting of alcohol only making the kiss feel all the more erotic.

The hand on your face traveled to the back of your neck, gripping hard to keep you in place, thick fingers digging into your skin. His free hand circled around your waist, pulling you flush into his strong body, closing whatever tiny distance there was between you. His touch was hot, searing iron marking his path around your body, setting your nerves in a burning haze. Your head felt dizzy, and you didn’t know if it was the alcohol or if you were running out of breath, but god, you couldn’t care less. You wanted more. More of the smell of his skin, more of the taste of his tongue, more of his touch wherever you could have it.

Adam was the one to break the kiss, gasping for air as his strong arms caged your body against his. In the darkness of the room, you couldn’t see his eyes, only feel the heat of his ragged breath on your skin and hear the faint groan slipping from his lips. It sounded raspy and tense, like the promise of something powerful and wild hiding below the surface. Something mysterious and alluring that spoke to a deep part of your mind.

The moment you felt oxygen rush back to your head, your lips found the exposed expanse of his chest. You kissed and licked your way around his heated skin, tasting whatever you could of him as your fingers went back to working on his buttons. He pulled you even closer together, your crotch rutting against his, and you could feel his erection through his jeans. The large bulge rubbing against your pants, your pussy tightening at the thought of having him fully sheathed inside of you.

Your wet tongue against his chest had Adam grunting loudly, sound filling the emptiness of his hotel room. At this rate, you were going to drive him crazy, turn him into something made of only instinct and desire. He could feel your hands opening the buttons on his shirt, slowly inching closer and closer to his crotch, the anticipation building a raging fire within him. By now, he was already painfully hard again, the smell of your hair and the feeling of your body against his own having his blood rushing down in a matter of seconds. It hadn’t been even a full twenty minutes since he’d cum in your mouth back in the park, but he didn’t care, he still felt his balls full, and he needed to unload inside of you again.

Digging his fingers through your locks, Adam pulled on your hair hard, savoring the sweet moan that escaped your plump lips. Bringing your face back to his own, his lips brushed against yours for a long moment before he dove into the kiss, teeth sinking into your lip before he sucked it into his mouth. His hand on your waist traveled lower, grabbing a handful of your ass and groping you hard, fingers digging into your soft flesh through the fabric of your pants. You cried into the kiss and Adam couldn’t help the rutting of his hips against your own, he felt like an animal, but his need was well beyond control at this point.

When his tongue entered your mouth, you moaned again, sound silenced by his greedy lips. You could feel him grunt, the vibrations in his chest reverberating into your hands, powerful muscles shaking under your touch. You worked your way to his last button, hands caressing his heated skin on their way down. When your fingers touched his belt buckle, you felt his hands leave your body, but it lasted only a moment. Soon they found the back of your legs, pulling them up in a swift movement.

You broke away from the kiss, a surprised noise leaving your throat as he pulled you by your thighs, knees coming around his waist. On instinct, your hands found his shoulder, the fear of the fall ringing loud through your ears. Though, you soon realized he had you in a strong hold, barely a noise coming from him as he lifted your body with ease and started to make his way to the bed. His strong arms held you in place against him, broad shoulders feeling powerful under your soft palms.

In the darkness of the night, you could barely see the outline of the things in the room. The large windows had their curtains open, but there was nearly no moon in the sky today, and you were so high up that almost no buildings could shine a light through the clear glass. You could only believe that Adam was traveling by instinct through the large space, long strides almost unencumbered by your weight. In his arms you felt light as a feather, solid muscle holding you close with ease as he walked.

In a few steps you felt him come to a stop, throwing your body into the large bed, the soft touch of the covers caressing your skin. There was a long moment of stillness as you laid there, watching the outline of his body move in the darkness. You heard a clicking noise and suddenly a dim amber light bathed the bedroom, coming from a floor lamp that stood beside Adam. The warm glow bathed his light skin, beautiful blue eyes darkened by lust. Even the black eye marking his face looked good on him. You only had a second to bask in his wild beauty before he climbed onto the bed, the mattress shaking under his weight.

With a swift movement, Adam pulled his shirt from inside his pants, violently removing it from his body before throwing it aside. That was the first time you got a full look at him under that shirt, solid ropes of muscle rippling under the skin of his arms and shoulders as he moved. Small scratches and bruises adorned his thick torso, whatever this man had gone through, it had left multiple marks. Still, somehow they only made him look better, marred skin only adding to his exquisite pull.

Slowly, Adam crawled over you, large frame covering your body as his face hovered over yours for a long, intense moment. You could feel his hot breath on your skin, the anticipation of this near touch driving you insane before his lips finally crashed on your own. His mouth was as hot as his skin, your hands flying to his chest and shoulders as his tongue tasted everything it could touch. He growled into the kiss, sound dying on your mouth, but the vibrations rolling through his thick chest and into your hands. He was diving into you like a starving man, and you were all too happy to reciprocate.

Holding himself up in one arm, Adam took his free hand to your hips, pulling a part of your shirt from inside your pants before slipping under it. His calloused palms savoring the soft touch of your heated skin. His fingers sunk deep into your tender flesh as they moved up through your curves, taking in as much of your body as he could. You felt so supple under his touch, so welcoming to his large hands as his mouth devoured yours with fervor. The kiss was growing sloppier by the second, tongues and lips wet and warm in a mindless dance. He wanted to sink deep into you, and he didn’t care if he would come back again.

Pulling away from your lips, Adam broke the kiss for air, but in a moment his mouth found the skin of your jaw, kissing his way to your neck. You moaned under his touch, squirming beneath him as he bit into your soft skin, the taste of your body having him intoxicated. He could feel your nails digging into his back, adding to the scratches he’d been given during the match. Your hips bucked against his, giving his large bulge the friction it so desired, stoking the fire burning deep into his core.

His mouth traveled from your neck to your shoulder, kissing and biting a wet trail down to the neckline of your shirt, his beard brushing against your sensitive skin. Without a warning he sat up on his knees, looking down at your body with pure desire before he started hastily taking off your shirt. His thick fingers digging at the waistband of your pants, roughly tugging at the dark fabric. Pulling it free, he slides it over your head and arms as you angle your body to help get the damn thing off. Adam throws it to the side, uncaring about where it lands, eyes finally finding his prize.

Broad hands find your exposed torso, his fingers digging into your curves as darkened blue eyes devour you like a hungry beast. Your skin glistened under the warm glow of the lamp, looking deliciously soft as your chest rose and fell in ragged breaths. Adam stays still for only a moment, savoring the sight before his hands travel upwards, rough palms committing your warmth to memory. Licking his lips, he finds his target, large fingers groping your breasts, kneading the soft flesh as he growls low and dark.

You watch as his eyes follow the movements of his hands, the sound that just left his throat having a shiver running through your body. He is gripping hard on your tender flesh, bordering the threshold of pain but never crossing it. The pleasure is building up slowly, but you still want more, you try to squirm, but he has you pinned under his weight, so heavy that he doesn’t even seem to register your movements. When his fingers find your nipples, rolling them between his index and thumb, you almost scream. The sound that leaves your mouth akin to the cry of a desperate animal.

The noise seems to be what breaks him, Adam’s eyes turning back to your face for a moment before he dives back to your mouth. He descends on you like a wave, lips crashing against yours before you can even close them, tongue slipping inside in a second. You almost feel like you are drowning in him, but you have no desire to resist. His body covers yours completely, one of your hands flying back to his shoulders, nails digging deep. Your other hand travels to the back of his head, fingers threading into his soft hair and tugging tight.

Adam responds with a deep grunt, mouth leaving yours and moving to your breasts, biting and sucking at the soft skin. You feel his hands move to your waist, fiddling with the button of your jeans before finally pulling it open, zipper following suit. His fingertips dig into the skin of your hips, sliding past the fabric of your panties and teasing you with light touches. You try again to squirm under him, earning only a soft groan as his lips finally find one of your nipples, licking and sucking at it with the same hunger he showed your mouth.

Pleasure ripples through your body, a loud moan coming from deep within you, but you still want more. You slip the hand on his shoulder down his naked torso, feeling his warm skin and the hairs on his chest, digging your fingers into whatever you could touch. Soon you reach his pants, going past his leather belt and straight to the bulge straining against his tight jeans. It feels big and hot to the touch, even through the thick fabric. You hear Adam groan under your touch, the animalistic sound only urging you on, hands rubbing and tugging at his clothed cock.

A raspy moan sounds from him, your nipple slipping from his warm mouth as he sits up again, a fast movement that has his blond hair falling to his eyes. With one hand, he brushes it back, gaze fixed on you as he pauses for a moment. Without breaking eye contact, both his hands fall to his belt, undoing the buckle and pulling it out in a flash, the leather snapping as it slips from the hoops. It, too, is thrown to the side with little care, his fingers then finding the button of his jeans and pulling down the zipper. You try to reach for him, hands dying to grasp at his cock, but he pulls away, getting up from the bed before finally taking off what was left of his clothes.

God, this man is the most sinful thing you’ve seen in a while. His large frame looms over you, large cock looking delicious, precum already gathering at the tip. Before you can even move, Adam’s hands fly to your hips as he starts to pull on your pants. Soon he has your clothes and shoes in a mess on the floor. You are left bare, fully exposed to his hungry eyes. You reach out to touch him, and he lets you this time. Kneeling before him on the bed, your lips find the skin of his torso, kissing your way down, fingers grasping at his thick cock, lazily moving up and down. Just as your mouth reaches its destination, tongue licking at his sensitive head, getting a shiver out of him, Adam pulls your head back by your hair.

“As much as I really like your mouth,” he breathes out, accent thick as he watches you licking your lips, “I want something else now. Come on, get on your knees for me, darling.”

You shiver at the sound of his voice, following his request and positioning yourself on your hands and knees on the bed, arching your back so your chest touches the covers. You feel the mattress dip under Adam’s weight as he climbs on it, a growl sounding from behind you, deep and rough and dripping with lust. A large hand touches your ass, groping it hard before his grip grows lighter, fingers traveling from your hips to your back in a soft touch that has your pussy aching. You want so much more - need so much more - and not seeing his movements only makes your desire grow.

His hand travels back to your hips, sliding over the curve of your ass as you feel his body coming closer to yours, his hard cock touching your soft skin. You whimper, craving more of his touch, pushing back into him, but his strong hand holds you in place, a humming noise coming from behind you. His free hand finds your inner thigh, and you moan at the light touch. It slides up until it finds your wet pussy, thick fingers diving into your warm flesh with a low growl from him. You arch your back further, whimpering again as he massages your folds and teases your entrance.

Adam feels his fingers slide over your pussy with ease, your wetness coating his hand as his cock twitches in response. A rumble emerges from deep within his chest as the hand on your hips grips harder into the softness of your flesh. He bends his torso over your body, lips touching the skin of your back in warm wet kisses while his thick fingers tease your clit. You moan a soft and breathy sound and Adam drinks it in greedily, the hand on your hip traveling up your torso until it finds your breasts.

His kisses run up your spine, beard teasingly scratching your skin as he moves to your shoulder and neck, sinking his teeth into your skin, savoring its taste. You cry out, pushing your body further against his, rubbing your ass against his sensitive cock, and he growls, a shiver running through his body at the delicious friction. You have him feverish with desire, lust burning bright within his core, and he just can’t take it anymore. Pulling away from your body, his hand goes back to holding you by the hips, the one on your pussy leaving your soft flesh to find his length, pumping himself a couple of times to coat it in your wetness.

He looks at your exposed form in the dim light of the room, lust chasing all the blue from his eyes as they follow your curves. Blown out pupils devour your body as Adam gives himself one last tug before lining his cock with your pussy, sliding it up and down your wetness teasingly with a low groan. You whimper and try to press into him again, this time he gives in, sliding his thick erection almost all the way in. Curses spill from his mouth at the sensation, your soft walls wrapping around him in the most delicious ways.

A husky and needy moan escapes your lips as you feel him entering your body, thick cock filling you up and lighting all your nerves ablaze. He feels so sinfully good, better than you expected, pleasure spreading through your body like wildfire. The hands on your hips grip tighter, and he starts to move, slowly pulling back out before sliding in again. You can feel every bump and vein of his cock dragging against your pussy as he thrusts further in. That’s when you notice he wasn’t even fully sheathed in you before, his hard length reaching deeper into your body as he stretches your walls.

His movements are slow and deliberate, dragging your insides on every curve of his cock as he pushes his way in. You feel his swollen head pressing deliciously against your soft walls. This time Adam makes it all the way inside, you feel his hips meet yours as his strong hands pull your ass back against his body, a hiss escaping his lips. Your pussy tightens around his length, the fullness making you whimper, a high pitched noise that almost doesn’t resemble your own voice.

Adam starts moving again, strokes long and slow as he works himself in you from the tip to the base. You are mewling in pleasure, nails digging into the soft covers of the bed. He sets a hard and heavy rhythm that rocks your hips every time he bottoms out. Your pussy clings to his cock with every slide, walls quivering around his hard length. You feel his fingers sliding down your back until it finds your shoulder, large palm pressing into you into the bed with his weight as his movements start to speed up.

“Fuck, you’re so damn good,” he mutters more to himself than to you, words spilling in a haze as he drives his body violently into yours.

Desire starts taking over Adam’s mind, hips moving faster as your walls pulsate against him, making his cock twitch within you. You feel way too good, and he can’t get enough, rubbing his pelvis against yours as he bottoms out every time. Your ass pushing even further into him as you seek his touch. The sensation of your wet pussy around him, the erotic sound of your moans and whimpers, the feeling of your heated skin on his own, it all has his mind reeling, the coil in his core tightening ever further.

Using his forearm to hold himself on the bed, Adam curves over your body, covering your back with his broad chest as his hand finds one of your breasts. He traces your neck and shoulders with his mouth, tongue savoring your taste as he lays sloppy kisses and light bites on your sensitive flesh. Sweat starts building between your bodies, heated skin rubbing against each other as you move in rhythm. You tremble under his touch and Adam feels it, feels the moan that rumbles out of your throat, his cock twitching in response. Your cries sound so needy and so sweet, he just can’t get enough.

Adam can feel the soft, warm walls of your pussy tightening around him and pulling a grunt from deep in his throat. His hips hammer against yours, making you spasm with every stroke, your ass pushing into him, trying to take his length even deeper. Biting hard on your shoulder, he moves the hand on your hip down to your core, finding your sensitive clit. His thick fingers slide over your wet cunt, relinquishing your wetness as he massages your folds. You tighten around him impossibly so, his thick cock twitching in response as he growls. Your pussy feels like it was made for him, and he pushes in deep, whole body shuddering as you cry out his name.

You feel like you are going mad under his touch, his weight pressing you against the bed as his fingers massages your clit just right. His body feels molded for yours, the head of his cock hitting your sweet stop with every thrust. Your senses begin to overwhelm you, a tightness in your core getting close to snap faster and faster. A desperate cry sounds from your lips as Adam’s hips snap against yours, your ass pushing further into him. He is muttering curses under his breath, so close to your ear that you feel its warmth, his voice intoxicating you. It only takes one more flick of his finger and you break, crying in a high pitched voice as your senses melt away, vision going white and all you can feel is your pussy convulsing around him.

Your walls tighten around his throbbing cock, Adam riding through your orgasm as your pussy tries to milk him. The noises you make only pull him closer to the edge, biting into your skin again as he tries to hold on. Pushing himself up in one fluid motion, his hands return to your hips, pulling you to him as his strokes become harder. He is thrusting into you deep and fast, chasing that high that was building in him.

“Atta, girl,” he growls loud and dark, deep voice having you trembling as he thrusts into your oversensitive pussy.

His cock twitches and spasms more now, the coil in his gut tightening close to its limit. A roar leaves Adam’s lips, the sound of a wild thing, a caged beast ready to break away. He thrusts hard into you, breathless whimpers spilling from your soft lips as he slams forcefully into your abused pussy. He wants to mark your insides, the thought of filling you up flooding his mind. A part of him wants to stay like this forever, buried in your soft wetness, fucking your body hard and rough. But he feels his balls tight and heavy and so fucking full, he just can’t help but to chase his release.

Strong hips slam into you, his rhythm growing rougher and more aggressive as he feels himself getting to the edge. He is pulling you impossibly close, pushing his thick length as deep as he can go, and then deeper. You give a breathless moan of his name, walls convulsing around him and it’s all he can take, cock throbbing wildly inside of you. Stars take over Adam’s vision and he drives deep within you, burying his length all the way to the balls. His orgasm hits him with power, a rough and husky groan coming from deep inside his chest as he rides it.

Adam’s cock explodes in you as he fucks your soft pussy, deep thrusts driving his seed deep inside your body. He shoots rope after rope of white, thick cum, a torrent that seems never ending. He drains his heavy balls in you for the second time that night, flooding your pussy as your name slips from his mouth like the prayers of a damned man. Staying still for a second, he lets the high wash over him before pulling out, drinking in the whimper that leaves your mouth at his absence.

He falls to the side, laying heavy on the bed as you follow suit, both too exhausted to speak. For a minute, you both just stay still, breathing deep as you try to recover. You feel your whole body trembling, but you’ve never felt better before. The bed moves, signaling that Adam had gotten up. You stay still for a few more moments until you feel the mattress dip again, turning to the side to find Adam sitting by you with a towel in hand. The soft blue has returned to his beautiful eyes, the combination of his messy hair and dark bruise on his face looking way too goon on him.

Adam helps you clean up, for someone with such a rough exterior, covered in bruises and scratches, he is the definition of a gentleman. His touch is so light and soft that it seems unimaginably far from the violence with which he’d fucked you just a few minutes prior. It sends a shiver through your spine to think of how powerful these hands are and how gentle they felt. Not that you were complaining, this softness seemed to suit him well. You wouldn’t mind being treated with such tender care every day, especially not by a man as handsome as him.

When you wake up the next morning, sunlight was already entering through the wide windows. Slowly you blinked your eyes, the world coming into focus with little hush. Your body felt a little heavy, a little sore, muscles aching slightly and sinking you further into the soft bed. Despite the ache, you felt good, more relaxed than you felt most mornings. It took a while, but your mind finally came to, remembering the night you’d had before.

As you really looked around, the first thing your eyes found was the vast expanse of Adam’s back. His light skin marked by multiple cuts and dark bruises that you hadn’t seen the night before. You wondered for a second just what it was that he’d gotten into, what sort of life laid behind this monument of a man. The previous night he’d felt wild, even aggressive, but he never made you feel unsafe. It really made you wonder what else there was to him.

Laying on your back, you stared at the empty ceiling for a second when a thought popped into your head. In the morning bliss, you’d forgotten you had somewhere to be today. Looking around, you spotted your pants, digging through them to find your phone. Checking the time, you saw it was already almost ten in the morning. Damn, you were hoping you could get some wake up sex, but you needed to be at your brother’s by midday. Fuck, he’d even sent you a text already. Just as you were checking the message, you felt a large hand touch your shoulder.

“Shit, I hurt you,” Adam’s voice was low and rough from sleep, his accent sounding thick on his groggy tone, your name spilling from his lips in the sweetest way, “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have bitten you so hard.”

You looked back at him, his fingers tracing a spot that stung a bit at his touch. In all honesty, you were barely feeling it, a sign that it probably looked worse than it was. Besides, you didn’t mind it anyway, you wouldn’t have changed a thing from the past night, even if he left a few marks on you.

“It’s ok,” you smiled at him, shaking your head as you turned your body to face his. “Don’t worry, Adam, it’s not hurting.”

“It’s purple,” he interjected, fingers traveling to your chest as he noticed another bruise in your breast, “and there is more than one. Fuck, really, I’m sorry I left you bruised.”

“It’s fine, really,” you whisper, voice soft as you run your thumb over his cheek, right below his bruised eye, “and now we are matching, I guess.”

Adam laughs and the hoarse sound fills the large bedroom, soft blue eyes coming to your own. You feel his large hand snake around your waist, pulling you into his warm body, lips finding your own as you feel his hard cock touch your skin. The kiss starts soft, Adam teasing your lower lip until you finally open your mouth to let his tongue in. This time his touch is slow as he lazily tastes all that his tongue can find. It takes all of your strength to break away from the kiss, your hands coming to his broad chest as you try to create some space. You really can’t leave your brother hanging today.

“You so don’t need to apologize that if I could, I’d let you spend all day giving me more bruises,” you say, sighing dramatically before you continue, “but I really have to go. Gotta visit my brother and nephew, remember?”

With a sigh of his own, he lets go of your body, laying on his back as you roll to the other side. “If you could, I’d very much take you up on this offer,” he retorts, voice returning to normal as he looks back to you.

“Well,” you start, eyebrows raising as you reach back to the night stand by your side, picking up your phone and waving it in his direction, “I could give you my number if you want, next time you are around you could give me a call.”

His eyes lit up a bit at the offer, a small smile pulling at the corner of his lips. “Well, I’d like that very much, doll.”

You watch as Adam goes through his clothes to find his phone. When he does, you give him your number, he immediately sends you a message to make sure you have his contact. If you never see him again, this was a great night, but if you ever have a chance to repeat it, might as well try to grab it. You and him both get dressed pretty quickly, Adam insists on paying for your cab, even when you insisted he didn’t need to, in the end you just accept. He sees you out of the hotel and into the car, and so you make a peaceful trip back home.

It’s already past midday when you get to your brother, you feel bad for running late, but not really quite as much. You may have delayed his family lunch by about forty minutes, but it was for a good cause. Besides, it’s just you, him and his son, so it's not like that many people were harmed by your lateness. Lunch goes by pretty well and you still spend a few more minutes talking as your nephew goes back to the living room.

When you finally leave the table to go after the boy, you find him lying on the floor watching TV. The large screen glares over the living room and it doesn't take you long to realize he was watching wrestling. Your brother used to love it as a kid, and now so did his son - you had never really gotten that caught up in it. You were about to just disregard what was on the screen until something caught your eye. A recognizable silhouette seen from the corner of your vision. When you look back to the TV, you clearly recognize one of the figures on the screen. He was dressed in a full black cowboy get up, but there was no mistaking it, that was Adam.

In another part of town, Adam made his way through the hall of the large hotel, long strides carrying him from the elevator to the entrance. He was just leaving to go have lunch, it was a bit later than he normally would, but he’d spent most of his morning trying not to let his match with Moxley slip back into his mind. A fight he was ungracefully losing when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. Picking it up, he saw it was a message from you, and it had only one line.

‘So, why didn’t you tell me you are a cowboy?’

sponsored by: @xladyxfatex @wanderbreadsworld @madds-97 @morgan-bucks

#hangman adam page smut #hangman adam page x reader #adam page x reader #adam page smut #hangman adam page

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womanofwords · 9 months

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The Opposite Of You

Margo: Hey, you guys wanna see what the opposite of you is? Pavitr: I don't get it. Margo: A sample of your DNA goes into the collider and I get the perfect opposite of what you're like. Hobie: I don't believe in opposites. Margo: Who wants to try first? Miles: What do you mean by sample? Margo: Hair, spit, blood- Pavitr: *pulls out a strand of his hair* Take it and stop talking about blood! Hobie: I just wanna see how this goes. Margo: *takes the strand of hair and puts it in* I have a match! Pavitr: What does he look like? Margo: Here's a video. Pavitr's opposite: I hate street dogs, I hate helping people and chai tea is stupid! Pavitr: It's awful! Miles: Sorry you had to see that. Hobie: Let me try! *pulls out a strand of his hair* Margo: *takes out Pavitr's hair and puts Hobie's hair in* We have a match for you, too! Hobie's opposite: Today sounds like a wonderful day to contribute to the machine of capitalism, honour the royal family and uphold tradition! Gwen: Let's destroy it. Hobie: I already have a crowbar. Miles: Say no more. Pavitr: Nobody should be subjected to these horrors. Margo: YOU DECIDED THAT FAST?!

#creative writing #my writing #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman #incorrect spiderman quotes #miles morales #gwen stacy #pavitr prabhakar #hobie brown #margo kess

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whatyadrawin · 11 months

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Crystal Lake Shadows 18+ Only! Ch 5

Masterlist

Approximately 2,356 words

Pairing: Jason Voorhees x AMAB character

Warnings: Violence, strong language, strong sexual themes

A/n: This is a slow ass burn, but the scary levels of the writing was sort of taking over. Let me know if you got scared too or if I'm just a wuss.

Chapter 5

Sergio slowly opened his eyes to the bright morning sun beaming into his room, the sound of birds chirping happily was very audible and made him feel peaceful. The night before had left him tossing and turning for hours, thinking of the things that Rob had mentioned about the camp killer. Sergio could not even fathom a man 8 feet tall and overly muscular, keeping muscle on his own 6-foot frame was difficult enough as it is, he couldn’t imagine someone that tall being capable of all that bulk… if it was even true.

There was still a lot of assessment to be done at the lakeside property, Sergio gets himself ready and packs up his tools to bring down to the lodge. He walked past the storage closet and paused, his knife was in there, he would normally take his gun but, since the first trip to the lodge, it had gone missing, so he grabbed the knife. The drive to the property was similar to the last time, the sun was bright and made the surroundings shine with a welcoming warmth. As he began to pull up to the property he felt a strange feeling in his core, an uneasiness that felt like a small stone deep in his chest.

Sergio parked in the front as close as he could and stepped out, he looked around to see if he was alone. The trees were dense and the plants were overgrown so even if he looked really carefully, he wouldn’t be able to make out any shapes, which made the feeling in his chest worse. Sergio walked in through the door and started making his final evaluations, he took some photos and began working on a new design for the upstairs bedroom. He looked around the dust covered room which was left untouched after the previous owners left, he saw a knot hole in the wood floor that looked like there was extra space underneath. He knelt down to peer through the hole and saw something fluffy, like an old browned fabric. That’s so weird, is that a… plushie? Sergio was told the previous owners were a couple with adult offspring so a plush is very odd and out of place, the plank was slightly loose and hard to lift without a proper tool.

Sergio quickly made his way downstairs to his toolbox to grab a crowbar but the feeling in his gut suddenly grew colder and heavier. He stopped before the last step and listened, the outside world was as silent as a padded room, the only thing he could hear was his own breathing and the thumping of his heart. The feeling washed away after a few minutes and the birds outside started chirping once again, Sergio took a deep breath in and immediately looked around in case whatever caused the silence was still around. There was no one in the house, no one outside, and the doors were exactly as he had left them, he went to grab the crowbar from the toolbox and thought to himself What is it about this forest that feels like a looming darkness? Did a wild predator just pass by the house? Sergio refused to believe a crazed giant murderer was on the loose and wandering the lakeside as Rob liked to preach about, for his own sanity he would remain ignorant to the possibility.

Once back upstairs, Sergio got to work lifting the plank where the fluffy item was hiding; The effort needed to pull this plank up was tremendous and once he threw his whole body into it the plank lifted and a puff of dust wafted up into the room. Sergio coughed and waved his hand to clear the air and he squinted as he looked at what was underneath, an old teddy bear. The toy was so matted and worn, it had a button eye that didn’t match the other side as if it was sewn back on after damage took the original. He lifted the bear and looked over it, this little guy was well loved, who would hide it away like this? He brought the toy with him downstairs and placed it in his toolbox carefully, ensuring that it couldn’t get damaged further.

Sergio worked the rest of the day making design sketches and looking around the rooms, he got so entrenched in his work that he skipped lunch and didn’t realize how dark it got. Sergio started packing up his stuff to get out of the area before the sun would fully set, the forest made him feel extremely uneasy and he didn’t want to get into a bad situation. Once he stepped out of the front door, he turned to lock it up, the keys were stuck in the bottom of his pant pocket and he was struggling to retrieve them when suddenly he got a weird feeling he was being watched. Sergio looked around and couldn’t see much but the feeling really freaked him out, he finally got the keys free and quickly locked the door and ran to his truck. Once he shut his truck door, he locked it and started the engine up, the headlights lit up the forest and revealed a white-tail deer a short distance in front of him Jesus! I am getting all freaked out over a little deer? What is wrong with me? He laughed to himself and remembered the little raccoon that caused him to flip his lid in fear for no reason the day before.

The deer was standing so still it appeared as if it was fake, Sergio looked a little perplexed and decided to pull out to leave in case it was his lights scaring the little doe. He started slowly driving up to the path when he looked in his rearview to check if the deer bounced away, but he notices a strange shape in the house, a very large black shadow. He slowed down to look at the shadow, his eyes widened and he starts tearing up from the fear of not knowing what that massive shadow is, chills ran all the way through his body and the longer he looked the more the shadow distorted and started to look like… a man’s body.

Slamming down on the accelerator, Sergio blasted his way up the dirt road and he didn’t look back as he drove all the way back to the apartment as fast as he could manage, the whole way he kept repeating aloud

“What the fuck!? What the FUCK!?”

Once he arrived at the apartment, he turned off the engine and sat just staring at his steering wheel, tears streaming down his face. What the fuck was that thing? Was that Jason? I can’t go back there, I can’t! The café seemed to be full of patrons, and there were some people hanging out outside smoking. The crowd noises and bright street lights calmed Sergio down a bit as he felt he was out of danger now. He breathed a relieved sigh and got out of the truck to head up to his apartment, once he got to the upper floor, he noticed Marina was just leaving her apartment, when she turned around and saw him her face gave a worried look.

“Are you ok? You look like you’ve been crying?” she said in a calming tone

Sergio looked at her and forced a smile “Oh don’t worry about me its nothing, just allergies to all the flowers out in the woods” hoping she would buy the lie

Marina squinted her eyes at him and asked “Did you eat yet? You were out all day”

He walked over to his door and quietly replied “I haven’t eaten since the morning; it’s been a very busy day for me but I will scrounge up something in the fridge”

Marina did not look enthused, she put her hands on her hips and said “Listen hon, I’m heading back down to the café, I just needed to grab some extra soap for the kitchen why don’t you come back down with me and get something good to eat, it’s on me”

Sergio smirked and said “I really appreciate that but, tonight I need to be alone … I just feel tired from work today”

She rubbed his back a little and gave a concerned smile “I understand, I will bring something up here for you, I won’t be taking no for an answer! I get the feeling you need some comfort food tonight”

Sergio nodded and thanked her and she took off down the stairs. He opened the door to his apartment and shuffled in, he dropped his toolbox to the floor and went directly into the bedroom to flop down on the bed and close his eyes. Every time he started to drift off to sleep he felt a rush of fear and woke up, it happened four more times until he got fed up and just went over to watch the tv, maybe some shows will calm my nerves a bit so I can rest As he slumped into the recliner, he grabbed the remote and turned on the tv, the shopping channel was on and the mindless talking of the hosts made him feel a bit more at ease, until he heard a knock on the door which startled him.

A voice could be heard from behind the door saying “Hey, its Marina can I come in?”

He called over “Yeah its open come on in”

She opened the door gently and shut it behind her, she made her way over to him with a large brown paper bag. The smell of fried food immediately wafted in the room and Sergio’s stomach growled as if it just remembered it was empty. She lay down the bag on the coffee table and went into the kitchen to grab some plates and pour some water.

She opened the fridge and huffed “You have the emptiest fridge I’ve ever seen”

Sergio groaned and said “I think I only bought enough food for the first two days I was here, woops”

Marina walked back over with a plate and a glass of water, she sat in the chair next to Sergio and said “Well, there should be enough leftovers in there for your lunch tomorrow. You better eat up; I could hear your stomach complaining from the kitchen”

He leaned over the table and opened the bag to reveal a hamburger and fries, a container with mashed potatoes and gravy, some coleslaw, a Cesar salad, and some wrapped paninis. His face lit up at all the amazing food in front of him and he said “Marina, this is way too much! How much do I owe you?”

She smiled “I told you, it’s on me”

Sergio opened his mouth in shock “Why are you doing this? It’s so nice! I’m really surprised”

She said “You’re a really kind and handsome man; you can repay me by letting me know what happened today that make you cry.”

Sergio looked down at the food, he let out a sigh “I think I saw Jason”

Marina widened her eyes “What? Are you sure?”

He put his face in his hands and rubbed “I have no idea, maybe I was tired it’s been a weird day”

Sergio proceeded to tell Marina about the weird feelings he was having and the strange silence that hit the forest and then the shadow in the lodge; her face scrunched like she was freaked out but also trying to make sense of the information. He started to eat slowly and his eyes started to sting again from having to recount the experience so soon after it happened. Marina held his hand and gently caressed it, saying

“It’s ok to be freaked out, I would be too after all that weird stuff. I think you may have just been hallucinating from working all day with no food; and the forest being quiet must have been a bear or a coyote” she was doing her best to calm him and make sense of the things he experienced.

Sergio felt a lot calmer after that, he chose to believe the rationale and as soon as the fear and anxiety started to fade, he started digging into the food. Marina smiled and giggled

“I’m happy to see your appetite is making an appearance, you’ll feel a lot better after you eat”

Marina got up and made her way to the door saying “I have some annoying news for you unfortunately”

Sergio lifted his head to look at her “Hm?”

She rubbed the back of her head “So um, Rob said he’s gonna visit the lakeside property while you’re there”

He rolled his eyes and groaned “What’s that guys deal? Do you think he is going to try and fight me?”

Marina shrugged “I think he wants to try and spot Jason, and since there is another strong man out there that he likes… well, he won’t be so scared. He’s obsessed with seeing Jason, I think he just wants to feel vindicated in his ramblings”

Sergio sighed “Well, I’m glad I have that to look forward to; might be nice to not be alone, I guess. Hey thanks for the food, and the chat, it was helpful”

Marina headed for the door “Anytime friend, good night”

After she shut the door, Sergio finished his dinner and not only felt satisfied, but a lot less stressed out. As he began getting ready to go to bed, he couldn’t help but think about the shadow he saw, he swore he wasn’t hallucinating but it was so far away and so dark that it could have even been a bear that found its way in somehow, and stood on its hind legs it just looked so much like a man’s body… I must have just been so hungry I imagined it… I hope. He got into bed and kept the light on for comfort, within seconds sleep washed over him and a slew of nightmares followed. Another long night.

#Jason Voorhees #Jason x male character #Friday the 13th #slasher community #Slasher headcannon #Camp crystal lake #gay fanfiction #what ya writin #fanfiction

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redjaybathood · 2 years

Text

Jaysteph Soulmate AU

"Beg me," Joker grins down at him, poking Jason with the crowbar. "Beg me, and maybe I will leave you alive for your daddy to find."

"I'm begging you," Jason spits some blood on his pointy shoes. "To shut the fuck up. Your voice is killing me. How are you not ashamed to speak in public?"

"Not going to be my voice what kills you," Joker hits him again.

'It sure as hell isn't going to be you,' Jason thinks. 'Not my time yet.'

He has a mark on his chest, a robin. It's not Dick - Dick's is a shooting star, at the same time as Starfire has a yellow-blue bird. So Jason haven't met them, yet. Whoever his robin is.

And the ones who die without meeting their soulmates? They don't have a mark at all. Jason has one, ergo. Not dying in Kosovo.

Joker leaves when, he claims, his wrist started to hurt from being overworked. He activates the timer on a bomb, sure. But that's three whole minutes. Jason gets out of the handcuffs by dislocating his thumb. He has already some bones broken, so that's not a big deal. He's gonna make it, the most important thing is.

He's crawling on the floor to where the door is. Just a little bit, and again, and it hurts, but what can you do. He's getting out, so doesn't matter. Pain just reminds him he's alive.

And then he reaches the door. It's locked.

And then the timer reaches zero.

***

Soulmarks are symbolic, usually. Nobody goes around with first name, last name somewhere on the body. No, that would be too easy.

In any case, her own parents are a match, and it didn't help them any. Maybe Cluemaster interpreted the clues incorrectly. Maybe a red cross meant a doctor who patched him up when Riddler almost got his hands on him, and mom's question mark meant, well, Question. Maybe her mom just god pregnant with Steph and they looked at the ultrasound, and then at each other, and decided it was good enough.

Point is, Steph knows not to put much stock into marks. And yet, when she meets Robin, something clicks for her: Robin! Just like on her shoulder, a robin.

She thinks that so long that seeing Tim kissing a girl who's definitely not Steph, well. Maybe Tim is her robin, maybe he isn't. She decides she doesn't care anymore.

Then, after she herself becomes Robin for a hot minute, she thinks: it probably isn't Tim.

Then, as Black Mask pulls a gun on her - and there's no new Robins in sight to choose from - she thinks it probably is.

Only, when the shot rings out, it's not her who's dead on the floor.

"I got you," a male voice is saying behind her. "You're safe, now."

She doesn't think so, doesn't feel so, but she lost too much blood already, and it's not like she can fight him off when he hoists her up.

"I am bringing you to Leslie's clinic. You know Leslie, right? Do you want to call someone on the way, so they could keep you company on the way?"

Once upon a time, she would have said yes. Now, with her decidingly not dead while Black Mask is, she rethinks her assessment again.

It's not Tim. Thank god.

***

When Jason came to awareness, things were confusing. Much more so when he got news from Gotham. Joker, alive. Robin, also alive and not Jason.

If that's Jason's soulmate, he decides he would rather crawl back into the ground. The insult of it.

Still. He skips out on the whole Hush plot, just so he wouldn't need to be in Gotham. He doesn't want to know if that's the guy. The new Robin.

Because maybe if he were, then Bruce replacing him was just fate. If he weren't, then Jason was replaced because he wasn't good enough.

Then replacement gets replaced, and Jason is not going to lie. He feels schadenfreude. He thinks he's allowed. It's a girl this time, and she's good for her age and level of training. She knows how to handle herself on the streets and how to blend in if necessary. She's kind to the ones who deserved and mean to ones that don't. The risks she pulls sometimes - like with the Tiger Butterfly or whoever the fuck - are too much even for Jason her age. He could have run into the stray of bullets, but he wouldn't necessarily jump off the roof without a grapple. Bullets are familiar and easy; he survived a bullet to his stomach once, even if Leslie apparently was unconvinced about the outcome, soulmark or not.

But gravity? He pretty sure gravity beats fate, on the scale of cosmic laws.

Still, she pulls it off, and Jason, who's reading a report, finds himself grinning.

"Still want to teach your father a lesson about sidekicks?" Talia smiles knowingly.

"Only if he throws another one to his own devices again," Jason grumbles. "Did I ever tell you how he switched from Dick to me? Dick hated my guts for that, and now I kind of get how he felt. Though I think his ire, and mine, would have done better if saved for the boss man himself."

"No, you didn't, and I am surely don't care. I am glad you came to terms with it."

"I didn't. Would you? If Ra's produced another child out of nowhere and, I don't know, proclaimed them his new heir and right hand. But..."

"My father might very well do it, one of these days. He still didn't quite forgive me for bringing you to... Health. This is why I am not planning on staying with him for long."

"Well, what are you waiting for?"

"You. As soon as you are back in Gotham, you will be unreachable for my father and the League."

"If you put it like that..."

Jason guesses he's got a homecoming.

Talia keeps her word. She and her son leave for Metropolis as soon as Jason on the ship to Gotham.

Jason never met the kid, Damian, but he heard stories and Talia always carried around a picture. Once, Jason asked if she ever going to tell Bruce. She touched a mark on her side. It's a cat, of all things.

"No," she shook her head. "He would try to make this work, and I don't think any of us is interested anymore. But when Damian wants, he will meet him."

That was as good a strategy as any.

***

The ship Jason was on, was smuggling the guns. They had been going to New Jersey, not Gotham specifically, but close enough that catching a ride made sense. He considered it his graduation exam. Will security clock that they have a stove-away?

They didn't. But then again, never they noticed that they were boarded by Kobra operatives before the latter slit their throats, or maybe not even then. On account of death.

Jason thinks long and hard, for about two minutes it takes him to place the charges in the ship's engine room, while pirates of modern age are preparing to transfer the goods.

Kobra Cult isn't usually so brazen. They're terrorists, and going against Five Families when they can just buy the guns? Not their style.

Unless there's a problem with the funding chain (but that's what Gotham banks are for - robbery). Or prices on the guns and ammo are going to skyrocket.

Or Kobra is going to war with Italian mafia, but that's unlikely.

Anyway. Jason blows up the ship and everyone on board. Gets away on a small boat. Blows up Kobra s decoy marine vehicle that's still broadcasting the distress signal. Gets to the shore.

Gets boots deep in a shoot-out between Odessa and Latinx United, has to use his wound sealant on a five-year old kid, and

For the first time since swimming in the Infinity Pool, he sees red.

And he knows what you're thinking. Lately, his style was... Aggressive and definite. But where's difference between going one against a bunch of goons plus Joker, without a solid plan and on a very strict timetable (he didn't want Talia in the League longer than necessary, and since it kinda depended on him, he made it a point to wrap up fast). You just can't do anything more than go in guns blazing and let your training carry you through it.

Besides, any if stray bullets hit someone, it would be still a target worth taken out.

It's not the case with the Gotham gang war. As much as he wants everyone responsible off the streets, forever, adding to that chaos is just going to make things worse.

So. He doesn't know what to do - and so he's doing recon.

It's a war as Jason never seen before. Something made them not only to turn on each other, but go after families, wives, kids, non-combatants. And it's just counter to everything Jason knows.

You don't go after families unless you don't have that leverage on you. Whoever convinced gangs to step it up, that's Jason's target. Take them out, replace them, tell everyone to stand out.

That's his plan.

So, unlike Batman and the others, he has to ignore the screams and the fires all around him. It's going to be better in the long run, he says to himself, trying to sound convincing. Unlike with Eugene ("you kill people, you put a mad dog down"), it doesn't quite work.

But he has no choice. It has to be stopped sooner.

So he focuses on the case at hand. He gets the information he needs from torturing an Odesa woman who ordered a shooting at schools and kindergartens. It's miles easier than making himself not go there and kill everyone in sight who would raise a firearm against a child.

He orders Svitlana to call off her dogs, which she does. She says it won't help, because Scarface is in it, too, and Italians will retaliate for sure.

"Should have thought earlier about it," he says. "But no matter. You work for me now, or the chip I inserted in your stomach will blow up. If you try to get it out, it will blow up. If any information you provided me is faulty, it will blow up. If I hear that your people are still killing children, well."

"It will blow up, I get it," she shows him her teeth.

Jason, being a gentleman, doesn't knock them out. He twists the knife in her hand.

"Now, about that Black Mask fellow... Where you said I can find him, again?"

He finds the Black Mask's lair. It takes some doing, even with the information supplied by his new minion.

But the rest is easy. No people security. Not even Black Mask anywhere. Except...

Yes, the basement. Sounds like a fight.

He finds Black Mask on the floor and a teenage girl screaming at him, gun going up and down in her hand. Even if she has it in her to pull the trigger, the shot will probably go wild, won't hit vitals.

Still, he's ready to give her a chance, after he listens in and realizes it's the fourth Robin, the one and only Spoiler.

But then the dynamics change and Jason has his gun out and a bullet between Mask's eyebrows in no time at all.

He catches the falling girl. He takes her to Leslie. On the way, he prays that she won't recognize him - he still needs to wrap this up, and going against Batman and gathering intel on who to kill, so it would make the maximum impact with minimal effort, it's just easier if nobody knows he's him.

But he hopes she recognizes the girl and take care of her as she would have of him. Whether the girl makes it, he can't place a bet, but he kinda wants to think that even if she doesn't, she would have someone with her.

Jason can't get in by the window, not with the body in his hands, so he strolls right through the main entrance.

The girl is taken from him to the surgery immediately. Leslie pauses, catching his hand.

"Did you do it?"

"Yes, if by it you mean if I saved her. Though let me tell you, she did the most if it herself. I just gave her a hand somewhat. And a ride here."

She nods at him and leaves for the operation room.

Jason leaves to kill some lieutenants and present their heads to the gangs who are still fighting.

Resistance is futile.

They get it.

There's a lot of bad blood between Jason's newest new minions. But he decides to give everyone a fair shot at revenge without it spilling on the streets. He calls it Arena. You can duel with anyone without risking it hurting business, he explains to the masses. Not everyone is in line with the plan, but most of them don't want anymore funerals either.

Batman doesn't agree with the plan, so Arena migrates through Gotham before he can find it again. Jason would rather kill everyone at once, but this, one at a time, works for him too.

Gotham streets quiet down eventually.

Then Nightwing finds him. Wants to make a deal. Asks for Tarantula, who recently became a nominal member of his organization, she and her kids.

"You do realize I'm not actually a boss of her," Jason-as-Red Hood says. "And that the kids aren't even a real gang anymore. They just found safety in numbers, and clout in the "under Red Hood" name. But Tarantula is using me, she doesn't listen to me."

"You could make her listen, though. I need her in jail, for what she did in Bludhaven."

"What's that? Helped you to take care of a city-wide problem? You do realize who you're talking to? There's no sanctity of life for me."

"It's more than that. She... I need her in prison. Please."

"Want to tell me why?"

"No. It won't convince you. What do you want for making it happen?"

Jason makes a show of rubbing helmet's chin.

"Someone needs to take over her kids. Know anyone?"

"I have connections," Nightwing says. "I don't know if you heard about Jason Todd memorial fund..."

"Oh?" Jason leaves it at that, but what the fuck?

"Yes, well, they're mostly sponsoring kids whose home life makes it difficult to go to school. But. It can be expanded. I guarantee it will. That way, they will get resources, counseling, housing, whatever they need."

"Make it Gotham-wide, not only Las Narrangas, and you sold me on this plan."

He trades with Dick happily. He doesn't really care about Tarantula, and whatever she did to Dick that made him look like that, and go ask for a crime lord's favor - crime lord that is top priority for Batman and GCPD now, with Mask dead and Hood being top dog...

It must have been bad. Really bad.

Nightwing pulls through on his side. Dick Grayson resigns from Bludhaven police force, moves back to Gotham, starts working for Jason Todd's Foundation. It cites the urgent need to invest in safety and education of all Gotham kids, so that all Gotham kids, present and future, get a chance to grow up. So what happened just last month, would never repeat.

It's a good sentiment.

Robin#3 is flying over Gotham rooftops again, though. So, Jason guesses, not all-all Gotham kids deserve safety, in Dick's opinion.

Not his problem.

But he notices that Robin #4 isn't out yet, or even Spoiler. Is her recovery taking so long? He decides to check with Leslie. Maybe he can do something, medical bills-wise, with the money he inherited from Mask. Would be only fair.

***

Leslie, he finds out, closed the shop and left. Was run out of town by Batman, after she failed to keep Spoiler/Robin alive.

With another probable robin candidate off his list, and another Robin dead, Jason doesn't know what to think. He said to Talia he will let it go.

But making the only free clinic in the Crime Alley close up is a whole 'nother issue. He thinks he's allowed to give Batman grief for this one.

But, the grip he has on the other gangs goes only as far as he keeps the business running. Making a conflict with Bats would be detrimental to that.

He seeks out Nightwing to send a message.

"I have some information to trade," he says. "I know you have an in with Wayne, and I have something I need from him, and I can get him something that would make it worth his while."

"What's that?" Nightwing arches his eyebrows at him. "You decided to betray your own organization?"

"After the effort I put into salvaging it? Making sure everyone following the rules?"

"Your rules. No capes, no kids, no civilians. Not everyone agrees with them. I would expect some backstabbing in the near future."

"It's fine as long as something like last month shit storm doesn't hit us again."

"Okay, I will bite. What is it?"

"Uh-huh. Wayne's ears only. It's a family matter, after all. About one of his kids."

"Drake? Grayson? Cain?"

"Wayne's ears only," Jason reminds him and jumps onto another roof.

***

Nightwing brings him a date and address.

It's a public place. Daytime.

"Oh, I wasn't at Mario's in ages," Jason says, full of nostalgia. "Mostly because the price tag is biting. Hope Wayne knows he's buying."

"He can afford it," Nightwing says with amusement.

***

Jason puts on disguise. He doesn't try too hard. Obviously fake mustache, a three piece suit, and purple-tinted glasses.

"How do you do," he says, giving Bruce a hand to shake.

"Glad to finally make the acquaintance," Bruce says without missing a beat.

Jason just bets he does. Seeing how he runs into the ground every night trying to catch up with Red Hood. But Jason isn't ready to talk to anyone except Nightwing, when they're in suits. He has some leverage on Nightwing, the whole exchanging favors thing.

The same he about to get from Bruce Wayne. Which is not the same as from Batman, ask anyone.

"So, I was given to understand you're looking at joining our charity efforts?"

"No, I am looking for you picking up your charity efforts."

"Why not do it yourself? It's not like you're a man without the means."

"I am sure a career like mine looks glamorous, with how it sometimes portrayed in media. But I wouldn't say I am rolling in money. Most of what I get, I have to invest back into my community. Otherwise, you know there's going to be a mutiny. And nobody wants that."

"For sure," Bruce readily agrees as though he's not plotting with the leader of the Hills to replace the Hood.

"So as I'm running low on operative costs, I thought to reach out to you. It's a penny for you, really. And Crime Alley needs a clinic. Not for my guys - my guys can pay, and they do. But the rest if them poor sods who have to live there?"

"Well. One might say they would have had an easier time if there was less crime in Crime Alley."

"There's already less - organized crime. And crimes against children and sex workers. But I can't be everywhere at once, and my people won't be anywhere if there's not a little something for them in there."

Bruce tapped a finger on the table.

"You really think you're helping Gotham, do you."

"I wouldn't be doing what I do if I wasn't convinced it's working. If it stops working, I will move on to something else. But so far, it has positive effects overall."

"I am not so sure. You're still a criminal, and a murderer."

"And a whole lot more you don't know about or won't find proof. Honestly, I don't really get what's a big deal. I don't come after you. I make sure my people don't come after yours. I make sure that things like a family gunned down in an alley is becoming a thing of the past. Don't you think you can sound a bit more appreciative?"

"When you say you don't come after me and mine..."

"Oh, yes, Mr. Wayne. That brings us closer to the topic of our exchange. You make sure the free clinic is open and running again? I will return one of your kids to you."

"You just said you're not going after them."

Bruce visibly tenses, and Jason just knows he's going through a mental roster, who Red Hood might have taken while they're sitting here chatting.

"It's nobody you're missing. But I think you might appreciate having anyway. I mean, that's the impression I got from him."

"Him?" Bruce tenses even more. "I guess we have a friend in common. A friend who's currently in Metropolis."

"Ah, so you know about that," guess Damian started to explore the possibility of knowing his father.

Talia must have contacted Bruce to make sure he's not ambushed by the news and won't react badly.

"I wonder why our common friend didn't talk about you at all."

"Not her secret to keep. And vice versa. I am not here about your youngest, Mr. Wayne. I'm here about your second oldest. Third oldest? I am not totally sure about Miss Cassandra's birthday."

Bruce inhales loudly.

"Jason is dead. You won't use him against me."

"Against you? What are you talking about? I just want you to open the clinic again. He would like that, too, I have it on good authority. And besides. As you found out who our common friend is, does the fact that Jason Todd is alive dumbfound you so much? Not saying that's how he came back, though. You know there's even more things current science can't explain. Magic, aliens."

"Do you have any proof he's alive?"

"I can tell you how you two met. Yes, he told me the story. And before you say, he would never... I think you don't know him like I do. Or don't know what I am willing to do to make people talk."

"I've seen."

"You haven't seen anything, yet, Bruce. Comparatively." Jason turns to the approaching waiter. "I will take my order to go. Thank you."

After all, he can't eat with Bruce. Can't leave his DNA where Batman can get his grabby hands on it.

***

"Okay, so. Why exactly you're blackmailing Bruce Wayne with an outlandish story about his son coming back to life and being kidnapped and tortured by you? He used to pay for Leslie's clinic, he would do it again if asked, like a normal person."

"Hi, Nightwing," Jason doesn't look up from his paperwork.

He knew, on an intellectual level that there's going to be paperwork involved in running a criminal empire and trying to force it to go legit. But he didn't, you know, know.

"I didn't kidnap him, he's staying with me willingly. And I didn't torture him. There's all kind of getting intel out of people methods. Ever heard of pillow talk?"

"Okay, ew. If you know about Bruce Wayne what you implied you know, you might get why I don't want to hear "Jason" and "pillow talk" connected in a sentence."

"Too bad, you're going to get used to it. I am his soulmate."

Which is actually an option Jason considered. He's Robin, after all.

"How's that?"

"Well, I assume you saw his mark. And guess where my alias comes from?"

"Joker? Charles Perroh?"

"Robin Hood. Though I am surprised you know who wrote Little Red Riding Hood, usually people guess it were the Grimm brothers."

"Robin Hood. That's a bit underwhelming."

"I'm stealing from rich and giving to the poor. I don't know what else you expected."

"Is that what you're doing? With the hostile takeovers you guys doing lately?"

"Yeah. Problem?"

"No, you're doing amazing. Continue."

"Thank you for your permission, Mr. Nightwing. Now if you don't mind, I am getting back to it."

"Of course, Mr. Robin." Nightwing is almost out of his window but then he does a double take. "Wait. Mr. Nightwing. Mr. Robin!"

Jason sighs and takes off the false mustache.

"You got me."

"How long have you been alive?"

"Technically, I was only dead for half a year, give or take. Ow."

Nightwing punches him.

"I will allow it, because this is a life-shattering revelation." Jason warns.

"You're Jason's soulmate, huh?"

"Well, you said that I don't have a chance in hell with you - even if I didn't ask, thank you. So unless it's the boring one or cheating death in cards is just something that happens to all Robins, I guess I am stuck all by my lonesome. Maybe it's an alternative universe version of me whom I yet to meet. Probably a Jason who did not die and became Batman, or something."

"Just to be clear - is that how you came back to life? Cheated Death in cards?"

"It's called a metaphor," Jason rolls his eyes. "Look it up."

#cleaning up my drafts

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brokenbunnny · 2 years

Text

STRIKE #5

*OBSIDIAN wakes up, tied to a chair, in what looks to be a bunker of some kind.*

OBSIDIAN: Hm?

What the-?

Oh shit!

*TOMMY turns the chair OBSIDIAN is tied to face him.*

TOMMY: Good morn’n.

OBSIDIAN: Tommy. Why am I here?

TOMMY: Boss wanted ya.

But you did break the code so the three of us got free rein over ya until the boss gets here.

OBSIDIAN: Who’s your new boss?

TOMMY: No offense but I don’t think yer in the right position ter be ask’n any questions.

*TOMMY gestures to JAY and JACK behind OBSIDIAN with a baseball bat and a crowbar, TOMMY pulls out a pocket knife and cuts the side of OBSIDIANs face.*

TOMMY: Now let's make that lovely costume of yers match yer nice red hair.

*Panel shows “off screen” screams as TOMMY, JAY and JACK torture OBSIDIAN.*

OBSIDIAN: Aaaahhhhh!!!

MEANWHILE

*THE ACTOR, CREAMPUFF, BLURRY FACE and SPECTRE group up back at the HQ. THE ACTOR paces the room in anxious thought, BLURRY FACE and SPECTRE sit at the table CREAMPUFF is sitting on.*

CREAMPUFF: I’m sure they’re fine.

They could have just run away to avoid that whole broken code punishment thing.

Or maybe there wasn’t really one anyway.

THE ACTOR: No, there is a code. Both Obsidian and that goon brought it up.

*THE ACTOR puts a hand to their head.*

THE ACTOR: Oh gods, this was a bad idea.

Blurry Face, do you know anything about this code?

BLURRY FACE: Oh yeah! Not good.

THE ACTOR: *Sarcastically* Very helpful.

BLURRY FACE: Eh, sorry.

The code that they were referring to is probably the Vapira code.

SPECTRE: Vapira?

BLURRY FACE: Yes.

Vapira was a member of nobility in the 1400s before falling into a forbidden love with a knight from another kingdom.

CREAMPUFF: Romantic, but not helpful.

BLURRY FACE: Just listen.

Vapira and the knight were both banished from Vapira’s home kingdom and the village people were sent to hunt the two of them like animals on order of the king and queen as a punishment for treason.

THE ACTOR: Well that’s brutal.

BLURRY FACE: The villagers caught the knight and, legend says they burnt them alive outside the kingdom walls so Vapira had view of the sight.

SPECTRE: I think I’ve heard this story before…

I’ve read theories that Vapira went to a witch after the knights execution to bring her true love back to the land of the living.

BLURRY FACE: Those theories are just tall tales, lies to tell at a campfire to scare your friends.

CREAMPUFF: And how does this relate to the code exactly?

*BLURRY FACE looks CREAMPUFF dead in the eyes.*

BLURRY FACE: If someone breaks the Vapira code by either quitting before their contract allows or working with the enemies side…

…Then its considered an act of treason against the cities criminal underground.

They will send out any villains, goons or henchmen to have full rein over what to do the the code breaker.

This can be torture, perminant injury or sometimes even…

…Death.

THE ACTOR: Oh Gods…

We need to get Obsidian out of there now.

BLURRY FACE: Out of where exactly? We still have no clue where they could have gone.

SPECTRE: And, um, I checked all security cameras around The Tipsy Possum…

…Whoever took Obsidian must have avoided the cameras…

CREAMPUFF: So what your saying is we have no lead.

*All of a sudden TELEPORTER comes running through the HQs front door not noticing the heroes inside. TELEPORTER looks like they are trying to hide from someone.*

BLURRY FACE: Woah…

SPECTRE: Um…

Hi there.

*TELEPORTER turns around slowly.*

TELEPORTER: Sorry I didn’t know anyone was in here…

Ah! Heroes! Oh, maybe you can help me!

CREAMPUFF: *Under her breath* Why’d it have to be him…?

*THE ACTOR gives CREAMPUFF a nudge to stop talking.*

THE ACTOR: What is it you need help with?

TELEPORTER: I saw something I shouldn’t have and now a bunch of bad guys are trying to kidnap me!

THE ACTOR: Ok, ok. I’m going to need you to calm down, alright.

What was it that you saw?

TELEPORTER: I think I witnessed a kidnapping.

*The team of heroes a give each other a look.*

THE ACTOR: Can you tell me what the person being kidnapped looked like?

TELEPORTER: Yes! It was Obsidian, the villain. I recognized them from their hair it’s kind of hard to miss.

*BLURRY FACE looks at CREAMPUFF.*

BLURRY FACE: There’s our lead.

CREAMPUFF: Perfect timing.

THE ACTOR: I’m going to need you to tell me everything you know.

LATER:

*OBSIDIAN is left bruised and bloody, very limb, as a knock is heard on the door of the observatory. TOMMY, JAY and JACK answer the door and a figure in a black hooded cloak walks in, the three goons bow. The HOODED FIGURE points to OBSIDIAN and speaks in monotone.*

HOODED FIGURE: Is that them?

TOMMY: Yes, it-it-it-it is er uh sir.

*The HOODED FIGURE walks past the goons and towards OBSIDIAN.*

JACK: Will the be here, or is it just you?

*The HOODED FIGURE turns back to JACK.*

JACK: Sir, sir?

HOODED FIGURE: No.

The Greater Being will not be joining us this evening. I have been sent alone to retrieve the…

*The HOODED FIGURE pauses and stares at OBSIDIAN silently for a long moment.*

TOMMY: Uh, sir?

Sir? You alright?

*The HOODED FIGURE snaps out of his daze.*

HOODED FIGURE: The captive.

To retrieve the captive.

TOMMY: Er, yes, uh ok, sir.

I’ll send me boys, Jay and Jack to get the-the ropes…

…You you want us to er, knock em out too, sir?

HOODED FIGURE: No.

I want them to walk themselves to the van.

Untie them.

*All, including OBSIDIAN, look to the HOODED FIGURE in surprise and confusion.*

HOODED FIGURE: That was an order.

TOMMY: Uh, er, right, sir.

*TOMMY gestures to JAY and JACK to untie OBSIDIAN and they do. Once untied, OBSIDIAN throws a weak punch at the HOODED FIGURE who catches their fist and kicks them in the gut.*

OBSIDIAN: Ga- er…

HOODED FIGURE: Start walking.

MEANWHILE

*The team follow TELEPORTER through the back alleys of the old part of town.*

TELEPORTER: I saw them go in there.

*TELEPORTER points to the old observatory.*

THE ACTOR: The observatory…

CREAMPUFF: You look like you know this place.

THE ACTOR: I do, this was Obsidian’s old hideout.

BLURRY FACE: Hey guys, I think its no or never.

*BLURRY FACE points to the van driving away from the observatory.*

THE ACTOR: Let’s move.

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catxtopia · 2 years

Text

Ok look I gotta get this off my chest so I can sleep at night. ViagoAnton and Blackstede AU. It’s been living rent free in my head for weeks so here we go-

Takes place well after the inevitable S2. The Revenge have been raiding merchant ships pretty regularly now, they got it down to a science so there are no casualties anymore. Save for the occasional accidental stabbing… They’ve just finished loading the cargo under deck, Stede’s busy at work checking the merchants log to make sure everything is accounted for. Once everything's stored away all that’s left is an abnormally large crate in the middle of the room.

He’s flipping through the logs, confused, until he comes across a tiny note in the back that. It says that this odd box had been excessively paid for from an anonymous seller to be sent to some place called Wellington. And underlined beneath that it reads “Do Not Open In Sunlight”

Stede’s confused, the crews intrigued, and Ed’s already got a crowbar in the lid of the box before Frenchie could even begin rattling nervously that they should just leave it alone.

And then the lids off. And inside is a coffin.

They all take a step back. Ed tosses the crow bar and whines that it’s just a dead bloke. Everything seems taken care of, they’ll toss it overboard later after a celebratory supper. They're heading towards the door when the lid of the coffin comes creaking open and a man starts levitating from the box.

Frenchie faints.

The mysterious floating man steps out onto the deck and waves innocently, giving a gentle greeting. He asks if this is Wellington, the crews too stunned to speak. After a long staring match the man suddenly gasps and hurries towards Stede, proclaiming “Dearest your hair has grown so much!” As if he knows Stede.

Which Stede is fairly certain he does not.

Ed most certainly has normal feelings about this and totally doesn't immediately pull his gun on the guy who just levitated out of a freaking coffin and called his boyfriend dearest.

And that’s how they meet Viago!

Cue The Revenge arranging to bring Viago the rest of the way to Wellington to meet up with his estranged lover Anton. Frenchie is having none of it. Ed’s almost just as disturbed, especially because everyone keeps comparing the two's similar appearances. They absolutely do NOT look alike at all, thankyouverymuch.

And Stede is having the most wonderful time of his life talking pleasantries with this fancy little vampire man. They’re best friends. Ed finds them drinking tea one night together and gossiping. Only rather Stede’s drinking tea and Viago is drinking what can only be blood from a tea cup. The bandage wrapped around Stede’s wrist sends Ed into an absolute tizzy.

Of course towards the end of their journey I am gonna need Ed and Viago to have some soft conversation about being portrayed as monsters and how there is more to them then their names/appearances. Ed guesses Viago’s not so bad- but he’s still happy to kick him off The Revenge once they reach Wellington.

And of course waiting at the dock is a disturbingly similar looking blonde man on shore waiting for Viago. Everyone’s staring as they walk off together, utterly confused by the two doppelgangers. The only reasonable answer? Witchcraft.

The end

Thank you and goodnight

#*jazz hands*#this is all I can think abooout #someone please write the pairings together #I have dumb writer block brain #I am cursed to live with ideas in my head #and never write them #lmao #also will happily take anton/viago content #cause goddamn #the potential #blackstede #blackbonnet #gentlebeard #anton/viago #viagoanton #viago x anton #wtf is their ship name #wwdits 2014 #long post

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pat-hockstetters-fridge · 2 years

Note

Hi may I request a poly lost boys x Mikaelson reader or slasher reader (whichever one u like most) thanks❤️

The Lost Boys x Slasher!Reader

You were following the dude for a while. He’d groped a girl’s ass about two hours ago, and when she’d yelled at him, he’d shoved her into her friends.

Up until now, he’d been with a group, but it was almost two in the morning by this point. The boardwalk was closed, and he and his friends were saying goodbye in the parking lot. You sat perched, perfectly poised, on top of a lamppost watching the men.

(“How the fuck did she even get up there?” Paul whispered. “Shh!” Marko elbowed him in the ribs.)

The Lost Boys had been following you all night too. Ever since they’d seen your reaction to what that asshole had done. The stare you’d given the piece of shit was hot, and they were intrigued. Especially when you began stalking the dick through the boardwalk crowds.

You stopped at your car at one point to retrieve a backpack with a crowbar subtly sticking out the top. No one questioned you when you went back on the boardwalk with it.

You looked like a predator stalking their prey. They wanted to know what you were up to. Who you were.

Which brought all of you here, to this dimly lit parking lot, where they hovered in the sky, watching you perch on that lamppost, watching the man leave his only safety net.

His friends had all gotten into their cars at this point and were beginning to drive away, but he was struggling to find his keys.

You grinned with malice, producing the guy’s keys from your pocket and dropping them.

He jumped, letting out a yelp of alarm as his keys seemed to fall from the sky.

He looked around wildly, and you slid yourself down the lamppost when his back was turned. You pull the crowbar from your backpack like a Samurai unsheathing their sword, and before the guy can even comprehend there’s someone standing behind him, you’ve brought the heavy metal down on his head.

There’s a sickening crack and the guy drops.

You hum to yourself, a tune none of The Lost Boys are familiar with, and drop your backpack to begin rummaging through it. You pull out zip ties and make quick work of bounding his ankles and wrists.

Then you begin to drag him through the parking lot.

Your vampire spectators follow, utterly intrigued.

You grunt in irritation, (this asshole is heavy), but you’ve finally reached your car. You open the trunk and after about five minutes of struggling—

(“Should we help her?” “Shut up, Marko.”),

—you finally get the guy in your truck.

You jump to close the door, and with your hands on your hips you nod to yourself before gathering your keys and sliding into the driver’s seat.

You peel out like your life depends on it, hitting fifty mph in under a minute. You hit the beach, your wheels furiously kicking up sand, and David is certainly glad they’re following you because you’re heading to Hudson’s Bluff.

You jump out of the car and open the trunk. The guy is awake, and struggling, but where’s he gonna go? His feet are bound.

You laugh at him before dragging him out by the hair. He hits the ground with a thud, cursing you the whole way.

But that’s fine. You left his mouth uncovered for a reason.

You begin dragging him through the sand to the edge of the bluff, a coil of rope slid over your shoulder. When you get there, you wrap the rope around his upper body and legs to restrict basically all movement, and leave him lying dangerously close to the cliff’s edge as you go back to your car.

You grab the gallons of gasoline you keep in the back, a set of matches already tucked safely in your pocket.

The man is screaming at you like his life isn’t in your hands.

He’s saying shit that’s even making Dwayne angry, but you don’t give him the time of day. He shuts up as soon as you screw the cap off the gasoline.

“What the fuck are you doing with that you crazy bitch!?”

You don’t answer, just begin pouring it on him.

He shrieks, but you empty one gallon and just open another.

Halfway through the second, you stop covering him and begin a trail of gasoline from him to you, standing ten feet away.

When you produce the matches from your pocket, he begins to beg.

You stand back at the end of the gasoline trail. You light a match.

You’re not cliché. You offer no prolonged villain speech, no time for the man to figure a way out or even just come to terms with his impending death. The match is lit and you twirl it in your fingers.

You smile.

And you let the match fall into the gasoline.

“Bye bye,” you whisper as the man catches fire. His screams are exactly why you left his mouth uncovered. There will never be a more satisfying sound. You sit cross-legged in front of the fire, and use your matches to light the joint that had originally been your only plan for the night.

You smoke as you wait for the fire to die out.

When it finally does, you stomp out any remaining tiny flames, kicking sand over the ashes. The guy’s corpse is hot to the touch and you grimace, disgustedly kicking his body towards the cliff.

He falls into the raging sea below.

You stared at the waves impassively as they swallowed the corpse.

Then there was the sound of four sets of feet hitting the ground behind you.

You sighed. You were only here on vacation, but you’d heard all about the local legends before coming here. The local monsters. Vampires.

A slow clap, and you turn to face your audience.

“You didn’t see that,” you say, boredom lacing your tone.

Your audience consists of four, and shit, they’re attractive.

Vampires, you remind yourself.

The leader takes a drag of his cigarette. “We won’t tell,” he snickers.

Despite his calm demeanor and your more than illegal and arguably immoral life, you felt, for the first time in a long time, nervous.

Yeah you were a serial killer, but these guys weren’t even human. They could crush you like an ant and you wouldn’t stand a fighting chance. You knew they could hear your heart rate speed up by the smirks on their faces.

“Nervous?” The one in the patched jacket purrs.

“Yeah.” Your voice is monotone. You’re not fucking around. You’re not particularly in the mood to die tonight.

“Why?” The blond with a rockstar’s hairstyle laughs jovially. “You just killed a guy! Shouldn’t we be nervous?”

You frown. “Four against one, man.”

The leader is staring at you with a look that demands your attention. When your eyes meet, you maintain eye contact as he seems to be figuring something out.

“She knows,” he finally announces.

Tall Dark and Handsome gives him a questioning look. The leader just nods without even looking at his friend.

“She knows.”

The blond rocker isn’t laughing anymore.

This is it, you think, This is the day I die.

“She knows… but she won’t tell. Will she?” The leader asks. You shake your head. “Why would I tell? Who would I tell?”

“Exactly,” he says, and it sounds like a threat.

“So what are we doing here David?” The one with the jacket asks impatiently.

David seemed to think for a moment. “Dwayne,” he turns to the tall brunet. “How much wine do we have left?”

“Enough.” Dwayne’s eyes shift to you.

“Yeah!” The blond rocker whoops, celebrating something unknown to you.

“So what’s your name, killer?” the one with the jacket asks, biting the thumb of his glove.

“Y/N.”

“Marko.” He wiggles his fingers at you, thumb still caught between his teeth. “Paul!” The rocker introduces. “Dwayne.” “David.” But you already knew those two.

“Wanna come hang out?”

“And do what?” You ask suspiciously.

“Does it matter?” David chuckles. “This is your best option.”

“We live right underneath your feet, baby!” Paul cooes. “Come chill.”

That’s how you find yourself in a vampire coven’s lair. Karma must be coming for you or something.

Or… not. All things considered, you got a great deal that day. Keep doing what you’re doing, with four new boyfriends, and immortality.

You must have been doing something right to earn this.

#the lost boys #marko tlb #david tlb #paul tlb #dwayne tlb #marko the lost boys #david the lost boys #paul the lost boys #dwayne the lost boys #headcanons #girlboss #slashers #slasher reader #david x reader #dwayne x reader #marko x reader #paul x reader #depictions of violence #murder lol

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poedamneron01 · 3 years

Text

GEORGE HARKNESS X F!READER

Summary: reader and Digger meeting for the first time while on the first mission of Task Force X (set during 2016 Suicide Squad), reader has catwoman/blackwidow like abilities.

TW: swearing

Captain Boomerang AU/Masterlist.

“Welcome to Task Force X.” Rick Flag explained too the convicts of Belle Reve prison that were stood in front of him “You all work for me now, you piss me off or vex me I blow your heads off.” Flag stated as Harley raised her arm to talk. “Flag, you have one more addition too your team, she is pulling up now.” Waller spoke over the comms in his ear as a pickup truck pulled up, with a singular crate strapped to it.

“Copy.” He replied as the crate was lifted up and placed on the ground, where guards surrounded the box and crowbarred it open. “This is Y/N L/N, our final member.” Rick read off his small iPad as the new member didn’t move.

“Oh yeah, nice mate, is she invisible or somethin?” George asked with his arms crossed over his chest, earning a cackle from Harley, before a soldier stomped over, kicking the crate and it slammed sideways onto the concrete and you rolled out and landed on your feet with ease.

You looked up through your curtains of hair covering your face “L/N, welcome to Task Force X.” Flag stated and you stood up, pushing your hair behind your shoulders “Well gee, thanks for havin’ me colonel.” You smirked before walking over and getting in line beside your new teammates.

“Your shit is over there, get changed and grab anything you will need for a fight, we are wheels up in ten.” He finished before walking away and allowing the group to grab their things.

“G’Day.” A husky voice spoke from beside you, causing you to look up slightly and meet the blue eyes of a man wearing a white singlet “Hey.” You responded as the pair of you walked over towards your crates, which happened to be beside one another.

“What are you in for love?” You recognised his Australian accent and your stomach fluttered, you always had a thing for guys with an accent. “Lets just say some rats had a hand in my doing.” You responded while pulling open your crate to reveal your belongings.

You watched as he too began pulling out his stuff, slipping on a blue jacket that read ‘CAPTAIN’.

“How about you, Captain?” You asked sending him a smile and he grinned back “Lets just say some red streak who disagrees with a poor man playing Mahjong with his nanna, peacefully.” You laughed and squatted down, pulling out a black all in one stealth suit with a grumble.

“I’m George by the way.” He added after a few seconds, extending his hand out towards you “Y/N.” You responded and slid your hand into his, shaking it a few times before reluctantly pulling away. You pulled out a pair of black boots that matched your suit before standing up and looking around.

“Is there anywhere I can go to get changed?” You yelled out and received no response, causing you to groan in annoyance “Come ‘ere, I promise I won’t steal a peep.” George mumbled so low that only himself and you could here.

You sent him a pointed look “How are we possible going to do this?” You asked him confused, as where you all stood was so open “I’ll use my coat?” He replied and cocked his eyebrow “Well I have on panties and a bra, I’m sure it’s nothing you haven’t seen before.” You licked your lips and walked towards him.

George wouldn’t lie, you were pretty stunning if he had to admit, nothing like he had seen before. The fact that you were like him, had him feeling more and more infatuated with you. He pulled his heavy, long coat off and allowed you to walk forward, and once you were close enough he held the coat out and around you.

“You know, usually I don’t let a guy see me like this till the first date.” You remarked in a teasing tone and George grinned “Only the first date?” He asked as he tried his damndest to look anywhere but you.

“People don’t use me George, I use them.” You told him as you slipped your prison clothes off and replaced them with the skin tight, black stealth suit. As you pulled it over your shoulders you looked up at George “Can you zip me up?” You asked him with a kind smile.

He looked down and your eyes met his and he stuttered for a few seconds before nodding “Uh, yeah.” You silently laughed at his response as he pulled his jacket back around him, before you felt his rough fingers brush the skin on your lower back, before he pulled the zipper up.

“There you go love.” George let his hands fall by his side as you spun around on your toes “Thank you.” You spoke genuinely as you leaned down and slipped on your socks and boots, tying them up with a huff. “How about we get to know each other? Eh? Could be our last day on this shitty Earth, lets make it a decent one with good company?” George was surprised by his words but now he had to roll with the punches.

You stood back up after attaching holsters to your legs and slipping in small handguns “Is this a date?” You asked with a playful smile and George rolled his eyes “Darlin’, I think it is safe to say we speak the same language, and you are a very pretty woman.” He tried to reason and you chuckled as you began arming yourself with knives and guns and ammo.

“Okay.” You agreed finally and you weren’t so sure he heard your answer “I mean, I’m not afraid to say this might be a fucked up first date, but if you don’t want to I’m cool with that, I was taught to respect women.” He rambled on and you stepped closer to him.

“George,” you interrupted and he looked down at you with his hands propped up onto his lips “I want to get to know you.” He was taken by surprise as Flag walked back over “Time to go dirtbags.” He called walking towards the cargo helicopters.

“Save me a seat will you?” You asked him sweetly, cocking your head to the side and blinking innocently and he nodded “Yeah, sure darlin’.” He turned and walked off, allowing you to admire his tall and well built frame.

Maybe if you guys could get away after this mission, without dying that is, you could work something out, but that was for another time.

#digger harkness #digger harkness x reader #captain boomerang x reader #captain boomerang #george harkness #jai courtney #the suicide squad imagines #dceu fandom #dceu fanfiction

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themandylion · 3 years

Note

97 & 41 jaytim

Oh wow, this ended up long. /o\

97 (Time Travel) + 41 (First Kiss) + JayTim

He's boosting tires in the Bowery when the thugs find him. Crowd him up against a wall and threaten him with bodily harm for horning in on their territory, even though this part of the city is a free-for-all, with no one reigning supreme. There's three of them to his one, all of them full-grown men with bulging muscles and nasty tempers and Jason knows he's in his final moments, that there's no way he's escaping this. Still, that doesn't mean he's going to go down without a fight. He squares his shoulders, plants his feet, raises the tire iron in his hand, and—

Between one blink and the next, the back-most thug is on the ground, groaning and clutching his crotch. There's a blur of red, and then the next one's down on his knees, the crowbar he was gripping half a block away and the hand that was holding it pinned to the wall by a slim, sharp-edged disk.

Silver flashes through the night, and the final guy collapses in a heap, just sprawled out on the pavement like he's not even human anymore, just a pile of discard clothes over something lumpy and unmoving. Someone lands on his back, light and nimble and impossibly tall. "You okay there, kid?" the new person asks, crouching down so he's at Jason's level and smiling.

"…Batman?" He's only ever seen the Bat from a distance before, but he's heard about the cape and cowl, and this guy has both.

The guy shakes his head. "Nope, not him. I'm his partner, though."

"Robin wears green," Jason feels compelled to point out, because he's definitely seen Robin before, though always on the TV, when the Teen Titans are fighting really scary bad guys elsewhere in the world.

This time, a shadow seems to pass over the man's face, sad and unhappy. "I'm a different kind of Robin. Red Robin. I'm pretty new, it's not surprising you haven't heard of me." He leans back on his heels and glances around at the thugs, frowning. "I've got to tie these guys up and leave them somewhere the GCPD will find them. Do you think you can get home on your own?"

Jason gulps, staring up at him, at the way all that tight leather and spandex hugs his body. Gee whiz. "Yeah, I. I can take care of myself. Thanks!" He surges forward, practically smacking his mouth against Red Robin's cheek, before running off into the night. Maybe not headed home, but to as close as anything gets, these days.

---

Two weeks later, Batman catches him boosting tires on Crime Alley. A week later, he's going home with the man. Jason asks about Red Robin and gets a confused, clueless look, which is strange. With everything else happening, he forgets about the man in the black cowl with the silver staff, but he still finds himself drawn to that one particular shade of red.

---

He forgets until the memory is jarred out of the deepest depths years later on the other side of the multiverse, when he's bound to a chair and staring down the barrel of gun. A gun held by another Batman, a different Bruce. One who did all the things he thought he wanted his Bruce to do, only to end up a broken man as a result. Jason tries to explain himself and his presence, but it's hard to when he keeps seeing that suit in the case over this Batman's shoulder.

They reach an understanding, a kind of peace. Both of them, finally, for the first time in ages. This other Bruce offers him the suit, and Jason doesn't think twice before putting it on. He's traveled across the multiverse, seen places where dead people live again, where evil people are good and vice versa. It's not too far a stretch to believe that somehow, he's going become his own childhood hero.

When he finishes pulling on the last piece, Bruce looks on him with pride and announces, "Red Robin lives!"

"Red…?" Jason murmurs, more than a little startled. It's been so long, he'd nearly forgotten the name, but it fits, it makes sense. Finally, he's back on the right path, back to being someone the boy he once was could be proud of. Will be proud of, when their paths cross again, which he's sure they will.

---

The other Batman dies.

---

They get back, finally done traveling across the multiverse, fleeing across Apokolips, running from plagues and maybes and might-have-beens. Donna and Rayner return to wherever they call home, and Jason... He thought he finally found himself when he put on the cowl and became Red Robin, but with everything that happened after that moment, all the contrition he gained has been too long stewing in a half-broken heart. He isn't sure who rescued him when he was a kid, but it wasn't him, and it wasn't the long-dead Jason of another world. Maybe it was no one at all, and he made it all up and convinced himself it was real.

He runs back to Gotham, strips off the cape and cowl, the bandoliers and leather. Throws it all in the trash and goes to knock some heads and blow off some steam, anything to escape from what the rest of the Justice League brought with them—a sob story and a broken, days-old body.

---

The suit disappears from the can where he threw it, and he thinks good riddance to bad rubbish, but the person who's wearing it now doesn't understand the significance, the legacy. Doesn't know what it symbolizes, a last chance at redemption, a final loss of innocence.

The new kid distracts him, muddies the water and still Jason doesn't see it, doesn't realize what's happening. Even when the kid takes the cowl, adds it to his green-free suit, he doesn't see it.

Jason's too busy fighting, too busy screaming, raging, being angry at himself and the world to realize how things are swirling tighter and tighter, closing in, twining together, weaving themselves in an intricate, impossible mesh that's new and old and always existing all at the same time. The three of them—him and Dick and the new kid—push and shove and fight and scream and grieve in their own ways, trying to figure out who they're going to be now, what the world is without Bruce.

He ignores overtures of friendship, leaves the kid broken and bleeding out and thinks nothing of it, still too busy hurting and too busy denying he hurts.

Thinks nothing of Robin back on the streets in red and green and black and yellow, a different boy, an actual child.

---

Bruce comes back, but he's just as stubborn as always, and Jason burned the last of his bridges while the old man was playing possum. There's nothing left for him to do but lurk in the shadows and grit his teeth and watch Drake bounce around the city in a costume that isn't his, telling himself he doesn't care, that it doesn't rub him the wrong way.

Doesn't actually realize what's happening until one day he's watching as Drake races across the city, ready to step in and stop him if he dares to cross into Red Hood's territory when suddenly—

There's no one. The roof's empty, not a soul in sight.

He swings over, investigates. There's a strange acrid smell in the air along with the faintest traces of sweat and exhaustion, but there's no clue to where he's gone, no hint. Minutes pass and the sky is getting darker as evening turns into night. Just when he's given up, Drake reappears, but still, unmoving. One hand grasping his staff while the other touches his cheek and he stares into nothing, dazed and unfocused.

His attention snaps up, and Jason is too startled to move, still standing there in the middle of the roof, the two of them locked in place.

"Holy fuck." He can't. This isn't—

He's tried to kill Drake multiple times over the years. They've barely had a conversation that hasn't ended with Jason drawing a knife or a gun, and more often than not he comes out on top. Leaves the guy knowing that he's alive at Jason's mercy.

But now he's standing there, finally grown into the Red Robin suit and name, filling it in all the right places, all the right ways, grasping a staff that Jason somehow failed to recognize until this exact moment.

"I never—" He never thought to make the connection, always assumed it had to be someone else, some one huge. Big enough to match the larger-than-life figure that dominated a half-forgotten memory.

"Huh." Red Robin collapses his staff, clips it his belt. "Random time blip? I didn't even realize."

Which would explain it. Of course he didn't realize—no way would he have helped that other, younger Jason if he'd known who it was. Why save a boy who's going to grow up to become a monster bent on destroying him over and over again. "Sorry," Jason says, startled, confused, unable to wrap his head around it all as he stumbles backwards, tries to do what he always does when he's confronted with too much, too fast—run.

Red Robin—Drake—tilts his head to the side and then does something completely unexpected. He shoves back the cowl and studies Jason with cool, clear eyes. "I have a feeling this has been a weird night for both of us. You could stick around. We could figure this out together."

So help him, Jason hesitates. "Time travel is pretty weird."

"I was thinking more being kissed by my childhood crush. But yeah, that too."

"Your… what?"

"Come on," he says, holding out a hand. "I think it's time we finally talked. Maybe without the death threats this time?"

Gulping, Jason takes that hand in his.

It's not much, but. It's a start.

(The Fanfic Trope MASH-UP is still open for asks!)

#JayTim #time travel #Red Robin #ask meme #anonymous #themandylion writes #my fic #weirdly canon compliant in its own special way 🤔#trope mash up

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amaya-james · 3 years

Text

First Meeting

I just realized that I post funny incorrect quotes but post angsty fics, I hope this makes up for all those hearts that I crushed.

Jason and Marinette are going on their first date, its actually funny how they met. You know how we all have that one friend who has no idea how to whisper. Well, that’s Jason. Marinette was walking into a café in Gotham. She immediately spotted (pun intended) eight people sitting at a table. She ignored them in favor of her need for coffee. When she walked up to the cashier she was to tired to notice the chattering, from the four people that she spotted earlier, had stopped.

“Welcome to The Steaming Bean café, what can I get you?” A woman that looked bored asked but still kept a small smile on her face.

“Um can I get a large expresso with no milk and 12 sugars with extremely strong death wish coffee grounds?” Marinette asked casually already taking out her money, not noticing the woman’s small smile that was on her face moments ago was no longer their, only a look of horror and her mumbling ‘There’s two of them’ over and over again.

“Sure, it will be out in two minutes” The woman stuttered.

“Thanks” She answered and with a small, tired smile she turned around looking for a table that was empty.

Marinette spotted an empty table behind the people that she spotted earlier.

Two minutes of waiting for her coffee, she finally got it and was making her way over to the empty table that she saw earlier.

When Marinette was walking pass them, she heard this guy with a white streak lean over and ‘whisper’ to someone that had red hair, “Is she a crowbar? Because she just swung into my life.”

Needless to say Marinette was confused, flattered and quite frankly scared.

When Marinette walked by and sat down, she looked around to make sure that nobody is looking and took out her Red bull, Tequila, hot sauce and a spoon that she bought earlier. Don’t blame her okay, she was busy last night doing a commission for the Wayne’s. She needed this. She poured The Red bull, Tequila and 3 drops of hot sauce into her coffee. Then she took her spoon and mixed everything together.

She failed to notice the shocked looks of the people that sat in front of her.

Marinette took out her laptop from her bag and started sending emails to those who has commissioned her. She again had failed to notice two people slip into a seat across from her. After she finished sending an email she looked up and noticed two people in the seat across from her.

“Hey, I’m Jason and this is Roy” He introduced himself and his friend.

“I’m Marinette” She introduced herself.

They sat there in silence, and it was getting uncomfortable.

“Is there something you guys need?” Marinette asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Just a question, kiss me if I’m wrong but dinosaurs still exist right?” Jason asked with mirth in his eyes.

Marinette closes her laptop, doesn’t say anything and just stares at them.

They started to feel uncomfortable that they got up to leave. When they get up to leave Marinette grabs Roy’s arm, stopping him from walking away, pulls him down for a kiss on the lips and then let’s go of him.

She see’s that the rest of the people that was at his table were now staring at her with wide eyes and Jason was gaping like a fish. She smirks.

“Dinosaurs don’t exist.” Marinette responded with a smile and a satisfied nod.

Marinette put her laptop back in her bag, picked up her coffee and was making her way out when she heard footsteps approach her.

She turned around and saw Jason in front of her.

“I may not be your first love, first kiss, first sight, or first date but I just want to be your last everything.” Jason responded with a smile.

“No.” Marinette replied.

“What do you mean no?” Jason asked in desperation.

“I mean, no. I had fallen in love before, but I haven’t had a first kiss or a first date yet.” Marinette responded with a smile.

Jason breathed a sigh of relief.

“I have just one question?” Marinette asked.

“Sure what is it?” Jason responded with a smile.

“When I was walking by your table, I heard your comment about the crowbar. What was that about?” Marinette asked.

“You heard that?” Jason replied shyly.

“Where you trying to whisper?” Marinette asked in disbelief.

“…. No” Jason said unsure.

“Unbelievable.” Marinette mumbled.

“Okay, we are going on a date Saturday. And on Saturday You will need to know how to whisper and how to keep your secret identity a secret,” Marinette replied.

“My….my what?” Jason asked in a panicked voice.

Behind him Marinette see’s Roy and the others widen their eyes. Marinette smirks.

“I mean I didn’t know until today.” Marinette said.

“why until today?” Jason asked confused.

“The butts match.” Marinette smirks.

Marinette and Jason hears laughter, they turn and see Roy laughing.

“You better date her or I will” Roy said still laughing.

“Don’t worry about it, I plan on making this relationship work.” Jason responded looking at Marinette who was looking at Roy in pure amusement.

I don’t believe in happy endings, but I do believe in happy journeys. And I have a feeling this journey is going to be a pretty exciting one, Jason thought.

#Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Roynette #Jasonette #Roy Harper #Jason Todd #Tim Drake mentioned #Stephanie Brown mentioned #Damian Wayne mentioned #Jon Kent mentioned

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wannabe-fic-writer · 4 years

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Natasha Romanoff x Reader : Future Holds

Summary: Time is an illusion that helps things make sense.

Warning: Language

Word Count: 2,673

* * * * * *

“Uh, guys we’ve got an enhanced on the field!”

Blue blasts shoot through the air, pained grunts fill your ear from the coms, and your teammates speak to you as you fight through the barrage of enemies. All the while keeping your eyes trained on the person surrounded by blue energy.

“Obviously Y/n.”

You roll your eyes,“ this is no time for jokes Tony, he’s making people fucking disappear.”

That grabs everyone’s attention. Continuing to fight, they look to the person you mentioned. Just as he presses his hands to the shoulders of two guys and consumes them with the blue energy.

You frown at the familiarity of the energy. It’s definitely something you’ve seen before.

“Thinking hard Y/ln.”

E/c eyes flicker to green ones and you chuckle.

“Always Romanoff.” Sliding under the legs of the enemy in between you two, you dodge out of the way when Natasha shoots a widow’s bite at him.“ Awe, you’ve always got my back Tash, that’s best friend material.” You smile teasingly.

She rolls her eyes, pushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear,“ I don’t recall signing up for that position.” She jokes back.

You’re mid laugh when you notice her eyes widening, gaze behind you. Moving quickly, you duck down and trip the enhanced. Only for his energized hand to land on Natasha. Her instantly disappearing, replaced with a blue mist.

“Tasha!” You exclaim in shock, turning to fight the man.

Noticing your shout, the team engages as well.

It’s obviously overwhelming to him but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t hold his own, effectively disappearing two more of your teammates, before Bucky knocks him out.

Jaw clenched you glare down at the guy, secretly hoping that he hadn’t- no, you didn’t want to think of that.

“Pick him up,” you tell Steve and Bucky,“ we need him to figure out what just happened to our friends.”

They nod and together you and the rest of the team takes the enhanced back to the compound to get Tony, Carol, and Natasha back.

* * * * * *

“Hey, Nat,” her body rocks as light fades into the dark,“ Natasha wake up.”

Finally opening her eyes, Natasha blinks to take in her surroundings.

Green. Yards of grass. Surrounded by trees.

Tony and Carol at her sides.

The billionaire is looking around, murmuring to the AI in his suit. Only for the helmet to retract.

“We’ve got a problem.” Both women frown at him.“ I can’t get F.R.I.D.A.Y up.”

Carol is the first to nod and move. Brushing her pants off,“ then we need to move. Figure out where we are and how to get back home.”

Natasha and Tony agree and together the group heads North.

Eyes wander all over as they keep walking. Until finally they reach the road. There doesn’t seem to be much traffic which is equally as bad as it is good.

Tony sighs,“ we need to find transportation. Walking is productive but it doesn’t seem like there’s much around so we’ll be doing this for a while and I prefer not to.”

Carol scoffs and shakes her head,“ I’m sure we’ll find something soon. And we don’t have options so let’s not get picky.”

And so the three continue to walk. Minds reel as they think of ways to get home and where they are. There were guesses but they weren’t sure. Everything was black when they were transported wherever they are.

It seems like hours pass before they find some sort of salvation.

Hopeful, the three trudge up the graveled path, stopping at the fork in the path. One leads up to a white paneled home and the other leads up to a matching garage.

The shared glances point in two different directions. Carol is thinking they take whatever car they find in there and Tony is thinking they go to the house and offer to buy whatever car is in there. Natasha stops the argument before it can begin and nods to the garage.

She’d rather not deal with a third party, it complicates things.

“Give me a minute, I got this.” Carol says cockily, before looking for something to unlock the Buick SUV.

Natasha and Tony survey the garage and keep watch.

Natasha’s confusion sky rockets when she sees the digital clock in the corner. The time reading 4:10 and the date reading 11/13/32.

That’s seven years in the-

“Bingo!’ Carol exclaims, finding something, just as Tony says,“ uh ladies-”

“Hands up, disarm yourselves, and step away from my car.”

All hands raise, a clang sounding through the area at the crowbar Carol dropped. And slowly they turn to face the source of the voice.

Frowns and wide eyes masking the faces of each person.

“Y/n?” Natasha asks wide eyed.

She watches as you frown, noticing the slight differences in your appearance.

Darker, definitely tanned skin, lighter eyes, is that a wrinkle forming above your brow. You look. . .Older.

Are they really in the-

“Who are you? Whatever sick game this is, cut it out now! I know all about aliens shapeshifting and facial reconfiguration tech so cut the shit.” You snap, aiming your gun at Natasha but keeping your eyes on Tony and Carol.

Tony laughs,“ we could say the same. How do we know this isn’t some mind trick being played by that energy wielding guy.”

Your frown deepens.

Natasha can’t believe this.

There’s always a way to find out if this is real. She’s had her mind altered enough to be able to spot unrealistic inconsistencies. If this is, in fact, a mind game, somethings bound to be missing.

“Y/n,” Natasha’s voice speaks and she watches the familiar tick of your ears as you focus on the sound of her voice.

She considers this being real. A small detail like that couldn’t be mimicked so perfectly in a mind game.

“My name is Natasha.”

You falter. Hands clench the gun in harder as you look over at her.

“Sure it is. And that’s Tony and Carol. I’m not stupid. If you’re the real Natasha where’s your car?”

They’d all noticed the empty spot in the obvious two car garage.

Her car? Why would her car be here? Wherever here is?

Their lack of reply has you taking a small threatening step forward,“ drop the façade or I shot and I promise I don’t hesitate.”

Natasha’s green eyes search yours and she’s sure this isn’t a mind game. But something is definitely wrong. In order to figure that out she has to stay alive. Which meant proving she’s actually Natasha.

“This isn’t a façade Y/n. We’re not aliens and we’re not wearing any face tech.” She speaks slowly to calm you as she’s coming to terms with what’s happening in her own mind.

It’s not far fetched. She’d been to the future before it just was a lot more complicated than the simple touch of an enhanced individual.

But you’re still frowning,“ prove it.”

She wracks her brain for a way to prove it’s her. So she needs fact.

“You have a scar on your thigh just above your knee.” She rushes out, eyes flickering to your finger on the trigger and back to your eyes,“ you got it in Thailand. We were leaving a base and while I was securing the data we retrieved you jumped in front of me and were shot in the leg.”

Confusion clouds your eyes, the frown that had been aggressive now curious. If you’re the real Y/n, and this is indeed the future, you’d remember that. It was your first mission with Natasha alone.

The mission that had drawn you two so close together. She’d learned she could trust you and your friendship bloomed from there.

“What’s going on?” You breathe, hand still holding the gun, finger hovering by the trigger despite it being at your side.

Something Natasha had taught you when you were a recruit at S.H.I.E.L.D.

Carol slowly moves around the car to speak directly to you,“ we aren’t sure. We woke up a few miles south of here. We were trying to find a way home.”

“Actually,” Natasha steps forward,“ I think we’re in the future.”

The woman’s words receive frowns from everyone. Not because it makes no sense but because they aren’t sure how she’s drawn that conclusion. So she steps aside and points to the clock she’d seen.

Carol gasps quietly and Tony groans,“ why hadn’t I considered that?” He mumbles to himself more so than anyone.

Hearing this makes your freeze and stare at the three people in your garage. And Natasha watches, especially as panic flickers in your eyes. Said eyes then snapping to the black sports car pulling into the driveway.

“Stay here. Don’t move.” You sigh, pushing two buttons on your way out of the garage.

Lights flicker on above as majority of the sunlight is cut off by the closing garage door.

Tony quickly turns back to the two,“ we need to get to the compound. I need my lab to figure out how to get us back. I’d need to find a way to recreate the time space gps but alter the time mechanism to be permanent. If not we’ll end up coming back to this time and-” his words trail off. The man heading to the table behind Natasha as he picks up a piece of paper and stats writing.

Carol and Natasha know that he’s no doubt working on the solution.

It’s exactly thirty seven minutes later when you return. The garage’s side door opening instead as you come in, an overly familiar red head behind you.

Eyes widen to the size of saucers this time.

Also it turns out, seeing yourself in the past/future breaks no time traveling rules. Proved by the fact that Natasha is staring into her own green eyes from across the garage.

Her older self chuckles, looking at the older you, then mumbling something only you hear.

Natasha watches intently, picking up on the body language of the older versions of herself and you. The way the two stand in each other’s personal space. The hand her older self has on your lower back. The way they look at each other. The just barely grazing hands. The rings?

Are you two-

“So, messing with time traveling again.” Older Natasha jokes.

Little does the group realize, the memories of this problem are piecing together in her mind. Same as yours.

Tony rises from his seat,“ you two wouldn’t happen to be able to get us in the compound would you?”

“You won’t need the compound. Turns out your tech obsession pays off. You have a lab here, follow me.” Older you tells the billionaire before waving for them to follow.

All of you leave the garage. Natasha trails behind, mind still racing about what she’s seeing and the assumptions she’s making.

She knows what a romantic relationship looks like. She understands the closeness of that kind of relationship. She just doesn’t understand you and her having that kind of-

“Don’t let what you see here change things.” Her own voice speaks to her, but she can hear how it’s matured.“ No matter what you see here, let everything play itself out.” Older her speaks, side eyeing her.

Younger Natasha frowns,“ what am I goin-”

“MOMS!!”

Everyone halts in their steps at the small but loud voices.

Younger Natasha sees the smirk on her older self, then the look she gives the older you.

“I’ll handle it.” Older her smiles,“ it’s best you get them back to their present before space and time rips itself apart.”

Even as they all turn to keep following you, Natasha finds herself curiously looking back.

Older her climbs the steps of the back porch, happily scooping a young h/c boy into her arms, and kissing his cheek. Then grabbing the hand of a slightly older red head girl.

Moms.

Moms?

Natasha ends up with children. Children with you. Her friend.

What?

The two of you are just friends. But that changes along the way?

How is she supposed to not let this change things? She marries you!

“Natasha!” Carol’s voice pulls the red head from her thoughts,“ you okay?” She back tracks with concerned eyes.

It’d be easy to say no. She knows Carol sees what she sees. It’s actually pretty clear.

So she nods and gives an assuring smile.

Carol doesn’t completely buy it, but she understands how this wouldn’t exactly be easily processed, so she goes with it. The two simply following after your older self and Tony who are both talking through the plan to get home.

None of them are expecting you to take them to a shed in the woods, that doubles as an elevator. The metal box taking them down to a fully functioning lab.

Tony’s eyes light up at the familiar and unfamiliar instruments around.

“Don’t break anything Stark. I know you haven’t invented half of this stuff yet.” Older you snaps at the giddy looking man.

Holding himself together, the man asks,“ why is this lab here?”

“I take it upon myself to learn a thing or two from you. Also you and Morgan like to tinker when you come to visit.”

An amused scoff leaves his lips. So Morgan is just as into tech as her dad seven years in the future.

“So let’s get you back to your time so you can experience all as the universe intended.” Older you moves around the lab easily.“ This’ll take time. And I’m talking days so get comfortable.”

* * * * * *

“God dammit!” You exclaim, fist colliding with the triple paned glass separating you and the enhanced man.

It’s been days. Questioning him, threatening, and even beating him and he hasn’t said a word. Bucky had to pull you from the guy when you’d angrily went into his cell.

Your frustrations had gotten the better of you.

All you know is that he’s a H.Y.D.R.A experiment. His powers derivative of the scepter which held the space stone. That’s how he was able to make them disappear.

But you still have no idea where he sent them. Space encompasses too much.

“Alright, Y/n, I think it’s best you take a break. We’ll keep questioning him but you need to step away before things get out of hand again.” Steve speaks calmly, knowing you’re upset but also that you shouldn’t let your anger carry.

Taking a deep calming breath, you step back, turn on your heel, and leaving.

No one follows. Giving you space to relax.

Hands run through your disheveled hair as you leave the building altogether. A growl leaves your mouth as frustrated tears pool in your eyes.

You’d dealt with losing Natasha and Tony in the past. It’d taken years to bring them back from what had happened with your final battle against Thanos. You can’t lose them again.

You need them. You need her. She’s your closest friend here.

“And here I was thinking Natasha’s emotionlessness had rubbed off on you.”

You roll your eyes,“ are you ever not a smart ass Stark.”

Wait. Stark!

The three friends stand a few feet ahead of you with smiles on their faces and you just stare at them in shock.

“You’re back!” You exclaim, throwing your arms around Carol and Tony first. The two hugging back.

Once they let you go, you pull Natasha straight into you.“ Almost thought I lost you there best friend.” You joke, despite the now happy tears in your eyes.

Natasha doesn’t make some sarcastic or joking comment back. She just squeezes you tighter and holds you a little longer.

“Everything okay?” You whisper, now wondering if something bad had happened wherever they were.

You feel her head shake,“ everything’s fine.” She pulls away.

Her eyes catch your frown.

“What happened? Where’d you go?”

A knowing smile hits Natasha lips,“ you’ll find out. Eventually.”

* * * * * *

I honestly don’t know. I hope this fits the request. I wasn’t even sure how to begin it but I hope it makes sense.

One down nine to go😅

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #black widow x reader #marvel #marvel x reader #mcu #mcu x reader #asks #request #reader insert

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astarkey · 2 years

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WIP Wednesday

I was tagged by @alwaysupatnight Thank you so much!!! 🤗💗

I didn’t have anything to show last week ‘cause I wasn’t working on any fics, but over the weekend, an idea came to me for the Witch!Kate fic and I just went ham 😂 so here’s the snippet that I wrote on a whim! And it pretty much continues from where I left off of Billie’s ghost hunting adventures, lmfao.

"Hello?! Anybody in here?!" he calls out while waving his hand around in the air. "Don't see anybody. Are you sure you saw someone?"

Billie nods her head, and suddenly, a loud thump is heard coming from the lower level of the house, startling everyone.

"Maybe that's just the mansion settling. Our house does that sometimes because it's old," Julie comments, and then the windows swing firmly shut that makes everyone's head turn.

"And I suppose it was the wind that did that, right?" Billie asks.

A sudden chill runs across her face, traveling further down her spine that she sees it's affecting everyone else as they stand around hugging themselves.

"Guys, is it just me, or did the room get colder?" Mikey asks.

"Holy shit," Eddy says in shock as he points at Billie.

"What? What is it?"

"Your… your breath."

She looks down to see her breath clearly visible with each puff she takes in and gives out while she's freezing all over. She looks up at Julie and sees her breath, too; and Mikey's, and lastly Eddy's.

A burst of fire then shoots up in the fireplace, causing everyone to jump.

"Screw this, I'm outta here!" Mikey says in a panic as he runs to the door. However, it slams shut on him before he could escape. "Shit!" he yells as he tries to pull back the door, but the force on the other side is no match for him as it restrains him. Eddy joins him as he pulls out his crowbar and pushes forward against it, using all of his might to pry the door open, and moments later the mysterious force behind the door disappears as the door swings back forcefully from Eddy's prying, and everyone takes this opportunity to leave.

While making their escape through the corridors, all the light bulbs they run past burst one by one, causing them to scream in terror as they cover their face from the flying shards. And they continue screaming as they quickly run down the grand staircase and make it to the double doors that are still locked.

"Stand back!" Eddy yells as he takes the crowbar and swings hard against the lock.

The bursting of the lights catches up to the gang as each bulb from the chandelier pops with sparks and shards flying, heading closer in their direction, and Mikey shouts, "Hurry up!"

One last swing, and Eddy breaks the lock loose, finally letting them free, and they push and shove against each other to go through the door.

Once outside, after nearly escaping with their lives and trying to recover, Eddy is the only one who lets out a chuckle.

"Oh, man, that was so cool!"

"Cool? You thought that was cool? We almost died back there!" Mikey exclaims.

"But would we have gotten that much action if we had gone to that stupid old cemetery? No! Come on, man, lighten up! We made it out alive!"

"Barely," he says as Eddy slaps his shoulder before he grabs his bike.

Everyone else follows, grabbing hold of their bikes before they hear a police siren, and red and blue lights flashing in front of their eyes as a black SUV pulls up in front of them.

The officer steps out of the car and says, "Millstone County sheriff's department!"

As soon as Billie hears the sheriff's voice and has a clear view of his face, she groans and sighs in embarrassment as she looks away from him; and as the sheriff shines his flashlight on the kids, he shakes his head while wearing a disappointed smile.

"Billie?"

Figuring that there's no point in running away, she turns to him, pressing her lips together tightly, and awkwardly smiling at him before responding in a dead-panned tone, "Hi, Dad."

"Kids?"

"Hi, Mr. Gonzalez," the three kids greet and wave to him.

Tagging anyone who has anything they’re working on that they wanna show!!! 🥰💓

#personal #alwaysupatnight #freddie finally makes an appearance lol

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kythed · 3 years

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the fallen

futakuchi x reader

synopsis: it’s a fallen world, and futakuchi is a fallen man. apocalypse au.

Strength alone won’t carry you through the end of the world.

Futakuchi Kenji knows this better than anyone. He’s seen countless men go down, most of them armed with machetes, rifles, and muscles three times the mass of his own. They walk around with the bravado of decorated generals only to get taken out by a single biter lurking in the storage closet of an abandoned gas station, destined to join the putrid ranks of the undead.

No, strength is not enough. You have to be clever, too. Extremely clever.

That’s the only way Kenji’s stuck around this long, he thinks, shoving cans into his backpack. He’s kneeling in front of a shelf in an empty supermarket, replenishing his rations without even bothering to read the labels. He can’t afford to be picky. Nowadays, “good food” is just whatever doesn’t give you salmonella.

He happens to catch the words on the last can as he gingerly places it atop the pile. Chicken noodle soup, it reads. Zipping the bag up and hefting it onto his shoulders, he wrinkles his nose-- he hates chicken noodle.

Clever means something else, too. Before, it meant report cards littered with As, college scholarships, knowing how to find the differential of a function. Now, it means survival. It means being able to keep your body moving even when every single fiber of your being is screaming at you to stop. It means knowing how to find clean water, how to bandage a tourniquet, how to identify biter tracks and have the good sense to bolt the opposite direction.

It means being able to leave people behind.

Kenji slips out the supermarket entrance, careful to avoid ringing the little bell that still hangs from the doorframe, a mockery of what was once civilization. Swiveling his head in every direction, he scans for even the barest trace of biters before darting out into the middle of the road, careful to keep the cans in his bag from rattling too loudly.

He’d started out with a small group comprised of several guys from his hometown. In retrospect, Kenji thinks he should’ve split that first week. Then maybe he wouldn’t have had to see Iwaizumi trampled by a herd of rabid biters, reduced to a bloodstain on the sidewalk. He wouldn’t have seen Kamasaki torn limb from limb right before his eyes while he could do nothing but watch in horror, paralyzed by fear.

Kenji is glad he’s run out of tears to cry.

“Fuck off!”

He’s shaken from his reverie by a string of cuss words and a drawn out scream, followed by the solid thwack of metal on flesh and the angry hissing of a biter.

“Somebody! Anybody, please! Help me!”

Sounds like a girl, Kenji thinks. He hates coming across girls-- that’s something he never, ever thought he’d say back before everything went to shit. But girls have always been more trouble than they’re worth, and it’s even truer these days. Kenji shrugs his shoulders, shifting the weight of his bag a smidge, and tries to trudge on.

“Please!”

Kenji cringes, halting in his tracks. Your voice is so achingly desperate, torn raw by terror. It’s the voice of someone who wants to live. And that, well, that’s something Kenji can relate to.

Against his better judgement, he heaves a heavy sigh and turns on his heel, grasping the duct taped handle of a baseball bat protruding from his bag’s outer pocket and spinning it in a practiced motion. He sprints towards the sound of your voice, silently hoping he’ll arrive before a biter takes a nasty chunk out of your arm.

Kenji is clever, and he knows it. He can find clean water, bandage wounds, and track biters. But leaving people behind? That’s something he has to work on.

You’re backed into a corner, wedged between the brick wall of a storefront and a recycling bin. Three biters claw at you and you swing at them with a crowbar, but it seems futile-- they’re already dead, and you’re not sure if they can even die again.

“HEY!” Kenji calls, tossing his bag to the side. The biters turn towards him with clumsy, lurching motions, decaying flesh dripping from their bones and empty sockets where their eyes should be. “Come and get me, shitheads! Bet I taste a whole lot better!”

One by one, they obey, snarling as they approach him. And one by one, Kenji takes them out with a violent swing to the head. Wide eyed, chest still heaving, you watch as their brains splatter on the sidewalk in foul pink lumps.

When the last biter falls to the ground, Kenji looks up at you breathlessly. “You good?”

He’s more than taken aback when you run towards him and throw your arms around his neck, squeezing tightly. Instinctively, he returns the embrace, pulling you close by the waist.

“Thank you,” you whisper, and he feels your heartbeat thumping wildly against his own rib cage. “Thank you, thank you. I really thought I was dying today.”

For a fraction of a second, he lets himself melt into your arms. It’s been a long time since he’s touched another human, and even longer since he’s hugged one. Sighing, he gently pries you off by the shoulders.

“No problem,” he says. You’re still clutching at his sleeve, looking up at him with something like admiration-- or maybe shock. He clears his throat and nods curtly, carefully pulling your wrist away and turning to grab his bag. “Uh, good luck out there, I guess. I gotta go.”

“Hey, wait,” you say, and he does, despite himself. More than anything, he wants to get out of there and back on track. He can’t risk the burden of company— in the apocalypse, company just means a broken heart waiting to happen. “I’m coming with you.”

“Oh, no you’re not,” he says, a wry laugh threatening to rip from his lips. “I travel alone.”

“Not anymore,” you say, and for a moment Kenji is speechless-- a rare occurrence. “Don’t give me that lone wolf shit. It’s a dangerous world out there, and two is better than one.”

Kenji raises an eyebrow at you. “You’re the one who was almost lunch just now. I can handle myself just fine.”

“Can you?” you say, stepping closer. You stare pointedly at his forearm, and he groans inwardly. He’d forgotten about that. It’s a cut, fairly shallow but long, and it’s begun to turn an oozing orangey-yellow. He’d caught his arm on a chain link fence he’d been trying to vault over— lame. “That doesn’t look good.”

“I know how to bandage a cut,” Kenji insists. It’s not a lie. But the issue is really that—

“It’s infected,” you say. You tilt your head back towards the storefront. “I have Neosporin in there. And half a bottle of painkillers, which you might need, depending on how bad that little scratch gets.”

“I’m fine,” Kenji insists. The “little scratch” throbs painfully as he lies through his teeth. “It’ll take care of itself.”

“Like hell it will,” you snort, glancing towards the store again. A faded sign above the doorway reads Miyazawa’s Convenience Corner, accompanied by the image of a grinning cat. “Wait just one second, then we can get going.”

Kenji doesn’t know why, but when you scamper into the store, he stays. He glances at his watch, a silver analog whose glass is split in two by a crack straight down the middle. He’d found it on the wrist of the first biter he’d ever taken down.

“Okay, let’s go,” you call, emerging once again. You’re bearing a backpack similar to his-- threadbare and distinctly not yours. He wonders who it used to belong to. “You got a camp?”

“Woah, slow your roll,” he says. He crosses his arms and stares down at you-- you’re pretty, he notices, underneath that layer of sweat and grime. You’re the type of girl he probably would’ve tried to hit on in the past. “First of all, I don’t even want you to come with me.”

You scowl at him, ready to disagree-- he silences your protests with a raised finger.

“But,” he adds, “if you insist on doing so, we need to set some ground rules.”

“Sir, yes, sir,” you say, giving him a mock salute and a bright smile. He rolls his eyes.

“First,” he says, sternly as he can manage, “I get all the canned oranges we find.”

You raise your eyebrows but nod nonetheless.

“Second, we don’t interact with other groups. Humans can be just as fatal as biters.” Kenji’s had to learn this the hard way, and from the way you swallow, expression solemn, he thinks you must’ve too.

“Lastly,” he says, allowing himself a small smile as he bends down near your ear. “Don’t fall in love with me.”

“Like I’d ever,” you scoff, stepping back. “You’re not my type. You just happen to be the only other person I’ve seen for months.”

“I’m everyone’s type,” Kenji says, with about as much confidence as he’d say the sky is blue and the grass is green. “Just be careful.”

“Sure,” you concede, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “So long as you don’t fall in love with me, either.”

“I’ll try my best,” Kenji says, and he will. He can’t afford to fall in love. Love is a painful, risky business-- and it’s expensive. Love costs a whole heart and about half a brain, two things he’s going to need if he wants to survive.

Still, you’re pretty. Real pretty. You’re kind of funny, too-- a deadly combination, and he’s no Achilles.

When he starts walking towards the street, you follow, struggling to match his long strides. He shoots a glance over his shoulder, along with a wicked smile. He’s missed this. “But no promises.”

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu fanfiction #Futakuchi Kenji x reader #futakuchi x reader #futakuchi kenji #hi guys i’m back hehe #should i make a part 2?#lmk lmao #i love apocalypse shit but idk how much y’all like it #zombie killer kenji is hot tho

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hajimewhore · 3 years

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Love Letter To You 💌 (Iwaizumi Hajime/Reader)

on [Ao3]

➸Rated T, fem!Reader, 7k+words ➷Fluff, some angst, humor, confessions, misunderstandings, twins with Tooru ➷You’ve had a longtime crush on Iwaizumi Hajime, and you can honestly say you don’t recall ever not having a crush on him. He’s your best friend, who also happens to be your twin brother’s best friend.

But that’s the problem, he’s still just your best friend.

What better way to tell him how you feel than through a letter confessing your feelings? Nothing could go wrong with that marvelous plan.

[Masterlist]

You let out a long sigh of defeat, scribbling across the page uselessly.

Realistically it’s a waste of ink if you’re just going to crumple the page and toss it anyways, but it provides some minor release of frustration at least.

Helplessly, you unlock your phone to google ‘How to write a love letter—‘ before entirely giving up on that idea.

Red faced and slightly embarrassed at the thought of resorting to a shitty wikihow article on love letters, you bury your face in your arms.

Taking that moment to collect yourself, you dive back into writing the confession letter to your longtime crush and friend, Iwaizumi Hajime.

Easier thought than done of course, but you’re sick of dancing around the topic and dragging it out.

You, Hajime, and your brother Tooru, are in your third year now. It’s better to rip the bandaid off, your older sister told you once.

But she’s married, and has Takeru. Needless to say you’re a little bitter to listen to her advice when she’s got everything sorted out, and when her husband was the one who confessed first.

You let out a whine of frustration, she is right in the end, she always is.

...Especially considering you’ve harbored this crush for quite some time now.

You sigh, tapping your lip with the edge of your pen.

Hajime isn’t one for dramatics, so simplicity is best. But there obviously needs to be more than ‘I like you’ scrawled on the page.

Instead, you decide to just write out a ‘I can’t believe I’m doing this but here goes nothing,’ (more like everything).

The line is followed by why you like him to begin with.

His strength, his passion, his humor, the other adjectives that follow suit, the fact he doesn’t let Tooru get away with being manipulative and bad mannered, all the good qualities that made you fall for Hajime.

And well, you’ve liked him for a long time. And you’d hate to let it go without ever having tried to tell him.

“Hey, can you—“

The previously mentioned bad mannered Tooru bursts in your room unannounced, and you let out a squeak in your surprise. You hastily shut the notebook to hide the letter.

“Tooru what the fu—“

“Can you stop yelling for a second? I need a face mask, I’m all out.”

“Can you learn to knock?”

Regardless of your irritation, you shove a face pack into his hands, while pushing him out of your room.

“Jeez, we shared the womb at some point but you cross the line at me coming into your room? We even used to share a bunk bed too! I miss those days.”

He sighs, but it’s cut off by the slamming door in his face.

“Thanks for the face mask!”

His voice is muffled through the door as you hear his footsteps echo down the hall.

Sighing in the relief of his absence, you slip the letter into an envelope and seal it shut.

You’re not even gonna bother to read it over, feeling far too nervous and embarrassed after having actually written out a confession to Hajime. And you don’t want to stress yourself more feeling self conscious about your handwriting, grammar, syntax, and whatever bullshit.

You wish you were bold enough to tell him to his face, feeling the letter might be a bit of a cop out, but you quickly disregard the notion.

Thinking about staring into his dark eyes and professing your love sends chills down your spine, you’re almost positive you’d bolt after barely stuttering out an ‘I like you.’ This way, you’re definitely able to get more than three words out. At least, that’s what you tell yourself to believe this is a good plan.

Now to just get the courage to hand it to him.

When the next day arrives, you find out you never actually gathered the courage to hand it to him.

The morning was spent with Tooru chattering away on the route to school.

Handing a letter to your childhood friend with a heart stamped over it in front of Tooru’s annoyingly perceptive eyes, directly in his field of vision, didn’t sit well with you.

For good reason, he’d definitely be clued in on your crush by the evidence before him. Not to mention Hajime would hate that kind of attention coming from Tooru.

In other words, it was the most inopportune time. You spent the entire walk pink faced and scowling, Hajime eyeing you with a brow raised and Tooru doing his best to lead the conversation for unusually quiet twin.

And that’s why you find yourself shoving it into his locker during practice.

The boys are busy in a set, and the coaches won’t notice you slipping away from your managerial duties for the moment.

“Oh. Oh fuck. I can’t do this!”

You suddenly panic, pressing your hands to your face in mortification.

“What am I doing?!”

But it’s too late, the deed is done, you’ve already gone and slipped the little letter containing all your secret feelings for Hajime between the slots of his locker. And there’s no way you can deface school property by taking a crowbar to the damn thing.

You shuffle out of the locker room, thankfully unnoticed. The last thing you needed in this state of utter disarray was to be caught red faced leaving the men’s locker room.

You just hope Hajime will set the letter aside and you can deal with the consequences later.

Or maybe he’ll set the letter aside permanently and forget of it’s existence entirely. That’d be a good option.

Except for the fact you would never know if he just forgot about the letter, or if he’s just ignoring the contents of it and in turn shutting you down and ruining your friendship and ignoring you for the rest—

The sound of whistle rattles in your eardrums and you jump, startled by the sharp noise.

“Clean up, boys! Head home, get something to eat, and rest well.”

Coach Irihata’s gruffly gives directions, and the team follows with a resounding ‘Yes Coach!’

You spend the entirety of clean up ignoring everyone. Not on purpose, no, but your nerves have absolutely skyrocketed.

When Matsukawa tried to say something to you, you nearly dropped all the water bottles. Thankfully, he caught the end of the box before you could create another mess to clean up.

Whatever he’d said to you went in one ear and out the other, as you caught Hajime’s hard stare at you.

“Sorry about that! Thanks, Mattsun.”

You bow out of the conversation, dipping out before anything else can be exchanged. Mostly so you can physically get yourself out of Hajime’s view, you don’t think you can handle seeing him after he finds what’s in that locker.

You wait outside, contemplating whether you should walk home ahead without Tooru and Hajime. If he stone cold rejects you, you might as well just do that. Knowing Hajime though, he’d never be so callus to you.

There are times he’s reprimanded you for having that patent Shittykawa personality, of course. You hate to admit it, and you’ll never be caught admitting it aloud, but you and Tooru are cut from the same cloth in the end. Though much to your affection, Hajime’s always been more gentle when he raps you on the head. You just hope he retains that same generosity when he inevitably rejects you.

He might just feel the same, though. Thoughts of Hajime pulling you aside to tell you he shares your feelings fill your head. You can almost feel him ruffling your hair, scolding you for being stupid to think otherwise.

The scenario makes you blush, and your hopes rise as you plop onto a bench and resolve yourself to wait.

“Shittykawa better hurry up. I don’t want to have to wait extra time, I swear I’ll ditch him.”

Hajime grumbles, swinging open his locker to pull out his casual wear.

“He said he wanted to talk to Coach Irihata.”

Hanamaki informs, but Hajime just scoffs at the info.

“Probably to get some copies of another team’s match. He’s gonna stay up watching it too, more trouble for his sister to wake him up in the morning.”

Hajime slips a sweater over his head, and the other laughs knowingly at his observation.

“Poor, sweet Oikawa-chan, cursed to be twins with someone as overbearing and overzealous as Oikawa.”

Hanamaki clicks his tongue, pulling a loose tee on, just barely missing the sour look Hajime sends him for the ‘poor, sweet Oikawa-chan’ bit.

“Ah! I-Iwaizumi-senpai, you dropped this!”

Kindaichi is delicately holding some sort of letter, presenting it to Hajime nervously. Why the boy is always so skittish around him he could never understand.

Hajime carefully takes the letter, examining it.

“This isn’t mine.”

He furrows his brow, he’s never seen the thing before.

“It fell out of your locker.”

Kunimi points out, and Hanamaki and Matsukawa choose that moment to tune back in.

“Did an Oikawa love letter get put in the wrong locker?”

Hanamaki teases, and Kunimi chooses that moment to tune out back out.

“What?”

“There’s a heart on it, it’s clearly some girl trying to confess.”

Matsukawa taps the heart sticker sealed over the top.

“Or guy!”

Kindaichi blurts out, and Kunimi rolls his eyes heavily at that.

Hajime goes to shove it into Tooru’s locker, ready to complain about his fanbase diving into the men’s locker room while they’re practicing, but Matsukawa’s swipes the letter from his hands.

“Hold on, you don’t know if it’s actually for Oikawa.”

“Who else would it be for?”

Hajime raises an irritated brow, already wishing he were at home.

“Could be for me.”

Hanamaki winks, tearing the letter open.

“No way, Hanamaki.”

“Oh yes way, Matsukawa.”

The two peer over the contents of the letter with excitement.

Kindaichi mumbles something about invasion of privacy and Kunimi eyes the situation from behind the locker, a little curious after all.

“Dear Hajime,”

Hajime blinks in mild shock at hearing the two words that sound from Hanamaki’s lips.

“Hold on—“

He reaches for the letter in disbelief, but the two swivel to block him out.

“‘I can’t believe I’m doing this. I’ve never done this kind of thing before, but I know you’d understand,’”

Hanamaki reads out, and Matsukawa chimes in,

“That’s cute, she’s embarrassed.”

“‘That’s what I like the most about you. You’re understanding, hardworking,” etcetera, etcetera, haha wait ‘You don’t let Tooru get away with being a brat’,”

Hanamaki practically busts a gut, and Hajime growls out trying to snatch the letter back but Matsukawa’s got it back in his grasp,

“She did not say that.... Hah! She did! Wow, this girl really likes you, Hajime~”

He teasingly refers to him.

“Hey, asshole, give it back.”

“We’re in too deep now, Hajimeee, sorry!”

Hanamaki sidesteps a smack that definitely would’ve left a bruise. Kunimi briefly thinks his senpais should be this level of eager to read in their studies.

“The stationary is really cute too, wish you could see it Haaajiiimee. It’s got little hearts and— no fucking way.”

Hanamaki cuts himself off, and at this point everyone is eyeing the trio’s shenanigans.

“Just give it back, dickhead.”

Hajime glares as Hanamaki points at something on the letter for Matsukawa to see. After a moment of analyzing he bursts into laughter alongside Hanamaki.

Hajime doesn’t think he’s heard Matsukawa laugh this hard about anything, and it’s kind of pissing him off how he’s only choosing now to start being more vocal.

“What the fuck are you laughing about?”

Hajime growls, feeling especially pissed he’s being left out of his own damn letter. The two bumbling, annoyingly tall fools wipe actual tears of laughter away.

“I-It’s not signed!”

Hajime gapes at the response, reaching for the letter again which Hanamaki so graciously allows him to take.

And true to their audio book version of the letter, it writes ‘Dear Hajime,’ at the top, kind words about himself, includes some badmouthing of Shittykawa that he momentarily appreciates, and at the bottom...

“You’re kidding me?”

“I’m sorry man, that sucks.”

Matsukawa pats his back in faux comfort, hiding his snort of laughter.

“And what’s this?”

In his distraction, he didn’t notice Tooru entering the locker room until he’s already plucked the letter from his hands.

“Hey fucker—“

He just got it back, but Tooru is already doing a second rendition of the audio book love letter.

“‘Dear Hajime,’ what the hell? This is so annoying!”

He puts the letter down to glare at Hajime, the look and tone of annoyance send a spike of anger in him.

“What are you on about? You get letters like this all the time!”

He’s ready to beat Tooru’s bratty ass but his response stops him in his tracks,

“Yeah, but not from my sister. I wish she’d write me heartfelt letters like this. But nooo, she’s always ganging up on me with you!”

Tooru angrily pokes him on the chest, but Hajime doesn’t retaliate. His world is spinning.

“What?”

“Oikawa-senpai, that letter wasn’t signed.”

Kunimi informs, very helpfully, and Matsukawa and Hanamaki eye each other with shocked expressions.

“Haaah? You guys are trying to tell me you don’t even recognize your own manager’s handwriting?”

His hands are at his hips, letter clutched between his fingertips.

“Someone as annoyingly perceptive as you might, but the rest of us are still humans.”

Hanamaki bites back, and Matsukawa snatches the letter in place of the dumbfounded Hajime.

“Hey, I didn’t get to read that!”

Tooru growls, but Matsukawa shoves his hand against Tooru’s face before he can lunge for it,

“....I think Iwaizumi’s the only one who should’ve read this.”

He mutters, reaching out to hand the letter back.

You lay seated at the bench, still, elbows to your knees and fingertips interlocked before your mouth. Your leg shakes with impatience and a swell of anxiety.

“What the hell is taking so long!”

You throw your head back with a cry, cupping your cheeks.

In an attempt to resolve the tension you feel coiling in your gut, you slide off the bench to your feet, reentering the gym to a find the stragglers.

Most of the team is already gone, but it’s strange how long the rest are taking. Normally, Kunimi is the first out with Kindaichi following close.

But you’ve yet to see either of them, or Mattsun and Makki.

Tooru is slow as always, that’s a given considering he’s late to practice half the time and late to leave, but Hajime usually keeps him in check.

You haphazardly swing open the locker room door, not caring if any of them aren’t presentable.

“Can you hurry up?! It’s cold out and I don’t wanna walk home by my...self...”

The end of your sentence trails off, losing its bite as you lock eyes with a wide eyed Matsukawa.

Who happens to be holding a letter, a very, very familiar letter.

Your cheeks turn a hot red at the realization, that’s your confession letter for Hajime.

You shift your eyes around the room to assess the damage. Kunimi and Kindaichi are averting their gazes nervously. Hanamaki and Matsukawa look like they want the ground to open up and swallow them whole, guilt written all over their features.

Tooru looks like he’s in the middle of a hissy fit, and you feel humiliated thinking he was here for what more than likely transpired, judging by the open letter in Matsukawa’s hands.

The thing that bothers you the most is Hajime’s slack jawed expression, opening and closing his mouth unsure what to say for once.

You can’t help but take heavy footed steps, the loud stomps echoing the uncomfortably quiet locker room. You feel as if your embarrassment and humiliation is tangible, the sheer awkwardness sitting so thick in the air you could cut it with a knife.

Matsukawa pales when you stand before him, and though he towers over you, he can’t help but feel intimidated by the anger stricken look etched across your face.

You swipe the letter from his hands, the paper sounds with a rip as it crumples in your shaking grasp.

You shift your gaze to Hajime, and Matsukawa almost sighs in relief at the attention being redirected off of him.

You glare, feeling the most contempt and anger for Hajime you’ve ever felt in your life. The petty arguments you had growing up can’t even compare.

“I-I— It wasn’t— I didn’t...“

Hajime can’t come up with anything to say. He’s never been one to stumble over his words, but the misunderstanding is set in stone while the guilt tears away at him.

He doesn’t even know why he’s feeling guilty, he didn’t even do anything wrong. Those lanky bastards stole his stuff from him, and he didn’t even know it was from you to begin with.

But that didn’t stop his heart from sinking when he saw the heartbreak and anger on your face.

“If you didn’t like me, you should’ve just said so. You didn’t have to show everyone!”

You yell out, voice unsteady, covering your face and willing yourself not to cry just yet.

You’re angry that they were reading the letter that was meant for Hajime’s eyes only. Angry that the red blush from the humiliation won’t leave your face, and it only serves to make you more red faced. There’s this sticky hot itch that’s burning at your skin. It’s starting to prickle the back of your neck, you just want to go home.

You thought Hajime would never do something like this, you were almost certain of it. He wasn’t the type to entertain locker room talk and banter about girls with his guy friends. And you definitely didn’t think he’d be the type to let your friends make a joke of you by reading out your stupid love letter.

You should’ve never written it in the first place.

“Hey, we didn’t know—“

Hanamaki tries but you’re quick to interrupt him,

“I’m not talking to you right now Hanamaki!”

He shuts his mouth the second he hears your scratchy voice. You didn’t even bother to look back at him, but he can probably guess the look you have on your face. He rubs the back of his neck, lips pressed into a thin line.

Kindaichi is looking at Hanamaki with a sorry expression, and Kunimi’s eyes have been trained on his locker the whole time, silently wringing his hands together.

You feel a pang of guilt wedge it’s way into your already complex fray of emotions, feeling bad for lashing out so hard on him. Feeling bad for making the first years so anxious.

The feelings are only brief. You disregard them when the image your Seijou teammates laughing about the letter inserts itself into your mind.

You sigh, lips pursing as you shift your watery eyes to your feet.

Why isn’t Hajime doing anything?

“Whatever. I’m going home. And don’t follow me.”

You give Hajime one last hard look before turning on your heel, storming out of the locker room.

You make sure to pitch the letter in the garbage on the way out, cursing the flimsy paper for causing so much turmoil.

You wait to exit the gym before you let the floodgates open.

Tears pour down your face, as you head back home.

At some point you stop bothering to wipe them away, since they just keep coming.

The sounds of the night fill your ears, cars passing by and wildlife calling out, but it’s still so quiet.

The lonely walk leaves you entertaining intrusive thoughts. How could Hajime feel the same way? It was foolish to think there was a chance, you’re his best friend, and his other best friend’s twin.

He must have felt so uncomfortable when he saw the contents of the letter. So grossed out he just had to show the rest of the guys in there.

The things Hajime did that once melted your heart nearly make you cringe, had it been platonic the whole time? And now you’ve misread it and ruined all those special moments, you’ve practically gone and reset your relationship status to strangers.

The head pats and hair ruffles. His rough hand, much bigger than yours, running through your locks or petting your head.

The rare, genuine smile he gives you alone. You swear you’ve only caught it on the volleyball court a few times, but it fills you with butterflies to see it in the comfort of your movie nights.

When you walk home together while Tooru is off gallivanting or practicing, he always makes sure to take you to your doorstep. Something you never understood considering you live next door to him, but it filled you with warmth every time.

The tears pool out harder when you think about how you’re going to lose all of it.

You let the thoughts snowball in your head, wondering how you’ll recover from this, how you’ll get over it, as the hot tears drip down you’re chin to the concrete.

The boys are left to stew in the silence of your wake.

None of them knew what to say, they only just realized it was their manager’s letter to Hajime moments before.

“Kunimi, Kindaichi,”

The two stiffen when they hear Tooru’s voice, his expression is neutral but his usual cheery tone is swapped for a terse, stern one.

“Get home. I know you two weren’t a part of this.”

The two nod tight lipped at their captain, collecting their bags. Kunimi keeps his eyes at his feet, and Kindaichi risks a glance at the upperclassman to see their faces turned down with regret. Hajime looks worse, brows furrowed and clearly distraught. He bites his lip before swiftly making his exit with Kunimi.

“Oikawa, you know we had no idea she wrote it.”

Hanamaki sighs, finishing what he didn’t get to say earlier.

“I don’t care, the damage is already done Hanamaki. You assholes are the reason my precious little sister is walking home, alone, to cry herself to sleep.”

Tooru’s gaze is as harsh as his words, the normal light in his honey brown eyes is traded for a darker look.

Normally, Hanamaki would correct Tooru by saying he’s only a few minutes older, but the current situation and the way his captain neglected to call him ‘Makki’ for once makes him abandon the idea promptly.

“I expect full handwritten apologies from both of you at practice tomorrow.”

Tooru demands, folding his arms across his chest.

“Honestly I don’t think she wants to see another letter—“

Matsukawa quiets himself as soon as Tooru whips his head to stare him down with narrowed eyes.

“Yep. On it. We’ll get to it right now.”

Matsukawa presses his hand to Hanamaki’s back and pushes him forward, briefly wondering if Tooru will let them leave the locker room.

But once their passed him, and out the threshold of the gym, they exhale deeply.

“You’re awfully quiet.”

Tooru turns his attention to Hajime, and the furrow in his brows and his scowl only deepens.

“I don’t want to be scolded by you right now, Oikawa.”

Hajime’s voice is rough. Tooru merely shrugs, arms still crossed.

“Fine. I won’t then. You look terrible enough already.”

Hajime would glare at him if he had the capacity to right now.

Tooru raises his brow expectantly after a beat of silence, though Hajime doesn’t know what expectations he could possibly have for him.

He’s dumbfounded, shocked, irritated, guilt ridden, honestly feels like dog shit at the moment, but at the same time...

“She likes me?”

Hajime covers his mouth and mutters lowly under his breath, but Tooru hears his realization and rolls his eyes with as much drama as he could muster.

“Did you miss her whole rant?! Or did you not read the letter?”

Tooru huffs, taking a few long strides to pluck the tattered paper from the trash.

“Of course I did! It’s all I can’t think about right now!”

Tooru cuts Hajime off by shoving the letter into his chest roughly. Hajime reaches up reflexively to grab it, feeling a bit somber at the torn state of it.

“I’m going home. Don’t come over.”

Hajime doesn’t think he could face you in his current state anyways, or yours for that matter. He saw your watery eyes holding back tears, and doesn’t think he can handle seeing you cry because of him.

“And get your shit together by tomorrow morning, yeah?”

The way Tooru tacks a smile at the end of that sentence makes Hajime want to hit him, but he knows Tooru’s right to act so bitter. For once.

“Yeah.”

He mutters, carefully folding the letter.

“Oh,”

Tooru stops in his tracks at the entrance to the locker room, causing Hajime to glance up.

“If you break my sister’s heart, I’m beating you up.”

Tooru calls out, tossing the gym keys to him. Hajime catches it with ease, while gritting his teeth.

That’s fair. He’d honestly have to let him, he’d hate to break your heart. He hates that it’s breaking right now.

“And if you date my sister, I’m gonna beat you up.”

Tooru pokes his tongue out and flashes a peace sign. So it’s a lose-lose?!

“Just go home, Shittykawa!”

Hajime spins around to hide the flush growing on his cheeks, willing himself to not beat Tooru’s ass for today.

He sits on the bench gathering his thoughts, giving time for Tooru to get a head start. He’d rather not awkwardly trail a few steps behind him while contemplating his relationship dilemmas.

“She likes me.”

He finds himself repeating, pressing a closed fist to his lips.

“...and she thinks that I don’t like her.”

Hajime groans, covering his face in his frustration.

A knock sounds at your door, and you’re positive it’s Tooru. He has a pretentious way of knocking. You’re also positive you don’t want to see him.

You turn over on your side, burying your face into the plethora of blankets and pillows you’ve huddled yourself into.

If you pretend to sleep, maybe he’ll go away.

“I know you aren’t sleeping!”

Tooru’s voice calls through the door, with an annoying lilt.

Curse this damn twin telepathy or whatever the fuck you call it.

You slide out of bed wiping a few more tears, knowing he’s not going to leave unless he gets his way.

“How’d you know?”

You open the door, giving space for him to enter.

“Hah! How could you after getting so brutally humiliated, heartbroken, and embarrassed?”

He makes himself at home on your bed and you grimace at the sheer audacity of it all.

“I should’ve put on the deadbolt when I got home and locked you out of the house entirely.”

You take a seat beside him, eyes catching the convenience store bag on his lap.

“Kidding, of course. I think it was worse for them. The way you stared down Mattsun? I thought he was gonna pass out. And you shut Makki up real quick too. Ahh, they must feel terrible.”

He eagerly recounts, and you’re suddenly reminded of what a bad personality your brother has.

“Don’t remind me.”

You sigh, after having time to think about it you started to feel a little bad for the way you reacted, they clearly looked guilty, and they’re your friends too.

“Don’t worry, I chewed them out. They’ve got a surprise for you tomorrow.”

You’ve already been dreading tomorrow, but Tooru doesn’t give you time to question what he means by his comment. He’s rustling through the bag, piling your favorite snacks and ice cream flavor onto your lap.

“Ice cream too? I must’ve looked pathetic!”

Though ice cream seems like a classically depressing heartbreak treat to have, you smile for the first time that night.

“You still do! Eat up.”

He cheers, procuring a spoon seemingly out of nowhere. You choose to ignore that comment this time.

“I thought ‘It’s bad to binge junk food, and especially so late at night’!”

You recount part of Tooru’s endless nagging when he caught you and Hajime during a movie night. Truthfully you think he was just jealous and feeling especially spiteful that he wasn’t a part of it.

“It is, but I’ll excuse it this once.”

He turns his nose up bitterly, and you can tell he’s recalling the same memory.

“Thank you, Tooru.”

You’re speak softly, almost brought to more tears at how thoughtful he’s been after the incident.

“Don’t sweat it. And don’t get too bent out of shape over Iwa-chan. You know he’s a good guy. When he’s not hitting and insulting me.”

He frowns, rubbing his arm as if he got a phantom pain.

“He’s the best when he’s doing that though!”

You’re crying again, much to your dismay, and you turn away from Tooru to eat your ice cream in tears.

“Let it out. Tomorrow’s a new day, alright? And at least get some sleep.”

He pats your head, and you feel the bed shift as he stands up to leave the room.

“You too! Don’t think I didn’t see you with those Karasuno and Shiratorizawa match history dvds!”

You call out through your sniffling teariness, and he sticks his tongue at you before leaving the room.

You set the snacks aside with a sigh, leaning back against the wall.

Your head is practically swimming, feeling overwhelmed by the events in the locker room as well as Tooru’s kindness (and semi-crypticness).

You tried to heed Tooru’s advice for once and attempted to get some semblance of rest, but you ended up sleeping rather poorly.

And to top it off, you’re lacking extra sleep considering you woke up earlier than normal. That was intentional though, entirely so you could skip walking to school with Tooru and Hajime.

Especially Hajime. You’re not sure you can face him just yet. The thought alone makes you want to explode.

You toe your shoes on at the door and sling your school bag over your shoulder, braving yourself for the day that awaits you.

When you swing the front door open, in some grand cosmic scheme the universe has against you, who do you see sitting on the steps before your house?

Iwaizumi fucking Hajime, of course.

“Iwaizumi fucking Hajime.”

You huff, just who you absolutely did not want to see.

Your name leaves his lips in his surprise. Upon hearing his own name being so bitterly called, he quickly stumbles to stand up.

Hajime averts his eyes, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Hey.”

Is what he comes up with.

“Hey? How long have you been sitting out here?”

A frown tugs at your lips, and you try not to let your eyes water at the sight of his face alone.

“I figured you’d try to leave early, I wanted to catch you before then. So... maybe an hour?”

He runs a hand through his hair, and you try to hide your shock at the information. Upon closer inspection, it looks like he hadn’t slept much either. Though, somehow, he still manages to look that rugged type of handsome. You kick that dangerous line of thinking to the curb before it continues.

“An hour?!”

“I didn’t get the chance to talk to you last night, after... yeah. I wanted to give you some space.”

He trails off and you bite your lip, readying yourself for the rejection speedily approaching.

You simply nod for him to continue. You don’t think you can trust your voice right now, and you feel your knees turn to jelly, shaking from the anxiety resurfacing.

“Your letter,”

You glance up when you hear the ruffling paper from his pocket. When he unfolds it, you see that it’s been smoothed out and the rips from having been recklessly snatched from Matsukawa’s hands have been carefully taped.

Your heart swells at the sight of the repair, but you bite down the hope that’s starting to peak.

“You didn’t sign it.”

. . .

“Hah?”

You blink at him, jaw dropping dumbly.

“You forgot to sign it. I didn’t know it was from you at first.”

He grins at your animated reaction, and you’re once again caught up in how handsome he looks with a smile on his face.

You quickly shake that thought, physically and mentally. Your cheeks bloom pink as you grab for the letter.

“I didn’t?!”

You’re eyes scan to the bottom of the page, and you notice that you in fact did not sign the damn letter.

How could you be so careless?!

You suddenly recall Tooru clamoring into your room for a face mask like some heathen that has no respect or morals for personal boundaries. You also remember that it caused you to scramble to hide the letter. After you’d been interrupted, you just sealed the note away.

“Tooru...”

You growl out, hiding your face with the page in your embarrassment.

Hajime laughs lowly at that, he doesn’t need any context to believe it turned out to be Tooru’s fault.

“Matsukawa and Hanamaki we’re dicks to steal it from me and read it, but we didn’t know it was from you until Shittykawa busted in and ranted about your handwriting.”

“Tooru...!”

You’re a broken record now, actively cursing your brother for his transgressions.

Hajime plucks the letter hiding your face to get a good look at you.

You’re mind practically soft resets at the cool expression and his dark green eyes.

“I’m sorry. This probably could’ve been avoided if I had just confessed to you first.”

He mutters softly, red starting to creep on his features.

“No, it’s not your fau— wait what?”

You must be hallucinating. That, or you’re unconscious and the part of your brain that handles dream production is being a huge asshole right now.

Hajime sighs, nervously running his hand through his hair again,

“I should’ve just told you I liked you sooner. Honestly, I’m kind of embarrassed you had more guts to do it first.”

“You like me?!”

You step closer, peering up at his face to find any tells for a lie or signs of a really convincing Iwaizumi Hajime imposter.

“It’s what I said, isn’t it?! Don’t make me repeat myself a third time.”

He presses his palms to your shoulders to take a step back, the proximity of your blushing and eager face is making him short circuit.

The fabric of your uniform sadly prevents any contact with skin, but you still feel yourself heating up at the touch of his hands resting on your shoulders.

“I... really?!”

“I think I’ve liked you for a long time, but I only realized it this year.”

It’s cute you can tell how hard he’s trying to maintain eye contact and keep a straight face.

You break out into a grin, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Hajime! You even said you didn’t want to say it a third time, but you did anyways!”

You hold him tight and he stutters a ‘Shut up!’ at you, the normal bite behind the retort is completely lost.

You pull back a bit to catch his eyes, and his lips turn down in that usual scowl. You laugh softly, the expression is severely displaced in juxtaposition to his now brightly colored cheeks.

You stand at the edge of your toes and pull him close, lips catching his. The sound of his shock from the abrupt, bold action is muffled.

Hajime quickly leans into it, his wide eyes slip shut as he moves his hands to caress your neck.

Your lips part from his so you can peak through your lashes to see the expression on his face. You’re only briefly able to admire Hajime’s handsome features and rosy colored cheeks, before he chases the kiss to reconnect your lips.

It’s more than you ever imagined, and you’ve definitely imagined what it would be like to kiss Hajime multiple times.

His hands are steady, thumb delicately brushing your jawline, he’s leaned close to match your height, and he kisses so intensely, showing a rare sweetness that Hajime can only reserve for someone he trusts.

Before it can escalate any further while you’re both on the Oikawa doorstep with the Iwaizumi household next door, you separate with a content smile.

You’re eyes are practically glittering, arms still rested around his shoulders. His impassioned gaze stares intently at your every feature,

“You’re so perfect, how did I get so lucky?”

And you’re almost drawn into another kiss but—

“Are you two gonna block the doorway all day? We have school you know.”

Tooru decides to make his entrance then, and he would’ve wacked you with the door if Hajime hadn’t been quick to pull you closer.

“What are you gonna do? Beat me up?”

He gives a knowing look to Tooru, a shitty grin crossing Hajime’s features.

“...if it were any other guy, I probably would. But I’m glad she chose you.”

Tooru steps around the two of you with a soft smile, leading the way to school.

Hajime stutters, and let’s out a huff at Tooru’s unusual display of sincerity.

“That brat is trying to act like the better man. He sure changed his mind overnight...”

Hajime stalls for a moment, before deciding to slip his arm from around you and his hand into yours, threading your fingers together.

“Tooru will be Tooru.”

You shrug, enjoying the feeling of his larger hand laced with yours.

“You mean Oikawas will be Oikawas. You’re both brats with bad personalities.”

He snorts, walking forward and gently pulling you along.

“What’s that supposed to mean?!”

You retort, and Tooru, embarrassingly enough, happened to say the same thing in perfect unison.

Hajime laughs loudly at that, and despite the tease you find yourself laughing with him.

Leaning into his shoulder, the constant smile is starting to make your cheeks sore, but you find yourself looking forward to feeling it more often now that you’re with Hajime.

Bonus:

Hanamaki and Matsukawa stand before you the second you enter the gymnasium.

“Wha—?”

“Oikawa-chan. We’re very sorry we read your letter,”

Hanamaki starts and Matsukawa continues,

“It was wrong of us to do, and we feel really guilty about it,”

They simultaneously produce letters from their pockets,

“Please accept our apology.”

They say in unison, and you can’t help but let a laugh burst from your lips. You’re bent over and clutching your stomach, nearly in stitches when you see their deadly serious expressions.

“Did you guys practice this?!”

You snort, this must be what Tooru meant when he said these two tall bastards had a surprise for you.

You accept the letters nonetheless.

“I’m guessing this is Tooru’s doing.”

You carefully open the letters, pulling Matsukawa’s first.

“Who else would it be?”

He grunts out.

“I see you two did your homework!”

Tooru calls from the door, entering the gym alongside Hajime.

“They really did it, huh.”

Hajime slings his arm around your shoulder, and you feel warm at the comfortable gesture.

“We’re men of our word, of course we did.”

Matsukawa shifts on his other foot, resting his hand on his hip.

“Right, of course. You don’t mind if I read this out loud then, do you Mattsun?”

You’re eyes glint with mischief and Tooru cheers excitedly, Hajime muffles a laugh beside you.

“Actually, I do mind—“

“That’s weird I’m already reading it out loud DEAR OIKAWA-CHAN,”

Matsukawa rolls his eyes, the irony cuts deep here.

“What is this, a love letter?”

Tooru jabs and Hajime immediately sends Matsukawa a sour look,

“She’s taken.”

You almost stutter reading aloud the apology when Hajime’s grip tightens around you.

“So this is karma.”

Matsukawa mutters with a light blush of embarrassment, feeling thankful he kept his letter concise so he didn’t have to sit through much more of that.

“Ahh, you don’t have to read mine right now. Practice is starting soon. Look, Kunimi and Kindaichi are ready to start!”

Hanamaki thinks he’s being sneaky, dragging his underclassmen into the matter, but he honestly just made this so much worse for himself.

“I’ll wait.”

Kunimi gives a bored expression, face tucked into his track jacket lapels. Kindaichi just stutters his agreement beside him.

Hanamaki sends him a look that probably translates to something like ‘you little bastard I’m gonna make you work so hard this practice’.

“Well go on dear sister, I wanna see what Makki came up with.”

Tooru wraps an arm around Hanamaki, who’s feeling very tempted to throw Tooru off of him for making him and Matsukawa go through this mockery.

“I’m invested now.”

Hajime voice sounds close to your ear as he leans close, you glance up and smile softly to see him peer over your shoulder at the letter.

“It’s genius, really. I put my heart and soul into it.”

Hanamaki tries to brush it off, but you bark out a laugh immediately after.

“Hey, don’t laugh at my heartfelt apology!”

Hanamaki complains, but you can’t stop the laughter erupting from you.

“Yeah, don’t laugh at his heartfelt apology.”

Matsukawa aids, already having been on the receiving end of the jests.

“I’m sorry Makki but... you forgot to sign it!”

You point at the letter, and Hanamaki stutters as he reaches to give it a once over. Matsukawa just rubs his forehead at the irony doubling.

“Tsk, Makki, Makki, rookie mistake.”

Tooru pats his back comfortingly, but it feels more like he’s mocking him than anything. Which he definitely is.

“How could I have known it was from you?”

You stick your tongue out at him teasingly.

“You didn’t sign yours, you know.”

Hajime pokes your cheek and you flush. The absolute betrayal, from your new boyfriend no less.

“Hajimeeee, I know! But we’re supposed to be making fun of them, not me! I was humiliated enough last night! They need to feel it too!”

You point accusingly at the two in question, and they raise a brow at your display of contempt.

“Not everything has to be turned into some revenge plot, Oikawa twins.”

Hajime pinches your cheeks and glares at Tooru for good measure.

“He’s right, you know.”

Matsukawa points out, feeling especially inclined to agree considering him and Hanamaki were at the butt end of the counter humiliation scheme.

“The audacity—“

Tooru starts, and you chime in,

“The nerve, my own boyfriend!”

“My best friend!”

“You should be encouraging me.”

“You should be encouraging her, but also me—“

“Enough already, you brats!”

Hajime smacks Tooru in the gut, before gently tapping you on the head with his knuckles.

“Iwa-chan, that’s blatant favoritism!”

Tooru coughs out, clutching his side.

“Get used to it.”

He grunts out, and despite being reprimanded by Hajime, you gently touch the spot on your head he tapped with a soft smile.

You preen at the soft way he scolds you. The warmth of his arm wrapped around you, his gentle looks of content to you when he thinks no one is looking, it sends the butterflies in your stomach crazy.

It’s all for you, and it’s hard to believe that Hajime is finally your boyfriend now—

“THIRD YEARS, STOP LOITERING AND GET PRACTICING!”

A/N:

Tada! 🎉 my first official fic!

Hope you enjoyed! If you could tell, I love drama. And humor. My asks are open, so shoot me a message! ▼・ᴥ・▼

[Masterlist]

#haikyuu!!#hq!!#haikyuu x reader #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi hajime/reader #haikyuu reader insert #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu fic

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