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#like a 'knife in his gut' he said.
spring-lxcked · 11 months
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shaking crying william being very concerned abt the idea of his kid(s) being openly queer because he knows the dangers VS william knowing exactly what it's like to be closeted your whole life and knowing that he would want to be openly queer if he was in any other scenario too
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teeramoonlover · 7 months
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Knock, Knock
Billy Loomis x Fem!Reader x Stu Macher
(NSFW)
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This is my first time writing oneshot, let alone smut. English is not my first language so bear with me.
Warning: Reader is a Virgin, Cussing, alot of cursing, knife play, mask kink, bondage, fingering, cunnilingus, deep throat, anal, threesome, and double penetration.
*Bold - Voice modulator, Italic - inner voice
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“Hello?”
“Hello.”
You furrowed your eyebrows. You didn't recognize this deep voice talking to you.
“Who’s this?” Instead of hanging up, your gut feeling tells you to continue the conversation with this stranger. Maybe you’ll get something out of it.
“You don’t need to know about me. I just want to talk to you.”
“Now why should I do that? Stranger danger. Didn’t your parents teach you that?” You saunter around the kitchen counter and stare at the sets of kitchen knives. You pull out a cleaver and wait for them to reply.
The stranger chuckled, amused with your response.
“Just want to call you so I get to know you better.”
You poked your tongue inside your cheek. You put the knife back in its place, humming to yourself.
“Alright, Mr Stranger. You got my attention and I'm bored as hell. Shoot your million dollar question.” You leaned your back on the counter, hand in pocket while another's still holding the phone.
“Tell me, do you like scary movies?” 
“Uhh, yeah.”
“What’s your favorite scary movie?”
“Does The Addams Family count? 1991 is the best.” You shrugged, checking your nails. The voice grumbled, annoyed with your movie choice.
“That’s not even a scary movie. And it’s a kid show.”
“Excuse me, that movie is my fave and you don’t get to judge my beloved Morticia Addams just because I watch a ‘kid show’. Besides, that movie is still considered horror okay. Take examples like Tim Burton’s production. Even though most of his movies are suitable for children, he still wants to insert horror elements so they could find comfort and won’t make them feel scared anymore. You should try Nightmare before Christmas or maybe Edward Scissorhand for starters.” you jested.  
“Not my kind of style. Edward is weird as fuck.”
“Oh now you’re crossing the line Mr. Nobody. Fun fact for you, Johnny Deep with or without heavy makeup is hot as fuck. Hell, if there’s any Johnny copycat out there, I’ll ride his dick straight away.” you mused. The audacity of this guy.
The stranger hummed.
Is it creepy that I can see him smiling through the phone?
“You should be careful what you wish for. It might come true.”
“Then, Amen for that. I ain’t regret what I said so if you have a problem with it, you jerked your tiny dick somewhere else.” 
He chuckled darkly.
“So, do you have a boyfriend?”
"What if I have one? Or maybe a girlfriend? What ya gonna do about it?” You rolled your eyes.
The phone went dead silent until a deep growl came out on the line. His voice changed to menacing.
“You don’t have a boyfriend. You’re not even lesbian.”
“Slow down tiger. I can change my preference wherever I want. Anyway, congratulations! You’re successful become from a total stranger to a fucking creep. Now no more games with me. What do you want?” You huffed, getting annoyed and a little creep out with his manic voice.
“Oh baby, you think this is a game? I’ll play a real game for ya. Knock, Knock.”
You yelped when you heard someone banging on your front door.
Shit. Wrong move.
You pull out a metal bat under the counter like you knew this would gonna happen and check around, especially every closed door inside the house. You already watched too many horror movies with Randy that you even know where the killer always comes out from.
“I ask you want more time. What the hell do you want from me?”
“You wanna know, you have to play the game with me.”
You jumped when you heard another banging. And this time, at your backyard.
“Knock. Knock.”
You gulped and took a glimpse at your back. As you saw nobody's there, you pressed your back on the wall and focused on the front door.
“Who’s there?”
You make sure all the doors and windows are already locked as your father went out training with his buddies. He says he will be coming home late.  
Double. Shit.
“Johnny.” 
You innerly scoffed. Oh he likes this game too much. 
“Johnny where?”
“Clever girl. Guess.”
You rushed to the front door and took a look outside from the window. No one was there. You blurted out the answer.
“The backyard.”
“Wrong.”
You shrieked as the sound of a crash came out from the living room. You ran there to see a big gape hole at your now shattered window. You scanned the whole room. Only one wooden chair and shattered glass all over the floor. 
He couldn’t make it inside that fast. You raised the phone as you heard his voice.
“I give you a second chance. Knock, knock.”
“Oh fuck you with your knock knock shit game! What do you want from me?!”
“I want you…to ride me.”
You inhaled sharply at his answer as you turned around with a bat raised in front of you. 
“You’re messing with the wrong person here.” You spitted. He chuckled mockingly, amazed that you still have a bit of spite even though you know you're about to lose the game.
“You should be asking where I am, (Y/N).” He enunciated your name deeply.
Sweat trickle down your temple as you took a step back one at the time. This stranger knowing your name just shot up your nerve haywire.
“Where the fuck are you shithead.” 
“Behind you.”
You turned around and hit the phone right to the side of his face.
His Ghostface leather mask to be exact. 
He covered his head from the hit with his gloved hand and you took that opportunity to bash his head with your metal bat. He doubles in pain as you hit his back with more force and knocks his feet to the floor. He lay on his back, gripping his back painfully as you stepped on his body.
“Now let’s see who's behind the mask.”
Before you could bend down to grab his mask, the air got knocked out from you as someone rammed from your side. Your head got slam on the floor hard followed by a body that stumbled right above you. 
There’s two of them?!
You tried to pry him off from you but it was no use. You could see from your blurred vision that two masked men were now crowded right in front of you. 
The first guy above your head took both of your hands and held them tight, giving out a painful moan from you, while the other one sat on top of your low waist between his thighs, securing your legs from moving.
You tried to trash your body only to feel a sharp knife under your throat. You looked up to see the second guy shaking his head. 
A warning.
“Looks like you lost the game.” Second ghostface seems satisfied seeing you beneath him. The knife in his hand trailed lower and lower to your neck. You could feel a prick of pain as the knife cut deep at your collarbone.
“Losers need to pay the price.” The first ghostface giggled, bringing out a rope from his black robe and tied your hand above your head.
“Two against one? Really fair, does it?” You gritted your teeth. Even though you’re already at their mercy, your mouth still runs like a goddamn sailor.
“Didn’t know this should be a fair game.” Second ghostface shrugged, still lingering his knife around your neck area. 
“So what? You gonna kill me?” 
“Careful, you shouldn’t challenge a killer with a knife. Now you said it, that does sound tempting.” The killer dragged down his knife to your waist. The cold of his blade sent chills down your spine as it put pressure on your stomach, emphasizing his words.
You gulped as you eyed the two ghostface. The one that sat on top of you seems like a person you don’t want to mess with. The way his voice held authority, meaning if he wants to kill you, he’ll make sure you’re good as dead. Even though he’s wearing a mask, you could feel his hot gaze on your throat to your collarbone that already bleed out from the small cut. His gloved hand reached out, smearing your oozing blood with his thumb. He loves it, you can tell.    
Another one above your head, however he's a different kind of persona. He seems to like goofing around and having fun stabbing his victim. More sadistic, more of an unhinged bastard. If he takes his mask off, you bet he'll be that funny, easy going guy. His head tilted to the side, staring at your body in awe. Like you'll become his biggest meal tonight.
"But since you beat my friend here, I'll give you a chance. If you want to live, you need to do something for me." He hinted at the end of his sentence. The first Ghostface started to laugh hysterically. 
Somehow you know what he meant, knowing what they're gonna do to you.
"What do you mean?" You shuddered.
In a split second, he pulled your body and switched position, making you on top of him. You could feel the bulge between your legs as his hands gripped your waist.
"You know what I meant."
Your whole body shivered in fear and excitement. You don’t know why your body react that way. Fear, yes but also excites you?
You already soaked in your panties, though it was the adrenaline of the chase.
You subtly rubbed yourself on his groin. He sighed in content as you kept rubbing his hard on. 
“That’s it, babe.” His breath ragged as both his hands moved your hips and pressed deeper to his crotch. His hips thrust to your core, making you let out a soft moan. 
You feel someone's hand held the back of your head, turning you to meet the first Ghostface. His gloves were already gone from both hands, as he’s working on to half-done his zipper jeans.
“Open your mouth, kitten." He slipped his thumb, pressing your lips to open. He inserted two fingers in and out as you swirl your tongue around his fingers. They were so long that you gagged as it reached at the back of your throat. When he pulled out his fingers, a string of saliva coated them.
“I’ve never done this before.” Your face was red, embarrassing to admit that you never had sex before.
“We know you’re a virgin.” He whispered. His thumb stroking your lower lip, his mask titled to the side.
“Don't worry about that. We promise to make you feel good, m'okay?" The Ghostface under you sat up, his hand tugged teasingly at your waistband while the other one caressed your cheek. His deep voice is surprisingly tender, luring you in like a moth to his flame.
Without thinking, you nodded at his words.
Beneath those masks, their smirk grew wider, finally getting you hooked with them. 
"Lift your hips for me, baby." 
He tore his gloves from his hands and guided your hips upward. As you stand on your knees, he tugged down your shorts and panties in one go. You gasped at how rough, desperate he wanted to strip you naked. 
He took out his knife and started to rip them in half. You shiver from the cold as your clothes discard aside.
A pair of hands from behind reach out to your breast and fondle them. You whimpered as he pulled and squeezed your nipples. Another hand slipped to your wet cunt, thumb circling your clit.
"Gosh, your pussy is so wet for us. We're just getting started." He mused. Slowly, he inserted two fingers inside you, thumb still rubbing your clit. You shuddered, your back laid on someone's chest, who still continued grasping your breast.
"Look at you, seeking pleasure from two psychotic serial killers. Ain't ya a dirty little slut." The one from behind cackled in manic, enjoying seeing you completely vulnerable for him.
You subconsciously ride your hips with his fingers inside you, reaching your high. Your tied arms pressed in front of his chest as his friend from behind starts to dry hump your ass. You could imagine how big their dicks are, one pressing from the back while the other one underneath your pussy, still finger fuck you.
As if they knew you're about to come, he pulled out his fingers. You let out a small whine, feeling the loss of your pussy to be filled. He dip his finger beneath his mask, groaning in pleasure as he tasted your juices with a mix of blood.
Your hair got clutched from behind and dived you to his tent. When he pulled down his boxer, you were awestruck at how thick and veiny his hard rod is. He tapped his dick on your mouth, precum smeared at your lower lips.
"Like what you see?" He chuckled, seeing you looking at his cock like that got him more turned on. 
You flustered, eyeing the two black holes resemble eyes staring at you, silently to gain his permission. He nodded, pushing his tip further into your lips.
You subtly open your mouth, licking his precum and heard his deep groan in return. This made you sucked and licked his tip and moved your hand up and down his length.
He tilted his head back. Though you couldn't see with his mask on, a sense of pride grew in you, pleased to see him feel that way.
"You're sure this is your first time? Fuck, this feels amazing." He bucked his hips in your mouth.
"Open your mouth wide open, tongue down. I'm a deep throat till you swallow all of my cum." You do as he said. He thrust his dick deep in your throat, making you gagged but you held it in. 
He fucked your mouth relentless, both his hands keeping you in place. Tears pooling down your face as saliva spilling from your mouth until your nose touches his pelvis. You tapped his thigh, coughing up when he pulled out his dick from your swollen lips.
You're too focused on the man in front of you, that your ass was raised in the air and gasped as you felt a tongue licking at your entrance.
"Damn I can eat this pussy all day." He growled from behind, licking and biting your clit. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as his tongue does wonders to you. 
You gagged as he pounds in and out of your mouth, while from behind a tongue lick deep in your entrance. His nose teasing your clit, earning you a moan vibrating through the dick in your mouth. Both of them release low moans, reaching their high.
You tap his thigh, pull you away from his dick as you feel a knot in your stomach.
"I-I some-something d-down there." You cried out, feel his friend's wet tongue thrust in and out of your cunt. You gasped from sensation, as he's licked your rim hole.
"Then cum all over his mouth, princess. Let him taste every drop." He strokes his dick as you stick your tongue out to his tip. You feel your release as the man behind lapping your juices clean.
"God, she tastes so good. I wanna fuck her wet cunt till she's scream."
The killer in front of you didn't say a word, staring at his friend 
"You can't have her. She beat you up, remember?"
"The fuck that's supposed to mean? We won, she lost."
"Correction, you get beat to a pulp and I'm the one stopping it. So, I get the prize and you just, I don't know. Enjoy the show?"
"I'm already hard and you’re telling me just to watch you all over her? Hell no man!" 
They way they're talking about you like you aren't there bothers you, but at the same time kind of hot.
You could tell his friend was frustrated, agitated while him with you on his lap stroking his tip to your folds. You whimpered as he nudged his face mask closer to your neck. You could feel his wet tongue licking and sucking at the cut he gave you. 
Deep down you know your choice terrifies you but you don't want his friend left behind.
"There's two holes for a reason, ya know." You mumbled low, but somehow both killers caught on to what you said. They both were stunned. Not long after, the one you sit on his lap snickered darkly.
"You're one dirty little virgin. Didn't know you're into that." He gripped your hips closer to his already hard crotch. You blushed at his indication.
Truth is, you stumbled upon a porn magazine from Stu's wardrobe, asking you for his sweatpants as he was in the bathroom. Curiosity kills you when you open the magazine, the page showed a blond woman penetrated by two men, dick in her cunt while another in her ass.
The image haunted you yet deep down you want to know how it feels like, to get banged by two. As you stare at her lustful face, you jump when you hear Billy's voice from outside Stu's room. So, you threw away the magazine and hastily grabbed his shorts. When Billy enters the room, he stares at you intensely. He always does every time you're in his sight. He raised an eyebrow as you gave the shorts, muttered, "Give it to Stu, he wants it." and you made a mad dash out of his room.
You know for the fact that the chances you're getting DP is slim to none. But seeing as of now, your fuzzy brain was like why not.
"You're an angel, you know that? That's why you're perfect for us." The frustrated Ghostface was now like he's in cloud nine when you told him that, hugging you from behind.
"You're meant for us, (Y/N). Remember that." The one with you on his lap was now laying down on the floor, bringing you with him so that your pussy was placed right on his outstretched cock. As his tip penetrated your entrance, you whimpered as the slight discomfort got you. As your tied arms gripped the black cloth of his front, his hand teasing your clit, trying to distract you from the pain.
As he is completely inside you, the discomfort was replaced slowly with pleasure, fullness from his thick length. His sighed in relief, loving his dick snug deep in your pussy like a vice.
"Fuck you're so tight, baby." He rasped as he helped adjust his length inside you. When he felt you ready, he slowly thrust in and out of you, making you moan.
"You like that? You like riding this cock?" His slow thrust became erratic as he rammed your throbbing cunt. Your mouth gaped open, couldn't reform words when he hit you at the right spot. 
"Y-yes, right there. Shit! You're so big." You uttered breathlessly, bouncing his dick as he thrust deeper in you. 
As you ride him, you feel another one trying to penetrate your asshole. You jumped at the sudden intrusion, stopping you as he continued to push in, hissing at your shoulder.
"S-shit! My cock gonna cut in half if you keep squeezing me like that." He buried his face on your neck as he roughly thrust you in one go, making you scream.
"M'sorry babe. Can't help it."
You try to glare at his face, or more precisely his mask. You could imagine his stupid grin, staring at you adoringly. 
This is too much. For you, a virgin and never been fuck let alone anal, this is a lot to take in. You could feel their dicks stretched inside every hole of you down there. You try adjusting to this new stimulation. They’re both moving in sync, in and out of you, feeling both of their dicks rubbing your wall one at the time. It makes you see stars as they fasten their phase.
Skin slapping filled the room, with your moan and their groan in a mix.
“Fuck fuck fuck I’mma cum!” You feel his hand gripping your hips as his thrust turns sloppy. Your body started to shake as the one beneath encircled his arms around you, keeping you close to his chest as he slammed you hard on your g-spot. 
You nearly scream from pleasure as orgasm washed over you, followed by the one behind, pumping his seed into your throbbing asshole. Your pussy tightens is all it needs from the one beneath you to paint his cum on your walls. 
He gave his one hard, second thrust at your asshole then pulled out his softened cock. The way he stared at his cum spilling from your ass stirred something inside him.
His fingers subconsciously slipped his overflow cum inside your hole. For some reason, he doesn’t want a single drop of his seed leaking out of you.
You take a deep inhale as your eyes flutter close, trying to calm from your euphoric state. You could hear his heartbeat thumping as your head laid on his chest, with him too catching his breath.
The only thing you remember is feeling a peck on your forehead and a kiss from your nape, with a deep raspy voice you manage to hear before exhaustion overtook your body.
“That’s my good girl.”
After you pass out…
“Man, that’s the best thing happen in my life!” Stu sighed, satisfied as he pulled off his Ghostface mask and slipped in his now soft dick in his pants. He looked over at his friend who was still lying on the ground with their favorite girl on top of him.
“You're lucky I came up with this plan. Knew it our girl had same fantasies like us.” He grinned, smiling like an idiot, while Billy too slowly took off the mask.
“If you didn’t pull out that porn magazine, she wouldn’t even think about it, genius.” He murmured as he stroked your arm. He sighed in relief with his eyes closed, hearing your soft snores calmed him.
Maybe they could pay you another visit, and it will be on nice bed this time.
And sure as hell he'll make sure of that.
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theostrophywife · 8 months
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le coup de foudre.
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pairing: regulus black x reader.
song inspiration: my love mine all mine by mitski.
author's note: this was a result of me binging dune and call me by your name. whoever fancasted timothee chalamet as regulus deserves a forehead kith cause look at him. he's so boyfriend coded it makes me sick.
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Regulus Black did not believe in love at first sight. 
It was a foolish notion. One that contradicted his pragmatic beliefs. At his core, Regulus was a realist. In his world, love was not a luxury one could afford. Regulus was raised with the expectation to marry according to class, wealth, and most importantly, blood status. The noble and most ancient house of Black only took the purest of the pure. 
After all, toujours pur, always pure, has been his family’s motto for centuries. There has never been any doubt in his mind that he’d marry another member of the sacred twenty eight. It wasn’t a matter of if, only a question of when. 
During his sixth year, his mother made her intentions very clear. Walburga Black was adamant that he begin his search for a suitable bride. Leave it to his mother to compose a list of ladies she deemed suitable to become the future Mrs. Black. Regulus was to adhere to the carefully curated roster. They were names that he’d seen a million times before. Greengrass, Prewett, Rosier. Girls he’d grown up with and inadvertently had absolutely no interest in. 
Still, his mother was insistent so Regulus complied. He took the girls out on dates. The formula was rather simple: dinner at the fanciest restaurant in town followed by a walk around the city square in which he offered to buy his date a dessert like the proper gentleman his mother raised him to be. Despite the fact that Regulus had the entire process down to a science, the dates were always unsatisfactory. 
He was polite, of course. Opened the door, pulled out their chair, asked the appropriate level of questions to get to know his counterpart, but by the time the appetizers arrived, Regulus was on the verge of stabbing himself with the butter knife just to rouse himself from boredom. 
Regulus placed no blame on the girls. They were only doing what their families had raised them to do. Sit pretty, chew gracefully, agree with his opinions. All while wearing breakneck heels and a smile to boot. It was all terribly fucked up, but this was the world they lived in. 
The more he went on these dates, the more he realized that he didn’t want some pretty, docile wife. What he truly needed was someone who was willing to challenge him, to call him out on his bullshit, to argue with him when his own stubbornness prevented him from seeing reason. Regulus came to the horrible, earth-shattering realization that he probably wouldn’t find a woman like that on his mother’s list. 
As he walked back from another mind numbing date, Regulus grappled with this newfound dilemma. He didn’t want to endure another one of these disastrous dates. He didn’t want to sit through an entire meal making small talk. He definitely didn’t want to disappoint another girl by not kissing them at the end of the night. 
It wasn’t like any of them liked him anyways. Though they loved the idea of Regulus Black, he was quite certain that they wouldn’t afford the same affections to Reggie—the real and true version of himself. The one that Sirius often said Regulus kept in a neatly locked cage.
He wished he could be more like his brother. Sirius had always been the brave one. It was that infamous Gryffindor boldness that prompted his older brother to rebel against his family’s expectations. Instead of heeding to their mother’s ridiculous list, Sirius chose to date Remus in open defiance to Walburga’s orders. It resulted in him getting kicked out of 12 Grimmauld Place and burned off the family portrait, but Sirius didn’t seem to mind one bit.  
In a lot of ways, Regulus envied his brother. Sirius had the guts to stand up for himself. He wasn’t burdened by the crippling pressure of pleasing their mother. In all honesty, Reggie wondered if such a thing was even achievable. As he brooded, Regulus found himself on the shores of the Black Lake. His body had taken him here on autopilot. It was his only place of refuge in the castle. 
Regulus paced the rickety wooden dock. His mind was working so fast, so many thoughts spinning in his head, that it felt like he might work himself up to a fit. This has always been his problem. Sirius often said that he lived in his head too much. He frowned, trying and failing to get ahold of himself. For once, he wished he could just shut his brain off entirely.
Just then, Regulus felt a drop of water hit his head. He looked up and found dark, gray clouds hovering over the horizon. The stormcloud broke open and unleashed torrential rain all around him. Fucking fantastic. The world truly couldn’t give him a bloody break, could it? 
With a sigh, Regulus began making his way back. The ground was sodden underneath his feet, his boots sinking into the sand and dragging behind his black coat. The waves lapped violently across the shore as the wind lashed against the murky waters. Regulus was almost at the edge of the beach when he spotted you. 
A flash of movement from the corner of his eye. Regulus stopped dead in his tracks. There, at the mouth of the Black Lake, in the middle of the pouring rain, stood a girl with the most breathtaking smile he had ever seen. 
Regulus was fairly certain that you had History of Magic together. He sat behind you in class, passed by you in the halls, even reached for the same book in the forbidden section of the library once, but Reggie had never once seen that smile. The gravity of it threatened to knock the very breath from his lungs. 
There was something carefree about you. The way you spread your arms, tilted your head back, and laughed in the midst of the rain and thunder. Almost like you were welcoming the storm. 
It was only when your eyes locked that Regulus realized he was staring. You cocked your head at him, trailing your gaze from the curls plastered against his cheek to the nice button down and freshly pressed trousers that were now soaked from the rain, down to the shiny leather boots that were now digging into the sand. You seemed amused at the sight of him.
Ever the perfect gentleman, Regulus snapped out of his daze and jogged over to you. Without hesitation, he raised his coat over your head to shield you from the rain even though you were already both drenched. 
“What are you doing out in the rain?” Regulus asked, his voice full of genuine concern. “You’ll catch a cold.” 
You stepped out of the refuge of his expensive looking coat and held your hand out, catching droplets in your palm. “I don’t mind. I just…I just needed to feel the rain on my skin, that’s all.”
You supposed it must’ve seemed strange to him, but the rain always made you feel better. Lately, life had been just a little too overwhelming. There was so much pressure to do well in classes, to hang out with friends while balancing your clubs and sports, as well as making time to write back to your parents. When it all became a bit too much, you tended to come to the Black Lake for some sort of refuge. The rain was just an added bonus. 
If Regulus found your behavior bizarre, he didn’t say. Instead, he just smiled softly. “Well, you got your wish. It’s soaked out here.” 
“I know,” you responded with an enthusiastic nod. “It’s nice, isn’t it?” 
“Standing out in the pouring rain? On a beach where lightning can strike me down at any second? Yes, it’s absolutely splendid.”
Your mouth quirked in amusement. “No one’s telling you to stay out here.” You nodded towards the castle. “You’re more than welcome to take your brooding inside where it’s warm and dry. Not to mention, free of the dangers of lightning strikes, which are extremely rare by the way.” 
“With my luck, I might be the poor one in a million git who gets torched while getting insulted by a pretty girl.” 
“Did I insult you?’ you quipped back. “I hadn’t noticed.”
“You accused me of brooding.” 
“I didn’t accuse, I stated. Even the Wizengamot would have to rule that you were, in fact, brooding.” 
Regulus raised a brow. “What happened to innocent before proven guilty?” 
“Unfortunately, the evidence is overwhelming and the verdict is set. You, Regulus Black, have been sentenced for glaring at the Black Lake so menacingly that even the giant squid refuses to come to shore. Off to Azkaban you go.” 
“Do you promise to write me letters? Update me of how the world’s progressed without my dazzling presence?” 
“It would be my genuine pleasure.” 
Regulus chuckled at your dry humor. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d bantered like this with anyone, much less with a strange not-so-stranger. You sat down on the wet sand and patted the spot beside you with a grin.
“Why don’t you take a seat and tell me all about your troubles.” 
Beyond the bleak horizon, the spires of the castle peeked through the gray clouds. Regulus thought of the common room where his housemates would no doubt be gathered around the ornate fireplace for warmth. Knowing his friends, they’d probably be indulging in spiked hot chocolate and playing some childish drinking game. A few minutes ago, nothing appealed to him more, but now Regulus found himself choosing the violent rain and soggy sand. All because of you, his mystery girl.
You leaned back on your elbows and cocked your head at him. “What ails you, Mr. Black?” 
“That depends. How much do you bill per hour?” 
“Fortunately for you, I’m in a generous mood so I’ll throw in a free session. Consider it my pro-bono work.” 
“How kind of you,” Regulus said with a serious expression. “My brother’s been nagging me to see a mind healer for years. All that childhood trauma, you know.” 
A small smile tugged at your lips, revealing a set of dimples that he found rather charming. “I can’t tell if you’re being serious or not.” 
“My brother is Sirius. I’m Regulus, remember?” 
You snorted in a very unladylike manner, which only made Regulus grin. There was something so unapologetically you in your laugh that was absolutely endearing to him. Regulus smiled and knocked his shoulder against yours. 
You mimicked the action and smiled back at him. “All sarcasm aside, I was being genuine. If you want to talk about it, I’m here to listen.” 
"Do you often offer therapy sessions to complete strangers?"
"Only to surly Slytherins with sad eyes and pretty curls," you quipped back. "And we're not strangers. I sit behind you in potions. We're practically best mates."
"You think my curls are pretty?"
"Like a little cherub's. Are you quite sure you haven't escaped from the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel? You look like one of Michelangelo's angels. Except with way more scowling." Regulus grinned. He got the feeling that you always said whatever you wanted, whenever you wanted. It was refreshing. "There's a smile. See? Our session is already progressing."
"I think you might get more than you bargained for with me, I'm afraid."
You met the challenge in his words head on. "Try me."
“You were right. I’m definitely guilty of brooding.” 
“What happened?” 
Regulus hesitated for a moment. He had never been the type of person to be candid with his feelings, especially not with someone he barely knew. Usually, he just kept his thoughts to himself and ruminated on them in the privacy of his dorm until he drove himself mad by overthinking, but your presence brought him an unexplainable ease. For once in his life, Regulus chose not to question it. 
“I’ve had a long night,” he said, tucking his knees up to his chest. “I just got back from a date.” 
“It didn’t go well?” 
“It was…fine. It’s always fine. But it’s the same thing over and over again, just with a different girl.” 
“I wouldn’t have taken you for a playboy, Regulus Black.”
Regulus chuckled. “I’m not some unscrupulous rake, I assure you.” 
“Yes, that much is obvious from your use of the word unscrupulous.” You tucked your legs underneath you. “So why go on all of these dates if you find them so tedious?” 
“It’s my mother,” Regulus explained. “She has this list.” 
“A list?” 
“Yes, a list of girls that I’m to court. Noble, pureblooded, proper ladies of society that my mother has deemed worthy of marriage.” 
“You’re seventeen years old. Shouldn’t you be worrying about quidditch games and potions exams?” 
Regulus nodded. “Yes, one would think. But my family has always been different. Since my brother left, my parents have been obsessed with grooming me into becoming the perfect heir.” 
“How do you feel about that?” 
He sighed. “Stifled. Exhausted. Smothered. I can feel the weight of their expectations weighing me down every second of every day.” 
“I’m sorry, Regulus. That’s a terrible burden to carry.” 
Regulus shrugged. “Others have it worse.” 
“It doesn’t mean that your problem is any less heavy.” 
To Regulus, the acknowledgement felt oddly validating. Even though you knew nothing of his circumstance, there was wisdom in your words and you delivered it delicately, like you actually cared to hear his troubles. You were devoid of the judgment he'd grown accustomed to and he found that rather freeing.
“It’s just…sometimes I think that I’ll never be the perfect son. My brother, he’s always been the brave one. Classic Gryffindor,” he said with an eye roll. You chuckled, but stayed silent. It was obvious that Regulus had a myriad of thoughts to unpack tonight and you were more than happy to just listen. “Sirius has never cared what anyone thought about him, least of all our parents. I admire that about him, but I just don’t think I’m wired that way. I care too much.” 
“That’s not necessarily a bad thing,” you said softly. “Apathy is so common nowadays, finding someone who can admit that they care is refreshing. Though, I think it’s not without limits. You can’t please everyone. No matter what you do, someone is going to have something to complain about. You might as well be yourself.” 
“That’s exactly the problem,” Regulus pondered. “All of these girls on my mother's list, I think they like the idea of Regulus Black, but he’s an illusion. It isn’t the real me.” 
“Then who is the real you?” 
“I don’t know,” he said honestly. “I’m just Reggie. I like playing quidditch and reading depressing literature and memorizing obscure history facts. I hate messy rooms and orange juice and anything that crawls.”  
You smiled. “And what kind of girl does Reggie like?” 
“Someone witty. Someone funny. Someone who’ll argue with me. Someone who doesn’t just nod and agree with everything I say."
"So what you're saying is that you don't want a nice girl?"
Regulus shook his head. "No, I think I need someone who challenges me. Who sees me for who I am rather than what I represent. Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure the girls on my mother’s list are lovely, but I don’t think they’d actually like me if they knew who I really am.” 
“I don’t know, Reggie seems like a great guy. That Regulus bloke, on the other hand…” you scrunched your nose in disapproval. 
“Hey!” Regulus chided, “I’m pouring my heart out to you. That took a lot of courage, you know.” 
“You’re very brave, Reggie,” you said with a grin. “But you know what would be even braver?” 
Regulus squinted in the rain as you stood to your feet. Lightning crackled over the horizon, illuminating you with an ethereal silver glow. You held out your hand to him. “Come dance with me.” 
“Deathly afraid of being struck by lightning, remember?” 
“Sorry, what?” You asked as you shimmied around him. It wasn’t graceful by any means. It was the goofiest thing he’d ever seen and yet he’d never been so enthralled. You danced without a care in the world and it made him genuinely laugh. “I can’t hear you over all the fun I’m having.” 
"This is ridiculous," he said over the roaring thunder.
You shrugged. "Perhaps. But everyone's allowed to be a little ridiculous sometimes. Besides, I was asking Reggie not Regulus."
“Are you really trying to peer pressure me into dancing with you?” 
“That depends,” you replied with a cheeky smile. “Is it working?” 
Regulus conceded with a sigh and leapt to his feet. The youngest Black brother bowed like a proper gentleman. “May I have this dance, my lady?"
“You may, good sir.” 
You grinned up at him as he took you by the waist and waltzed with you across the sand. Surprisingly, Regulus let you take the lead. He chuckled when you stepped on his toes and laughed even harder when you tried to twirl him. Towering a good foot over you, Regulus had to fully crouch for the maneuver to work. 
Finally, you gave up the formality and just spun around in dizzying circles. There was absolutely no rhyme or rhythm to it. Just two idiots dancing in the rain with the biggest smiles on their faces. 
Your coordination, or lack thereof, caused you to almost faceplant into the sand. Regulus yelped as you took him down with you. By the time you recovered from the laughing fit, the two of you were red-faced, out of breath, and laying side by side along the shore. He turned over to you and brushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear. 
“That was the most fun I’ve had in years.” 
“See? There’s more to life than just being moody and melancholic.” 
“So this mystery girl of mine keeps reminding me,” Regulus said with a smile. “You never told me your name, by the way.” 
“Wow, you don’t even know my name? I’m offended, Reggie. We’ve only been in classes together since fifth year.” 
“I—we’ve never been introduced—” 
You broke out into a smile and giggled. You thought it was cute that Reggie was so easily flustered. “I’m just kidding, Reggie.” 
He sighed in relief as you stuck out your hand. “Y/N. My name is Y/N.” 
Regulus slipped his hand into yours. He cocked his head, studying your eyes and your smile and those cute little dimples. 
Y/N. The last name on his mother’s list. The one he saved for last because he didn’t know who she was. 
The French had a saying—le coup de foudre. The infamous phrase translated to a bolt of lightning or love at first sight. Regulus had long dismissed it as flowery prose, but thanks to his mystery girl, he started to think that maybe the Parisians were onto something because meeting you tonight felt preordained. A date with fate. Like a bolt of lightning streaking through his dark, endless skies.
“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N.” 
You grinned. “It’s nice to meet you, Reggie.” 
Regulus smiled and laced your fingers together. He was frozen, it was raining, and he was fairly certain that you were both probably going to catch a cold, but he didn’t care. In that moment, as he stared up at the sky, blinking back the rain, and intertwining his fingers with yours, Regulus had never felt more content. 
So no, Regulus did not believe in love at first sight, but love at second, third, and even fourth glance? He smiled a little as he gazed back at you, letting his gaze linger as he drank in that infectious laugh and sunny grin. 
You made him think that maybe, just maybe, a girl like you could convert a skeptic like him into a devout believer.
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fanfictionera · 4 months
Text
My Queen (BuckyxReader) Smut
A/N: I have always wanted to write a Sex Pollen fic but every time I tried to write one it didn't feel right. Finally I started writing and the vibes started flowing. I wanted filthy smut but with emotion and feeling and I hope that I achieved that. Either way I am super proud of this and I hope readers enjoy!
Pairing: Bucky x Reader
Synopsys: The reader and Bucky are sent on a mission where they are exposed to what is referred to as Sex Pollen. Their feelings for each other are forced to be faced.
Word Count: 6,218
Warnings: Sex Pollon, Friends to Lovers, forced sex (due to drugs), sprinkle of Angst, Bucky, SMUT, SMUT SMUT SMUT. SO LITTLE PLOT.
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My Queen
Bucky stood in the back of the Quinjet, checking over his person. It was like a ritual for him, starting from the top he would check every strap and belt, double check each gun and knife blade. His body swayed, compensating for the slight lurch of the Quinjet before it leveled out.
“And we have touched down,” Y/N said from the pilot's seat, with a press of a button her chair spun around. She came up behind Bucky gently tugging on his back harness. The back of the Quinjet dropped down, revealing several structures in a clearing, surrounded by trees. They began to make their way to the larger building in the center. The clearing was shrouded in a dark gray filter as the misty fog creeped its way through the trees, under a sky blanketed by cloud cover, reclaimed by nature. A scan showed no signs of human life, which was little in the way of relief.
They silently approached the front door before stepping into the building. A home. The remnants of one anyway. They entered the kitchen, with a table still made. Flowers in a porcelain milk jug left dead, wilted and dried in the center. A plate sat next to a folded newspaper. Y/N could feel the shift in the air as soon as they walked in. The weight of the secrets of the house, hidden behind the semblance of a quiet life, mixed with the pure evil that seeped from its walls in tendrils made Y/N uneasy. 
They progressed through the first and second level of the home. Although every surface was covered in a thick layer of dust each room sat pristine, frozen in time as if the owner just ceased to exist. One of many of Hydra’s calling cards.
They made their way back outside and to the side of the house. Y/N turned scanning the tree line as Bucky yanked and cleared away brush that covered the storm doors nestled against the house. Nature revealed the chained and padlocked metal doors.
Bucky pulled the chain, breaking it in his metal hands. The parts slipped through his fingers like sand. The doors opened with a gut dropping creek revealing a set of stairs leading down into a dirt floor cellar. 
“Ladies First.” He waved his hand as he motioned his hand forward, his eyes scanning behind Y/N. 
She walked forward, “What a gentleman.”
The cellar was packed hard, the air was stale and stagnant. The wooden shelves that lined the stone wall held glass jars full of canned food. 
Bucky walked to the corner, moving a basket out of the way, revealing a hatch. 
The ladder led down to a concrete room, with the only doorway being a gated elevator shaft. An electrical box was mounted on the wall. Bucky opened it and began to check it over before pulling the large handle down. It made a large metallic thunk as Bucky forced the handle down. A soft wiring noise began to buzz.
Bucky pulled the metal gate to the side, ushering Y/N into the car, he closed the gate after he stepped on and reached for the hand crank on the side. Slowly the metal gears began to move and creak as the elevator descended. “Why does every Hydra base have a creepy elevator?” Y/N asked as she took in the rust-streaked walls of the shaft illuminated by dingy yellowing lights that flickered as they warmed up. 
“Günter did suggest rainbows and butterflies, but as you can see, he was outvoted.” Y/N tried to hide her smile as she rolled her eyes.
The elevator came to a stop as it reached the bottom of the shaft, pulling the gate aside again, they found themselves in a storm of destruction “What is this place?”
“It's a lab, was a lab.” Bucky looked around, “I don't believe I was ever here, but it's where they developed all kinds of fun.”
They began to clear the room, flashlight in hand. Tables sat disheveled and tipped over, their contents scattered. Papers littered every surface like confetti. Various medical equipment and hardware mixed and mingled with the papers, while every box of a computer was shattered or broken. As if someone punched every screen. Several lighting fixtures hung from the ceiling, attached by a few wires, while others found their way to the floor. Bucky held a dangling light to the side, letting Y/N walk through before following.
She scanned the room as she took another step, a loud popping crunch noise made her jump, she looked down, lifting her foot, to see the glass shards sprayed across the floor. 
Bucky laughed as he pushed past her. “You’ve been playing to many zombie games,”
“Shut up.” She walked behind him.
Bucky laughed again as he held his arms out, doing his best zombie impression, ‘Brainsss.” He turned to grab her head. “No brainsssss”
Y/N shoved him playfully, "Can we just do this and get the hell out of here?" Bucky chuckled as he clicked on his flashlight and continued sweeping the lab with a smug smile on his face. Y/N wasn't going to lie, nothing about this place made her feel good. She wasn't sure if it was because of its history or its current state, either way she was very much looking forward to leaving. 
As they continued into the next room, Y/N eyes came to rest on Bucky’s back. They trailed across his harness, how it spanned across his wide shoulders. The dim lights still highlighted the muscular lines built into the metal of his arm. Bucky paused for a moment, pivoting on his heel to double check a dark corner. His face was concentrated, eyes trained. She couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like to have them trained on her. 
She shook her head, focus, she mouthed to herself. With the room cleared they were moving forward again; her eyes came to the back of his head and down his back. They slowly trailed down to his ass, framed perfectly in his tactical pants, the seams accentuating his curve. 
Suddenly Bucky stopped, looking up at a mess of chains, “Let’s see what's behind door number one.” He put his flashlight between his teeth as he began to roll his sleeve up his flesh arm. 
Y/N watched, entranced by the simple action, she glanced up to see Bucky watching her. He smiled around the flashlight; he reached up with this metal hand taking the source of light. He took several steps toward her before bringing his hand up to her jaw.
“That’s what does it for you?” he swiped his thumb against her bottom lip before swiping his thumb down, pulling her lip with it. “Is it my arm?”
She nodded.
“Or is it my fingers?” Her eyes dilated as Bucky chuckled leaning forward, “Do you want my fingers?” She could feel his breath against her skin as he walked behind her, his flesh hand reaching around, grasping the toggle of her zipper. She could hear each tooth unzip as he pulled the zipper down its full length. The coolness of the metal left a tingling sensation as he followed in the zipper wake, his palm slid down her stomach, closer to her aching core. Her breathing became heavy as her head began to spin.
“Hey,” Bucky’s voice sounded firm, the look of concern evident “Are you okay?”
The world came crashing back in a blink of her eye. Her eyes snapped open to find Bucky standing in front of her, still messing with the chains. She shook her head trying to shake off the ghost feeling of his touch. Y/N took a deep breath, her brow began to pull together, "Do you smell that?” She takes another deep breath through her nose, “It's almost sweet, floral, its faint.”
Bucky looked at her puzzled, the air around them smelled musty and old. Then the realization hit him. "Shit.” With the chains forgotten, Bucky grabbed her arm and pulled her back down where they came, “Where is that vile you stepped on?”
His touch was distracting, “Over, over there, I think?" He let go of her, "What's going on?” Y/N asked as Bucky began searching the ground.
He turned still looking, “Just, please, we need to find it.”
She walked back over a row and kicked a pile of papers, a cracked vile rolled out, “It's right here.” The end was still intact, the label holding the shards together.
Copulation Stimulant 
Y/N’s eyes read over the label, “Is this?” She looked back down again hoping she read it wrong, “This is, oh my god--no-no-no-no.” She dropped the vile again, the realization setting in, her hands coming to her face as she rambled, “I can't do this, this has to be some cruel joke. Yeah? It’s labeled wrong? I can’t actually fuck my best friend…I can't--”
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“Oh, come on now,” As Y/N began to spiral Bucky knelt down to confirm his suspicion, "Best Friend!?" He tried to joke, to keep Y/N with him. "Nat might fight me for that title."
"Stop. I'm serious. You don't understand," She began shaking slightly, overwhelmed as the tears began to fall down her cheek. 
Bucky's smug smile dropped from his face as he took in Y/N’s state, his eyebrows knitted together.
Y/N's chest tightened as she looked up at him. “I can’t fuck my best friend because I’m in love with my best friend."
"Sweetheart" The word came out of Bucky’s mouth like an exhale as he took in her words. 
“Oh my god, am I going to fuck my best friend, who I’m in love with, for the first time in a dingy old Hydra base." Y/N's mind was moving a million miles a second. A heat began to spread from her core, she took a deep breath. 
“Come on,” Bucky gently grabbed her arm, "Not here, let's get back to the Quinjet, okay?”
Y/N shook her head as she let Bucky lead her out of the bunker. She could feel the heat spreading throughout her body, like water slowly trickling down through the soil, saturating each grain as it was pulled down by gravity. It felt invasive. 
The Quinjet bay door began to close as Bucky climbed into the pilot's chair. Y/N sat in the back, her breath becoming heavy. "I'm getting really hot." 
“Like little pin pricks of heat all over your skin?" The Quinjet shook slightly as it rose into the sky.
"Yeah-h" Y/N said as a sheen of sweat began to cover her face. 
"It's hitting you faster." He quickly flipped some switches before getting up out of the chair, he grabbed a med kit duffle bag out of the closet before kneeling in front of her.
Y/N's brow slowly pulled together, "Why?"
"It's designed for super soldiers." Bucky began as he pulled out and cracked a jelly ice pack, instantly making it cold before placing it on her neck. "Which means it's stronger for you."
Y/N felt the sting of the cold radiate, "Okay, okay…okay. What's going to happen?" Her head swirled as she placed her hand over his that held the ice pack, grounding herself. “Be honest.”
Bucky took a deep breath, unable to pull his gaze from her pleading one. "Your adrenaline will slowly rise, until your heart feels like it's going to burst and every cell in your body is vibrating." He flipped the ice pack to the other side of her neck. "It's going to alter chemicals in your brain, driving up your sex drive and arousal." His chest began to heave as he began to feel the effects. “At the same time, it will lower your inhibitions and block all sense of self control.”
Y/N took a deep breath through her nose. "And sex is the only way?"
"No, we can ride this out." Bucky said as he also breathed deep. "It will be torture, an ache of a pain that will thunder through your existence. Every second you resist will feel like one second closer to death, but it won't kill you."
Y/N fought through another wave of heat before responding, "I don't know what to do. It's getting hard to think."
"Yeah." Bucky knew what was to come. How many hours they would have to endure if they waited it out. He dropped the ice pack, now warm, before bringing his hands up to the sides of Y/N's face, pulling her focus back. "Listen to me," He took a moment, “Never in a million years would I have wanted this to be our first time." He let out another grunt as he fought another wave, a smirk appeared through it. "I planned on asking you out, on a real date, before I led you to my bed. To treat you like a queen. My queen.” Tears threatened the corners of Y/N's eyes. Her heart was beating in her ears, and it felt like years as they leaned forward, their foreheads resting against each other. “If we do this now, it won't be like that, you need to know once I start, I will not be able to stop. You will not be able to stop."
Her fingers came up dragging down the edge of his scruff-covered jaw line. “I understand. I trust you, please, I trust you.”
The moment his lips touched hers everything stopped. Bucky physically felt Y/N's body relax as her lips began to move against his. She snaked her hands up his chest and behind his neck before pulling herself off the back of the chair and as close to him as she could. 
Y/N got lost in the intense high created, everything slowed down and hazed over. A dull, mind numbing, wave of emotions swirled in her brain as all sense of time was lost till eventually it wound itself into a ball and exploded against the back of her eyelids. The heat began to fade, leaving a chill across her skin. Her head felt empty and tired. Mentally she couldn't string two coherent thoughts together. Her body felt loose, and her eyes watered as a tear slid down. 
"Hey, it's over." Bucky was catching his breath as he held her head in his hand, looking into her eyes, "it's over," her gaze was distant. 
"Shit." Bucky held onto her, held her close as he began rummaging through the duffle bag, "Come on, there you are." Bucky returned to Y/N, "Y/N, doll, I need you to take this. It will help, can you do that?"
Y/N Glanced down at the small syringe in his hand, "What is it?" The words slurred and tired.
"It will let you sleep till we get back and Bruce can help." Bucky replied softly. 
The tears began to stream down her face, "I'm feeling everything. At once."
“I know. It’s the drug, a side effect.” Bucky took her hand, “Sleep will help.”
“Okay,” Y/N shook her head as she sniffled. Within moments of the liquid entering her blood stream, Y/N's eyes became heavy, and her body relaxed as she drifted off. Bucky gently maneuvered her, placing her on her side across several seats. He fixed her suit, now ripped wide open from navel down to her exposed thighs, her breasts out on display. He pulled the sides of the fabric, covering her the best he could before he grabbed one of the packs of the on-board pillows and blankets, ripping it out of its packaging. He positioned the small pillow under her head and draped the blanket over her body before cleaning himself up and making his way to the cockpit. 
Bucky listened and waited for her to fall into a deep sleep before grabbing the headset. "Friday, please connect me with Steve and Bruce."
"Right away," Friday responded as two small transparent screens appeared in front of Bucky's face. 
Steve's face was scrunched as he slowly woke up, "Hey, what time is it?"
"Two." Bruce replied as he did a double take, pulling on his glasses, "In the morning."
"There's been a situation," Bucky's voice was low, Steve's attention was immediately caught, and he finally took in Bucky's appearance, "We came into contact…with a substance," Bucky looked back again making sure Y/N was still out, "It was developed by Hydra for their breeding program, they called it copulation stimulant, but everyone referred to it as sex pollen." As the Quinet silently made the trek back to the compound, Bucky filled them in.
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Bucky tossed and turned in bed, he rolled over, sheets tangled around his legs and stared up at the ceiling. Taking a deep breath he reached over for his phone, the screen turned on showing it was only mid-morning. 
He rubbed his face before kicking his sheets off and sitting up on the edge of the bed. He stared down at his floor, his mind taking over sucking him back into that moment. Flashes of Y/N's face, filled with fear, overwhelmed with emotions and emptiness played on repeat. 
He blinked away the images as he made his way out of his room. Bucky walked down the hall towards Steve's room. 
Steve sat at his table; papers strewn about as he caught up on his paperwork. He heard the knock before Bucky walked in. 
"How are you feelin'?" Steve asked as Bucky slumped into a chair, aimlessly picking up a piece of paper, setting it back down, not interested. 
"How is she?" Is all Bucky asked. 
Steve pushed a tablet towards him, "Medically speaking, she's okay, nothing more than a few bruises."
Bucky looked down at the screen, a mission report, currently on the recorded incidents page. His eyes instantly skimmed and settled on Y/N's list of injuries before swiping through the rest of the report.
"I decided not to include the details." Steve continued as Bucky sat the tablet down with an exhale. Steve slowly set down the pen as he leaned back in his chair slightly. "Buck, how are you?"
"Angry." Bucky shook his head. "For me to go through it again, fine. But not her."
"Did Hydra use this stuff often?" Steve's brow pulled up softly. 
Bucky's lips flashed a sad smile with a huff of a laugh, "It cycled through. They called it a compliance tool." He looked at his friend, "Sometimes they would call it a reward." 
"Jesus." Steve let out under his breath. 
“They had an endless supply of compliance tools and rewards.” Bucky shrugged slightly, "I'm okay Steve, honestly.”
"I was going to go check on her in a bit.” Steve leaned forward and picked up his pen again as he glanced up at the clock on the wall. "Bruce gave her something to help her sleep more, rest is probably the best for her right now, so she probably won't be stirring for another hour or two." Bucky nodded his head slightly as Steve spoke.
Steve watched as Bucky began to slip back into his thoughts. "Hey," His voice pulled Bucky's eyes to him. "You guys will be dancing around each other again soon enough."
"I told her." Bucky's confession came out softly. "How I feel, right before I railed her brains out in a fit of uncontrollable horny rage." 
“I’m sorry, what?” Steve sat staring at his friend, “You thought, that after being exposed to a chemical weapon used to sexually exploit their victims, yeah this is a good time to confess my feelings to the woman I’ve been absolutely obsessed with since the first day I saw her?”
"Yup," Bucky popped the p, "In my defense she confessed first.”
“Unbelievable,” Steve pinched, “Why are you two like this?”
“In love? Or Insane?” Bucky asked back with a shrug,
Steve crossed his arms as he leaned back, “Go talk to her you jerk."
Y/N’s room was dark, every curtain pulled tight and not a single light was on. She had woken up several times only to roll over and fall back asleep, not wanting or ready to face the world yet. She lay on her belly, letting herself lay there, her head spiraling with thoughts. She grabbed for her phone, the brightness from the screen making her recoil, it was already close to two in the afternoon. She rolled back over onto her back, staring up at the ceiling. 
“What's wrong with me?” She asked quietly to herself. 
She never wanted to experience sex pollen again, it scared her to her core to have her own free will taken away. Her heartbeat picked up as she thought about it, a panic slowly bubbling. She took a deep breath, “We can ride this out.” His words echoed in her head. “I wanted to take you out on a date. Treat you like a queen. My queen.” Her heart stuttered a moment as she took another deep breath. 
A knock at her door drew her attention. Slowly she rose from her bed, just as she approached the door another soft knock came. She reached for the handle and opened it to find Bucky standing with a paper bag in hand.
She stared at him, her words stuck in her throat, “Team ordered out, I got your favorite.” Bucky held the paper bag up. “I, um, I wanted to check in and.."  He paused as he shrugged.
Y/N could see the anxiety and pain behind his eyes. She stepped closer to him, her hands coming to the sides of his torso and sliding back, as she hugged him. 
As if on que Y/N stomach growled and she let out a small laugh. She pulled back, taking the bag from Bucky. “Thank you, I don't think I ate anything in the med bay when we got back.” She turned into the room, “Wanna come in?"
As Y/N walked back in, she flicked on a few lamps, creating a soft glow. Bucky closed the door behind him, unsure of what to do. Her desk was sitting just far away to be awkward but the only other place to sit would be her bed, somewhere he had never thought twice about before as he would just sit down or jump in. Now? He was acutely aware of his actions, and it created a ball of anxiety in the pit of his stomach.
“Bucky, you're welcome to sit on my bed.” Y/N noticed his hesitation.
He shrugged. “I didn't want to make you uncomfortable.” 
“You aren't” Y/N said as she pulled a plate down from a cabinet in her Kitchenette. 
Bucky paused for a moment before taking a deep breath, "What's going through your head?" Y/N stopped what she was doing, food forgotten as he continued. "Be honest."
Y/N turned, leaning against the counter, to face him. She crossed her arms as she took a moment to bring her words forward, "Did you mean what you said?" her question was soft and quiet. "Your queen." She blinked her gaze up to his.
Bucky let out a huff of a laugh, the corner of his mouth pulling up, “I remember the day you arrived at the compound.” He continued. “That morning Steve and I were set to leave to go on a recon mission. We were going back to the Siberian Hydra base; I hadn't been back since the airport incident. I was an absolute mess leading up to it.” Bucky looked down at his hands as he absentmindedly followed the lines and seams of his metal finger with this flesh. “I probably shouldn't have gone.” He paused again. “I had come so far, the words out of my head, a family around me and I had finally thought I found peace. Yet the moment I stepped back into that room, I looked upon that pit with that monstrosity of a machine still sitting there. I lost it. It instantly triggered a spiral of anger and I felt pushed right back down to my lowest existence.” Bucky kept his eyes trained on the floor. “Steve watched as I destroyed the machine, before helping me calm down. We got the answers we needed, well Steve got the answers we needed. When we got back, I was so far stuck in my head, but then I heard this laughter, it was light and contagious.” Bucky looked up at Y/N who was giving him her full attention. “Your laughter.”
“I followed that sound, until I saw you. Sitting at the counter, a smile on your face and I swear I had never seen anything more beautiful in my life. For the first time since I could remember I could feel this spark of a flame ignite inside of me.” Bucky continued. “This spark that created light and hope and feeling. It only grew. Day after day. It grew with your kindness and confidence. Your strength and your intelligence. That day you took Steve down, he played it off, but I knew that you had genuinely taken him by surprise, I could see it in his eyes. So, I let myself fall in love, I let that light grow into a raging blaze. Until I found myself trying to muster up the courage to tell you while simultaneously trying not to take you where you stood. Ask me again, ask me if I meant what I said.”
Tears were building up in Y/N’s eyes, “Did you mean it?”
"Every word." There was no hesitation in his response as he didn't look away. "I would worship every inch of your mind and body, if you'd let me."
The world began to fade away as Y/N's heart began to beat faster. Bucky's words swirled in her head as she tried to comprehend their meaning as if she couldn't believe them. Bucky sat patiently watching as Y/N slowly walked up to him. Her gaze uncertain, he could feel the tension in the air, as the line they both were hesitant to cross was quickly approaching.
Y/N tentatively stepped between his legs. She could feel the tug of war between her anxiety and adrenaline as she reached to touch his face. She moved her thumb across his jaw, Bucky could see her mind taking off.
He brought his hands up to rest on her hips, "Look at me." Y/N stood quiet for a moment as she took in his unwavering gaze. "What do you need?”
Y/N took a deep breath, "To be your queen.”
He gently pulled her closer. His lips pressed against hers, a tingling sensation ran through her body. Y/N felt Bucky’s hands gently slide down to the crook of her knees. He pulled her up onto his lap, sliding his hands over her thighs following the curve of her ass, before pulling her flush as he deepened the kiss. His lips moved against hers with a gentle urgency as they began to get lost in each other. In that moment, nothing else mattered - no worries or fears, no past or future. There was only the heat of the moment, the electricity between them.
Y/N let her fingers sink back into his hair, tugging slightly, as a low moan tumbled from Bucky’s mouth. “I need more.” Y/N said as Bucky kissed down to the nape of her neck.
He slid his hands up under the hem on her shirt, letting them slowly trail up her sides. Her chest heaved as his thumbs ghosted the underside of her breasts. 
She pulled herself off him, sliding herself back to stand between his legs again, slowly she pulled her shirt up and over her head. He reached up and pulled his own shirt over his head, discarding it. He leaned back, picking up his hips as he pulled his pants down, kicking them off. His length sprung up to full attention and Y/N’s eyes dilated. She stood back admiring Bucky, taking in his sheer size, she bit her lip as her core began to pulse. 
“Come here,” Bucky’s words pulled her in like a lure.
As she climbed back on his lap her hands came to the side of his face and pulled him into her lips. A breathy sigh of a moan escaped Y/N. She lifted herself up on her knees, pushing him slightly back to get to the right angle. She could feel his tip resting at her entrance.
Bucky nudged her nose with his, getting her to look at him. She held eye contact as she slowly slid down, feeling herself stretch around him until she bottomed out. A broken gasp fell from Y/N as the feeling of fullness made her body shutter, Bucky’s stomach twitched in response. She slowly began to roll her hips. His hands squeezed her thighs as he let out a swallowed moan. Her pace quickened until her hips began to fall out of rhythm as she desperately chased her release. 
"That's it sweetheart," His words of encouragement doused in an aroused tone. He felt her sides flutter. He could feel her pressing down on him. He kissed the edge of her jaw as his other hand cupped the back of her head before slowly sliding his lips down her neck. Grazing over her nipples. Another flutter. Her hand slid up into his hair and gently pulled him closer, pressing her nipple to his lips.  The way she took what she wanted made him feral. "Fuck" Bucky whispered. The sound was low and guttural, skittering over her skin like wildfire. 
With every heavy breath a moan escaped. With the last roll of her hips her orgasm exploded through her. Y/N's let out a choked moan as her knees clenched together on either side of Bucky. She felt his metal fingers splayed across her back and his flesh held onto her waist. 
Still fully seated, She let her head fall onto his shoulder as she attempted to catch her breath. Bucky pressed his lips to the other side of her neck before tipping her head back up to see her face. She felt like she was floating in euphoria.
"Feeling good?" Bucky's hand cradled her head. 
A smile spread on her face as she nodded into his hand. "I need more."
Bucky pulled her face to his, guiding her to his lips. Kissing her slowly as he reached his hands behind her, sliding them down her back. He began kissing down her neck and chest as she leaned back slightly. He sucked a nipple into his mouth, feeling Y/N pulse around his sheathed member. He let it fall from his mouth watching the soft skin bounce slightly before latching on again. Y/N squirmed, grinding down, desperate for any movement. 
Bucky gripped her hips and pressed her down further as he worshipped her chest. "James," His name came out as a broken whine. 
"Say that again." Bucky instructed, "Say my name."
"Ja-ahhhh-mes" He sucked her nipple again as she spoke. 
He smirked slightly as he slid his hands under her ass and stood up, Y/N held on as Bucky turned them around and dropped her on the bed. Y/N rubbed her thighs together from the loss of friction. Bucky watched for a moment before Y/N let her legs fall open. Splayed fully open for him, Bucky instantly crawled over, his breath against her sex making her shutter. His lips trailed kisses up her stomach. 
“How many nights have you imagined me like this?” A low chuckle came from Bucky, “Not just nights, and not just this.” He sucked her nipple between his teeth, making her gasp, before he soothed the shock away with his tongue. Y/N’s fingers ghosted over his hairline as she slid them back into his hair, he looked up at her and his eyes darkened as he sunk down and ran his tongue flat against her core. 
Her fingers curled, pulling his hair as her back arched off the bed. Electricity buzzed and exploded up over her body. His hands gripped her hips, keeping her from going too far.
Y/N fell further into bliss as Bucky explored her folds with his tongue. Soft moans spilled between her breaths. She gasped as he slowly inserted a finger, moving it in and out, then two, he felt her walls constrict as he slowly moved and curled his fingers. Y/N began to rock her hips against his face. His lips captured her clit sucking softly before pulling back, letting it fall from his lips. Y/N’s mouth fell open as the filthiest moan fell from her lips. 
He began rubbing his lips and tongue against her in a smooth pattern that felt like a love letter. Her hands gripped his, slipping back to his wrists as she writhed with him, completely letting him guide her over the edge. 
A choked moan came as Y/N’s legs squeezed Bucky’s head. She involuntarily curled up. Bucky wiped his mouth as he sat back on his knees, bringing his fingers up, sucking them clean.
He reached down and grasped her thighs, pulling them up and over his. He leaned back down, letting his hands slide up her torso, up and under her breasts, as his lips found hers once more. 
Y/N could feel his tip at her entrance, and it sent a shiver down her spine. 
She clung to his shoulders, nails dragging across his skin as he slowly pushed himself to his base. She felt the stretch as Bucky began to roll his hips, slowly dragging himself in and out. He began to pick up his pace, to read her body and follow her needs. Y/N hand snaked back around Bucky’s neck, as he sat back up on his knees, she clung to him as he continued his relentless pace. Y/N gripped onto the back of his neck with one hand as she found his knee with her other hand, propping herself up. There was no need however, as Bucky held her up, with his metal hand firmly on her ass and his flesh arm wrapped around the small of her back. He watched as her eyes rolled back into her head, his lips catch and dragged up her neck before sucking on her pulse.
Y/N’s body trembled as she fought to hold back, selfishly wanting more yet not knowing if she could take it. 
She felt her core wound as tight as it would go, unable to hold on to it any longer, she let go. Her body shuttered and Bucky could feel her orgasm pulse around him, squeeze him. He continued, fucking her through, dragging her out as far as he could. He was close and couldn't take it anymore. He let Y/N fall back onto the bed, as he pulled out and finished on her stomach. 
Their breathing was heavy as Bucky leaned over once more, bringing his hand up to Y/N face, her eyes glossed over in euphoria. “Are you okay?’
“Yeah,” She shook her head as she let out a sigh, “More than,”
A smile spread across Bucky’s face as he kissed her, “I am going to go get the shower ready for you, is that okay?”
Y/N Shook her head again before gently pressing her lips to his. “I need to lay here for a moment.”
“You just lay here and look pretty,” Bucky pulled himself off the bed.
Bucky walked into the bathroom, turning the water on to let it warm up. He quickly washed himself and cleaned up before setting up the bathroom for Y/N. He pulled a fresh towel out, placing it in the warmer next to the shower. A purchase that at first, he thought was ridiculous but has since rescinded that opinion. 
He heard Y/N soft pitter pats as she walked in, the steam beginning to form and build. “All set, towel is in the warmer.”
“Thank you,” Y/N said as she made her way to the shower.
“Don't be too long, your food will get cold.” Bucky kissed her forehead before he left Y/N to clean up as he went back out and continued to reheat the food, he had gotten for her. While the microwave hummed, he stripped the bed and stretched new sheets from corner to corner. Laid out the blankets and pulled them back slightly ready for Y/N to crawl in. 
He pulled down another plate for himself before playing up the food. Just as he finished cleaning up Y/N walked out. “Smells good.” She came up to Bucky’s side, wrapping a hand around his arm, leaning against his shoulder. “I am so hungry,” a laugh escaped Y/N, her head moved slightly as Bucky moved his arm. “Go eat, I’ll be right there with some water.”
“Thank you,” Y/N grabbed the plate and took a deep smell through her nose and smiled. “You really did get my favorite.” She said as she settled in on the bed and took a bite.
Bucky sat a cup of water down on her side table before crawling in to join her, “I know. I know all your favorites.”
“Oh?” Y/N asked as she took another bite. 
“And I have the rest of the night to figure out the ones I don't know.” A blush spread across Y/N’s cheeks. 
“I am looking forward to it.” She smiled as she glanced over at Bucky. “I could get use to this queen shit.”
“Oh, you just wait Doll,” Bucky replied. “I am just getting started.”
-End-
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sadnymi · 1 month
Text
「 ✦ Not One of your girls.✦ 」
[part1][Theodore Nott × reader] [p2]
Summary: Theodore Nott was the love of my life, the one I'd trade my whole world for. But this summer, I yearned for a different role in his life, even if it meant becoming just one of his girls
Warning:fluff, angst, smut, strong language.
Words:6.5k
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Tears? I don't think I had any left. It felt like I'd spent the past month in a self-imposed exile, navigating the city with a map etched into my memory solely to avoid him. Ignoring calls, dodging mutual friends. I'd become a ghost in my own life, flitting from corner to corner, hoping i won’t see him, anything to escape the phantom touch, the memory of his smirk.
Lana's call shattered the fragile peace I'd constructed. Her voice, usually bubbly with gossip, held a worried tremor. "Something's definitely wrong, (Y/N)," Lana had pressed over the phone, her voice laced with concern. "You sound… empty.”
I'd lied, of course. "Just the summer blues, Lani. Missing you like crazy."
"Uh-huh," she said, skepticism thick in her voice. "Well, guess what? I'm finally coming home! You gotta come get me from the airport, promise?"
"Of course," I said easily, even when the thought of the airport twisting the knife in my gut.
“Theo's picking me up, you wanna come with him ?"
"Actually," I hesitated, hating the way my voice betrayed me, "I was kind of thinking maybe I could… tag along with Chris?"
There was a beat of surprised silence, then a slow, knowing chuckle from Lana. "Whoa, okay, didn't see that coming. You sure you don't want me to ask Theo?"
The name sent a fresh spike of pain through me. "Theo? Absolutely not. Have you seen the way he drives?…" I trailed off, unable to voice the truth – anything but Theo.
A pang shot through me as I descended the stairs, catching sight of Mom lost in thought, staring at the picture of Theo, Mattheo, and my brother as kids. They were all smiles, dirt smudged on their faces, a testament to countless childhood adventures. A ghost of a smile touched my lips. "I miss him too," I whispered, reaching out to touch her shoulder.
Mom jumped slightly, startled from her reverie. Her eyes softened the moment they landed on me. "(Y/N)! Honey, I was just about to check on you. Your father and I were getting worried sick." She took my hand, her concern evident in the gentle squeeze.
"Just… thinking," I hedged, forcing a smile onto my face. The last thing I needed was to worry them. "Everything's fine."
Mom eyed me skeptically. "Are you sure? You haven't been yourself lately."
"Just hitting adulthood, finally," I joked, trying to lighten the mood. Mom chuckled, swatting my chest playfully.
"Dinner at the Nott family tonight, don't forget," she announced, and my smile faltered.
"Oh, no, Mom, I… I actually promised my book club I'd be there tonight," I stammered, desperately searching for an excuse. "And you know Lana's still at camp, I think you guys should go without me."
My mom's brow furrowed in confusion. "Book club? Since when? And Lana? Honey, is everything alright?"
The playful glint in her eyes betrayed her. "My little (Y/N) is finally done with her crush on the Nott boy?" she teased, a knowing smile playing on her lips.
My cheeks burned. Forced cheer felt hollow on my tongue. "Mom, stop it! I was a child."
Memories flooded back – seven-year-old me, a torrent of tears streaming down my face, demanding to know why I couldn't marry Theo. "Why can't you just ask Dad to talk to Mr. Nott and arrange something? We'll be perfect together!" I'd sobbed, clinging to her leg. Mom had knelt then, wiping away my tears, and promised she'd think about it when I grew up.
A soft sigh escaped her lips as she leaned down to kiss my cheek. "Alright, sweetie. I'll get your back tonight. Have fun at your book club."
The irony wasn't lost on me. Here I was, meticulously applying a full face of makeup and curling my hair into perfect waves for a nonexistent book club. My reflection in the mirror mocked me – glitter practically danced across my eyelids in the afternoon light, Crisscross Backless Ruched Glitter
Bodycon Dress a stark contrast to the sweatpants I'd worn all day.
But hey, desperate times called for desperate measures. My parents wouldn't question a night out if I looked the part, makeup a dead giveaway. It was a flimsy cover, but hopefully good enough.
Reaching for my lipstick holder, the answer was clear as day. Red. Classic, bold, unapologetic red. It was the perfect armor for the night – a stark reminder to myself that beneath the hurt, beneath the carefully constructed lie, I was still (Y/N). The same girl who knew what she wanted and wasn't afraid to go after it. Maybe Theo didn't see me that way anymore, but that didn't mean I had to lose myself entirely.
Tonight, I was reclaiming my power, one red lip at a time.
Three clicks of the shutter button later, and I deemed myself a goddess incarnate. The glitter shimmered under the lamplight, the perfect complement to the bold red lip. Caption time. A mischievous grin tugged at my lips.
> Now he's thinkin' bout me every night, oh Is it that sweet? I guess so
"Well, hello again, Instagram," I muttered, hitting post with a flourish. It took less than a minute for the validation to flood in.
> @BlaiseZabini: it's me I'm him.
> @LanaNott: girllll save me please save me.
> @MattheoRiddle: who !? C d ?
@EnzoBerkshire: is he why you dumped all of us for (planning a murder).
@christiannott: pretty.
The school crowd joined in the comments their comments a mix of compliments and playful questions. I couldn't help but grin at Blaise, Mattheo, and Enzo's antics.
Just as I settled on popcorn and a night of "The Devil Wears Prada" indulgence, my phone buzzed with a notification I wasn't expecting – a DM. My heart hammered against my ribs. It was from him.
> Theo (hopefully future husband): what kind of bookclub are you at?
I cringed at the outdated nickname in my phone (quickly changing it to "Theodore Nott").
Ignoring the actual question (because seriously?), I left him in read and hit play on the movie. Let him stew in his curiosity for a while.
But just as Meryl Streep was delivering a particularly scathing line, my phone buzzed again. A new message from Theodore Nott.
> theo: answer Y/N
The audacity of this man! I rolled my eyes, grabbed a handful of popcorn, and with a triumphant smirk, sent a single reply: A middle finger emoji .
A blaring ringtone ripped me from a dream .Groaning, I fumbled for my phone, squinting at the caller ID. Lana.
"Hello?" I mumbled, my voice thick with sleep.
"Girl, what the heck? I knew there was something you were hiding! You gonna tell me everything when I arrive?"
I flopped back against the pillows, belatedly registering the popcorn scattered on the duvet and the movie paused mid-scene. My mom must have tucked me in after I dozed off.
"Sure," I mumbled, still foggy and not entirely sure what there was to tell Lana anyway.
"I told Chris he'd wait for you at eight," she chirped.
Eight? Panic jolted me awake. I fumbled for the clock – it was already six.
"Why'd you wake me up now then?" I whined, sleep clinging to me desperately.
"First, how could you sleep when your best friend is finally coming home? Two, because you're taking forever to get ready!"
I rolled my eyes, fighting the urge to sink back into the blissful oblivion of sleep. "Fine, fine," I conceded.
A quick shower later, I threw on a pair of comfy shorts and a t-shirt. Kissing my dad, who'd made a valiant effort to whip up breakfast ("Scrambled eggs are your favorite, right?").
My phone buzzed. Theodore Nott. My heart hammered against my ribs in a frantic rhythm. I looked from the window – his car, sleek and black, was parked at the curb. No sign of Christian's Porsche.
"What the…" I breathed, a mix of anger and confusion swirling in my gut.
"I need to go, Papa," I mumbled, throwing him a quick kiss.
Reaching his car, I yanked open the door. "What are you doing here?" I spat, my voice laced with ice.
Theo didn't even glance at me. "Get in or go inside. I don't have time for this."
"Where's Chris?" I demanded, my jaw clenching.
He finally met my gaze, a flicker of annoyance crossing his features. "Business trip came up. Now get in."
There was no reasoning with him. With a silent snarl of frustration, I climbed into the passenger seat, slamming the door shut with enough force to make the fancy car wince. Not sure if Theo possessed human emotions, but I was pretty sure the love he had for his car was unquestionable.
"Great," he sighed, muttering a curse under his breath. It sounded suspiciously like "Accidenti!" – a mild Italian curse .
The rest of the ride was a tense standoff. I turned on the radio, defiant and childish, only for him to shut it off with a curt gesture. I shot him a fiery glare, then turned it back on, louder this time. The audacity of this man!
He cursed again, a string of angry Italian this time, but I drowned him out with the music, burying myself in my phone to avoid further interaction. The drive, thankfully, wasn't long and soon the familiar sight of the airport terminal loomed ahead.
Theo pulled into the airport garage, his face a mask of irritation. I flung open the door, slamming it shut for good measure. His glare was met with an equally icy stare from me. A quick glance at my watch told me it was 9:55 – hopefully Lana wouldn't make me wait too long. Anything was preferable to another minute in Theo's company.
Relief washed over me when I spotted her, a blur of pink and blonde hair bouncing through the arrivals gate. Her shriek echoed through the terminal as she launched herself at Theo, who caught her in a hug. They looked…comfortable. Happy.
"Look what I got you!" Lana exclaimed, pulling back and revealing a silver bracelet with a delicate Larus bird charm. It was beautiful. My gaze flickered to Theo, who offered a small smile.
"Do you like it?" she chirped, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.
"Of course," Theo replied, leaning down to kiss her forehead. "It's perfect."
Then she was on me, engulfing me in a suffocating hug and babbling a mile a minute in a language that sounded suspiciously like excited Italian. It took a moment to decipher her words.
"Look! I got us matching Larus bird bracelets!" she chirped, holding up another identical bracelet.
I smiled as I took it from her, sliding it onto my wrist. "Thanks, Lana. It's beautiful."
"So, you took good care of her for me, like I asked?" Lana's voice turned teasing, her eyes flitting between Theo and me.
Before Theo could even open his mouth, I shot him a withering look. "You have no idea," I muttered, my voice dripping with sarcasm.
Back in the car, Lana dominated the entire ride with a nonstop stream of chatter. I plastered a smile on my face and offered occasional nods, punctuated by the stolen glance at Theo in the rearview mirror.
Finally, we pulled into my driveway. Lana turned to me, bouncing with barely contained excitement. "Get some sleep, (Y/N)! We're all hitting the beach tonight – no excuses! We'll pick you up at ten, right Theo?"
My heart sank. Theo and I hadn't spoken a single word the entire ride, and the last thing I wanted was to spend another evening in his company.
"I—" I began, but Lana cut me off.
"No buts, (Y/N)! I'm serious," she said, her voice losing its playful edge. Her puppy-dog eyes were impossible to resist. Plus, the thought of disappointing her was unbearable.
With a forced smile, I nodded in agreement. "See you at ten," I mumbled, stepping out of the car I shut the car door with what I hoped was a significant bang (earning a "Hey!" from Theo and a giggle from Lana).
stormed up the steps and into my house. Reaching my room, I flung myself onto the bed and screamed into my pillow.
With a mission in mind, I flung open my dresser drawer. I pulled out the beach dress I'd bought with Mom, the one she'd teased me looked straight out of a goddess painting. "Playing Aphrodite?" she'd chuckled. Maybe a little Aphrodite action wouldn't hurt.
Packing was simple – a book for lounging, my makeup bag (waterproof mascara, a must!), sunscreen (just in case), and a water bottle. An extra layer? Nah, I was channeling beach goddess vibes today.
The pièce de résistance, however, was hidden beneath the dress – a hot pink bikini .
My phone buzzed on the nightstand – Lana calling. I swiped on another layer of lip gloss, the vibrant pink a perfect match for my mischievous mood.
Theo was already waiting by his car, a scowl etched on his face. I marched up to him, a mischievous glint in my eyes, and tossed the beach bag through the air. He caught it with a surprised grunt, his scowl deepening, a single word escaping my lips, "Catch."
A quick hug for Lana later, I slid into the backseat. Reaching for my phone, a notification from Marco, the cute Italian boy I'd met last year while visiting Italy , made me grin. He'd liked my recent post and even sent a DM.
"Hey, Lana," I began, tapping away at my phone, not taking my eyes off the screen as Theo threw the car into gear. "What does 'Mi sono perso nei tuoi occhi' mean?"
Lana's voice squeaked from the front seat. "Oh. My. God. He said… he said he's lost in your eyes! (Y/N), who on earth did you message?" Her voice rose in excitement, her body practically contorting as she tried to snatch a peek at my phone.
I playfully shoved her away as she tried to grab my phone for a closer look. "Stop it lan," I laughed, trying to mask the flutter in my stomach.
"Isn't a little soon to be moving on, (Y/N)?"
My jaw dropped, mirroring Lana's shocked expression in the rearview mirror. My eyes stung with a sudden wave of hurt. "What the actual—move on from what?" Lana sputtered, her voice a mix of outrage and disbelief.
"Can you mind your business, please?" I snapped at Theo, my voice tight with anger.
"Actually, it kind of is," he snapped back, his gaze fixed on the road ahead. "You're stuck with me for the entire day, remember?"
"Since when did you care about anything I did?"
The car swerved slightly as Theo tightened his grip on the wheel. "I care about you not getting hurt," he growled.
"Hurt? From a harmless compliment?" I spat. "Maybe you should worry more about the real hurt you caused, Theo."
Lana's voice cut through the tension, sharp and laced with genuine concern. "What? What do you mean, (Y/N)? What hurt did he cause?"
"I—" I started, the words catching in my throat."I didn't mean myself," the lie tasting bitter on my tongue.
He looked at me then, his gaze flickering to the tears welling up in my eyes.
I couldn't take it anymore. I grabbed my AirPods, the familiar comfort a lifeline in the storm. Cranking the volume to full blast, I shut out the world, focusing on the music that pulsed in my ears. I stared out the window, the world blurring into a watercolor mess.
The car jolted to a stop, and I practically leaped out before it even came to a complete halt. Grabbing my bag, I stormed towards the beach, the setting sun painting the sky in fiery hues. The familiar sight of the carnival near the shore grounded me slightly.
Enzo, was the first to spot me. He erupted in a whoop, and I practically dived into his welcoming embrace. The rest of the group soon followed, a cacophony of greetings washing over me.
Blaise, ambled towards me, a sheepish grin plastered on his face. I promptly blocked him with a hand on his chest. "You, Blaise, are officially banned from my life for at least another month."
"Come on, (Y/N)! I already took enough abuse on my beautiful face that night from that..." he trailed off, his eyes flicking towards Theo.
"Not a word," I hissed, cutting him off before he could spill the beans. "Don't you dare say a thing about it, or you're dead, Blaise. I swear."
A flicker of surprise crossed his face, quickly replaced by a resigned nod. "Alright, alright, secrets are safe with me." He slunk away, plopping down on the sand beside Enzo.
Across from me, Theo sat his gaze boring into me with an intensity that sent shivers down my spine. He kept staring,His gaze was intense, burning into mine like he could see right through me, so I used the tried and true method – a good old-fashioned middle finger.
He met my gesture with a head shake, a hint of a smile playing on his lips as he lit a cigarette.
The sounds of laughter and chatter filled the air as our friends settled in for the evening. Inside, I felt a storm brewing – a mix of anger, hurt, and a strange, unidentifiable longing.
"Alright, guys! Who's up for truth or dare?" Lana's voice boomed, shattering the fragile peace.
"Childish," Mattheo scoffed.
"Pleeeease?" Lana pleaded, batting her eyelashes at him. He caved with a sigh, a lovesick smile playing on his lips.
"Actually, I have a bottle," I announced, reaching into my bag and pulling out my water bottle.
"Always prepared, sweet (Y/N)," Draco teased, blowing me a kiss. I countered with a playful air kiss.
"Not playing," Theo mumbled, blowing another smoke ring into the air.
"Coward," I whispered, not sure if he heard me. But apparently, he did.
"What did you say?" he challenged, his gaze hardening.
"Coward," I repeated, my voice gaining strength with each iteration. "Coward, coward, coward." I batted my eyelashes with a saccharine smile. "Want me to say it louder?"
"Okay, enough," Mattheo interjected, shooting a warning look at both of us. "You're playing, and you're going to stop."
Enzo, grabbed the bottle from me. "Let's get this party started, then! Spin it!"
The bottle wobbled and spun, finally landing on Lana with a triumphant thud.
"Truth or dare?" Enzo grinned.
"Dare!" she declared, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
"I dare you to reveal one of (Y/N)'s secrets," he challenged, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
Lana's jaw dropped.
"It's okay, Lani," I mumbled, "Choose whatever you want, babe. No secrets here."
"Holy moly, you're not scared?" Blaise exclaimed, his eyebrows raised in surprise.
"I don't regret anything I do," I declared, holding Theo's gaze. "If it was a secret, it means I didn't want it out there enough. So, not worth keeping."
My defiance sent a smirk across my face, but inside, I was a mess. Theo muttered a barely audible curse under his breath.
Lana, ever the drama queen, paused for effect. "Well, you definitely have a thing for Italian! You might not have said it, but I just know..." she leaned in conspiratorially, "...saying one simple phrase in Italian would have you blushing like crazy, thinking it's a marriage proposal."
A roar of laughter erupted from the group, even Theo cracking a small smile.
"Buongiorno, bella," Blaise cooed in his best Italian accent, earning another round of laughter and a playful shove from me.
We continued playing truth or dare, the mood a strange mix of tension and laughter. The bottle finally landed on Blaise, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
He leaned in, his voice barely a whisper, "Remember our little agreement, (Y/N)?" I pursed my lips, silently mouthing, "Don't cross the line." He winked, then addressed me in a louder voice, "Truth or dare?"
"Dare," I declared, a defiant edge to my voice.
"I dare you to take your dress off " he started, his voice trailing off dramatically.
A collective groan went up, except for Mattheo who smirked, and Enzo who playfully swatted Blaise's shoulder.
"What are you? a ten years old? You think I'd run away crying?" I challenged, a spark of defiance igniting within me. In one swift motion, I slipped out of the flowy beach dress, revealing the hot pink bikini underneath.
A low whistle escaped Blaise's lips. "Damn, girl! No wonder poor Cedric stood no chance. You could've driven him crazy with that bod."
I winked at him, relishing the surprised look on Lana's face. "Something to consider," I joked, trying to mask the storm of emotions brewing inside.
Theo, however, seemed less amused. "For f*ck's sake," he muttered under his breath, his voice laced with a hint of something I couldn't decipher.
Blaise smirked. "What's wrong, Theo? Can't handle the heat?"
For a second, I thought Theo was going to kill him. He clenched his jaw, his gaze burning into Blaise. "Just finish this stupid game already," he growled.
The tension was thick enough to choke on, and I decided to take back control. I snatched the bottle, spinning it with a flick of my wrist. As if mocking me, it landed squarely on Theo.
"Truth or dare?" I asked, my voice steady despite the tremor in my heart. Meeting his gaze was like looking into a stormy sea – the pain, confusion, and maybe even a flicker of longing swirling within.
"Truth," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Do you regret anything… right now?" Each word felt like a shard of glass in my throat, but I forced them out.
He held my gaze for an agonizing moment, then let out a ragged breath. "No," he finally said.
The answer hit me like a physical blow. It was the confirmation of what I'd already suspected, yet it still managed to shatter the fragile hope that had flickered within me.
We played two more rounds, the air heavy with unspoken words. Lana, seemingly oblivious to the tension, had dozed off, her head resting on my lap.
"I'm taking her to bed," Theo announced, bending down to scoop her up gently.
The sunrise was painting the sky in vibrant hues of orange and pink, casting long shadows on the beach. I closed my eyes, needing an escape from the whirlwind of emotions. "Going for a swim," I mumbled, a hollow ache settling in my chest.
Without waiting for a response, I raced towards the water, the cool waves washing over me as I plunged into the ocean. The salty water stung my eyes, but I didn't bother to brush it away. Here, in the vastness of the ocean, I could finally let go of the facade of bravado and let the tears flow freely.
I swam until my muscles screamed in protest. Exhausted but strangely calm, I watched as the others retreated to the house, leaving me alone with the sound of the waves crashing against the shore. Pushing the wet hair out of my face, I waded back to the beach, shivering as the cool morning air hit my damp skin.
Walking towards the back of the house, the first rays of sunlight warmed my back. I turned a corner, and just like that, I slammed into a solid wall of muscle. It was Theo.
I stumbled back, heart hammering against my ribs. "What are you doing here?" I snapped, the anger a shield against the vulnerability I refused to show.
"Enough, (Y/N). Stop this foolish game," he said, his voice low and intense.
"Foolish game? Don't you dare call my life a game, Theo," I spat, fury bubbling up inside me.
He stepped closer, his hand reaching out to grab my waist. Before I could react, he'd captured both my wrists in one of his large hands. He was close, so close I could feel the heat radiating off his body, his cologne a familiar scent that sent a shiver down my spine.
My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs, caught between the fear of getting hurt again and the undeniable pull I felt towards him.
"That?" he said, his voice laced with frustration as his gaze flickered down to the pink bikini clinging to my curves. "Is this what you're doing? Whoring yourself out?"
A bitter laugh escaped my lips. "Whoring myself out?" I mocked him. "Why do you even care, Theo? You made it perfectly clear you don't give a damn what I do, who I'm with, how I act."
He looked at me, his jaw clenched tight. "You will go inside," he said, his voice a low growl. "You will stop whatever you are doing, and you will not… whore yourself out like that again. Understood?"
The possessiveness in his voice, the way his gaze lingered on my body, sent a jolt through me. But I wouldn't let him control me.
I yanked my hands free, taking a step back. "You have no right to tell me what to do."
His eyes narrowed, but then he shifted his gaze, and for a fleeting moment, it landed on my lips. My breath hitched, my body reacting instinctively to his silent scrutiny.
He cleared his throat, the tension in the air crackling like electricity. "Y/N," he warned, his voice a husky whisper.
Then, before I could even process what was happening, he leaned in.
A mischievous grin spread across my face. "Were you watching me swim?" I asked, tilting my head up to meet his gaze.
He didn't answer, his jaw clenched tight. But something in his eyes, a flicker of heat, betrayed him.
"Just making sure you didn't drown," he finally muttered, his voice gruff.
I couldn't help myself. I burst out laughing. "So that's why you're so… hard right now?" I teased, my voice dripping with playful innocence.
He glared at me, but there was a hint of something else in his eyes.”No,”.
I could feel the tension between us, thick and palpable. Theo's breathing was ragged, his words barely coherent as I teased him, my hand brushing over his stomach under his t-shirt.
"Are you sure?" I whispered, fluttering my lashes at him with a practiced innocence.
"Yeah," he managed to force out, his voice rough and unsteady. I saw his Adam's apple bob with a swallow as my hand grazed lower, sending a jolt through him.“Fuck y/n”
A smirk played on my lips as I traced a finger along his jawline. "Is that what you say when you… touch yourself?" I teased, my voice dripping with a sweetness that seemed foreign on my tongue. "Do you think of me?"
He looked at me, his gaze intense, his reply barely a gasp. "No."
"No?" I feigned surprise, leaning in closer. "So, you don't want me to help you now?" I purred, my voice dropping to a seductive murmur. "You don't want me to…" I trailed off.
"Get on my knees, right here, right now?" I finished suggestively.
He didn't respond, his breathing ragged and shallow. I pressed on, my voice dropping to a husky whisper. "I would let you," I breathed,"I would let you take me right here, right now. You could do whatever you wanted to me, anything at all."``
"Would you want me to do that?" I whispered, feeling his hand grip the wall for support.
I grabbed his hand and put on the heat between my thighs. A sharp gasp escaped my lips as his fingers grazed me, sending a jolt of electricity through my body. "See, I'm so wet already," I breathed, he leaned down, urgency in his kiss. I met him halfway, the taste of him both familiar and forbidden.
We broke apart, gasping for air. Before his lips could find mine again, I distracted him, freeing one hand and guiding his face towards the sensitive skin of my neck. His lips and tongue danced across the exposed flesh, sending shivers down my spine.
With his hair caught in my hand, I pulled his head back, then sank to my knees in front of him. Looking up at him, I whispered, "Can I, please?"
"Fuck," he muttered, nodding reluctantly.
I unbuttoned his jeans, looking up at him as I lowered his boxers. "You're so hard, Theo," I remarked, meeting his gaze. "It must be painful, isn't it?"
As I took him in, I continued in a feigned innocence, "You know, I've never done this before, Theo. Never been on my knees like this for someone before."
"But I'll do it for you," I whispered, locking eyes with him. "Because I'll do anything for you, even if you hurt me. I don't care."
I wrapped my lips around the head of his cock, feeling him twitch in response. He cursed, and I pulled away, planting soft kisses along his length. "So, you didn’t think of me doing that when you masturbate?" I asked, my voice teasing.
"I did—fuck, I did, and I hated myself for that," he confessed, his voice strained with desire.
I started to slide my mouth down his shaft, tasting the salty precum that had already leaked out. He moaned, his hands tangling in my hair as I took him deeper, swirling my tongue around him.
"Oh, fuck,", his praise spurring me on. "That feels so good, baby. You're so good at this."
I started to move my head up and down, taking him deeper with each stroke. I could feel him getting harder in my mouth, and I knew he was enjoying this.
"Yes, just like that," Theo said, his voice strained.
I started to suck harder, using my tongue to tease the sensitive skin of his cock. I could feel him getting closer to the edge, and I knew I had to keep going.
I wrapped my hand around the base of his cock, my fingers gripping him tightly as I began to move my head back and forth. I took him deeper, feeling his cock hit the back of my throat. I could feel him pulsing in my mouth, and I knew he was about to cum.
"Fuck, I'm gonna cum," he groaned, his grip in my hair tightening.
I continued, sucking harder and faster, bringing him to the edge. But just as he was about to release, I pulled away abruptly.
"What —what the fuck?"
I stood up, pushing my hair back with a smirk. "So, you believed that?" I asked, seeing the confusion and frustration in his eyes.
"Believed what?" he asked, breathing heavily and clearly confused.
"That night, did you actually believe what I said?" I taunted, tracing his face lightly with my fingertips. "I just said what I had to get what I wanted, Theo. And it worked. I had you. It was… fun."
I continued, reveling in the power shift, "so actually you were one of my boys, all wrapped around my finger."
"I would pull my jeans up if I were you," I advised with a finality that hung heavy in the air.
Every word that tumbled out of my mouth was a lie, a carefully woven tapestry of deceit designed to inflict the same searing pain I felt. I wanted him to see himself reflected in the cruel mirror of my words, to understand the depth of the wound he'd left gaping in my heart.
I turned away, heading back to the house and eventually to the shared room with Lana. Once in the bathroom, I started the shower and sank to the ground, my legs giving out beneath me, as I let out a sob that wracked my entire body. The pain of his rejection, the guilt of my actions, the hurt of my unrequited love – it all came crashing down upon me in a wave of despair.
The drive home was a suffocating silence, punctuated only by the rhythmic hum of the engine. I'd fabricated a story about catching the flu, needing to rest. The lietasted acrid on my tongue, but facing Lana, facing anyone, felt impossible.
Back in my room, the familiar walls seemed to close in on me. I sank onto the bed, burying myself in the covers. Theo's calls came one after another, his texts a constant reminder of the conversation left hanging. "We need to talk," they pleaded, each message a fresh wave of guilt crashing over me.
The sting of betrayal still lingered, but today, I craved solace. Seeking refuge in a familiar spot, I found myself nestled amongst the vibrant blooms near the bridge. Here, the gentle murmur of the water and the sweet scent of flowers offered a temporary escape.
Time seemed to blur as I sat there, lost in thought. Then, a shadow fell across me. Startled, I looked up to find Theo's hesitant gaze. Surprise momentarily rendered me speechless.
"Can I sit?" he asked, his voice laced with a vulnerability I hadn't seen before. A silent nod was all I could manage.
He lowered himself beside me, leaning back against the tree trunk. The silence between us was thick, heavy with unspoken emotions. My gaze drifted across the field, a silent plea for him to break the tension.
"The night before it happened…" he began, his voice thick with emotion, "I promised your brother I'd take care of you."
My head snapped towards him, surprise etching across my face.
"I promised," he continued, meeting my gaze. "That's why I tried so hard to push you away. I couldn't bear the thought of anything happening to you, of failing him."
A wave of guilt washed over me. "Theo…" I began, but he cut me off, his hand reaching out to clasp mine.
"It didn't work, though, did it?" he said, a wry smile playing on his lips. "I told myself I should only see you as a sister, but I couldn't. And that scared me. So I tried to push you away, as much as it hurt me"
"it did hurt me too y/n," he admitted. "The moment you kissed me…everything changed. I didn’t know you felt the same. It, and it scared me. I needed to regain control."
A lump formed in my throat as he revealed his turmoil. "Then the kiss," he continued, his voice barely a rasp. "Everything changed. I didn't know you felt that way, and I panicked. Tried to regain control."
A tear escaped, tracing a glistening path down my cheek. "When Blaise brought you in... this night" he continued, his eyes searching mine, "I was a wreck. I felt like I'd betrayed your brother, tainted something so pure."
"What I did after, it was unfair. Unforgivable. You're not just another girl, Y/N. You're the only one. The only one I want. And even if it takes a lifetime to make things right, I will. Because I love you. I can't hide it anymore."
Tears welled up in my eyes, threatening to spill over. "I didn't mean anything I said at the beach," I confessed. "I just... I wanted to hurt you like you hurt me."
He reached out, his hand gently cupping my face. "We messed up," i said, "We hurt each other."
Tears escaped, tracing warm paths down my cheeks. "But maybe we can fix it," I whispered, a sliver of hope flickering within me.
He brushed away my tears, his touch so soft . "I deserve the pain," he say,"But you don't. I'm so sorry, Y/N. So sorry for everything."
A bittersweet smile spread across my face. "I love you too," I confessed, the words tumbling out like a long-held secret. It felt surreal, a dream come true whispered on the wind.
He leaned in slowly, his lips brushing mine in a soft, tentative kiss. It was a perfect collision of emotions – tenderness, passion, and a promise of a new beginning. He deepened the kiss, pulling me onto his lap, our bodies aligning perfectly.
When he pulled away, his eyes sparkled with an intensity that sent a jolt through me. "Give me a chance," he pleaded. "To make things right. I'll never hurt you again. I don't deserve forgiveness, but I'm begging for it. Please, let me make it up to you."
"I forgave you already," I admitted, "but can you say it again? Just to be sure I didn't imagine it."
A smile, genuine and heartfelt, softened his features. He leaned back in, his lips whispering the words against mine, "I love you, Y/N L/N."
My heart soared. "I think I might die happy right now," I joked, trying to lighten the mood.
Suddenly, a nagging thought surfaced. "But what about Lana? We need to tell her."
Theo's smile faltered for a moment. "Believe me, she knows," he said with a sigh. "Apparently, she's celebrating you being her 'sister' and even thanked me for it."
I couldn't help but laugh. It sounded like something Lana would do. "Of course, that sounds like her,"
Suddenly, a playful glint sparked in his eyes. "Now," he drawled, a hint of jealousy lacing his voice, "about that Italian boy?"
I couldn't help but burst into laughter. Leaning in, I wrapped my arms around him, burying my face in his chest. "There's nothing to worry about," I mumbled against his shirt.
He chuckled, the sound vibrating through me. "Good," he said, his arms tightening around me in a possessive hug. "Because I was planning a little trip to Italy."
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
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too-much-tma-stuff · 1 month
Text
I don't trust the world with you
I wrote this on my phone while I was at work so there's probably a ton of errors. It's not a particularly original piece, my take on deep cover Danny working for Red Hood and offering Jason the chance to take out his rage on Danny.
Viewer advisory: Mentions of sex but no descriptions, descriptions of violence.
----
Red Hood was furious, he was furious and there was fuck all he could do about it! He had been on a hunt when the piece of shit had decided he'd rather take his own life them give Jason the pleasure, leaving the pit madness swirling in his guts with no release. He wanted Blood, he wanted screams, he hated it and he had no other prospects. And no matter how much of a villain he was he wasn't going to take this out on anyone who didn't deserve it, including or especially the people who worked for him.
Best he could do right now was lock himself in his office and pace, snarling furiously and making aborted little motions with his hands as he held himself back from breaking anything.
"Wow boss, you're really pissed aren't you?" A familiar voice said conversationally. Before Red Hood processed he had drawn his gun and had it leveled at Fox, who did not flinch, grinning at him with his unusually sharp teeth.
Fox had worked for Red Hood for longer then just about anyone, Hood had picked him up half on a whim. With his green-blue eyes and his hair, black on top and white underneath it was like looking in a mirror, a younger version of himself. Fox was good, strong for his size and resourceful, with his filed teeth and odd demeanor he must have had a History but he never spoke about it.
"Fox! How did you get in here?! Get out," Jason demanded in a snarl.
Fox didn't move for a moment, then he stepped forward, his eyes calm and resolute and a small.smile still on his face. "It's okay. There's more to do and you're useless like this. You need to hit something? Hurt something, hit me." He said calmly and Hood balked.
"No! You've seen me-"
Fox had seen Hood at his worst, he knew how violent Hood could be, how could he offer-? But then Fox darted forward and grabbed q knife from Hoods belt. Hood tensed, ready to defend himself but then Fox turned towards Jason's desk, slammed his hand down on the wood and then stabbed the blade through his own hand.
Jason gave a startled yelp but Fox didn't make a sound, his teeth gritted as he pulled the knife out. He turned back towards Hood, holding out his bleeding hand only for it to heal in moment under Jason's shocked gaze. Fox smiled at him and offered the knife, handle first, back to Hood who took it on autopilot.
"No matter what you do to me I'll heal, and it won't be the worst pain I've been through. So, Boss," he said hopping up on the desk and sitting there staring at Jason daringly. "Hurt me."
It was a mad impulse that had Jason driving the knife down into Fox's leg. Fox arched and let out a pained little whine that soothed the beast in Jason even as he froze with shock and regret. He pulled out the knife, leaving Fox breathing heavily. When Hood tried to pull back Fox grabbed the collar of his jacket and yanked him back.
"I know you're not done, that's not enough for you. Keep going." He nearly snarled, his eyes more green then usual.
He wasn't wrong but Jason didn't want to hurt him, but being handed handled like that triggered Jason's fight reflex again. He cut Fox's arm making him yelp, but not let go. Jason pressed the knife into Fox's shoulder until he let go.
The smell of blood was filling his nose and his vision was tinged green around the edges. Fox collapsed back against the desk and Jason cut the young man's stomach with barely enough presence of mind to not go to deep. Each cut drew small sounds of pain from Fox but none loud enough to be heard from outside Jason’s office and all healed in moments leaving only a bit of blood on Fox's clothes and Jason's knife.
Finally the green retreated from Jason's vision and Fox was no longer just flesh capable of feeling and bleeding and became his loyal employee again. Sprawled on the desk, clothes and hair mussed, eyes half lidded and breathing heavily. He looked beautiful, and under different circumstances it would have been so... erotic, but now Jason just felt like a complete monster.
"Fox, I'm so sorry," Hood practically groaned, offering Fox his hand. Fox took it but didn't get up yet. "I'm so sorry, I should have,"
"No," Fox murmured giving Hood a small reassuring smile. "I told you to. You feel better don't you?"
Jason froze, because yes he did. "Is there anything I can do to... help?"
"Kiss it better," Fox said with a crooked little smile, he seemed almost high. Jason choked and Fox laughed. "No, just stay, hold me if you don't mind. I'll be fine in a minute."
Jason nodded and pulled Fox into his arms, holding him, hesitating for a moment before combing his fingers through Fox's hair. They were quiet as Fox's breath evened out again.
"I didn't know you were a meta," Jason murmured and Fox twitched, tensing for q moment and then relaxing again.
"I was trafficked when I was pretty young, I've kept it on the down low as much as I can since then. I don't want anyone to know, but I trust you Boss," Fox said giving him a little smile. Oh man that sweet trust made his heart flutter in a way he really Shouldn't be feeling for a man he's just basically tortured.
"I won't tell anyone, and I won't take advantage of it." Jason promised softly, Fox was a good worker and Jason wasn't going to lose him.
"Alright," Fox said, giving him another smile and pushing himself back. "But if this happens again and you need to hurt someone, call me okay? I make a good punching bag," he said with a bitter little curl to his lips.
"I'm... really not sure I want to do that," Jason said worriedly and Fox shrugged.
"Alright then I'll just break in here again next time. Now get back to work Boss," he joked as he walked over to the door and unlocked it to leave.
"Wait if it was still locked how did you get in here?!" Hood demanded suddenly.
"Byeee," Fox cackled as he dashed out the door leaving Jason confused, but not as upset as he would have been had it been anyone else who'd managed that. Fox could probably be trusted with keys at this point, even if he apparently didn't need them.
--------
Jason managed to control himself properly for another month but then things went wrong again. Not another misplaced hunt but a confrontation with Bruce about how Everyone deserves to live and other bullshit! It had him furious with no easy outlet and pacing in his office again. He has passed Fox on his way here, hesitated, then continued. He would Not ask.
He didn't need to, it was less then ten minutes before he turned again and Fox was there. He was sympathetic and worried, last time he'd been there for the last time, this time he didn't know why Red Hood was angry, though that didn't stop him from approaching, he kept his posture low, submissive but unafraid and for some reason Jason completely Hated it.
He grabbed Fox by the front of his shirt and slammed him against the wall forcing his breath out in a wheeze. Fox covered Hoods closed hands with his own, staring back at him with a serious expression.
"Stop this! You're worth more then being a punching bag, I don't care if you've been through worse it doesn't make it okay for me to hurt you," he snarled in Fox's face practically lifting him off the ground.
"That's sweet, Boss," Fox wheezed, unable to breath properly with Jason bearing down on him. "But you need this, and I'm not leaving till your calm. If you think you can calm down by talking about your feelings we can go with that," he said with a sharp and crooked smile. He knew Hood well enough to know that wasn't enough.
"You self sacrificing piece of shit," Jason nearly yelled, pulling Fox forward and slamming him against the wall again before punching Fox in the face. Fox let him, barely flinched away and didn't fight back as Jason hit him. Bruises bloomed and faded on Fox's skin almost instantly and the stupid man didn't even shield his face. His nose crunched and his head snapped back against the wall, he let out a slight gurgle, the blood on gloves and Jason recoiled in shock at his own actions.
He let go and Fox slid down the wall till he was sitting, he set his nose with a grimace and shook his head. He held up his hand and coughed up a bit of blood that must have flown down the back of his throat. "You done Boss?" He asked with another soft cough.
One lost flare of anger shot through Jason and he kicked Fox in the side making him yelp and fall back against the wall again. "Okay, now I'm done," Jason sighed, slumping back against the wall and sliding down to sit next to Fox who was looking at him a little warily now, even as he leaned closer. Jason sighed and lifted his arm, hating himself and loving it as Fox brightened and ducked under his arm, leaning against his chest.
"What upset you?" Fox asked softly.
Jason twitched he knew Fox meant well so, after a moment, he answered. "It's a long story, but the short version is family bullshit. Something really bad happened to me a few years ago, and my dad just... let it happen, didn't avenge me, nothing. He's still dragging his feet and acting like I'm a villain for wanting some justice," he sighed, moving like he was going to run a hand through his hair only to remember he was still wearing his helmet.
"I get that, it's part of the reason I never went back to my family after everything that had happened to me," Fox agreed softly.
"You know I go after traffickers all the time. If the people who hurt you are still out there..." he trailed off, the suggestion hanging in the air.
"Trust me," Fox said with a humorless laugh, "that's not something you can help me with."
"If you can trust me with it, I'd like to help you," Jason said, brushing Fox's bangs out of his face.
"I trust you with everything Hood, but I don't trust the world at all, not with me, or with you really. But... my real name is Danny, I left it behind a long time ago, but that's my name." Fox, no Danny, said softly. Proof of his trust.
"Thanks Danny, just between us huh?" Jason agreed, wishing he could trust Danny with his name in turn, but he wasn’t rest to.
"It feels good to be called that again," Danny murmured nuzzling into Jason's armored chest as if there was no where else he'd rather be.
---------
Danny just kept coming back, and Jason shouldn't have been shocked when the fifth time ended in them fucking. It was a much more pleasant way to work out Jason's anger and after that he was much more willing to call Danny for help. Even to meet Jason at one of his safe houses, this time wearing a domino mask instead of his full helmet.
When Danny arrived at the safe house he immediately kicked off his shoes and darted into Jason's arms, looking up at him with wide eyes. "We match," he said with a grin, tugging on the little lock of white hair in Jason's bangs. Jason laughed and nodded, tugging Danny towards the bedroom.
"Yep, it was one of the first things I noticed about you. It made me wonder if..." he trailed off.
"If," Danny prompted softly.
"Easier to talk about after, once I'm calm," Jason said, shoving Danny down on the bed. Thankfully Danny liked it rough, or it probably wouldn’t have worked.
A couple hours later they lay in bed together, Danny absently tracing a few of the scars on Jason’s chest. Danny still had his shirt on and Jason hadn't argued, if Jason was keeping his mask on Danny could keep his shirt on. "So, it made you wonder if...?" Danny prompted and Jason winced, he sort of hoped Danny would forget.
"It made me wonder if you died too," Jason said softly and nearly jumped at the way Danny flinched and then gave a nearly full body shudder. He sat up and stared down at Jason with wide eyes.
"I did," Danny said softly and Jason froze.
"What?" He croaked softly.
"I did, I died when I was 14. I was electrocuted," he pulled up one sleeve of his shirt to show the branching scar.
"I was 15, got murdered," Jason said, feeling a familiar burning pain, he wondered if Danny felt it to.
Danny shuddered and lay down against Jason's chest again. "I thought you might be like me too, I felt it when we first met, but the way you act and... some other stuff, I sort of talked myself out of it." Danny said and Jason nodded.
They were quiet for a long time, but there was tension in Danny's back that said he wasn't done. "It wasn't actually traffickers that hurt me," Danny said softly. "It was the government. A branch called the Ghost Investigation Ward, a exception was carved out of the meta protection act for people like me, like us. The government wanted to find out how I came back, how powerful I was, everything. They did a lot of awful shit.
"I destroyed that base when I escaped but I know there could have been more so I ran. Changed my name with every new town and never stayed anywhere more then a few months, until I met you." He looked up at Jason with such utter trust and adoration Jason's breath caught in his throat.
"You made me feel safe, and wanted. I always wanted to help people and you gave me a way I could and still be safe, and keep you safe in case you were like me. I don't have much of a life, still hiding like this, but I have more of one then I thought I would and Red Hood, you know I'd do anything for you right?"
"You've proved that many times over," Jason murmured caressing Danny's jaw. "And it's Jason, my name is Jason."
"Jason," Danny murmured reverently.
"So, how does dismantling a government organization as a first proper date," Jason asked and Danny laughed. It wasn’t bitter, or dry, it was a true, loud, joyful laugh and it was the most beautiful thing Jason has ever heard.
Part 2
Masterpost
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sturniolo-simp4life · 4 months
Text
Hoodie- Matt Sturniolo
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Paring- y/n and Matt Sturniolo 
Summary- You and matt get into a heated argument, leaving you to sulk over a hoodie Matt left at your house. 
Warnings- Angst and some (minor) swearing. fluff at the end. 
“Matt, I’m tired of you avoiding me!” you yelled across the room, where he was standing.
For the past 2 weeks, Matt had been avoiding you. Whenever you tried to make plans, like for dinner, he would always wiggle his way out of it.
He never wanted to go out with you and had been distant lately. 
“I’ve been busy y/n. I thought you, out of all people, I thought you would understand that.” He had a very annoyed look on his face, like he was pissed.
“I understand that, but even the days you aren’t doing anything, you still avoid me!” Your voice broke at the last part, and you were fighting tears at this point. 
“Well, I thought you would be more fucking supportive, but I guess not.” His words stabbed you like a knife, right in your gut. Tears filled your eyes.
“Well ok, if that’s how you feel.” Your voice broke as a tear slipped down your cheek. Matt instantly regretted what he said.
“Wait y/n-” “Um... I'm going to leave.” You spoke, and you rushed out the door. 
______-----_____------_____------_____-----_____ 
It had been about 3 days since you had talked to Matt. You were currently lying on your bed, with Matt’s hoodie around you.
His scent was still faint there, the smell of cheap cologne and sweat. You engulfed yourself in it; it reminded you of him. 
Flashback 
You and Matt were watching a movie, your legs entangled in his. “Hey, is that my hoodie your wearing?” It was a y/f/c (your favorite color) hoodie. “Yeah,” you replied.  
“This is my favorite one you own, and it’s really comfy.” You blushed as you adjusted it on yourself.
He just smiled at you. “You can keep it if you want.” You looked at him. “Really?” 
“Yeah. I have plenty of other hoodies, and you look cute wearing this one.” You blushed at his words, and you gave him a peck on his lips. 
Tears were now flowing down your cheeks, making the hoodie wet. You wiped your tears, and your phone buzzed.  
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You heard your ring tone and the buzz of your phone. Matt was calling you. 
“Hey.”  
“Hi.” 
There was silence for a few seconds.  
“Umm... I... I wanted to apologize. I didn’t realize I was hurting you. I know I’ve been busy, but I should have talked to you.
I guess I was just frustrated with work and everything. Anyways, I’m... I’m sorry.” 
“It’s okay. I should apologize too. I mean, I should have understood, but I guess I was upset.” There was another pause. “Can I come over tomorrow?” 
“Sure.” 
_____-----_____-----_____-----_____-----_____----- 
You and Matt were now wrapped in a giant blanket, legs entangled. You were wearing the same hoodie, the one he gave you. 
“Is that my hoodie?” he asked. “Yeah.” You blushed as you looked down at the hoodie, quite oversized on your body. “I can’t believe you kept it after all this time.”  
“Matt,” you whispered. “Hmm?” He looked down at you. “I love you.” You could see a visible blush form on his cheeks.
“I love you too.” You smiled as he gave you kisses on your cheeks, and pecks on your lips. 
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starry-bi-sky · 5 months
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fast food is the best course of action after causing a scene. ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀɴʏᴀʟ ᴀʟ ɢʜᴜʟ ᴀᴜ
(First Post Here and Second Post Here
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Danny finds Sam easily.
She's right where she said she was over the phone: standing outside on a balcony, in Gotham, at Father's many charity functions. 
("Would you still be willing to fly over to Gotham, Danny?" She asks, her voice ringing clear through the speakers. Danny is already climbing out his window before she even finishes her sentence. He was just about to settle down for the night, his ghosts would know better by now than to disturb him at this time. The Box Ghost not included.)
("Of course." He says, sounding more confident than he feels. Sam was one of his best— closest friends, he would do anything she or Tucker asked. Even if it means stepping foot into his Father's city. He drops down silently, and walks through the house's ghost shield. "Would you like me to bring you anything?")
(Sam sighs through the phone, relief leaking through. "One of the veggie burgers from Nasty Burgers would be great, with their new ecto-fries. Extra salt. I'm sick of all this rich people food.")
(A small smile pulls across Danny's face, tilting at the corner as his living form falls away to his ghost self. "Alright," he says, and kicks himself off the ground, "I'll be there in a few minutes.")
("Thanks, Danny.")
He had the bag of food with him, stored in a container he had to run back to the house to get that would prevent the food from cooling during his flight over. Clutching it in hand, he floats down behind Sam and sheds his invisibility.
Being visible and being invisible always felt different, but in a way Danny can never describe, no matter how many times he tries to think about it. It's like a gut-feeling, a sixth sense, he always knows when he's visible and when he is not.
His ghost form burns away like steel wool being lit, and Danny drops the last foot to the ground silently. In his other hand lies his thermos, but filled with plain ectoplasm — lazarus water. "I have your food." 
(He brought the thermos for himself — his side was still healing from his last fight with Technus. The ghost impaled him with a broken pipe, and Danny returned the favor by wedging his sword into his chest. Technus had been quite offended by him ruining his favorite coat.)
Sam jumps a foot into the air, and her hand slams across her mouth to muffle the shriek she lets out as she whirls around. "Danny!" She hisses, her voice rising in pitch, and her eyes narrow at him into a glare. "Freaking-- Tucker's right, we seriously need to put a bell on you."
"You have been saying that for years," Danny grins, sharp-toothed and jack-knifed, and passes the container over to her. "And yet I've yet to see any kind of bell." He was going to start getting disappointed at this rate.
As Sam takes the container, Danny hops up onto the railing and looks around. He hadn't seen any of Father's other children lurking around the building before he revealed himself, but that doesn't mean they aren't there. He wasn't going to fool himself into thinking that their stealth skills were poor.
He wasn't that arrogant.
...Anymore.
"Oh you will." Sam threatens, unzipping the container and grabbing the takeout bag. "I'll get you a collar and everything, we can start calling you Catwoman." When she pulls out her fries, Danny snaps forward and steals one from the box, ignoring her indignant yell as he pops it into his mouth.
"I spent my own money on these fries, Sam." He sniffs, leaning away from her with a stifled huff of laughter as she swats at him. "So they are technically my fries. And also, Catwoman would be a poor thief if she wore a bell."
Sam grumbles at him, and takes a bite out of a handful of fries. "I'll venmo you money." She says past a mouthful of food, Danny would have been disgusted in the past, when he was still new. But he's gotten used to this... normality. So he makes no reaction to it. "How does three hundred bucks sound?"
Danny immediately frowns.
"Did you have a fight with your parents?" He asks, eyes glancing to the doors. Doors that are covered heavily by curtains and blurred heavily, decadent music passing through in muffled sounds. He shifts himself away from the light. "You only spend that much money when they've pissed you off."
Sam's chewing stops, and her annoyed expression falters into one Danny knows well -- hurt, furrowed brows, a small frown, disappointment -- and she turns her head away from him. She swallows. "Yeah." she says, quiet.
Oh.
Danny knows that tone too.
Guilt settles like a rock in his chest. He leans forward, "Was it about me again?" He wasn't blind to the disdain Sam's parents had for him, far from it. This wasn't the first time Sam had gotten into a fight with them over her friendship with him and Tucker. But especially him. He unsettled people, even after years of observing his age-mates and trying to mimic their behavior, and anyone who knew him in middle school knew it was an act.  
Sam's silence gives him all the confirmation he needs, and the guilt heavies itself with the weight of the sky. Danny's never much cared about others' opinions of him -- he is (was?) an Al Ghul, they never heed to mind what the weight of a simpleton's thoughts.
But.. he cares a little a lot when it hurts his friends like this. He presses his lips together into a thin line, and forces the words out through his teeth. It sounds robotic. Al Ghul's do not apologize. "I... am sorry." But this one does. It doesn’t come easy. 
Sam sighs through her nose, and turns to roll her eyes at him. "Don't apologize on their behalf when you won't even apologize for your own; their assholes." She says, and goes reaching for more fries.
It's a sign, a signal. A silent word for the conversation to move on, to change. A distraction. Danny grasps it with both hands, and makes an offended noise in the back of his throat. And like he has learned, puts a hand to his chest like a scandalized American southern lady. "I apologize! I apologize plenty."
She snorts. "Only when you think it matters." And pokes him in the ribs sharply with her fry. He withholds a wince and snatches it out of her hands. "You're about as unapologetic as they come, Danny J. Fenton. I've seen you look more sincere when you're trying to drive your sword between Vlad's ribs."
"Stabbing Masters is a very important task for me, Sam." Danny says in only partially faux-seriousness. Masters has yet to realize that Danny had no interest in becoming his son, but he had to (reluctantly) admire his persistence. "Of course I will apply myself to it as best as I can."
He grins triumphantly when Sam laughs, and she reaches over to shove him square in the chest. He barks out a laugh of his own as he grips onto the balcony railing and catches himself at an angle.
"Quit with your method actor talk," Sam retorts, grinning sharply while Danny twists himself back up elegantly. "I know you can talk like a normal person, I've literally seen you do it."
Danny sniffs, and snatches more fries from the carton as revenge. "I'm not entirely sure what you mean, Miss Sam." He says, grin-twisting when Sam rolls her eyes. "My speech has always been this way. This 'normal' you speak of, I do not know it."
She waves her hand dismissively at him. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. But if you keep talking like that, I'm pushing you off the balcony."
"Such violence, Sam."
He gets a laugh again, full of disbelief without any of the annoyance. "I'm gonna be the one that stabs you, oh my god. Pot meet kettle." She looks at him again, smiling.
Danny smiles back, and with a flick of his wrist pulls out a kunai from his sleeve. It was one of the few weapons Mother was able to pass on to him whenever she made her scarce visits. He cherishes it well, along with anything else she was capable of giving him. 
He holds the handle out to her, and watches her face shift from disbelief to shock, then back to disbelief. "Then you're gonna need a weapon to do that." 
"Of course you have a pointy object on you." She mutters, and takes the kunai and puts it in her purse. Danny makes a pleased hum, it resonates low in his core, and drops his hand. "When do you not have a pointy object on you?"
As if to make her point, Danny's hands twist near his side, and he holds his palms up to her, revealing the shobo he had also hidden on him. He gives her a shit-eating grin. "Never." He lowers his hand, and pockets the small weapon once again. 
Sam huffs, "Of course," she repeats, "thanks. I was gonna bring a knife but..."
Danny finishes the sentence for her, kicking his feet idly and knowingly. "The security at the door?" He'd seen them on his flight over the building. It wouldn't do much in the face of the Rogues, but at least they were good at keeping appearances and keeping out the smaller threats.
He rolls his eyes and turns his head away, looking up to the ugly, smog-covered skies. There was no bat signal in the air, and while that was a good thing, Danny almost wished there was. He wanted to see it. "I saw, and I would’ve called Father foolish if he hadn’t hired help. He attracts trouble almost as badly as I do."
"Maybe it's hereditary," Sam jokes, laughing under her breath. With her fries finished, she started on her veggie burger. "At least your dad isn't a vigilante like you are."
Danny smiles wryly. It felt nice to be able to talk more freely about this. That he didn't have to hide the fact that his father was Bruce Wayne, now that Sam knew it from her own accord. Maybe he could have conversations like these more often. Even if it was limited to Bruce Wayne only.
(Even if it felt a little terrifying to know that his father was so close by, close enough that Danny could reach out and touch him. To speak to him. But how would he explain that? And with an audience?)
(He’s wanted to see him since he was a kid, and he still does. It clings onto him like a cough that doesn’t go away after the cold already has, and while it has faded over the years, it clings. His mother’s words still ring in his ears however; it’s not safe. It’s not safe.)
(And isn’t that why he faked his death in the first place? So that his little brother would be safe? Why he gave up the heirship, his home, his Mother, Damian, and his chance to meet his Father? Going to see Father, even now, would be throwing that all away. He has to stay away.)
(Why is Damian with Father if staying with Father was unsafe?) 
He just needed to tell Tucker. Danny wouldn’t keep him out of the loop, he was just as much as his friend as Sam was. His eyes draw towards the door, where the golden glow of lights was still pouring through, where music was playing loudly. "Yeah, fortunately." 
They fall into a comfortable silence after that, and Danny finally cracks open his thermos. The pipe Technus impaled him with was covered in a goo that Danny didn’t recognize, but whatever it was, his injury was taking its time healing. The ectoplasm was speeding it up. 
He isn’t sure what the difference between the ectoplasm that Drs. Fenton collected and Grandfather’s Lazarus pools is, but there’s a difference. He swirls the thermos slowly, watching as the ectoplasm inside twists into a small whirlpool sluggishly. 
When left alone, it thickens into a consistency similar to egg whites, or perhaps a thick smoothie, but reverts back into a water-like substance when moved and swirled. It was strange; unexplainable. He can understand, to an extent, why the Drs. Fenton are so obsessed with studying it and the dimension it comes from. 
Sam watches him idly as he brings the thermos to his lips and drinks from it. The effect is instantaneous, a sense of relief washing over Danny as if someone had put a soothing balm onto an injury. It buzzes down to his fingertips, and when he lowers the thermos, he licks his lips and watches the tips of his fingers burn green like frostbite. 
“Your hair turned white again.” Sam comments, her hand reaching out and touching the hair on the nape of his neck. While it’s not the first time Sam’s touched his hair, it still makes him tense up with her hand so close to his throat. Instinct. dan
He ignores the urge to bat her hand away, humming thoughtfully. “I’ve noticed it does that.” He says, pulling down his bangs to see if they’ve also turned white. No, still black. He lets go. “Let me guess; my eyes are green too?” He lifts the thermos again and peers into the chrome casing. 
Sam nods, “Yep, but it’s only the, uh.” She makes a circle around her eyes with her finger. “The iris part. Everything else is fine.” 
Danny can see that. The faint reflection on the chrome casts back an intense green. He takes another sip. It chills the back of his teeth, and he can feel his canines warp and sharpen. He runs his tongue over them, and swallows. 
Sam is still watching him, her fingers drumming against the balcony railing. “What’s it taste like?” 
“Carbonated.” He says dryly, before taking a large swig. He couldn’t name a specific flavor if he tried, it changed every time he took a sip. The only thing that stayed consistent was that it tasted carbonated. And slightly sweet. When he pulls the thermos away, Danny twists his body towards her and offers it out, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. “Want to try?” 
Her reaction is immediate. Sam’s nose scrunches up and her mouth twists into a smile, and she makes a huffing-laugh sound. “No, thank you.” She pushes it away lightly with her fingers, “I don’t know how to explain to my parents why my hair is white.” 
Right. Danny pulls the thermos away and puts it down beside him, straining his eyes to see if the rest of his hair has changed colors. Even just his first sip would take half an hour to fade back to its normal black, and he was a halfa. He had no idea how long it’d take to fade on Sam, who was human. 
There’s movement from the corner of his eye, and Danny snaps his head towards the source. There’s a figure, small, a boy, trying to hide behind one of the curtains at the door. His form just barely peeking out from the angle Danny was sitting at. He wouldn’t have seen him if the boy hadn’t moved. 
His fingers curl tightly into the railing, and he breathes in sharp. Sam’s smile crumbles away and she turns to see what he’s looking at. “I should go.” He says, and reaches for his thermos. “There’s someone spying on us. Don’t say anything, just look at me.” 
Sam’s expression warps, twists. Her eyes widen, her jaw starts to drop before fixing itself into place, and her shoulders curl up and tense. She forces it all to smooth over, and she leans casually against the railing. There’s a tick in her jaw. “I see.” Her voice comes through teeth. “Do you think they saw you?”
“I am not sure.” Danny says. He keeps an eye on the figure as he twists himself over and grabs the Nasty Burger bag and the container. He tries not to look like he’s rushing. He is. How long has that boy been there? How much did he see? Did he hear anything? 
“Father, fortunately, has privacy films on the glass. Nobody should have seen me unless they’re specifically trying to peep through the door.” He says. The boy seems to realize that Danny was starting to leave. And, his heart beginning to sink, instead of leaving, moves to grab the door handle instead.
No. No, no, no, no, no.
Danny’s breath catches in his throat, he’s hoping that isn’t who he think it is. But how else would he have not noticed an eavesdropper on their conversation unless it was someone who was capable of bypassing those skills? He told himself that he wouldn’t fool himself into thinking that his siblings’ had poor stealth. He got distracted. 
Five years, five years. He refuses to let that go down the drain. He zips up the container and throws his legs over the other side of the railing, his back facing the door. He hears the doorknob click, and without a word to Sam, slips off down the side and down to the ground below.
Just in time. The once muffled music now sounds blaring as the door presumably is thrown open and the pull of invisibility washes over him like a second skin. He doesn't stay to see who it is.
#dpxdc#danny fenton is not the ghost king#dp x dc#dp x dc crossover#dpdc#dpxdc crossover#danyal al ghul au#older brother danny#first danny pov of the au! whoo!#danny's hair turns white if he drinks ectoplasm brrrrr and his eyes turn green. good for him#this sat in my drafts for the last few days until i finally finished it during class#it was a math class and i already knew the material so tis fiiiine. now i just need to finish my CFAU post rewrite :)#ectoplasm tastes like that time i went to go get pepsi from the soda machine and it was all out of the pepsi flavoring so instead i got a#cup full of carbonated liquid. it was disgusting. ectoplasm kinda tastes like that. sometimes.#danny smiles in this more than i thought he would but yk it fits. he IS more smiley around his friends and family.#ectoplasm is a weird non-newtonion fluid and danny is fascinated. its got the consistency of egg whites one minute and then water the next#its a water slime and then suddenly its as brittle as annealed glass. it heats up and rots like milk or it heats up and boils like water#it congeals. it thickens. it boils. it solidifies. it does whatever it wants. it gels and melts into a tar-like substance#how long has damian been standing there? good question. :) i almost had him open the door and make eye contact with damian before falling#backwards. i also almost had it be *bruce* and damian opening the door bc bruce found out that damian pulled a knife on sam and was gonna#have him come apologize. that would be a fun scene. prolonged eye contact prolonged eye contact prolonged eye contact#imagery brrrr. had fun playing with how danny's ghost form works. if anyone has seen a video of steel wool burning thats how i imagine#danny's ghost transformation to be like.#also ayyy balancing danny's dialogue be like “how fancy should he sound and how Normal Teenager Should He Sound”#when sam gets home she catches tucker up to speed about everything including the convos with the waynes she had and they both form the#'“Fuck Them Waynes” squad. Sam has jumped to the entirely wrong conclusion about danny's separation from his family but in her defense.#it is a pretty sound conclusion to jump to considering the lack of context she has from danny's prior home life. which is almost none at al#so to her it looks like danny got abandoned by bruce wayne
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misserabella · 7 months
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i want to hear you scream
tsunderes abby and ellie! x fem! reader
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synopsis; strange and gory murders have been going on in your town. it’s one night alone at your home that you discover the reason behind this slashers, and the identity of those behind the mask.
cw; +18 content, minors dni!!, murders of characters, description of stabbing and gore, slashers, knives, blood, death of fictional characters, chasing, fear, kissing, making out sessions, dirty talking, teasing, pleading and begging, prey kink (?), use of y/n (i’m sorry but it was needed) but mostly of nicknames like doll, princess and baby, threats, knife kink (?), dom! abby and ellie x sub! reader, nipple and boob play, fingering, face riding, oral sex (r and abby receiving), strap on use (r! receiving), multiple orgasms, squirting, spanking, choking, sick obsession, abby and ellie are tsunderes for reader, abby and ellie make out (😍), degradation and praise, praise kink, cum eating, ellie and abby use reader like a toy…
a/n; i’ve spent three days on this. it’s been hard and i hope all of you really like this halloween special. have lots of fun and be safe this halloween! love you! also special thanks to @atomicami and @abbyscherry for cheering me up so much ily!!!🩷
“this is so horrible…” you told your best friend dina as you watched the news. harry, a guy from your high school had been murdered. he was the fourth victim in the hands of this terrible murderer called ghost face. your high school had cancelled its classes in hope to make its students safer, to no avail and luck it seemed, since every morning a new body appeared.
“shit! he gutted him up!” dina yelled, eyes widened as she stared at the screen, now showing harry with his abdomen open, intestines hanging and in full display. you looked away, incapable to look.
“why a he? it could be a girl.” you said, and dina looked at you.
“could you gut a guy up? are you the killer?!” she jumped and you shook your head.
“i slept with you last night!”
“maybe you snuck out and killed harry!” you frowned.
“why would i do that?”
“for how he treated you last year, remember? when you turned him down and then went bragging about having fucked you and saying ‘how much of a slut you were’.” she explained. “it seems reasonable to me.”
“you’re right… and you’re next!” you screamed as you jumped on her, making her laugh as you tickled her.
“okay, okay! i surrender!” she struggled in between chuckles and you pulled away, letting her breath.
that was when your phone pinged with a new notification. you sighed when you saw who it was coming from.
“who’s that?” dina inquired, peeking from your side to get a glimpse of the screen. “ugh. liam? again?! he is fucking obsessed.”
“i know. i don’t know why he keeps trying. i already told him i don’t go for boys but he won’t stop.” you rolled your eyes, leaving your phone aside. “by the way, didn’t you have to go meet up with jesse?” you remembered, to what your friend gasped.
“oh my god i’m so late!!!” she jumped out of the couch, putting on her shoes. “when are your parents getting home?” she asked.
“not for another couple of days.”
“wait. should i stay with you? i’m not sure you should be left alone… do you want me to stay?” you shook your head.
“no! no! i’ll be alright. i promise.” she didn’t move, to why you got up and pushed her slightly so she’d start moving towards the door. “go! jesse is waiting for you.”
she groaned. “okay! but promise me you’ll stay safe!” she said and you nodded, opening the door for her, your fuzzy socks against the hardwood floor.
“i promise. you too please.” she nodded, and gave you a tight hug.
“lock the doors!” she yelled as she made her way back to her car.
“don’t trust the love interest!” you yelled back and she funnily looked at you, rolling her eyes.
you waved at her goodbye and watched her drive away before closing your front door and locking it. you cheeked every door and window of your house, making sure they were closed.
you went back to the salon, getting snacks on the way to scroll through the different options of movies you had to spend your time with. you went ahead and picked one horror one, it was october after all.
you were mid-film when your phone lighted up with another notification from liam.
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you rolled your eyes, taking a peek at the later and most recent messages he had sent you.
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you frowned.
“what?” you muttered to yourself. was this a joke? was he playing with you?
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next thing you knew your phone was ringing, liam’s name on your screen. you picked it up, an unknown voice coming through the phone. it was not liam.
“hello, y/n.”
“who’s this? where’s liam?” you heard a chuckle.
“asking about a man while talking to me? now you might make me jealous…” “liam can’t come to the phone right now. he’s… indisposed.” you looked out your windows, you could feel someone watching you. it was making your skin crawl. “what are you looking for, hm?”
“i’m gonna call the police.” you nervously said, and heard a laughter.
“ending our little play date so soon? we haven’t even played yet. do you want to play a game, y/n?” you were growing paler by the minute, your skin shining in a cold sweat.
you quickly hung up the phone, calling dina instead.
“come on, come on…” you muttered as it rang. “pick up, pick up!” you sighed when she finally did. “oh thank god, dina! there’s something wrong! i think there’s someone…” but all your words died on your throat when that same voice came though the line.
“did i tell you you could hang up on me?” this time it was rougher. your phone received a video, in which you could see dina and jesse laughing and eating popcorn. “dina seems pretty happy tonight, hanging with her little boyfriend. she really shouldn’t leave her phone lying around for anyone to clone…”
“what do you want?” you sacredly asked, throat dry.
“i told you, i want to play a game. horror movie trivia, three rounds. you call the cops, she and her boyfriend die. you get a question wrong, they die. i can be in that room in 15 seconds. you want a warm up question?” you were sobbing by the time.
“i don’t know much about horror movies!” you pleaded, hearing a chuckle.
“poor thing…” “in the fist stab movies, what woodsboro native was introduced as the franchise’s main character?” the killer completely ignored you, starting the game.
you though for a moment before the answer came up to your mind. “it’s sidney prescott!” you sniffled, quickly talking. “it’s sidney prescott and she lived on elm.”
“correct!” the voice cheered. “you see? you’re gonna do great at this! okay, question one—“
you frowned, quickly cutting them up.
“no, no, no, no… i got that one right. it should count.”
“that was your warm up question, sweet thing, anyone could have gotten that one right, it’s easy. sidney’s in every movie but the last one.” “question one. who wrote the book the shining?” the killer inquired and you quickly answered. you knew that one.
“stephen king!”
“correct. dina and jesse might live to see the sunrise.” “question two. how many people died at the hand of jason in the first friday the 13th movie?” your eyes widened.
“um… um…” shitshitshit.
“times ticking…”
you quickly left the call and entered google, searching the answer. once you came up with it with shaky hands, you answered.
“none.”
“correct! you seemed to pull that one off. let’s move to the last question…” “what is the number one rule on randy’s list for surviving a horror movie in scream?”
your face fell. “i…”
you didn’t know.
you were trying to find the answer but nothing was coming up. why was there nothing coming up?!
“no answer?” you swallowed your tears as you walked to the kitchen, taking a knife. you were getting ready for what’s coming.
“fuck you.” you spat, and heard a chuckle once again.
“close… but wrong. now, you might be able to answer to this one… am i inside the house or out?” your blood ran cold. suddenly, you heard a creek of the floor wood, and when you turned around, there it was, black eyes and white face staring at you in a scream.
you shrieked, and ran, hearing quick footsteps behind you. you ran was quickly as you could towards the entry door, which stood open, handle jammed, but before you could reach a couple of arms were engulfing you in a tight grip, and your knife was clattering on the floor.
you screamed, trying to fight off the masked killer, punching and kicking them as hard as you could, to no avail. they were too strong.
“shh, shh, that’s harsh baby. treating me so badly when the only thing i’ve done is treat you so right…” the modulated voice whispered on your ear, pulling you with them to your living room. “i even brought you a present!” the killer said, and in a blink the lights to your garden were on, showing who seemed to be liam tied to a chair, eyes widening in terror when he saw you, trying to free himself from the restraints, and scream thought the tape shutting his mouth.
but what really made your heart jump was the other ghost face standing beside him, who crooked their head to the side. “what’s the matter, y/n? you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“there are…, two?” you inquired to yourself in disbelief, in fear. this made a lot of sense to why they couldn’t find the culprit to all these murders.
“oh, sweetheart, there’re always two.” the ghostface holding you muttered in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “what do you have to say about your present, hm? isn’t it pretty?” your eyes drifted back to liam, who was already staring at you with a terrified look in his eyes. he looked beat up, nose broken and one of his eyes puffy and turning purple.
you felt your eyes pricking with tears at the thought that you could be next. “what do you want?” you wobbly inquired.
“you don’t like it? we did it just for you. we know how much he’s been nagging you. poor brain dead boy can’t take a hint.” liam grunted when the ghostface beside him gave him a smack in the head.
“we also found out something you’d like to see…” the ghostface behind you said, pressing the knife against your throat just a little tighter so you wouldn’t move as they freed you from one of their arms, their gloved hand dipping inside the pockets of their dark cloak and pulling out a hand of pictures. “why don’t you take a look?” your eyes drifted to the pictures they were handing you. they were all of you. in high school, at your home, sleeping, with your friends…
“what… what is this?” your fear coated voice asked, and the other ghost face chuckled.
“why don’t you ask, liam? caught him rubbing one out to them. seems like he likes you a little bit too much.” your eyes widened in horror. he had been stalking you?
“that’s a little bit serial killer of you, liam…” the ghostface behind you sarcastically said, clicking their tongue.
“liam…?” you called for him, and the other ghostface pulled the tape off of his mouth.
“i… i’m sorry! i couldn’t help it!” you felt sick to your stomach, the urge to puke deep in your throat. he stopped talking as the ghostface punched him in the face.
“fucking disgusting…” liam grunted when they took him by the hair, a knife on his throat. “you make me want to gut you up, like all those other pigs and bitches before you. they had it fucking coming by trying to hurt her, fuck her.” your heart seemed to stop, your eyes widened.
“wait…” you looked as pale as a ghost, blood frozen in your veins. “you did all of this… killed all of them… for me?” you suddenly stopped feeling those warm arms around you, letting you free. you were in shock, stuck in place.
“you seem surprised.” the ghostface beside you cocked their head, waving their knife. “what? couldn’t expect someone would kill for you? oh baby, we would do anything for you.” they walked away from you and towards the other ghostface. “sarah martins. bullied you all the way through your first years of high school. she made you so unhappy… we couldn’t let her get away with it.” they said. “bitch died like a fucking pussy, calling for her mommy.” they snickered.
“cole brown.” the other ghostface, who now you could see was much broader and taller than the one that had been holding you spoke. “really thought making fun of you at prom was ‘cool’. cool was the way his face caved in when i dug my fucking axe into his brains.”
“sarah smith. that bitch couldn’t keep her mouth shut, speaking badly of you to everyone. i made her eat shit, and then, her own puke before i turned her into a fucking strainer.”
“harry davis. sour motherfucker. couldn’t fuck you so he had to lie about it. gutted him like a fish.”
“and lastly, you…” the taller ghostface took liam’s face with one of their big hands. “what should we do with you?”
“let’s just finish him off already, i’m getting bored.” the other said, lifting their knife.
they had killed them all… for you. because they… loved you?
“who are you?” you inquired, the masks both looking back at you. you could almost feel their smirks.
“look at her. isn’t she cute? we killed 4 people for her and she’s already in deep.” the ghostface laughed. “is that it sweet thing? that’s why you ain’t running? you liked that we hurt these people for you?” you shook your head.
“no, i-“
“i think you do. i think you’re getting off on this. having someone so obsessed with you that they’d kill those that had hurt you.“
“that’s not true!”
“what makes you think you couldn’t be next?” the other asked, stepping closer to you, and you took a step back, their big figure intimidating.
“you love me.” you said, and they sighed.
“that i do. but that doesn’t mean that i couldn’t hurt you.” you took a glimpse at the knife in their hands. “do you want me to hurt you?” your legs shook. you could feel the eyes behind the mask trailing down your body, covered by your skimpy little pijama. “answer me.” the killer ordered, but you could only focus on the dragging of their knife up your stomach, slowly.
“no.”
“liar.” you shivered, gasping when a hand circled your neck.
“what do you want from me…?”
“you know what we want.” you gulped, thighs squeezing against the other. “and you seem to want it too.” you unconsciously bit down on your lip. why was this strangely turning you on? they were killers for god sakes, you should be calling the cops, running as far as you could. but suddenly they were pushing away. “but first… we need to take care of our little friend here.” they went back to liam, who looked terrified.
“please, please let me go, i won’t do it again!” he begged, and the other ghostface groaned.
“ugh. hate it when they start begging.” they said before stabbing him in the stomach, making him yelp in pain. you gasped, hands going up to your mouth as you watched the blood starting to pour down onto the floor of your patio. “don’t you get it?” they inquired, pressing the knife to his temple. “you’re not getting out of here alive.”
“no, please!” another stab, this time coming from the ghostface that had come up to you moments ago.
“should’ve thought it twice before messing with our girl.”
our girl. our girl. our girl. our girl. our girl. our girl.
you were their girl.
another stab.
and another.
and another.
you could just stand there and watch as blood sputtered from liam’s lip, as the life slowly left his eyes and he bled to death. one final slice to the throat was what finally ended his suffering, cascades of blood trailing down his neck and chest as he tried to breath in gurgles. with one last shaky breath, he was gone.
“one more, one less.” one of them said, before the two of them turned towards you, white masks splattered in blood. “now… what should we do with you?” you shivered as they stepped closer, you could feel their intense gaze on you.
“such a pretty little thing… look at her. i’ve waited for this moment for so long…”
they were caging you in between them and the exterior wall of your home like predators would with their prey. they thrived on this, on your terror, on this little sick game of theirs.
you gasped when your back hit the wall, cold surface against your burning skin. then, their hands were on you, and you were in flames. your skin grew in goosebumps.
“so beautiful…” you watched as the taller one took off their bloody gloves, one of their warm strong hands cupping your cheek. “can’t stain such a pretty thing with their filthy blood, right?” “now. why don’t you tell us what you want, hm?”
“your faces. i want to see your faces.” you begged, hands shaking.
“whatever my girl wants.” the other said, before raising their still gloved hands towards their mask, the one touching you did the same, and at the same time they let them fall onto the floor.
all breath left your lungs. they were beautiful. like angels of death that had come knocking down on your door. you were mesmerized. blonde strands with the bluest eyes staring into your soul, along with green ones with auburn hair that would shine like fire under the sun. you were mesmerized.
the freckled girl chuckled, her now naked hands taking your chin. “look at her, like a deer in dead lights. like what you see, baby?” your cheeks flushed. you did. you tried to look away, but there was the tall blonde to stop you, her hand back against your cheek.
“aw, don’t go and get shy on us now. you better answer ellie, princess.”
ellie. the green eyed was called ellie.
“i do.” you said, and their smirks only grew more.
“i bet you do, hm?” ellie hummed, her thumb pressing against your bottom lip, caressing it. “you know. i’m so tired due to all the killing and all… treated you so good… i think we deserve a thank you, don’t you think doll?” you nodded. god. her voice was doing things to you.
“thank you.” you breathed out, but she clicked her tongue.
“come on, i think you can do better than that, hm?” she stared at your lips, thumb pulling from your bottom one, and you gulped. you knew what she wanted. you nodded, and she smiled, wetting her own with her tongue as she leant in. you couldn’t help but stare at her lips due to that gesture, slowly closing the distance in between the two of you until her lips were on yours. she groaned, and your whole body shivered. it didn’t take long until her tongue was pushing inside your mouth, and you whimpered, your eyes closed shut as you kissed her back. once she pulled away, there was a string of spit connecting both of your lips. she licked at your bottom lip to get rid of it, making you slightly moan. “good girl.” she praised, and your cunt throbbed. “now, why don’t you thank abby, hm? don’t want her to get jealous.”
abby. ellie and abby. why did their names have to be as pretty as them?
abby bit down on her bottom lip, cunt throbbing at your half lidded eyes, dazed face and swollen reddish lips. she wanted to eat you whole. she didn’t waste time in pulling you by your waist, warm tongue inside your mouth as your hands clasped on her strong broad shoulders. they kissed so good… the kiss quickly escalated. she was hungry. you moaned against her lips as her hands took your ass, squeezing, pulling impossibly closer. “abby…” you sighed when you felt her lips on her neck.
“fuck. sounds even better than i expected.” she muttered, her name sounded heavenly if it came from your lips.
“now i’m the one getting jealous.” ellie said with a a smirk on her lips, obviously enjoying the little show you two where giving her. you pulled from her cloak closer, and her eyes fell as she leant in when you did, searching her lips once again. “oh, yeah?” her eyebrows arched and you nodded, kissing her. this time she wasn’t as soft as the first time, biting down on your bottom lip as your hands dipped in her auburn hair. she hummed. this was heaven. ellie’s lips on your own and abby’s on your neck, sucking bruises that you won’t even bother to cover —it’s not as if they’d let you—. suddenly ellie’s hands were on your boobs, and your back arched, her fingers pinching your nipples. “let’s go to your room, hm?” you nodded, fucked out look on your face, and took one of their hands in between your own to drag them upstairs.
you were on the bed as soon as you were stepping into your room, abby and ellie taking their cloaks of to show their jeans and wife beaters, along with the bulges resting in between their thighs. your mouth watered, and ellie chuckled.
“my eyes are up here, doll.” you blushed.
“needy little thing, you just need a good fuck, don’t you?” abby’s sultry voice went straight to your cunt, and you moaned, nodding. “of course you do, look at you. i bet that little pussy of yours is soaked, isn’t it?” you bit down on your lip, and nodded again. “why don’t you show us, baby?” suddenly, you felt exposed, their gazes on you making you shiver. you slowly took of your shorts, along with your cotton panties, which were now drenched in your slick. your whole body was burning by the time your thighs parted, your cunt on full display for the pair, who groaned at the same time. “open up for me, princess.” she muttered, eyes unable to move away from your soaked folds. you complied, two of your fingers dipping in between them to pull them apart, slick keeping them connected, and show your twitching entrance and puffy little clit.
“fuuuuck.” ellie moaned, one of her hands coming down to her crotch to palm herself, the back of her strap rubbing her own throbbing clit. “good girl.” she praised, and you whimpered, your hole twitching in need.
“please…” you begged.
“what do you want, princess? tell us and we’ll give it to you.” abby said.
“i want you. i want you to fuck me.” that was their breaking point. ‘cause who were they to say no to something they’ve been dreaming about for years. they were on you in a blink. hands all over your body. abby’s fingers dipped in between your folds, ellie’s hands got rid of your shirt, leaving you completely exposed and naked for them, and took a hold of your tits. your back arched, maybe at the tight circles abby was drawing on your clit, maybe at the feeling of ellie’s lips and tongue on your sensitive nipples. a pornographic drawn out moan left your lips, your eyes squeezing shut. “fuck.” you cried out. you’ve never felt like this. you’ve never been this wet.
“so fucking soaked, you’re desperate for it, huh?” abby groaned, and ellie bit down on your nipple. “gonna stuff this pretty pussy up.” you moaned.
“you want abby to fuck you baby? want her to stretch you open on her cock?” ellie taunted you. you nodded, and she smirked. “of course you do… why don’t you get on your hands and knees for us, hm?” your legs were quivering, arms wobbly as you pushed yourself to the position she had asked for, exposing your ass and wet cunt to the hungry eyes of abby, whose hands came down to squeeze your ass cheeks, making you whine. ellie’s thumb caressed your bottom lip, slightly pushing inside your mouth. “open.” she ordered, and your mouth fell ajar for her. “more.” you gagged as she pushed down on your tongue. “thaaat’s it.” your eyes rolled to the back of your head and a moan ripped your throat when you felt abby’s tongue licking a fat strip up in between your slick folds.
“fuck. tastes so good.” abby groaned, her fingers digging in your ass to push you back against her face.
you were in a daze, spit dribbling down your chin as abby ate you out.
“now. you’re gonna take whatever abby’s gonna give you while i fuck this pretty little mouth of yours, understood?” you nodded, and her thumb left your mouth so her hands would reach her crotch and unzip her jeans. she wasn’t wearing any underwear, just her black strap, which hung low on her hips once she got rid of her pants. you gulped. it was fucking huge. “open up for me, doll.” you complied, moans leaving your throat due to abby’s administrations. she was eating you out like a starved woman, tongue buried in your hole, slurping to every tiny drop you’d give her.
soon enough ellie was sliding down your throat, slowly. “atta girl. nice and deep.” and you tried your best to take it, to not choke and gag. but a harsh deep thrust made you, and ellie couldn’t love it more. “fuck that’s it. choke on my cock, baby.” she groaned. the sight was heavenly.
but you were the one in heaven. abby’s lips were around your clit, sucking, as one of her fingers probed inside your cunt, making you whimper. ellie continued her thrusts down your throat, making spit dribble down your chin towards your breasts. your back was arched in pleasure, your eyes watery. you were so turned on that you knew you wouldn’t last.
abby pushed another finger in, fucking them in and out of you, her thick fingers perfectly hitting your g spot. you were a moaning mess, doe eyes heavy as you stared up at ellie. “fuck. i want to fucking ruin you.” she muttered through gritted teeth, her hips snapping harder. you whimpered, your cunt clenching around abby’s fingers. you were gonna cum.
“you’re gonna cum baby? gonna soak my face?” you nodded around ellie’s cock, moaning. “go ahead, let me see this pretty pussy drip for me.” when her lips went back to your clit sucking, you felt it hit you. your walls squeezed around her fingers as you moaned, tears falling down your cheeks as abby fucked you through it, walls pulsing and soaking her digits in a creamy white that dripped down your seam. she sucked you clean, licking her fingers as she pushed them inside her mouth once you were done.
your ears picked up on the sound of a flyer opening, and your cunt throbbed. your back arched when you felt the tip of her strap gliding through your puffy folds. you whined.
“can’t wait to fuck this pretty pussy, fuck.” she groaned. “gonna fill you up so good baby, gonna stretch you and mold you to my cock.” you nodded around ellie’s dick, whimpering.
“look at her, she’s begging for it.” she chuckled. “you better give it to her, abby.” she didn’t have to say it twice before she was pushing inside of you, all breath leaving your lungs. she was so fucking big.
“that’s it princess, open up for me. taking my cock so good. pussy so hungry for it…” you moaned, trying to relax so you could fit it all inside. you moaned when she finally thrusted herself inside your warm walls, a squelch filling the room along with abby’s grunt. the strap rubbed perfectly her puffy clit.
she pulled out just to thrust inside once again, and your back arched.
“good girl. you’re being such a good girl letting us use you like this…” one of ellie’s hands came down onto your head, slim fingers lacing on your hair.
“pussy so good is swallowing me all up. you like my cock baby? like it?” she groaned, snapping harshly her hips against your ass. you screamed, gagging around ellie’s dick.
they were harshly fucking you now, taking everything they could from you. you were gagging and moaning non stop, your mind feeling dizzy due to the lack of air.
every thrust hit your g spot, one of abby’s hands, that had been gripping your hips hardly enough to leave bruises, coming down in between your thighs to rub at your oversensitive clit. you tried to wiggle your way away from her touch, but her other hand came down onto your ass in a slap. “don’t run away from me.” she ordered and you whimpered. ellie pulled out of your mouth, and since she no longer was grabbing you by your hair, your arms wobbled, letting you fall against the duvet.
“look at you…” she cooed. “used like a fucking toy, hm?” she chuckled. moans spilled from your lips with every one of abby’s thrusts your sore nipples rubbing against the sheets at the strength of the snaps of her hips. “get up. we’re not done with you yet.” she pulled you up by your hair again, abby’s free hand and arm holding you form your stomach to pull you closer against her chest, making her cock slip deeper inside of you. you cried out.
“too much. ‘s too much!” you slurred.
“fuck abby, i can see your cock in her.” ellie moaned, biting down on her lip at the sight of abby’s strap poking through the skin of your stomach in a bulge. ellie’s hand took the place of abby’s against your clit so the blonde could drag you down harder on her dick. she was kissing your fucking cervix.
“i’m so deep in her she can’t even speak.” the other chuckled, groaning and grunting with each snap of her hips against you.
“i’m gonna… i’m gonna cum. i’m cumming.” you cried, fat tears spilling from your watery doe eyes.
“yeah? gonna give us another one, baby?” you nodded, moaning non stop. “of course you are. go ahead, baby. i wanna hear you scream.” your eyes rolled to the back of your head as your second orgasm of the night hit you. you were drowning on it, screaming, gasping on ellie’s mouth as she hungrily and wetly kissed you. you tried to kiss her back in between cries and moans to no avail, your tongue messily sliding against her own.
“good girl. good. fucking. girl.” abby groaned with each thrust, fucking all your cum out of your cunt.
once you came down from it, you were panting heavily, body completely limp in between abby’s arms.
ellie’s hand surrounded your neck, biting on your bottom lip. “you think you can give me one more, baby? gonna let me fuck you, hm?”
“i can’t cum anymore…” you cried, and she cooed.
“aw… aren’t you cute.” she falsely pouted. “that’s something for me to decide.” you whimpered. oh fuck, why was your clit throbbing again? “here’s what we’re gonna do.” she squeezed your neck, making you gasp. “you’re gonna open your fucking legs for me and take my cock while you eat abby out, hm? i think she deserves a little thank you for fucking you up so good, don’t you think?” you nodded and she smiled. “that’s my girl.” you whined as abby pulled out of you, the emptiness in between your thighs making you shudder and whimper.
“shhhh, don’t worry baby. ellie’s gonna fuck you real good.” she whispered, slightly pushing you so you would lay on your back on the sheets. you watched as she unclasped her strap, showing her blonde mound and shiny lips. your mouth watered. “gonna be good for me and make me cum?” you nodded, and she crept her way up your body until your face stood below and between her thighs. you moaned, shiny eyes glued to her perfect pussy. your hands gripped her strong thighs as you felt ellie’s hands part your own to get in between them.
abby lowered herself on your face, moaning when your tongue came out of your mouth to lick a strip up her clit from her leaking hole. you cried out. fuck. she tasted so good. abby groaned at the way you lapped at her slick, starved. “so fucking needy. you like my pussy baby?” you nodded, humming and moaning against her as you suckled on her clit. one of her hands came down on your hair, gripping it. you pulled away from her when you felt ellie entering you in a harsh and quick thrust, making you scream.
“fuck. she’s so tight…” she grunted. “she’s milking my fucking cock.” she thrusted inside, and you moaned, but abby pulled you back to her cunt.
“come on baby. use that pretty mouth of yours.” she grunted, her hips bucking against your tongue. you flattened it so she could ride your face. “that’s it. stick your tongue out for me. oh fuck.” she moaned.
your mind was fuzzy, your pussy drooling around ellie‘s cock.
your back arched. you were feeling so good. they were fucking you so good.
“my pretty little doll, hm? aren’t you baby?” abby groaned, watching as you sucked on her clit, your moans and whimpers driving her closer to her orgasm. “eating my pussy so good. you love it don’t you? love it that ellie and me are using you to cum like a little toy, huh? of course you do. fuck.” she moaned. your eyes opened, and you almost came at the sight of abby and ellie making out on top of you. the blonde’s head was turned to the side as ellie leaned forwards, hungrily kissing her in between groans and moans. you cried out.
“look at her, she likes it.” ellie chuckled, and abby looked at you, a smirk on her lips.
you moaned, watching as ellie kissed at abby’s neck.
“oh, she loves it.” abby teased you, ellie giving you a specially harsh thrust as her hands grasped at abby’s breasts, her hips slamming against yours, making the wet squelches of your pussy fill the room. “she’s fucking soaked.” she chuckled.
“then let’s give her a good show, hm?” ellie muttered against her lips, and abby harshly kissed her, making ellie moan.
you whimpered, watching as they made out on top of you, abby fucking your face. the kiss was hungry and angry, all tongue and teeth as abby pulled at ellie’s hair, making her fuck you harsher and faster. she was approaching her orgasm.
“i’m close.” abby groaned, snapping her hips harder against your mouth.
“me too, fuck. gonna cum so hard.” she gasped, and you moaned. “seems like she’s gonna cum too.” she smirked.
“you gonna cum, doll? gonna cream ellie’s cock?” you nodded, and abby moaned at the feeling of your nose bumping against your clit, pulling at your hair. “shit. go ahead baby, cum for us.” you moaned, your nails digging on her thighs as your own shook, your cunt pulsing as you came. you felt short of air, falling apart. you were fucking squirting. making a mess of the sheets and her cock.
“gonna fill you up. gonna fill this pussy up, fuck!” ellie groaned in between sloppy thrusts, finally cumming against her strap. abby didn’t take long to cream all over your tongue in a moan, thrusting her hips against your mouth to ride it out.
you were crying of overstimulation as they used you to fuck themselves through it.
when they finally stopped you felt boneless, completely spent. abby pulled away from your mouth, hearing a cry at the loss of ellie’s cock as she too pulled out of your drooling cunt. your cum had stained the bed sheets.
“poor thing. she’s completely fucked out.” ellie cooed, caressing your cheek.
“don’t worry baby. we’ll take care of you.” abby said. your vision was starting to blur, the exhaustion taking over your body. “we’ll always take care of you.” she promised. and with that, you passed out, feeling safe in between the arms of death.
-
a/n; 👻
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radiance1 · 10 months
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Killer Croc and Jack Fenton are brothers.
Killer Croc was the first born, just a about 5 years older than Jack. Their father was a large man, much larger than should be possible considering he never had a meta gene.
But oh boy would it have not surprised them if he did. Because that man was strong, 10 feet tall, and shrugged off things that would injure most people.
Like a brick to the head.
Anyways.
Croc was entranced with his younger brother; he was so small so much tinier than he had any right to be, and cuter than a button. He babbled like most babies do, but Croc wouldn't think twice before calling his baby brother the best baby of them all.
His dad could fit him in the palm of his hand easily! Which was just one of Jack's many great qualities in his opinion!
Croc and Jack's parents weren't really on the best of terms, Croc could tell. He didn't know why, really, but he didn't want his baby bro to feel unloved in any sort of way, and it's not like he really had friends to hang out with, plus his parents were busy with jobs.
So he mostly spent his time taking care of and playing with Jack. Changing diapers, feeding him, lifting him up and down with his tail, just the normal sibling stuff.
He feels kind of bad for his dad though, whatever kind of job he had didn't even let him come home most days, and when he did he could barely even walk upright without falling asleep and jolting awake. He still made time for them, however, when he got those rare few off days.
He's honestly surprised that man managed to drive a car properly in the state he was in.
Their mother was often out of the house, Crocc didn't know what she was doing but he just thought it was like his dad. Unlike his dad, however, she didn't really like him. He didn't really know why, nor did he really care either if he was to be honest.
Around a year later the tension between their parents got so thick it could be cut with a butter knife. Then it turned to arguments in the rare times they both were in the house, he didn't even know his parents could make such cutting remarks to each other, and then both of them being in the house less than before.
Then when he turned 10, and Jack 5. They got divorced. Croc was left with his mother and Jack got taken by his father. His mother didn't take the divorce well, really, probably because at the same time she got fired from whatever the hell she was doing and was left jobless.
Then she dropped the bomb on his that his dad wasn't even his actual dad and Jack is only his half-sibling and then promptly abandoned him in the sewers with the rats and what was most likely very poisoned water due to it being the sewers and Gotham.
Well. Fuck.
Croc thinks that Jack doesn't even remember him due to how young he was, nor did he ever see his dad again cause, y'know, being abandoned in the sewers and all.
Then multiple years later he ran into his brother again and got DAMN was he tall. Not taller than him, but it was basically the equivalent of a gut punch to Croc, because he remembers his baby bro being so tiny, so baby.
He blames his father's genes for him being 8 feet taller now. A head shorter than him, sure. But he wants back his small baby bro alright.
Then he finds out his baby bro has a family.
And fuck did he not want to involve himself anymore in fear of being a catalyst for tearing said family apart due to being, well, him and all. Then he was promptly (quite literally) dragged over to meet said family despite his stance on the matter.
Then he finds out he's just treated like a normal person with zero amount of fear. His wife? She had to have a giant in her family too because she was 7 feet tall and was smart enough to kick his ass.
His daughter? 6 feet tall and their first meeting she accidently became his therapist. Also, he was sure she was a meta of some kind, probably something to do with wolves.
Then finally, their son.
It felt like he was thrown back to his childhood when he saw him, he looked so much like Jack did, and he was so, so tiny just like his baby bro was. He had to physically hold himself back from doing anything with the kid because he feared he would accidentally break him or something.
Then he found out that apparently his nephew was half-dead and that his brother and his wife hated ghosts with a passion, built a portal to the other side, had their city attack by the ghost king and then promptly found out about their son's half-dead status and had to do a major revamp of basically everything they knew and acted upon.
Which they're still working on.
Oh and also their daughter is a werewolf, she had a meta gene from someone of his dad's side and only recently activated it.
All of that which was a lot to take in for old Killer Croc, also he knew his niece had something to do with wolves.
So, Killer Croc in all of his life from the point of being abandoned at up to now, decided to go screw the bats and whatever they're attempts of figuring out what the fuck's going on with him (look at you Red Hood.) and decided to try and integrate himself into this family and brother's life again as best he can.
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luci-in-trenchcoats · 1 month
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The Pathology Murders
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Summary: When the reader and the boys stumble across a gruesome scene, they get the feeling that the monster they're hunting is of the human variety...
Pairing: Dean x reader
Word Count: 5,800ish
Warnings: language, angst, lots of mentions of gore/death, trauma, accident, fluff
A/N: This fic was inspired by this imagine (which makes an appearance in this one shot) and also by the horror movie Pathology!
________
“What the hell…” Dean and Sam looked around the abandoned house, pausing like you had when they got to the kitchen. Your boys weren’t wimps by any means. They’d seen some serious crap. Done some serious crap. But that kitchen? 
It took Sam all of three seconds to step out of the room and upheave his greek salad from lunch.
Meanwhile Dean took it all in before his eyes landed on where you were trying to work the scene, fighting back another dry heave. 
“You alright?” he asked. You knew he was concerned. You weren’t one to puke up your guts either. But the poor soul on the kitchen table, or rather what was left of him…twisted wasn’t even the right word for it.
“Not particularly,” you said, pointing at a glass jar that housed a pair of kidneys on the stove. “Not all the organs made it into jars. Pretty sure the liver is in the sink.”
Dean cautiously took a step inside, swallowing thickly. Unlike you or Sam, who had your own experiences with hell, Dean’s had been far more…interactive. Sam’s soul was battered around by Lucifer but it’d been more psychological than physical. You’d spent an unpleasant night with a hellhound in the same cage and while it hadn’t been fun, you’d been able to stay in a corner and out of harms way. Dean though…Dean had been sliced and diced and hacked and every other possible horror, imaginable or not. And then he’d performed the acts himself. You never blamed him for giving in, for breaking. You’d told him time and time again he was, and always would be, a good man.
Some days, more often lately it seemed the older he got, he seemed to believe you.
“Whoever did this performed an autopsy on this guy. While he was alive,” said Dean, leaning over the body to get a closer look. “Huh. Anybody see a heart around here?”
You surveyed the bloody room, finding more than a few peculiar shaped body parts but nothing resembling a heart. Sam finally made his way in, taking a deep inhale as he got used to the gore before him. “I got nothing over here.”
“Could be a werewolf,” said Dean, cocking his head as he straightened, brow furrowing. “Or a witch.”
You knew he wasn’t buying that though, neither of you were. You tore your eyes away from the search to watch Sam’s expression flare up with a strange look of familiarity. “Sammy?”
“I think a person did this,” he said. Dean rolled his eyes.
“No shit Sherlock. Someone used a knife or-”
“No, jackass,” said Sam, shooting Dean a harsh look for a brief second. “I mean I think this was a human, like an actual human. They were just talking about a cold case like this on a podcast I listened to during my run last week.”
“You and your fucking serial killer obsession,” muttered Dean. Sam’s eye twitched, the tension rising in the room. “It’s fucking weird, Sammy.”
“We hunt monsters, dumbass. How is that any different?”
“That’s our job. You don’t see me watching murder documentaries like a certain someone in my free time.” Sam got closer to Dean, Dean taking one to match, both boy’s jaws clenching. 
“Hey,” you said with a snap of your fingers, the pair reluctantly turning towards you. “Dean, plenty of people are interested in cold cases and as long as Sam isn’t a serial killer himself, his hobby is fine. Sam, Dean just gets concerned that you don’t take enough of a break from hunting but he can’t come out and say that. So hug and make up. You’re on the same side.”
They both grumbled and gave each other a half-assed embraced but it made you smile regardless. 
“So what’d your murder podcast say?” asked Dean, walking around to the other side of the cut open body. Sam’s face soured. “That good, huh?”
“They called them the Pathology Murders. A string of five victims about ten years ago that went unsolved. The killer performed live autopsies like you said about this guy earlier. The only lead they ever had was that the killer must have medical training, like a doctor, based on what they did to the victims. Oh, and all the murders took place in the Seattle area.”
“Which downtown is only twenty minutes from here,” you said, crossing your arms. “Was the heart missing at the other scenes?”
“I’m not sure. They could have skimmed over that,” said Sam. Your gaze followed Dean’s, his green eyes laced with uncertainty. “I can do some research back at the motel. You guys could check in with Seattle PD, see if the case files have anything useful.”
“We should double check that it’s not our kind of monster and if it really is a person-”
“We’re not working this case,” said Dean. Your eyebrows shot up, Sam’s face already frowning. “We do not investigate serial killers. Save it for the police.”
“Uh, what the hell is going on? You would never let a killer, monster or human, stay on the loose,” said Sam.
Dean’s gaze shot to you and quickly away, his eyes turning sharp as they zeroed in on Sam. You scoffed, Sam cocking his head in question.
“It’s because my mom was murdered. By a serial killer. Isn’t it, Dean?” Dean’s lips pressed into a thin hard line and you shook your head. “They caught her killer which you know. What does that have anything to do with-”
“You caught the killer, you did that,” said Dean, Sam completely lost. He knew your mom had been killed but not the gory details like Dean.
“Wouldn’t that be a good thing then?” he asked. “Y/N has experience with this sort of thing then.”
“Why don’t you explain to Sammy just exactly what you did to ‘catch’ her killer then, sweetheart. Go on. I’m sure he’d love to hear it.” You glared at Dean, feeling an unpleasant prickling in your eyes. Dean didn’t back down as you teared up though, instead focusing on Sam. “She let herself be bait. She let herself get caught by the son of a bitch. She almost died because she doesn’t see when she’s going too far with serial killers. The same thing happened on that Tulsa case five years ago.”
You could sense Sam had shifted very quickly to being on Dean’s side of this argument. You’d been young and reckless with your mom’s killer, barely a day over eighteen. That was years and years ago. You’d learned since then to use more sense. Tulsa…well your plan as being bait would have worked if your former hunting partner hadn’t been more focused on getting some ass that night than watching your back.
“Yeah, that’s how we met, Sam. Not working a case. No, Y/N was fucked and if I hadn’t been driving back from Jody’s that night and saw the fucking asshole grab her, she’d be dead. Wouldn’t you?” Dean snarled. You narrowed your misty eyes at him, Dean lifting his chin. “We will make sure this isn’t our kind of deal and if it is in fact a run of the mill serial killer, we are getting the fuck out of here, understand me?”
“I fucked up once. Once,” you breathed out. You swallowed thickly, wiping off your face with your jacket sleeve. “Just how many times have you been kidnapped Dean in the five years that I’ve known you? I’ve been taken once. You? How many times have I cut you loose? Taken out the monster with a knife to your throat? A gun to your head? How many times have you gotten lost in a case? Gone on a rampage? I never realized we were keeping score.”
Dean’s gaze fell to the floor, his hand running over his jaw, searching for the right words.
“Sam, go back to the motel and research. Dean and I’ll do the fed schitk and get the files we can. Whoever’s behind this, I’m going after them. You two can do whatever the hell you want,” you said, storming out of the room and out of the house.
“You look pretty,” said Dean softly a few hours later as you exited the motel bathroom in your fed suit, a light blue button down blouse with your charcoal gray suit jacket and pants. You ignored him as you dug through your duffel for your pointed black booties. Professional but also you knew for a fact you could run and fight in them. You growled in frustration when you couldn’t find them though, hearing Dean clear his throat behind your back. You glanced over your shoulder, following Dean’s gaze to where he’d set them down by the end of the bed.
“Thanks,” you grumbled, slipping them on and pulling up the side zipper. Dean was sporting his navy suit today, the one he looked extra hot in. You ignored that fact as you tucked your gun into the back of your pants, fixing your suit jacket over it.
“Y/N.” You sighed, giving him a look that you really didn’t want to do this right now. He took a long breath, sitting down on the edge of the bed. Sam quietly slinked out of the room into his adjoining one. Most of the time the three of you shared but when you could swing it, Sam got his own next door to give you and Dean some privacy.
Privacy you didn’t necessarily want at this moment.
“You do good cop, I’ll be the hardass if it comes to it,” you said, shoving your phone in your pocket. You tried to walk past him for the door but he caught your hand, stopping you after a few feet. “Dean.”
“I do not, and have never, thought you were weak. But serial killers are a blindspot for you. Sam and I both have them. This is yours.” He lowered his head, like he was fighting the words that were coming out. 
To your surprise, he dropped your hand and stood. 
“Be careful on this one, sweetheart.” He walked past you to the motel door, cracking it open and pausing. “We should get going.”
“You sure I’m not going to lose it? Get too carried away and get myself captured?” you said, unable to stop from poking back after his earlier insinuations. Dean’s shoulders rose and fell, one hand going to the doorframe to grip it as you watched the back of his head lower.
“Y/N, don’t you know by now I’m an idiot that’d rather lose you because I’m a dick than find you in the hands of some monster like whoever did that to that poor guy? Don’t you know I know you’re stronger than me? Don’t you think I realize how hard it is to be with someone like me?”
“You don’t stop Sam from doing dangerous things,” you said. “You don’t bring up the past to him.”
“Yes I have,” he said quietly. “And convincing Sam to stay in a motel room where it’s safe to research has never been hard thankfully.”
“You don’t treat me with the same respect though,” you said softly. “It hurts to know you never will think of me as being as capable as he is all because I’m your girlfriend.”
Dean shook his head, straightening his back. “You are more than capable, sweetheart. But sometimes…I just want to be a man that protects his girl. I don’t want to be scared of failing you for once…because if that monster got anywhere near you…”
You took quiet steps over to him, staring at his broad shoulders as they sagged.
“Eventually everyone I love dies or has something awful happen to them. Maybe I don’t say it the right way but fucking hell, all I want is for those things to not happen to you.” He spun around, green eyes full of worry. You nodded, taking his hand and lacing your fingers together. He squeezed them gently, the warmth of it pleasant.
“Our job is dangerous, Dean. We hunt the monsters, supernatural or not. I love you but you don’t get to keep me locked away.” You ran your thumb over his scuffed up skin, still healing form last week’s hunt. “That said…I promise not to get so angry if you promise to just say you’re scared for me. We’ll figure it out, okay?”
“Okay,” he said, a flicker of a smile on his face. “I just have a bad feeling about this one.”
“Then we’ll be smart, okay?” You leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “And don’t call yourself an idiot. I don’t like it.”
“Okay, sweetheart,” he said. “Let’s go figure out what the hell is going on.”
Two Hours Later
“This guy’s a fucking psycho,” you said into your phone while Dean came outside with a bag of burgers and fries. “Apparently he sends the hearts to the victims families in a little box with a bow.”
“Sounds about right for a guy who cuts people open for fun,” said Sam on the other end. “I’m gonna pour through the records you just sent over.”
“Alright. Dean and I should be back in fifteen-”
“Why don’t you guys have a date night? I got this for a few hours.” You bit your bottom lip, Sam’s silence going on. “Come on, Y/N. You guys should talk about Dean’s protectiveness and your stubbornness.”
You wanted to argue that fact but sighed, closing your eyes.
“Any suggestions on how we find that line when our job is to hunt killers?” you asked.
“Maybe remember that he’s your boyfriend first, hunting partner second. Most boyfriends wouldn’t want their girlfriend near a serial killer either, no matter what their job.”
“Don’t have good points, Samuel,” you said as Dean took a seat next to you on Baby’s hood. “We’ll be back in two hours.”
You hung up and dove your hand into the bag of fries, smirking when Dean presented you with a chocolate milkshake. He grinned as you dipped the fry in it and tossed it back, giving him a big thumbs up.
“I love you,” you said, Dean smiling as he dug out his burger. “I always love you, even when we fight.”
He glanced at you, landing a gentle kiss on your lips in the next moment. He barely moved his lips, letting them linger instead. He moved back only an inch and nodded. “I was a dickhead earlier. All because I’m afraid of finding you with a serial killer standing over you with a giant ass knife again. I don’t know why I can’t just come out and say that shit in the moment.”
“Because you’re human,” you said, wrapping an arm around his waist. “And you’re so much better at talking to me than five years ago. The old you wouldn’t have even been able to say that to me.”
“I try,” he said, letting you kiss him, your own a tad more forceful than his had been.
“That’s all I ask for,” you said, Dean’s phone going off at that exact moment. He sighed as he took it out, Sam’s name appearing. He tapped it onto speaker and took a bite of his burger. “What’s up Sammy?”
“Guys, I think I figured something out. All the victims were patients at Mercy West hospital back in the day and this latest guy? He was a patient there last week.” You and Dean shared a frown. “Yeah, I know. The cops investigated all of the hospital staff there back then but they never came up with anything. They thought maybe a doctor was behind it but he died in a car accident between the second and third vics.”
“It could have been him and he had a partner. Definitely is someone with access to records so they have to work there,” said Dean as you held up a finger. “What?”
“I could have sworn I’ve heard about this hospital in the news before. Something to do with a boat accident?” you asked. You heard Sam typing loudly before he hummed.
“Yup. They made national news about six months ago when seven of their medical students died in a boating accident. Explosion apparently when they got boozed up and had a bonfire on the boat. The bodies were so bad they couldn’t identify the remains,” said Sam. Dean took another bite of his burger and swallowed. “Already checking through the police files. Shit.”
“Shit what, Sam?” you asked, dunking a fry in your milkshake.
“Shit as in the boat accident wasn’t an accident at all. There was definitely an explosion but they found damage on the bodies indicating some injuries occurred before death. Like being carved up alive. They don’t want the public knowing the killer is still active in the area.”
“It’s gotta be someone linked to that hospital. Only question is why can’t the police figure out who?” asked Dean.
“Good question,” said Sam. “I’m going to keep digging, see if there’s a connection between the two we missed.”
“Thanks Sammy. We’ll be back in twenty to help,” said Dean, hanging up. He glanced at you, biting the inside of his cheek.
“This isn’t a monster,” you said quietly. “At least, it’s a human one.”
Dean polished off the rest of his meal quietly, the air still for a few beats. 
“When you get too worried about me on hunts, you put yourself in danger,” you said, slowly sipping from the shake. His heated gaze was on you as you handed him the drink. “You have to trust that I’m strong enough to do this. Careful and capable. We both need to work on that.”
“Alright. But do me a favor? Stick close to me or Sammy on this one. You’re just…” You waited, let him find his words. He took the drink and finished it off, shoving the trash in the bag. “You just got over that shoulder injury. Your punches don’t hit as hard as normal right now. I don’t mean that in a bad way, just-”
“Okay,” you said, finding his hand, slipping yours inside. “Now let’s figure out who this bastard is.”
He hummed, letting go of you for a brief moment so he could toss the garbage away. You slid inside the passenger seat, Dean back and behind the wheel after the blink of an eye. Approximately ten seconds later you were pulling out of the parking lot and on the road, headed down main street and for the motel.
“So I was thinking this guy does autopsies on victims right?” said Dean, turning the radio down low on a soft rock station. You glanced out the window on the dark night, a rumble of thunder overhead. “But the cops can’t find him. Well, isn’t there someone that sometimes works at hospitals and for the police that would be able to fuck with a body after the fact and hide traces of their involvement?”
“A pathologist. I was thinking that too but wouldn’t that have been their first look? I mean they literally call them the Pathology Murders,” you said, waiting for the the light to turn green. “It could be someone that knows someone at the department covering for them. Stranger things have happened.”
“Maybe. I get the gist this guy works alone though. I only clocked one set of boots at the scene this morning,” he said, the bright green light illuminating the dark interior.
“Same. It’s absolutely someone associated with that damn hospital-” you said, Dean’s arm shooting in front of you in your peripheral. A millisecond later, something slammed into the right side of Baby, your side. Your lap belt tugged on you hard as your body lolled to the side, weightless for a moment before gravity reared it’s ugly head and slammed you down. Your head smacked something hard and it all went dark.
You could hear Dean asking a paramedic a million questions, not a single one concerned about himself. You opened your eyes to find yourself in the back of an ambulance, Dean lying on a stretcher beside you. He could tell you were awake and struggled to reach over to you but couldn’t. Instead he thrashed his head back against his pillow in defeat, straining against the straps that held him down.
“Sir, I need you to calm down,” said the paramedic as you blinked slowly at Dean. You knew something was wrong with you, with both of you, but you weren’t quite sure what that was yet. You struggled when you saw Dean upset. You wanted him to feel better. “You need to relax, she’s seeing you panic and that’s making her do the same.”
Dean stopped as he took in how your heart rate had skyrocketed, how scared you looked. He sighed and forced himself to stay calm. You saw him relax and heard him say it was okay. Neither of you enjoyed the feeling of being tied down, especially when the both of you were in plain view of one another and couldn’t reach each other. You tried to speak but couldn’t as you felt how raw your throat was. 
“We’ll be at Mercy West in just a few minutes,” said the paramedic to Dean as you half-listened. 
“No, take us somewhere else!” yelled Dean suddenly, fighting again. The paramedic sighed as you both started struggling once more. You didn’t have much of an idea of what was going on but if Dean didn’t want to go there, it wasn’t safe. 
“I’m going to give each of you a sedative and by the time you wake up, you’ll be in your hospital beds feeling a lot better,” he said gently. 
“No, don’t you touch her,” said Dean as you started to get very sleepy. The last thing you saw was Dean shutting his eyes as you finally remembered what had happened.
If Sam didn’t get to you soon, you were screwed.
Your eyes wearily opened under bright lights that made your head hurt. You winced and turned away from it, limbs heavy and still. Dean’s voice echoed somewhere, to your left maybe? You forced your eyes open again, Dean strapped down to a metal table with metal drawers behind him, the look on his face like he was screaming at you. You blinked, the ringing in your eyes loud and obnoxious, droning him out.
“Get up, fucking get up!” Dean shouted so loud you shook your head, a splitting headache cracking over you. “Y/N get out of here!” 
It took only a moment to discover that unlike Dean, you weren’t restrained in what was most likely the hospital morgue. Something was wrong though. A sedative? No. You were becoming more alert if anything but your arms were growing more tired, head becoming too heavy to lift.
“Something’s off,” you tried to say, the words caught in your throat, unable to be voiced. Your eyes flared wide, Dean’s drifting past you.
“Someone took a long time to wake up,” said a voice to your right. Suddenly a hand was under your head.
“Don’t you fucking touch her!” Dean snarled, your head set on a…stand? Something to keep it elevated and from rolling to the side. You tried to move but the message wasn’t getting to your body, your eyes glued on the handsome face with a just slightly off smile leaning over you.
“You were in a nasty accident, Agent Carlson. Unfortunately for you, your head trauma was too severe and you coded in the ER. Meanwhile Agent Manns in his grief unfortunately succumbed to his injuries. At least that’s what the autopsy report will say,” he said, inspecting what felt like a cut on your temple. “Such a shame. It won’t be my best work but you’re not the first law enforcement to cross me. Sadly no one will be able to discover your remains once you’re accidentally incinerated as John and Jane Doe but it’s good practice.”
“Let her go you fucking psycho,” growled Dean when the doctor moved out of view and returned with a pair of shears. 
“Psycho? I’m Dr. Thomas, ER Trauma physician and part-time pathologist. I’ve saved far more lives than I’ve taken, Agent Manns,” he said, snipping through your blouse. 
“What the fuck did you do to her?” Dr. Thomas bagged your shirt in a plastic bag nearby, doing the same with your pants and boots once they’d been removed.
“Paralyzing agent. Hard to come by but it has it’s advantages. No messy straps or ropes in the way,” he said, lifting your arm as you watched helplessly, cold metal against your skin as he cut through your bra straps.
“I swear to god I’m going to rip your spine out of your fucking face. If you touch her-”
“Not my style,” said Dr. Thomas, pulling away the fabric, sending a chill down your back. He gave you his focus again, a smirk on his face as he put two fingers to your neck. “Your heart is hammering away, isn’t it? Biology is fascinating that way. It’s so strange how an emotion such as fear can cause physical reactions in our bodies.”
“Get the fuck away from her!” shouted Dean. Dr. Thomas’ smile towards you dropped when he looked at Dean. He sighed and set the shears down, walking out of view.
“You’re really starting to irritate me,” he said, the distinct sound of tape being ripped from a roll filling the room and then Dean’s cries became muffled, only quiet thumping as he struggled coming from him now. Dr. Thomas appeared again wearing another smile. “Sorry about that. It’s always the men that get all squirmy. The women always live longer. Now, one could argue that’s because women have on average more blood in their bodies than men but I’ve gotten a fairly large sample size over the past decade to believe they’re psychologically stronger and therefore last longer.”
You tried hard to move your hand when he held up a scalpel near your face but nothing worked. 
Fuck if you could move anything you’d be shaking harder than a tree in a damn hurricane. Dean struggling right beside you with a front row seat was not helping.
“Now I like to explain all of my procedures to my patients beforehand. While you are paralyzed to a degree, you will still feel things. That’s perfectly normal.” You were wide eyed, Dr. Thomas chuckling. “The procedure typically takes me around thirty minutes. However, you’ll die from the blood loss or shock after roughly seven so don’t worry about that aspect. Considering you were in an accident less than an hour ago, I suspect it’s more like four or five for you which is unfortunate for me but it is what it is. Perhaps Agent Manns will give me more time.”
He lowered the scalpel to your shoulder and dug in hard to the skin, dragging it inward towards your chest. Your scream was caught in your throat as he did it on the other side to match.
Dean was shouting and thrashing on the table beside you but you couldn’t even turn your head to look. Dr. Thomas started talking about incisions and procedures and then you felt something completely unnatural against your arm, another shout trapped in your lungs. Forget the brave face. You would have been full on wailing if you were capable of it.
Crack. Snap. Shudder. Rip. It was around the time that Dr. Thomas held up something dark red and sticky looking that your body decided passing out was the best course of action. Unfortunately, it wasn’t doing that for some reason and you were stuck on the edge of consciousness, terrified and wishing something would come along and smash your head in to end this.
A loud bang shot out and something heavy smacked your leg, something else skirting against your side. 
“Dear god,” whispered Sam. Your eyes were locked open as you heard Sam rush over, staring down at you for only a split second before he moved to Dean. 
That was not good. You were far more injured that Dean, somewhere on the verge of death if you figured. Sam would have stopped to help you first.
Unless you were beyond saving.
“Sweetheart,” said Dean, grabbing one of your blood covered hands in both of his. Fuck he was crying. Fuck, fuck, fuck. You were so totally fucked. He looked over to Sam, Sam staring back with an open mouth. They couldn’t fix this. Shit, shit. You were going to die cut open like a Thanksgiving turkey. “W-What about Cas?”
“Dean,” said Sam, an air of resignation in his voice. “He’s in Kansas.”
“Jack then.”
“He’s with Cas. He doesn’t know how to-”
“A spell, a cure, something! Take her upstairs to a fucking doctor!” shouted Dean. 
“De. Half of her organs are…” said Sam as you got light headed, Dean’s hand running over your head. Dean found your face, his chin wobbling. “I-I don’t know what to do.”
“Then we sit with our girl,” said Dean softly, tucking a hair behind your ear. “And you fall asleep, sweetheart and when you wake up again, you’ll feel all better. I’ll come find you someday. Okay? Just close your eyes and try to sleep for me.”
Dean lowered his head, kissing your forehead as he fought back the tears that wanted to spill over. Sam took your other hand, squeezing it gently as you tried to do what he asked.
“Bloody hell, of course a Winchester took out a nutter like that. I’d have thunk he deserved more than a bullet,” said a familiar voice. 
“Rowena?” both boys echoed. She didn’t respond though, Sam’s hand dropping yours as a flash of red hair moved in front of you. You stared up at her, her hands cradling your cheeks.
“Dean, let go.” He did and about two seconds later you were shot straight upright, body in one piece, full of feeling and horror as you wrapped your arms over your chest, looking all around. 
“What the hell was that?” asked Sam while Dean shrugged out of his fed jacket and wrapped it around your shoulders, buttoning you up before he picked you up and was cradling you in his arms.
Rowena faced him with a hand on her hip, your own gaze falling down to where a dead Dr. Thomas lay on the floor, blood oozing from the back of his open head.
“Do you boys still not see me as a friend?” she asked, an undercurrent of hurt in her voice. You were shaking in Dean’s arms, clutching to his shirt with your too long sleeves. 
“You’re the queen of hell. Why would you stop a death?” asked Sam. She rolled her eyes and approached you, resting a hand on your arm.
“Because I’m the queen of hell and I do as I please, Samuel.” You wanted to say thank you but all you could manage was a few jumbled words as you buried yourself in Dean’s neck. “She’s in shock, quite bad. Best to take her home and let her rest.”
“Thank you Rowena,” said Dean, walking past her, stopping near the entrance to the room. “Next time you need something, just let us know and we’ll help.”
“Of course. I’ll take care of this mess. Oh and Y/N, dear?” You managed to lift your head, grateful to find Sam was right on Dean’s heels. “This lad is going to be spending a lot of time on the receiving end of what he gave out up here down in hell. I promise you that.”
You nodded, giving her a thumbs up. Dean kissed the top of your head, his hold on you tight.
“You’re going to be alright, sweetheart. Just give it some time.”
“How’s that feel?” asked Dean for what felt like the twentieth time back at the motel. You’d showered, took another another shower, took a bath, took another shower and currently were wrapped up in a mess of Dean’s pajamas on the bed with a big towel in your hair. 
“Better,” you said, your voice back with you once you’d gotten out of the hospital morgue. Sam was off relaying what he’d found to the local police. Apparently Dr. Thomas had worked on a few cases for the county but his sister it turned out was a hot shot detective who’d been covering for him for years. It was how he’d found out about you and Dean investigating.
Honestly that woman would be better off going out like her brother. She’d covered up a lot of murders for her brother. It’d be a miracle if someone didn’t take her out before then. Not that you particularly would mind that. 
You patted the bed beside you, Dean taking a seat and pulling you into his lap. He removed the damp towel and nuzzled the top of your head with his cheek, strong arms wrapped all around your body.
“So we really nailed that whole careful thing, huh?” you said. Dean chuckled deeply, inhaling the scent of your damp hair, a pretty lilac and vanilla blend you knew he liked. 
“How do you do that? Make me laugh when I don’t feel like ever laughing again,” he said, tightening his hold.
“Because I’m hilarious,” you said, closing your eyes, wrapping your hands around his forearms. “You might not understand this but what you said when I thought…you made me feel safe even when I was scared that was it. You were a guy protecting his girl tonight, even if it’s not the way you meant it.”
“Meant every word,” he whispered, breathing slowly. 
“Don’t you dare fucking apologize for not stopping it. There’s no way we saw that coming.”
“Okay,” he said, draping his legs over yours, leaning back against the headboard with you. “How’s that feel? Comfy?”
You smiled as you rolled your eyes at him, tucking in closer. “I got you, Winchester. I’ll be alright. A chocolate milkshake and order of fries wouldn’t hurt though.”
“You’re hungry? After all that?” he chuckled. 
“Yup. Ask Sam to pick some up on his way back,” you said, tilting your head back, kissing under his jaw. “Our date got cut short after all.”
“Are you sure you’re okay? You couldn’t talk earlier,” he said, taking your hand, lacing your fingers together.
“I’ll have nightmares, I’m sure, and all the other crap we get. But right now in this moment, with you, I’m okay.” He smiled, holding your body against his.
“I love you so much. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. Even if you do get kidnapped by serial killers.” You whacked his leg, Dean’s laugh rumbling against your back.
“Love you too, ya dork.”
_________
541 notes · View notes
moonstruck-poet · 4 months
Text
The Confrontation
Pairing - Kaz Brekker x reader!
Summary - three times where the Crows find you two in suspicious situations leading them to conspire and the fourth time when they learn the truth.
Warnings - Assault, Harrassment
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1. Nina
"You ready?" Nina Zenik questioned, quickly giving the surroundings a scan before pinning her eyes on you. "The minute Kaz joins us, you have to leave".
You exhaled and nodded, trying your best not to wince at the obnoxiously tight corset and trying to breathe properly. "Was this the only available option?"
"Thr most suitable option," she corrected and smirked after looking at you.
"Stop checking me out when I'm literally struggling to breathe, Zenik. Remind me why is it not you instead of me? Saints know you're better at this," you grumbled and shivered as the cold hair brushed against your off shoulder gown.
"Because unfortunately I'm the Heartrender here, aren't I?" She grinned and you glared, understanding that this was quite amusing. "Ah! There's your ticket," she nodded towards Kaz who was stumbling his way towards you, slightly out of breath.
"Here it goes," you sighed, smoothing your outfit. Somehow this simply seemed a much difficult job that gutting someone in the right place. Using a knife was just easier.
Kaz, now much closer gave you a nod, his eyes glinting as he gripped his cane tightly and you understood. You merely smiled softly before shooting Nina a wink and entered the club, your eyes immediately narrowing down on the target.
Your brain was replaying all of the tricks that your dear friend had so graciously shown. You weren't dumb of course, you knew the basics but she had a degree in flirting.
And so you braced yourself and appeared in front of the man, trying to hide a cringe when his gaze instantly swept over your physique shamelessly. A small flame of anger burned internally and you would be sure to use your favorite dagger very soon.
Meanwhile Kaz and Nina were sneakily observing from the window while also keeping an eye on the environment.
"She seems to be getting the required information," Nina exclaimed but her smile soon fell upon seeing the scene. "Oh Saints no," she whispered and Kaz, who had his back to the window whipped around.
His dark, dangerous stare found you with ease and his body tensed at your uncomfortable face that you were trying so desperately to hide.
He saw the way that man pulled you closer with every passing second until you were pressed flat against him, his foul breath staining your bare shoulders as your body shook with contained fury.
His fingers skimmed your skin while his lips brushed against your cheek and all Kaz wanted to do in that moment was to stride inside and take you out of his grasp.
But he was still talking, his lips moved and so did yours. You were still trying to wrangle every little piece of information you could possibly get while also trying to keep yourself safe.
"Kaz," Nina said urgently upon seeing the malicious smile on the stranger's face. "That's enough she needs to come out".
"I can't do anything," he said bitterly. "It'll just give out our position and put everybody in danger and I cannot have that," he finished, hating every part of himself.
"I like you, sweetheart," your target whispered, his face inches away. His breath fanning you, reeking of alcohol. "I wish to see you again. Please?" He asked, his voice manipulative and he dragged his lips from your shoulder to your neck.
"Of course," you murmured back, your tone deadly which he didn't seem to notice. "You'll see me soon. Very soon indeed".
"Perfect," he grinned against your cheek before kissing the skin and you stepped back with a smile, not breaking eye contact until you exited the door.
And immediately your flirty facade shattered and your were consumed by a dark energy as you rounded the corner, your pace increasing with every step.
"Oh Saints," Nina said as soon as you reached the meeting spot. "Are you alright?"
"Of course I am," you teased, a wicked smile but Kaz wasn't fooled, not at all.
He looked at you, trying to pick up every noticeable change and he sae many. The twitch of your eyebrow, the small frown appearing on your lips which was quickly replaced with a grin and the slight shudder of your shoulders.
He didn't think of anything at all as he removed his coat. "Here," he offered, his dark brown eyes burning into yours.
"It's okay, Kaz, I'm alright-"
"-Take it," he said firmly and when you didn't move, he put it over your shoulders and you almost sighed at the warmth. His touch was so gentle, so secure, a constrast to the emotions plaguing you moments before. "Are you okay?" He asked again.
"I want to go home," was all you could reply as you looked longingly at him, hoping that your eyes were enough to convey all of your feelings. "Please".
Kaz nodded, looking down as pain struck his chest. He could handle numerous difficult situations, but when it concerned you, he was always vulnerable.
"I'm sorry," he said lowly, his voice barely heard as he scanned your face, having an intense urge to place his palm on your cheek but the mere thought made him flinch. However he remained rooted to the spot, not backing away because he knew that you needed him at the present, and he wasn't leaving you.
Someone cleared her throat and that was what made him pull away.
"Extremely sorry but we have to move," she said softly and he nodded, his jaw clenching as he gave you one last, tender look before walking away.
The two of you followed and you clutched the coat around you tightly, a small smile threatening to break out on your face as you replayed the interaction with your dearest.
Meanwhile the Grisha was observing her friends quite eagerly, her eyes switching from one to the other. She had her suspicions from the minute she saw Kaz's panic-stricken face, and then the said person lending his coat confirmed it.
She saw his face contorting in sadness upon seeing your highly uneasy figure back at the club, saw the way his fingers fidgeted constantly because he felt helpless. In conclusion, she saw him lose control.
Kaz Brekker never lost control.
She should feel guilty for using her abilities on her boss, but how could she not? When a particular heart was thudding unbelievably as soon as his eyes fell onto someone else's. The beating had only seemed to intensify when he had put his coat around your shoulders.
The trip to the Crow Club was spent in silence. Everyone's mind being occupied by very different thoughts.
"There you are!" Jesper's cheery voice snapped them from their daydream. He slowly jogged over to you, excitement evident on his features. "Want to play a round of cards?"
All you gave him was a small, forced smile. He just looked so happy and you didn't want to be that person, "Let's go then".
"You don't have to," Kaz suddenly spoke making everyone stare in surprise.
"It's fine," you replied but he still gave you that look. The one where his eyes were just a tiny bit wide, eyebrows slightly raised to wordlessly ask if you were sure.
You nodded offering him a twitch of your lips before joining Jesper, Wylan and Inej at the table, helping yourself to some bread.
Nina had of course watched this soundless interaction quite seriously, and now she had some very interesting points that would definitely be shared with the other Crows; minus you two obviously.
"Now this seems fun," she said to herself, smirking at the way Dirtyhands had his eyes glued to you the entire time.
===============================
2. Wylan & Matthias
Having a lazy day at the barrel was something that happened once in a blue moon, because Mr Brekker made sure to always keep everyone on their toes. Today was one of those rarest days that the Crows actually had no job and so naturally they were lazing around in the club.
Jesper and Nina were gossiping, holding a small muffin in their hands as they whispered amongst themselves, probably sharing the headlines of all that had happened in the Barrel.
"You're sure? Our Kaz? Kaz Brekker losing control like that?" Jesper asked, double checking to make sure they were talking about the same person.
"Yes Jesper!" Nina sighed. "His heartbeat seemed to skyrocket the minute his eyes fell on her. I wss actually worried that he might have a cardiac arrest or something.
"Djel help me," Matthias muttered. "She's too good for him to ever say yes".
"Oh come on," Nina insisted, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "They're made for each other!"
"I don't know about that but they do make quite a pair," Inej added, her face screwed up in concentration.
"There's definitely something going on," Wylan whispered, putting on his scheming face as he analysed his thoughts.
Meanwhile Nina was now feeding another round of conversation to her gossip partner who was enjoying it very much indeed.
"No way he went over to the Dime Lions!" Jesper exclaimed mid-bite, his mouth opening as he registered the statement.
"He did indeed Jes," you walked down the stairs interrupting their conversation. "Rumour had it that he was paid handsomely as well".
"Of course he was," the gunslinger snorted before shaking his head.
"Where were you?" Nina asked, her eyebrow raised in question and all four heads turned to hear your answer.
"Kaz's office," you said and sat down on one of the couch, not noticing the small smirks painted on everybody's faces.
"What's he doing in there anyway?" Inej asked, having sharpened her knives and taking yours making you shoot her a highly grateful look.
But before you could reply, the said person called from from above, "Love! Have you seen that Kerch document that I had shown you? Where did you keep it?"
Silence. Complete and utter silence followed his statement as the Crows glanced at each other, their expressions the epitome of flabbergasted.
"Check in your bottom right drawer!" You shouted unaware, standing right below the floor so your voice could be heard better. "I've kept it along with other related files".
The minute you went back to your previous seat, you felt eyes staring at every inch of your face making you suddenly look up. "What the hell?" You asked, being startled at seeing every gaze pinned towards you.
"Did he just-" Jesper began but Wylan elbowed him harshly.
"Nothing," he answered sweetly, ignoring the sharp glare thrown his way. "How about we go visit the marketplace? You said you'd show me some firing powders".
"Yeah let's go," you nodded, putting your gun in the holster and donning a black leather jacket over your shirt. "Anybody need anything? I'm not going to get you fruit loops, Jesper," you narrowed your eyes before the boy could even utter a word.
"But you told me that-"
"But you also happened to have eaten three packets yesterday. So no. Absolutely not".
Inej and Nina snickered at the banter which was surely an everyday occurence. Jesper always being the hopeless little kid and you unintentionally acting like his older sister.
The said boy was looking at you with wide eyes and a small pout and you groaned in exasperation. "Fine! I'll get you some stop looking at me like that!"
"I love you so much," he grinned and shot a wink your way.
"Whom do you love?" Kaz Brekker asked, walking down the stairs and towards him with a raised eyebrow. Everybody fell silent at his impeccable timing to arive during the most unwelcoming moments.
"Her of course!" Nina butted in, pointing towards you before Jesper could reply and Matthiss noticed the way the Demjin's face contorted and tightened.
Kaz shot the Zemeni a small glare, not knowing himself that he was actually doing it before turning to look at you and all of the other crows saw the way his gaze softened considerably.
"Should we leave then?" Wylan broke the silence and tugged at your sleeve and your attention snapped to him.
"Yes yes let's leave," you followed him, almost at the door when Kaz called your name and you halted. "What's wrong? You need anything?" You questioned softly as he walked closer.
"You forgot this," he merely said and handed you a necklace that you had forgotten on his desk. It was only Wylan who actually saw the pendant and his mouth hung open.
You took it from his hands, fingers gently brushing against his gloved ones and he instantly felt a small amount of warmth seep into his very soul.
You lit a spark with only your touch.
You ignited him.
"Thank you," you smiled and quickly clasped it around your neck, tucking it inside your shirt so it would be hidden from privy eyes. "See you later, yeah?"
He nodded, hands tightening on his cane as he watched you leave. He never got round to telling you that he had wanted to spend this day with you and you only. But unfortunately you had plans and so he remained silent. Not wanting to be a hindrance.
He couldn't even remember the last time he had spent some quality time with you. Being too busy finding new deals and searching for missions that he couldn't properly acknowledge the best thing in his life.
When did he last take you out somewhere except for sneaking around to gather valuable information? You loved having hot chocolate late at night, when had he ever bought it for you despite knowing that the drink was your favorite?
You deserved so much better, his mind kept telling him. He couldn't even bring himself to give you the comforting touches that he knew you longed for. You never said a word but he saw it in your eyes. Whenever a plan had gone too complicated and particularly difficult, all you needed was a good embrace. But he could only ever bring himself to hold your hand. Nothing more.
And he hated himself for it. Despised every inch of his self because of his inability to provide for you. It killed him inside.
You were lovely and brave and better than anything he deserved. And he was twisted, crooked, wrong but not so broken that he couldn't pull himself together into some semblance of a man for you.
He was so lost in his thoughts that his sharp instincts failed to notice the stares that were currently burning holes in his face. "What?" He snapped and was on his way back to his bedroom when they stopped him.
"Goodness Kaz you actually look sad," Nina concluded, fighting the smirk that was quick to spread on her face.
"I have no reason to be upset," he rolled his eyes and started climbing the stairs slowly, his leg throbbing with slight pain.
"Wylan's right," Matthias said lowly. "The demjin is infatuated".
Wylan on the other hand was busy geeking over the chemicals that were presented in front of him. "How did I never know about this!" He said in delight and you chucklef at the way his eyes lighted up. "These are so much cheaper too".
"Get whatever you want," you squeezed his shoulder and he nearly jumped in excitement. "I'll just quickly go and get something from that shop, yeah?"
He nodded and you crossed the street to enter the clothing shop, smiling to yourself upon seeing beautiful coats lining the walls.
"Can I see some black shirts and vests, please?" You requested the man who nodded and placed numerous boxes on the table. "I'll take these three," you smiled, selecting two dark grey shirts and a gorgeous black vest that you knew would suit your man well.
"Oh hey! Didn't see you coming in".
Wylan simply laughed and examined the clothes that were being folded neatly and transferred in a bag. "For you?"
"Oh no," you shook your head and paid the kruge, it was a little expensive but it's fine. You could give him a gift every now and then. "It's for Kaz".
His eyes widened in surprise just a tiny bit and his lips stretched wide as the two of you exited the store. But then he suddenly grabbed your hand and pulled you towards an artefacts shop.
"How would this look on Jesper?" He said and pointed at a hat which was exactly what the gunslinger preferred.
"Absolutely perfect".
"Hey take a look at this," he directed your attention towards a few bracelets kept neatly in a box, making sure to keep his trained on you to pick up on every little change.
Your hand instinctively flew towards a handmade one woven with black thread. It was quite simple but had an intricate design. You loved it immediately and wasted no time in purchasing the little present.
"Let's go?" You asked, almost forgetting for a moment that you weren't alone. While the boy had his arms crossed and a knowing smile on his face as he followed your lead. Having an intense conversation with himself in his head.
It was almost night when you entered the Slat again and two of the Crows were lounging in the basement itself with the exception of Inej and Nina.
"I'll be back in a few," you whispered to Matthias who nodded and you climbed up thr stairs, eagerly wanting to give Kaz the gifts you had brought.
He waited until the sound of a door closing was heard before looking at Wylan who had a cheeky grin on his face.
===============================
3. Inej & Jesper
"Look at his hand!" Matthias whispered under his breath and nudged Wylan whose eyes shot towards Kaz Brekker. And indeed, a black bracelet was clasped onto his left wrist. Not that noticeable but nowadays nothing could ever escape their sharp stare.
"I've never ever seen him wear anything synonymous to jewellery," Matthias muttered and passed the message to Nina who perked up with a bright grin, as though struck by an inspiration.
"Watch me," was all she said and the the two boys glanced ahead in apprehension as she neared your location and bumped into you quite harshly.
"Saints!" A small shout escaped your lips as you were thrown backwards onto Kaz who was right behind you.
"Goodness I'm so sorry," Nina immediately apologised, not being sorry in the least as she rather scanned the couple's reaction.
Your back was pressed against Kaz's chest while his gloved hand, the one wearing a bracelet was wrapped securely around your waist, holding you against him. You placed your palm on top of his in reassurance, and your heart started taking up its pace.
"You okay?" He murmured in your ear and helped you stand up straight as you nodded; and he shot a deathly glare towards the heartrender, who gave a grin and sashayed her way back to the boys.
"I'm fine, thank you for that," you whispered before returning to the documents that were scattered on the table.
"You saw that?" She joined the duo with an excited expression, her hands flapping in front of her. "He didn't even flinch at her touch! It was almost like-"
"Like he's used to it!" Wylan completed her sentence and she nodded enthusiastically.
"Usually he'll push the person off for even invading his personal space, much less someone actually falling on him," Matthias added and she agreed.
"Ghezen this is going much better than I expected. Fifty kruge that they're already together since the past few months".
"Oh yeah?" Jesper interrupted the conversation with the biggest smirk on his face as he sat down, joined by Inej who was shaking her head with a smile. "Hundred kruge says that they've been married already".
"You do know that you're horrible at betting, don't you?" Matthias asked, raising an eyebrow at the large sum.
"But I think Jes is right on this one," Inej supported him making the said person's grin widen if that was even possible.
"What's making you so sure?" Wylan asked, quite suspiciously.
"Let me ah- tell you a little something I saw," his brown eyes glinted as he recounted the miracle that he and Inej had seen.
Jesper was walking on his usual route that led him back to the Crow Club with the Wraith beside him. They had both finished their parts of the job and had met on their way home.
"You got some intel?" He asked, his eyes scanning the various treats that were covering the shelves of stalls.
"Nothing," she answered with a sigh. "It is the same. He comes in everyday sharp at 7 in the morning and leaves exactly at 5. There has been no change at all".
"I think I'm going insane," he suddenly whispered and stopped dead in his tracks making Inej tense up immediately as she looked around for any threat.
"What's wrong?"
"That- That's Kaz isn't it?" He questioned, unable to believe the words that were on their way through his mouth. "In a- a goddamn flower shop?"
"Don't be ridiculous," she scoffed lightly but her she too froze upon seeing a familiar figure standing merely a few metres away. "Saints that is Kaz!"
"Let's go," he nudged her and she hesitated, not really wanting to pry but curiosity certainly gets the better of everyone. They walked closer silently, hiding behind another store which gave them the perfect view.
And there he was, the bastard of the barrel holding a beautiful, red rose in his bare fingers. Yes, he did not have his gloves on. Something that was noticed by the two.
They saw as he paid the small amount of money and began trodding down the road, his cane held tightly in one hand and the rose was held in the other that was hidden behind his back.
"Breadcrumbs," Jesper smirked at her and she let out a laugh as the two followed their leader, becoming increasingly suspicious. They didn't have to wait for long as the person that they had expected arrived soon enough making the two Crows grin.
"Nina was right after all," Inej muttered as she watched you waving at Kaz to gain his attention and the spying people stepped closer, wanting to hear the conversation that would surely grant them something.
"Hey," they heard you whisper, sounding slightly breathless.
"Hi," Kaz replied and took a tiny step closer so that his shoes were touching yours making you bite your lip. "This is for you," he added and presented the rose, his eyes hungrily scanning yours for every little change that he itched to see.
And you rewarded him with the grin that he oh so loved. When your mouth fell open slightly in surprise before morphing slowly into a gorgeous and breathtaking smile.
"For me?" You asked despite yourself, gently taking the flower from his hand and twirling it in your fingers. "Are you sure?"
A small frown marked his face, "Of course I am. Why do you ask such a thing?"
"Is it not for someone else? Maybe a pretty girl that you're thinking of wooing to help you get whatever information that you need," you teased, your lips pressed together.
"Darling," was all he said. His voice low, deep as he stared intently into your eyes, tilting his head to look even deeper. "There is no one like you," he finished and let a small smile form on his hardened face.
Jesper who had been listening with every ounce of concentration had to slap his palm over his mouth to prevent a squeal from escaping his feeble clutches. It was only for Inej roughly smacking his arm and dragging him away that he managed to not give away their position.
"Hence proved," he concluded his story with his arms extended to the present crowd who were utterly and completely shocked.
"No way that actually happened," Matthias grumbled, muttering to himself while Nina looked like she'd just received all of the available waffles for free.
"I'm a genius," she laughed heartily and chugged down a shot of whiskey in celebration of her matchmaking skills.
"I'm so going to win that bet, Zenik".
"Don't count your pigeons before they're killed, Fahey. We can't be so sure that they're actually married".
"We have to ask them!" Wylan urged, sitting up straight and looking at them for their opinions.
"We will," Nina nodded firmly while the rest appeared unconvinced. "Tomorrow".
"Let's hope that we're not murdered in our beds later that night then," Jesper sighed but he too couldn't contain his excitement.
===============================
4. The Confrontation
"Kaz," Nina said in delight as soon as the man climbed down the last step.
"Never thought I'd live to see the day when you're actually looking happy to see me," he retorted making her roll her eyes.
"We need to talk," Jesper elaborated making him raise an eyebrow as he took in all of his Crows minus you and Inej sitting with their arms crossed and heads held high.
"Does it concern me?"
"Of course it does that's why we're asking!"
"Saints give me the strength," he muttered under his breath before looking at the lot. "Go on then I don't have all day".
That's when Inej entered the scene, dragging you along with her and making you stand next to Kaz. "What's going on?" You questioned, heavily confused and looking around for an answer.
"We need to ask you something," Wylan answered your request.
"I gathered just as much".
"Are you going to ask or not?" Kaz growled in annoyance, his patience running thin.
"We just wanted to know-"
"I've been wanting to ask-"
"We had a feeling that-"
They all began together but not one could complete their sentence until Jesper was the one to blurt it out.
"You're married?"
Kaz and you stood still, dumbstruck before visibly relaxing and you chuckled, "That was quicker than I expected".
"I don't think four years is quick, love," Kaz responded, his lips stretching just the slightest making the crowd explode.
"FOUR YEARS?!"
"YOU TWO ARE ACTUALLY MARRIED!"
"WHEN DID YOU EVEN START DATING?!"
"HOW ON EARTH DID YOU EVEN MANAGE TO PULL HER OUT OF ALL THE PEOPLE??"
"Ask him about it," was all you said and sat down on a chair with a very obvious smile adorning your pleased face. Everybody fell silent at once and you knew you had said the right thing. Nobody sensible would ever dare to question Kaz.
Jesper glanced nervously at him, "Can I atleast see your ring? Just to you know, have some confirmation?"
You laughed and pulled the necklace out from under your shirt, revealing a thin but elegant silver band encrusted with a small diamond at its center.
"K- Kaz?" Wylan asked, or rather pleaded.
To their surprise, he took off the glove of his right hand to reveal a similar ring resting beautifully against his pale fingers.
"Saints I win!" Jesper said in disbelief and stood up straight, slowly turning his head to look at Nina. "GIVE ME MY KRUGE!" And all watched as the girl slowly backed away, probably hatching an escape plan and ran swiftly with him hot on her heels.
"That was something huh?" You grinned and looked at your husband, slowly leaning over to intertwine your fingers with his.
"Quite," he huffed lightly but couldn't stay annoyed for long and alas, he too smiled. Not a particularly big one, rather a small, gentle twitch of his lips. One that was only ever displayed for you.
His eyes held the entire universe as he admired you from the side, looking at you as if you had hung those few stars that formed his constellation.
===============================
Taglist :-
@phoenix666stuff
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fcthots · 8 months
Note
“I swear to you, that as long as I’m alive I won’t let a single soul ever harm you.” with protective upset and slightly unhinged jason would be so so good oh my god. like if something bad happens to reader and he has to get violent to defend her… yeah.
-🧸
You were on you way home, out later than you should have been, but your friend needed moral support after a breakup and you lost track of time.
Unfortunately while both you & Jason's apartment and your friend's were just off the edge of crime alley, your friend's apartment was on the opposite end of you and Jason. All of this is to say, unless you wanted to be out after midnight, you had to pass through crime alley after dark. It was just a five minute walk there, when daylight spared you of most of the dangers of Gotham, but it was pitch black now. You should have driven, but at the time it didn’t seem necessary.
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.
You walked as fast as possible.
You didn’t even have a purse on you. Your phone was in the leather jacket Jason had bought you as a present and you had 20 dollars stuffed somewhere in your pant pockets.
Were you supposed to turn left here? Yeah, you recognize that streetlamp.
You would call Jason, but your phone is fucking dead and it's not like you were gonna ask your crying friend for a charger. And you didn’t realize how late it had gotten until you stepped outside with no way to get back into your friends apartment.
You were in the home stretch, just in the outskirts of crime alley. Almost freedom.
Never let it be said that you were lucky. All of your luck was used getting your hot ass boyfriend. Luck gone.
The man had a knife and was screaming for your wallet. Your wallet that you did not bring with you.
"Give me the wallet or I'm gonna spill your guts on the fucking ground!"
Just because your boyfriend was scary looking, did not mean you were used to scary men, especially ones that yelled at you. Your hands shook and you weren't sure what to do.
"I don’t have it. All I have is 20 dollars, please."
"That's a fucking lie. I see your jacket. I know that shit is expensive. Lie to me again and I'll slit your throat."
Fuck. If you had to guess, it would be Jason that would find your body. You didn’t want it to be Jason. He wouldn't be able to handle seeing your lifeless eyes. You know what it's like to look into your soulmates lifeless eyes and realize they're gone forever; you were hoping Jason would never have to experience that.
"It's-"
"Tough luck... I guess I could accept other forms of payment."
He bares his teeth in a grin as he sees the look on your face.
"Unless you'd prefer that no one ever finds your body?"
You're really glad you told Jason you loved him before he left for patrol.
The man starts getting closer to you. You can't talk, can't scream, can't think. You were gonna die alone.
You think you mumble out a 'please' before your back hits the wall. His knife was to your throat, but all you could think about was Jason.
There was a bang that you didn’t fully register. Before you could think twice about it, your mugger was on the ground. You didn’t move. You stayed, frozen, silent tears running down your cheeks.
"Shh, it's ok. You're ok. It's me."
You finally focused your eyes and saw the white lenses staring at you, his arms in the air.
You babbled nonsense. You couldn't breathe.
You tried to back away from the man on the floor, but you almost fell. You swore your legs were going to give out. Jason was at your side in less than a second. He lifted you over the bleeding body on the ground, supported your weight as your knees buckled.
He tucked your face into the crook of his neck and you choked on air.
"I've got you. Match my breaths, ok? Good. You're doing great. You're ok, I promise."
All you could manage to get out was his name.
"'M right here. Just breathe. Focus on that for me." His hand cradled the base of your neck.
Eventually you stopped crying. Eventually you could breathe again. Eventually Jason led your face away from his neck to look at you. Your whole body shook. You watched as he drew his hand up to his helmet and heard this hiss and click and he took it off. He took your jaw in one of his hands.
He wiped the splattered blood and tears off your cheeks with a gloved hand, traced the trail of fresh blood and broken skin on your neck from where the knife was pressed against you. “I swear to you, that as long as I’m alive I won’t let a single soul ever harm you.”
You looked into his eyes as they flashed an inhuman green, and you believed him.
Bonus:
"Wait, Jay. Did you just happen to stumble across me?"
"There...may or may not be a tracker in the jacket I bought you... You were in one place for too long."
"I hate that that makes me feel safer."
He smiles apologetically. "I love you."
"I love you too."
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llamagoddessofficial · 2 months
Note
who's the most possessive out of the bad guys?
It's a bit complicated. They're all possessive, in their own ✨special✨ ways. Because they're special boys.
Horror is possessive like a wild animal. He hates anything that looks like it could hurt you, that makes you nervous, that approaches too fast. It's all or nothing with him; he can be the most ferociously violent and unpredictable of the four, especially considering he has a penchant for decapitation. But he can equally be the most easygoing when he's decided something isn't a threat. He's possessive with his claws and teeth, possessive over your scent and softest parts... though he likes that his hands can encircle your waist entirely, it also makes him scared to let go. He's the bigger and stronger mate, he needs to protect you from the rest of the world. He needs to keep you safe from the things that could kill you quickly. Like him.
Dust is possessive like someone who has lost everything. He found something good after what he did, despite all odds, and he will not lose you. You're so wonderful - he doesn't say it aloud but he truly believes that once you wake up and realise your boyfriend is just a pathetic mass murderer who can't emote, you'll leave. So he's always possessive, under the surface, always jealous and murderous, especially toward anyone he thinks you're starting to get 'too' close with. It's a fire that never goes out. If you're not in his arms, he's watching, quietly burning.
He hides it extremely well. Just like his other emotions. But it's always there - waiting for him to snap, and use it.
Killer is possessive like a child. A child who can (and will) stab people to death. So long as he believes he's your favourite, things will be fine, but he cannot stand someone taking up your attention for too long. Look at him, look at him, look at him - if he can draw your eyes back to him he'll quickly relax, the fastest way to keep him from hurting anyone is by laughing at something he's said. But if someone keeps insisting on getting in the way and monopolising you, he lashes out wildly. Killer's sense of right and wrong is massively fucked up... it's easy to see how little empathy he has for those he doesn't care about when he puts a knife in someone's gut for snapping their fingers at you while he's talking to you.
Nightmare is possessive like a lover. He's pretty tolerant of most things; very close friends are fine, time apart is fine, he doesn't mind. You can do pretty much as you please, so long as you return to his bed at the end of the night. The one thing he absolutely will not tolerate? Romantic rivals. Contenders for your love will die. If someone likes you, and tries to pursue you even slightly, they meet a gruesome end. If you beg on their behalf he might settle on just banishing them to a distant universe... but you probably won't get to them in time. Nightmare, if it wasn't obvious, has a big problem with being "number 2" in anything. And when it comes to your heart, he won't give up a single inch.
Deep down, he just wants you to hold him close and reassure him that you won't leave like everyone else in his life has. But he's much too proud to admit that. So he settles on murdering anyone who could somehow, someday, get in the way.
Prune the tree when it's a sprout and you'll never have to deal with the roots.
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florencemtrash · 6 months
Text
The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Chapter Three
Azriel x Day Court Librarian Reader
Summary: Y/n's clairvoyance is a gift from the Mother, but it feels more like a curse. With the power to gain knowledge through touch alone, Y/n holes herself up in The Alcove and hopes her powers and parentage will remain a secret. But things will change after the Summer Solstice ball and a chance encounter with a certain Shadowsinger.
Warnings: None that I can think of. Cassian, Azriel, and Y/n go to a romantic library
The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Masterlist
Masterlist of Masterlists
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“I. Can’t. Believe. It.” Cassian paced the floor in front of his brothers with his hands on his hips.
“I know.” Azriel said miserably. 
“I can’t believe it.” 
Rhysand smirked, leaning back on Az’s bed with his head propped up beneath his arm. They’d all been in shock leaving the Alcove. Even Helion had been uncharacteristically silent, contemplating what to do now that it looked like his daughter was mates with the Shadowsinger.
Upon return to the Sun Palace they’d found Azriel in his room, head in his hands as his shadows flurried around him in displeasure.
“You fucking ran away from your mate.” Cassian was incredulous, “Over 500 years you’ve been desperate for one, and the moment the bond snaps into place, you fucking run away? What the fuck, Az?”
“As if you or Rhys did any better.” Az growled. Already he could feel the tug of the bond towards you. It was part of the reason he’d run away in the first place. Better to hide and brood over this secret than overwhelm you more than he already had.
“He’s got a point there, Cas.”
“Shut up! Az should know better than to follow in our footsteps.” 
“That we can all agree on,” Feyre said, breezing into the room and finding her rightful place on the bed beside her husband. He kissed her on the temple and Azriel felt a wave of jealousy wash over him. He had a mate. A mate who had flinched whenever he came too close. The memory turned the contents of his stomach into ash. Bitter and cruel.
“It’s not that simple. You saw her tonight. She couldn’t stand being near me.” 
Rhys’s eyes fluttered down to the female in his arms and Feyre, always in sync with Rhys, glanced up at the same time, a look of regret in her eyes. 
“Sorry, Rhys.” Az apologized, but he waved it off.
“It might not have been you. We’ve no idea what kind of history she has. What her experience has been with other fae. With males.” 
Az’s eyes darkened, his shadows similarly taking on a more vicious tone. That knife in his gut twisted to the side at the thought of anyone hurting you.
“What Rhys means to say,” Feyre said, catching the flicker of darkness around Azriel’s edges, “Is that until you get to know her better, you can’t come to any conclusions about her actions tonight.” A light turned on in her mind and Rhys nodded his head in agreement, “You and Cass should go see her in the morning. Ask her to take you to the library with the romance books so he can find Nesta something. It should give you more than enough time to talk.” 
“I will not be supervised by Cassian.”
“Why not, brother? You and your little Librarian can’t be worse than Nesta and I were.” 
Azriel lunged at him, ready to smack him in the back of the head, but Feyre slid between them before he could get too close.
“No. No fighting tonight. You can pummel each other to a pulp when we’re home.” 
“Promise?” Cassian winked. 
Az rolled his eyes and frowned. “This is a terrible time for a mating bond, Fey. Koschei-” 
“Has there ever been a good time for a mating bond?” 
Azriel fell silent, unable to refute his High Lady.
“Rhys and I will take care of that business tomorrow with Helion.” She said with a tone of finality, holding Azriel’s face between her hands, “This is a good thing, Az. Enjoy it. Get to know her. Get to know your mate.”
Your mate. 
The words floated around in Azriel’s mind as he lay in bed and watched the light start to bleed back into the world. He’d been thinking about you all night. You with your soft hair and sheepish smile. You with your mismatched mugs and cheeks flushed with color. He was grateful that Day Court life started early, because he didn’t think he’d be able to stay in bed much longer.
Breakfast was a quick affair, and no one missed the way the Shadowsinger quickly ate, the muscle in his jaw twitching as he watched Cassian savor every bite of his waffles, berry custard, sausages, and tea. Cassian smiled from across the table and Azriel scowled, silently urging him to hurry up. They were wasting precious time.
The moment the last drop from Cassian’s cup was in his mouth, Azriel was hauling him out of his seat and towards the window. Helion narrowed his eyes at the pair but said nothing as their leathery wings flared out without hesitation and they leapt from the Sun Palace.
Azriel’s breath caught in his throat when you opened the door, fresh-faced and smelling like mint and rose. You blinked in surprise, once again half-hiding your body behind the cherry wood door. After his abrupt departure last night, you’d paced the floor of your kitchen, aggressively cleaning the dishes as you mulled over everything you must have done wrong in order for him to react like that. Perhaps you’d offended him somehow? Things had certainly felt fine before. You’d enjoyed talking to them… especially him.  
“My Lords,” You said with a quick dip of your head. Azriel cringed at the title and Cassian, for the sake of his brother, didn’t poke fun, “Um…why are you here? Or-sorry-what can I do for you today?” 
Cassian’s grin was broad and mischievous, “We were hoping you could show us the romance library. The one you told us about last night. I don’t think I could leave the Day Court in good conscience without something salacious to bring home to Nesta.” 
“Oh I um…” You glanced behind you at your living room. You’d hoped to finish reading two of your books on containment spells today, perhaps start summarizing some of your findings and look for connections.
“I-” He coughed, “We don’t want to burden you with this if you’re busy.” Azriel jumped in. 
Please say you’ll come. Please say you’ll come. He all but shouted the words down the bond. 
There was something so hopeful about the way he looked at you, as if he was silently begging you to say yes, that you couldn’t refuse him. 
“No, no. I didn’t have anything planned. Just… just give me a few minutes.” With that you shut the door in their faces and ran to your bedroom, reemerging exactly three minutes later wearing a pale yellow dress with sensible brown shoes and a matching coat. Aside from your hands - which you hid within your deep pockets - and your face, not a scrap of skin was to be found anywhere.
You hesitated at the doorway. Both Cassian and Azriel stood too close, crowding the marble steps leading down to the pale cobblestone streets. Azriel elbowed Cassian out of the way, all but pushing him down the steps with you following six feet behind.
“Lead the way, little Librarian.” Cassian said when they reached the bottom, swinging his arm out to the side. 
Despite the festivities that had taken place the day before, fae were already wide awake and winding through the streets with groceries and fresh baked bread tucked under the arms. The scholars were the easiest to pick out, milling about the coffeeshops and athenaeums with ink stained fingertips and the scent of old paper clinging to their coats. 
Since the war with Hybern, the Day Court’s borders had loosened to accept more visiting researchers from other courts. Intermixed with the usual jumble of fae were tawny-winged Peregryns from Dawn, salt-skinned sailors from Summer, even the occasional fluttering of Spring Court nymph wings could be spotted, shimmering iridescent pinks and purples. 
A quarter mile away, the weekly market was beginning to stir with life, offering up the best artisanal wares in all of Prythian. Hand-stitched leather bound journals, elegant fountain pens with a never-ending ink supply, satchels that could hold up to two-hundred pounds worth of material and still feel as light as a feather. Azriel would have investigated further if you hadn’t steered the pair down a narrower neighborhood street, a pink-stoned athenaeum waiting at the end. 
“This is the 69th sector athenaeum.” You announced. Cassian coughed into his fist, “And before you ask, yes, the location was selected very intentionally.” 
The Illyrian’s face turned a bright red, cheeks flaring out as he attempted to stifle his laughter. Azriel closed his eyes, one hand coming up to rub at his temples. You could have sworn you heard him mumble “Mother give me strength” beneath his breath.
“And what do you call this place?” Azriel asked curiously, trying to turn your attention away from a very immature Cassian, “The “69th sector atheneum” doesn’t have a very pleasing ring to it.” 
You blushed, “We call it The Loveseat.”
“A very-” Cassian wheezed, “A very appropriate-” Wheeze, “A very appropriate name.” 
You shook your head, hiding your smirk as you opened the double doors and stepped inside. The library dedicated to lovers took its theme very seriously, as most athenaeums were apt to do. Lush velvet couches, bouquets of flowers in every shade imaginable, and paintings of love and affection were carefully laid out in between shelves of auburn-stained wood that reached as high as the ceiling. Walkways criss-crossed above their heads forming a spiral pattern that ended at the domed ceiling where someone had painstakingly painted a collection of confessional scenes from Prythian’s most cherished romance novels.
Cassian may have been all teenage jokes before, but he melted at the sight of the ceiling. He thought of Nesta and tugged on the bond, letting her see the athenaeum before him.
“The more explicit works are in the back.” You said, pointing down towards the back staircase which would take any full-grown fae to the lower level. But Cassian had already drifted off, silently following Nesta’s guidance as he scanned the shelves.
“How do you know that?” Azriel asked once Cassian had all but disappeared.
“Hmmm?” 
“How do you know the more explicit works are in the back?” 
You fell silent, tugging your sleeves over your hands as you chewed the inside of your cheek. The Shadowsinger tipped his head back and laughed. Not a hidden smile, not a barely-there smirk, or near-silent chuckle, but a gentle full-bodied laugh that shook his wings.
You gaped at him, “A female is allowed to have hobbies, is she not?”
He shook his raven-black hair, the faint waves within it rippling and catching the warm light that trickled down from the ceiling, “I never said she wasn’t. And I would never deny anyone their smutty romance books if that’s what made them happy. After all, I am Nesta’s brother-in-law.” 
You leaned against a nearby bookcase, absentmindedly running your ink-stained fingers over the spines and getting flashes of knowledge - the death of a brother, a night spent sweaty and spent under the stars, the exhilarating lurch that comes when two lips kiss for the first time. You couldn’t help but insert the Shadowsinger into the picture.
“And what makes you happy, Azriel? What do you like to do for fun?”
There was a pause, as if no one had ever asked him that question before.
“I like to spend time with my family.” He said, slipping into the shelves and ducking down so he could see you through the space between the books. For the first time in a while, you disliked the physical barrier between you and another person.
You shook your head, pretending to read the titles so you wouldn’t look into those hazel eyes, “That’s not a hobby though.” 
He shrugged, “The nature of my work keeps me away from most things. I don’t often have time for things I enjoy.” 
“But you do have things you enjoy, don’t you? Something to take your mind off the nature of your work.”
Azriel stilled, no longer moving with you and you realized you must have overstepped your bounds.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked you-” 
“I like music.” He said finally after some contemplation, “I like flying over the musician’s quarter in Velaris so I can hear what they’re playing at the theater. Sometimes I’ll sneak in and hide in the rafters.” 
He’d never told anyone that. But you only nodded in agreement, as if sneaking around in your own city and into shows you could afford in a moment’s notice were a normal thing to do. 
“That seems very appropriate for a Shadowsinger.” 
The strange dance you’d been dueting came to an abrupt end when the shelves stopped, spitting the two of you out into one of the narrow aisles face to face. 
Azriel smiled at you, exposing his teeth in a rare smile. Other than the smallest chip in his left canine, they were pristine - as perfectly imperfect as the rest of him.
“Now you tell me. What do you like to do?”
“Well you already know I like smutty romance novels.” 
“Naturally.” He said, gesturing to the space they were in.
You looked around the room, breathed in the smell of roses and ink. You shrugged, “I like to read.” 
“Naturally.” The Shadowsinger repeated.
“I… I suppose I like to sing.”
He leaned forward, as if it were a secret, “A little songbird then?” 
“No, no, I’m not good at it. But there’s a pianist who lives down the street from me so I end up memorizing her songs.”
You wracked your brain for anything more to say. Something that would make you appear more interesting, braver, kinder, special… someone worthy of the attention you were receiving from this male. You had never been the most physically inclined, hence why the elite Bookkeepers - Librarians charged with the physical protection of their respective athenaeums - had passed you over. You weren’t one for baking or crafting or gardening or hosting parties or any of the rest of those things. You didn’t know how to draw, you’d never picked up an instrument, you tried embroidery once and found it boring. 
“I think… I think that’s it, really.” You said, sounding defeated. 
Azriel hadn’t taken his eyes off you the entire time you were thinking. Not for a single second, “I don’t believe you.” 
“Well you don’t know me so…”
“Maybe not yet. But I would like to, Y/n the Librarian. If you’d let me.” 
The feeling that crept up into your throat and lodged itself there took you by surprise. Some mortifying realization that you were becoming emotional in front of the Shadowsinger. You cleared your throat, dipping your head down and diving back into the shelves so he couldn’t see your silvery eyes. 
“Tell me more about the kinds of things academics concern themselves with.” Azriel said smoothly, calling back your conversation from the night before as he peered over a dense set of bodice-rippers at you. If he wanted to take your mind off things, he was doing an excellent job.
“Hardcover versus paperback.” Your fingers skimmed over the book bindings. Bodice-rippers indeed.
“And?”
You pursed your lips, thoughts of Nesta and her smutty books coming into mind before you could help yourself.
“Ahhh, you just thought of something. Tell me.” 
“I don’t want to.” You mumbled, but the Shadowsinger only arched his brows.
You rolled your eyes in defeat. Not that you’d put up much of a fight. He was the Shadowsinger after all, he could learn what you had for breakfast three weeks ago if he really wanted to. 
“I… I once got into a heated argument with a certain erotica writer about the physical impossibility of a human having sex with a dragon-born fae…”
He blinked, tipped his head back, and laughed. One of those full-bellied ones again. You swiveled around, grateful to find that the only other fae on this floor were currently lip-locked on a sofa ten shelves down. They were far too preoccupied to make a noise complaint.
“It’s not funny!” You hissed, “There are certain anatomical considerations that can’t be ignored. You can’t-” Your futile attempts at explaining yourself were only met with louder laughter. It was infectious and suddenly that was all you two seemed to be capable of. Both of you doubled over with laughter on opposite sides of the bookshelf in a building that suddenly seemed too cramped, too small to fit the joy within.
“Please-” Azriel chuckled, “Please tell me how long this lasted.”
“I can’t breathe-” You gasped for breath, “Oh gods. Three months?”
“Three months?”
“There are nuances we got into. And they use a pseudonym so we were sending letters.”
“Letters?”
Luckily, or rather unluckily for you, you were saved from further explanation, because there was someone waiting at the end of the shelves with two thin fists propped up on curvy hips. 
You bit down on your tongue as she sashayed forward, forcing you backward like she knew you would. Azriel immediately stepped to the side as you careened back out into the aisle, your laughter long forgotten. A new crowd was beginning to spread throughout the athenaeum - shy couples on first outings, sheepish young ones searching for the most heart-wrenching stories they could find, older fae looking for a little spark in their comparably milder lives.
But Azriel’s full attention was on you and the displeasure written in your tight lips as the short-haired pixie came out in full view.
“Y/n.” She said, a sugary sweetness in the way she said your name, like rotten fruit.
“Marsha.” You replied curtly, instinctively stepping back and closer to Azriel as the female moved forward to hug you. She rolled her eyes at the rejection, immediately taking notice of Azriel’s dark and towering form. Her small, round lips opened in a surprised oh before sinking into a low bow, chest jutting forward in an attempt to make full use of her small bosom. She wore the signature pale blue robes of another athenaeum - The Blue Drink. 
“My Lord Shadowsinger.” More sickly sweet words.
For the first time in Azriel’s life, he didn’t correct her use of his title, already deciding from your reaction that this was not a female he wanted to associate with.
“It is good to see you out and about, Y/n, and in such distinguished company. Hardly anyone sees you anymore, my dear. I can’t imagine what you must be doing with all that time.”
You swallowed, “The High Lord has me on special business. But you already know that, Marsha.” 
“Bah. Special business.” She threw a hand in the air, swatting away your confidence, “Busy work.” 
“It’s not- '' You bit your tongue. Marsha was one of the few fae who knew you were Helion’s bastard daughter. A complex story that involved her close friendship with Helion's ex-lover who’d felt betrayed when he chose you and your mother over him. Since then she’d convinced herself that all you did was drain from the royal coffers and take advantage of her High Lord’s generosity like some parasite, “It’s not busy work.”
“Then why do you never share it with us? No papers written. No books published.” Even her frown was sickly sweet, “It seems a waste, doesn’t it?”
 You remembered what she’d said to you, back when you were an apprentice. What a waste of a Clairvoyant. Your mother didn’t fall into bed like a common whore for you to choose The Alcove and hide your power.
She tsked her tongue, once again shooting Azriel a deceptively sweet smile, “Well I suppose you have other things taking up your time. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, I see.” 
Your face paled, half in embarrassment and half in anger. By all means she shouldn’t have known anything, but as it was with all Librarians, she had a stubborn streak for digging in graves that should remain buried. You could respect her loyalty to her friend. The rest you could not.
Your mother didn’t fall into bed like a common whore for you to choose The Alcove and hide your power.
“I’m happy for the pair of you.” 
Bullshit.
You finally opened your mouth to correct her, but Azriel spoke first, one hand ghosting ever so close to the square of your back, but never making contact, “Thank you. We were just leaving.” Azriel said curtly, jaw clenched. With just a few polite, yet dangerous words from the Shadowsinger, Marsha clamped her mouth shut and said no more. 
Azriel tipped his head towards the way you’d originally come, letting you take the lead. You shot him a look of gratitude to which he returned the subtlest of smiles. A kind of smile that said, we can talk later, if you’d like.
You didn’t speak a word to one another until you were outside. Fae mingled about, their conversations doing nothing to drown out your thoughts as you walked over to the small garden. The greenery was half-sunken in the ground beneath the two main stairs that wound together in the shape of a heart. If it were anatomically correct you’d be sitting in the tricuspid valve. 
Azriel sat down on the bench beside you, despite the discomfort it must have caused his wings. His shadows darted out, pooling out of his skin and beginning to cover your hands and arms in a strange hug. Azriel’s heart clenched painfully in his chest, some lingering shame of yours leaking through the bond without you even realizing it. 
“We should let Cassian know where we are.” You said quietly, hands folded in your lap. Your shoulders bent inward like the curling of paper when it begins to catch fire.
“He’s a grown Illyrian. He’ll find us eventually.” 
And even if he didn’t, I would be happy to sit here forever. 
Azriel had been furious inside the athenaeum, the already red room turning redder as he saw the light flicker out of your eyes at Marsha’s comment. Perhaps it was another sign of the mating bond that he’d so wanted to slap that prideful smile off her face. It would be beneath him, but satisfying nevertheless.
“Are you alright?” He asked gently.
You huffed, discreetly blotting out the moisture that had collected in the corners of your eyes, “I am alright. I’m sorry about what happened inside. It wasn’t anything important.”
“You don’t need to apologize for that.” 
Gods, he was being kind. Kinder than he needed to be. What were you doing charading two legendary Illyrian warriors through the streets of Day? Stirring up old emotions in public spaces and making a scene in front of him.
“No, I do. It wasn’t right of me to react that way. I should’ve hidden it better.” 
“You barely reacted at all.” 
Something about his insistence made you feel worse, not better. The emotions you’d been trying to tamp down since the party, and probably far longer than that, were bubbling to the surface. 
“Please tell me what’s wrong, Y/n. Tell me the truth.”
The truth… 
The truth was that you were a mess. You continuously shrank away from Helion’s attempts to foster a relationship with you, the discomfort you felt leaving your apartment for anything other than work was becoming an unignorable problem, and the mere thought of anyone touching you made your stomach clench. Even the Shadowsinger, whose touch you craved right now, felt like a beast behind a door that should never be opened. It might destroy you if you did.
Koschei.
Koschei.
Koschei.
What’s buried beneath the lake? 
What’s buried beneath the lake?
What’s buried beneath the lake?
“There you both are!” Cassian called out, his neck craning around a stack of books that were piled from his waist to his forehead. His cheeks were touched with color, eyes bright with mischief like a boy seeing a naked lady for the first time. No doubt a consequence of the visions Nesta had been shooting down the bond as he’d scanned the shelves and flipped through the pages.
Azriel hated the way you sprang up from the seat and smoothed your dress, like you wanted to be anywhere else but with him. He’d pushed too far. Come on too strong. Damn it. 
On the return trip to the Alcove, you and Cassian spoke casually about the books he’d selected. Or rather, Cassian rambled and you listened, occasionally chiming in if you were familiar with one of Nesta’s favorite authors and offering suggestions. 
Azriel walked a few paces behind, watching you as you instinctively tightened your back whenever Cassain or anyone else drifted too close, twisting and turning in a manner that seemed effortless, but which Azriel could see was constantly on your mind. There wasn’t a single step you took that was mindless and calm. 
Azriel clenched his fists so tightly he felt his nails digging crescent-shaped marks in his palms. He wanted to hold you close, beg you to tell him what was wrong, what he could do to help. But if there was anyone who could understand the fear of being touched, of touching others, it was him. 
So when they reached The Alcove, all he did was wave to you from the bottom of the steps as you turned and said goodbye. He committed the scene to memory - your smile, the flush of your cheeks, the swish of your skirt as the door closed shut with a gentle thud.
Cassian whistled low, kicking his brother in the shin with a wobble of books, “You’re whipped, Az. Absolutely whipped.” 
And he was right. He was absolutely right.
<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->
______________
Author's Note:
*sighs* I just want Azriel to be happy...
As always, feel free to let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist!
On a completely unrelated note: I watched Howl's Moving Castle last night and I think it altered my brain chemistry.
"There you are, sweetheart, sorry I’m late. I was looking everywhere for you”
AHHHHHH just AKJDBFHAB ESKLCFNHSDN
Love,
Florence B.
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killerkillerkillher · 3 months
Text
Bound to Fall in Love
Angel/Demon! 141 x reader
Tags: kidnapping, sacrifices, religious references, reader is too angry to die, reader commits murder lol, canon typical violence??, reader gets a kissy on the forehead, a tad crack-ish
Inclusivity tags: reader is referred to w he/him and they/them pronouns, no bodily description, no y/n
A/n: call my brain an apple w all the worms it's got. This was just a blurb at first, but I made room in there for me to potentially make it into... something I guess.
minors dni!
"Cole, I can't fucking focus while they're just... staring at us like that."
"Ignore it, Bess. We have to finish these candles."
You wish a bolt of lightening would come down and strike all three of you at once. Or maybe the building spontaneously combusting would be better. Anything, anything, would be better at this moment than watching your boyfriend and best friend work together to light a summoning circle after having tied you up in your sleep.
For a fraction of a second, you wonder if any gods are watching, if any of them would be willing to give you a boon and allow you one last chance to punch both of these betrayers in the face.
"Okay, okay, the book," Bess mutters, going to the pick up her ritual book from the coffee table you bought. Honestly, if they were going to try to sacrifice you somewhere, your living room is one of the most disrespectful places. Probably right under your bed room.
"I'm sorry," Cole has the gaul to look down at you with a face stricken with grief. Like you're dead already. "We didn't know what else to do. We're both in bad places and you've always been so good to us, so we figured-"
"You better hope this fucking kills me." You grunt. Cole's face melts into a glare. "Because if I'm still breathing, it's going to take more than Satan's intervention to save you from me. I swear on my mother." You jerk forward, making him jump back a step.
"Cole...?" Bess looks at you, then up at Cole with unease. Cole doesn't say anything for a second, sorting his feelings out with a leer before turning to her.
"Read the book."
He drags you into the middle of their pentagram while she sings Latin words off the old book pages. The candles flicker and waver before their flames grow twice as tall. Cole rolls you onto your back and pulls a knife from his back pocket.
"I meant it when I said I'm sorry," Cole mutters. You snarl, but don't jump at him like you want to.
"Yeah? Yeah, you're sorry? Kiss my ass!" You shout over Bess's reading. "If I'm still alive after this, I'm killing you and burying you in the fucking septic tank!" You crane your head up so you can see Bess as well. "Time to get some stuff off my chest, yeah? Bess, I fucked your older brother on the day we graduated."
Her eyes go wide, and she almost stops talking, but Cole shoots her a look that forces her to continue.
"And his friend Carl, the one you had a crush on. And Cole? I never. Fucking. Finished. Ever! You are the only person I've dated who couldn't get me off." Cole's hand's twitch around the blade.
"Are you serious?"
"Does now look like a time to- ack!" You don't get to finish because Bess finished the spell and it was time for your blood to fuel it. The blade buries in your gut, turning this way and that way at measured increments. You just lay there and twitch, breathy gasps falling from your gaping mouth, the pain only throwing fuel to the fires of your rage.
"Please, we call you here! Honor us with your presence!" Bess chants. Cole step away from you when the candles roar and your vision is filled with bright red and orange.
The ground beneath you rumbles. Whispers fill your ears, nothing you can ever imagine understanding, but something tells you they're other summoners. Or maybe little souls of those who were just where you are now, with a people sacrificing them.
It's odd, you think as blood soaks your back, your hair. You thought you'd be more scared in what could be your final moments. But there's only anguish where there should be fear. Only unfettered violent tension felt in your muscles, and a tongue hungering for iron and gore. You're jaw is wound tight enough to shatter your teeth.
If you could think straight, if you weren't about to die, you might be a little concerned. Never have you wanted to sink your fingers into someone's soft bits as much as you do now. This is normal, right? A normal amount of rage for the people taking your life.
Something in your gut tells you it's not.
In the fog of your rage, you missed the appearance of a pair of men above you. They hover, leathery plum colored wings sagging. One wears a leather strap harness across his chest, while the other favors an unbuttoned silk shirt. One of them looks at you curious as the fire dies, steam and copper colored smoke bellowing from his mouth. A thick cigar hangs on his lips.
"You came! There's... two of you?" Cole gawks, then falls to his knees beside Bess. You can't help but scoff at their sniveling forms.
"We did. There are." The one without the cigar brushes back his long mohawk to get a better look at the whimpering humans. They're nothing new to them, just another set of weak little things looking to get something without putting in the work for it.
Well, they might have had to put in the work to capture you, based on the way you still squirm and fight the rope keeping your arms together. So much blood has left you. You are going to die. Yet you spend your last moments doing what most humans find to be a waste of precious time. Being angry. It's interesting.
"What do you want?" The bearded one in the silk shirt grunts out around his cigar. Bess lifts her head just a bit to speak.
"We want to make a trade. A soul for a better life for us."
There's a moment of silence. You blink your heavy lids, growing too tired to do much else anymore. Both demons look back at you, then to the kneeling humans.
"They're not dead." They say at the same time.
Bess and Cole stiffen and finally chance a glance at you. You're bleeding, a glassy look to your eye and a smile on your face, but you're not dead.
"See, Bess?" You cough up blood only to swallow it back down, "what did I tell you? The cunt can't make me come and can't... can't even make me go."
The mohawked devil pops a wicked smile, not even hiding it from his would-be contractors.
Cole fumes. "I can finish the job. Fuck, am I going to finish the job." He stands, moving to step into the circle only to yelp, the invisible border around the summoning circle becoming visible if only to shock Cole back.
"Not so fast," the bearded one spawns a scroll in his hand. He's eyes glow a molten orange as he scans it. "Section 1, clause 3, part 19 states: executioner(s) must sacrifice one(1) human soul to contractee(s)... Let's see... Here it is: Sacrificee(s) must be dead upon arrival so that proper collection can be done. If sacrificee(s) is still soul bond upon arrival, then they are made the true contractor and all work will be conducted with them."
"In other words," the mohawked one grinned, "you should have went for the heart." He taps at his chest.
"Or the neck." The other devil offers.
"Or that vein in they're thigh."
"The sephenous, Johnny."
"Yeah, that."
"No, no!" Cole grabs at his hair as Bess looks like she's about to start crying. You want to laugh. They deserve the despair. They deserve the horror in their mistake. They were going to kill you!
"That means," the devils lean back to look at you. "You're our contractor. You get two requests at the price of one, human. I suggest one of those requests includes healing you." He flicks the ashes of his cigar on your leg. You don't even have to think of what you want most right now.
"I want you to untie me." You roll on your side. They wait for the rest. Cole and Bess look like they're going to shit themselves from the pale faced looks of terror they give you. Your eyes narrow. "And a hammer. A old fashioned iron and wood handled hammer."
Another beat of silence before the infernals bend over in laughter. The room shacks, sulfuric smoke pouring from their mouths to funk up the room. Cole tries to cox Bess to her feet while they're distracted. Their feet can't move though. It's like they're glued in placed and no amount of pulling and tugging could get them loose. Shame.
"Yer a funny one, love. I'll love having your soul for a few eternities." The one in leather floats over you, tilting his head this way and that way to get a good look at you. You settle him with a neutral look. "My name is Johnny. You sure that's what you want? I think you've only got a few minutes left in you."
"Then let's hurry this up a little, huh?"
"Ooh, you heard 'em." The cigared one snickers and snaps his claws. Two contracts appear in front of your face, both written in a language you can hardly comprehend. A pen appeared in front of your mouth. "Sign on the dotted line please."
You take the quill in your mouth, dip it in the blood beneath you.
"Rah 'ere?"
"Mhm."
You lean forward to dot the paper with your sloppy signature, but bizarrely enough, it seems like the powers that be have decided that they haven't made enough appearances. The floor trembles, and you worry about your poor infrastructure for a fraction of a second, when a set of gold doors spawn right behind you. You roll back onto your back to intake everything. You swear you're hallucinating when a pair of white winged angels step out, the clouded blue of heaven at their back.
"Hello?" You greet stupidly. You must be losing your mind, right? What the fuck is happening.
"Do not sign a thing." The bronzen angel instructs. "Human, we are here as messengers. God sees great things for you in your ascension. Please do not squander that to these demons." He shoots a sharp look at the demonic pair. The angel's counterpart wears a white cloak, obscuring all but his glowing golden eyes. You half expect him to sing "Be not afraid." despite you actively shitting bricks.
Oddly enough, their appearence seems to have some sort of healing property. Your lethargy starts to clear and the blade in your gut starts to get pushed out. Nothing hurts anymore.
"Oh, so we've got a big soul on our hands here, huh?" Johnny smirks. "Price, what's the plan?"
Price the devil throws his cigar to the ground and crushes it.
"Do what we do best. Bargain."
"Don't play with us, Price." The shrouded angel grunts. He's got a mind piercing voice that's got your head ringing, and you swear it echoes despite the room being well furnished. "We can provide them with just as much, if not more, at no cost of their soul." Those gold orbs land on you. "All we ask for is your faith."
"Jesus fucking Christ!" You tug at your bonds with renewed vigor. The angels wince at the mention of their Lord, but only watch as you force yourself upright. "I could not give a rat's ass who gets what! How about this? First one to get me free and a hammer in hand gets my loyalty."
There's two resounding snaps from either side of you. The ropes disappear, a hammer is in your left and right hand. You don't think deeper on what that implies. You finally stand, dropping the hammer in your nondominant hand, and march over to the two people you thought you could trust. They kneel now, seemingly ready to beg for their souls.
"Come on, don't look scared now." You drop your hands on your hips. "What happened to you finishing the job?"
"I didn't want-"
"Say it with your chest." You poke his breast plate with the iron hammer head.
"I didn't want it to come to this!" Cole yells. The divine audience doesn't say anything about it. They watch you curiously as you bounce the hammer in hand. Your soul is visible to them. What should be a glowing ball of light is a red and white morning star, all sharp edges and pulsing like a heart. Your soul will certainly not end up with the others, that much is true.
"I just... I couldn't keep up with you! Your life style, the way you act, your job. I never left good enough. Bess expressed the same thing and we just... clicked. We would have just left, but we could have never lived without struggling, so we just..." He swallows. You can't look at him anymore, hands clenching at what he says next. "The book called for someone we cared for."
''That supposed to make me feel better?" You tilt your head. Cole winces, eyes falling on your feet. You look to Bess. "Thought you were better than this. You were going to kill me. Because what, I was happy? I loved both of you, you could have just talked to me."
"We're sorry! What more do you want?" Bess sobs. You straighten up, bouncing the hammer on your hip, acting like you next action is something to deliberate. You already know what they deserve, and a flash of sadness bubbles in your chest, but it quickly passes as a hot, searing emotion burns a hole into what little hesitation you had left.
"Reckon I want your souls after all the shit you've caused." You grin before swinging the hammer back and caving in Cole's chest.
"Fuck..." is all you can say after everything is done. Cole and Bess lay in a bloody heep, all recognizable features destroyed and crushed. You pant, hands trembling and nothing but white noise and static crunching around in your head. You just killed your best friend and boyfriend. For some reason, you've never felt so light.
Someone's whistle gets followed by a clap.
"Impressive. Done that before?" Johnny chuckles. He floats closer, hand running down your back as he moves past and pokes around the pulped organs. "Shite, did them right in. Can't tell which is which."
"I've never-" you start to answer, but hands are clapped onto your shoulders, shocking you into silence.
"Well, that was a good place to start, lad. Your swings were a bit sloppy, but we can fix that." Price squeezes at your trapezius, massaging the stiffness out of them. A throat clears, and Price sighs like he forgot there was other company.
"We aren't finished. The human is our ward now, Price." The uncloaked angel snaps his finger, pulling you from Price and making you spawn between the two angels. The bronzen angel smiles down at you with teeth so white you could damn near see your reflection.
"There you are. It's nicer to have you close. My friend here is Simon and I'm-"
"Come on, Kyle, you know he's ours!" Johnny spits, his wings flaring out. "We gave him the hammer first, so piss off."
"Uh...huh." Kyle's smile falls. "I think you're a bit mistaken. Look, after executing the human's request, I have his name here." A stone slab appears in front of your face. It's smells like sunshine and warm grass. What the fuck. "His pledge to the Lord has been set and his soul already has a place next to Their throne."
"Right, right, like we don't have documentation neither." Johnny huffs. The stone disappears as a scroll appears next to the devil. The smell of sulfur and smoke wafts over to you. "His name is right there, pretty boy. Getting yer fuckin' lookers on."
Kyle ignores the rude tone and does pull out a pair of reading glasses to go over the scroll. You stand there in the silence, a little too scared to speak up. What could you do anyway? In a blind anger, you didn't really have the mind to think any of this out. Angels and devils are fighting over you because you'd stupid ass was too blood hungry to think past murder. All that can be done is for them to figure this out amongst themselves, and for you to wait for the sentencing. Heaven, or Hell?
"...Simon." Kyle slowly pulls his glasses off. "This is legit. His soul is promised to all of us."
You glance up at Simon, the scary motherfucker. He blinks. Once. Twice. Then pinches the bridge of his nose with a hagard sigh.
"Shit."
That's not good.
Johnny laughs, Price grinning like a dog with a bone. Kyle marches over to you, patting your shoulders with an awkward smile. His demeanor reminds you of the way your mom acted when she said she was going to divorce your dad. And all you can think is "Not this again." Are you going to be spending your afterlife going between heaven and hell forever? Does God get weekends because Their day is Sunday or whatever?
"We need to go and talk this over with some superiors. We'll clean this up," Kyle snaps and the gore is gone, so is the ritual circle and candles. "And we'll get back to you in the morning." He places a feather light kiss on your forehead, and suddenly you're squeaky clean and in the softest set of pajamas you've ever worn. "Stay safe while we're gone and don't allow these two to influence you. Get some rest."
"Blah, blah, blah," Johnny mocks from the sidelines. Price tilts his head, and there's nothing but amusement behind those eyes. Yeah, this is exactly like your parents divorce.
"O-okay? I mean, I'll try." You shrug.
Simon nods. "That's all you can do." He steps back into the golden doorway and Kyle falls in stride. You make some distance, and with a final wave from a white toothed angel, the doors shut with a slam that shakes the house's foundation.
"Just you and us now, stud."
You turn with a comedic slowness to the devils. Price chuffs and floats forward. His assess you, takes you in in all your fluffy white pajama glory, and it seems he finds what he wants when he nods.
"Guess we've got to talk with top brass to see what's going on ourselves. Pity we couldn't stick around longer." The devil's eyes never meet yours, staying glued to various parts of your face. They hop from ears, to your eyebrows, down to your lips. Christ on a bike, is it getting hot in here? His blue, glowing cerulean eyes appear to flash with something.
"Shite, yer right." Johnny groans. "I hate going down there."
"Suck it up, love. You know how I feel about sharing." Price drops his interest in you like an old toy and takes Johnny close by his waist. You watch with a lead poisoned stare as their noses touch intimately, words you can't hear being exchanged. It's kinda of awkward to just stand there and watch but your brain isn't really functioning well enough to tell you to stop.
"Hey, stud." You blink, refocusing on the pair. Johnny seems to have climbed his partner, his legs on his waist and arms around his neck. Price makes busy opening a portal to hell in your livingroom with one hand, supporting Johnny under his ass with the other. "Sit pretty, yeah? 'll be back before those two arseholes, promise."
"Right... yeah." You nod. "Uh, be safe?"
"Be safe, he says." Price mutters. "Cute." Johnny waves until Price steps through the infernal hole and falls from view. The portal closes right behind him so you'd have no hopes of seeing anything but the red hue of smog and dust.
And here you are. A little dazed, a little sad, probably holding back a break down from the last hour of events. But you're alive and you're healed. There's no blood to clean, you're in comfortable pajamas. Could probably sleep right now if your brain would stop for a minute, but it doesn't look like that's in the plans.
So you look for something to do. Cole and Bess and moved around all your furniture to make the summoning circle. Guess you can start there, right?
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