thinking1bee - Tumblr blog

thinking1bee · 3 hours

Text

It Was Real to Me Part 2

This was an idea that popped into my head

Pairings: Natasha Rominoff x Reader

Tags: Widow!Reader, Violence, Smut, Angst, Fluff, Blood, Humor, Feelings, Panic Attacks, Night Terrors, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content

Everything Taglist: @sammy90682 @nobody13 @owloftheshadows @captain-josslett @camslightstories @worldovart @finleyfray @acertainredhead @sammm9068 @reginassecretlover @ara-a-bird

Additional Notes: A lot of the dialogue is taken directly from the movie. That being said, I do not own, not do I have any rights to the Black Widow movie. I am but a humble simp who only wants to write about unachievable scenarios involving beautiful women that don't exist. Please don't sue my ass Marvel Studios.

Something cold splashed onto your body. At first, you felt an icy chill, but then it morphed into a stinging and burning pain. It was enough to wake you up. Your eyes snapped open, and a gasp tore from you as that pain intensified. It was searing now, with the bulk of it emanating from your side.

“Eбать!” you swore harshly, your Russian cutting through the air loud enough to startle the kids that played outside.

“не двигайся.”

The voice that said it to you was soft, and when you looked down, you saw her. In any other situation, you would be happy to see Natalia. You would be elated even, but you felt less elation and more disorienting bewilderment when you saw her kneeled between your legs.

“What the fuck!” you hissed quietly.

You went to move when you heard something rattle and groan. You were handcuffed to the chair. You still had your pants and boots on, but someone stripped you of your jacket and shirt. Only a sports bra protected your modesty.

“I said keep still,” she commanded more sternly.

“Natalia-”

“Natasha,” she interjected. “It’s Natasha now.”

Something sharp stabbed into your side, piercing through your flesh, and you gasped again. “What are you doing??” you groaned as you tried to move away from her.

“I cut you too deep during our fight. This will get infected if not taken care of.”

You looked down when you felt something pulling at your side. Natasha had a needle and thread in her hands, and she was sewing you back up. The burning that you felt was caused by half a shot bottle of cheap liquor. She used it as an antiseptic, disinfecting the area before working on it. Your eyes widened, the pain dissolving to make room for something else, something that was beginning to make it harder for you to breathe.

“Please,” you whispered in a strangled voice.

You had to close your eyes and look away, your head falling back so that you couldn’t see what she was doing. The panic inside of you rose the longer Natasha took. Beneath her fingertips, Natasha could feel your heartbeat increasing, the pounding of your blood harsh and rampant. She quirked an eyebrow, but her expression remained neutral.

“I’m almost done,”’she reassured you.

Within seconds, she was cutting the thread and bandaging the affected area. Right as Natasha was about to stand up, Yelena came from around the corner with a case of beer in her hands. She paused when she saw you both, a frown forming as she cocked her head to the side.

“Oh, that does not look right.”

“Get your mind out of the gutter,” Natasha grumbled but a split second later, she heard the click of a camera shutter.

She turned around and glared at Yelena, her hands on her hips as she stood up straight. Yelena ignored her stare and showed her the picture she took on her phone. Immediately, Natasha could see what she was talking about. The position was incredibly incriminating. She was between your legs while you sat in the chair with your head thrown back. It didn’t look like Natasha was providing medical aid. It looked like she was doing something else entirely. Natasha groaned and Yelena cackled.

“Can someone tell me why I’m handcuffed?” you asked as you looked between them.

“Can we trust you?” Yelena retorted and you just stared at her.

“Would you believe me if I said yes?”

Natasha and Yelena shared a skeptical look, and you rolled your eyes. You were playing nice, but with your shirt gone and your tits out, you weren’t in the mood to play games. You easily broke the chain that held the cuffs together before standing up. Yelena’s frown deepened while Natasha just stared. You motioned to the beer case in Yelena’s hand.

“Can I have one of those?”

***

“So, what happened to you?” Yelena finally asked.

You were sitting across from them on a patio. You, Natasha, and Yelena were at a small mom and pop restaurant. Natasha ended up having to buy you an oversized vest that could fit over your muscular physique. It was quite comfortable, but you hated how your metal arms were on full display. Already, people were staring at you, and you did your best to ignore them.

“I was handed over to the Red Room by your ‘parents’ when I was a kid, and I was subjected to horrible forms of torture, abuse, and-”

Yelena scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Да ладно.”

You smirked. “Stupid questions get you stupid answers.”

“You know what I meant,” Yelena asserted. “What happened to you?”

You licked your lips using the tip of your tongue before you took a hefty drink from the beer bottle in your hand. You knew what they were seeing. You didn’t have just one metal arm. You had two. In addition to that, you were beefier than they remembered. Like them, 20 years ago, you’d been a scrawny kid.

“Dreykov decided that he wanted to use the super soldier serum on me, hence, why it looks like I’ve been snorting powdered steroids.”

Natasha smirked and Yelena snickered.

“The metal arms, well…” you could only shrug and laugh dryly. “Dreykov was feeling extra bitchy that day.”

You weren’t trying to think about it or focus on what was stolen from you. You remembered the agony. The fear. The begging. The blood. Even considering that much was enough for the room to spin and teeter on its axis. You took a deep breath as you closed your eyes. Breathe. You needed to breathe.

“What about you?” you asked Yelena when you felt calmer.

“I just got out a few weeks back.”

“How?”

She suddenly went quiet, her jaw clenched as she looked at the table. “A former widow exposed me when I was ordered to retrieve the counter agent. I killed her when she freed me.”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered sincerely. You knew what that was like.

You turned your attention towards Natasha and gave her a smile. “How’s it been being an Avenger?”

“They’re fighting right now,” Yelena commented, and Natasha shrugged.

“I’m better off on my own.”

You nodded idly and sat back, wincing a bit when it jostled your side. You groaned softly as your hand pressed over the bandaged area. It was quiet for a moment as you all watched the kids play outside. Hearing their giggles was enduring but bittersweet. What you would have given to have a carefree childhood like that. They were all so small, so innocent.

“I can’t believe how many more Dreykov is taking,” Yelena murmured as she watched them play. “He’s taking children that don’t have anyone to protect them, just like us when we were small.”

Natasha looked at her when she said that. Her green eyes were focused and disturbed. Why was she so surprised by this?

“Maybe one in twenty survives the training and becomes a widow. The rest he kills.” Yelena shook her head before looking away, her gaze showing just how far away from the moment she was, how tired she was about everything. “To him, we’re just things. Weapons with no face that he can just throw away. Because there is always more.”

The last sentence she said with bitterness in her tone. Natasha sighed and rubbed her forehead with her hand.

“Dreykov should be dead.”

You raised an eyebrow and looked at Yelena. Yelena pursed her lips as she met your questioning stare.

“What makes you believe that he would be?” you asked.

“Because I was there. I rigged the bombs that killed him. I killed his daughter. I watched the building go up in flames and I had to survive a shootout with the Hungarian police. Barton and I spent two days hiding in that vent you destroyed.”

You frowned. If what she’s saying is true, then whatever plan she had was a bad one because Dreykov was very much alive. It was quiet again as you watched kids and their parents pass you by.

“Did you ever look for your real parents?” Yelena asked as she broke the silence.

“Well, my mom abandoned me in the street like garbage,” Natasha replied with a sad smile. “What about you?”

“They destroyed my birth certificate,” Yelena murmured. “So I reinvented it. My parents still live in Ohio. My sister moved out west.”

“Is that right?” Natasha asked with a growing smile. You smiled too as you listened to what should have been, instead of the brutal truth of what actually happened.

“You’re a science teacher,” Yelena continued to say to Natasha. “You’re working part time though, especially after you had your son.”

She turned to you. “You went to a trade school to become an electrician. You’ve had a few girlfriends here and there, but nothing that stuck. You live with your two dogs in your ranch house. Both are golden retrievers.”

That sounded so nice. It felt like it would be so peaceful.

“That is not my story,” Natasha said with a chuckle.

“I actually like mine,” you said. “If things were different, I’m sure I would have ended up just like that.”

Yelena looked at her sister. “What is your story?”

Natasha shrugged. “I never let myself be alone long enough to think about it.”

Yelena nodded, giving her a sad smile. “Did you ever wish for kids?”

At that, Natasha didn’t know what to say. She looked away, the smile still on her face.

“What about you?” Yelena asked you.

You shook your head. “As I am? No.”

“I know we can’t have kids, but you can always adopt.”

You laughed harshly. “No.”

“Adoption is valid.”

“I never said that it wasn’t.” You sighed and looked at her. “What kind of kid would want a freak with metal arms? I couldn’t offer them a comforting touch. I wouldn’t be able to feel them, their warmth. Every move I make, I would have to make sure that I never crush them accidentally. I will never know what it’s like to feel another human being ever again.”

Yelena grew quiet, her eyes radiating sympathy. She hadn’t thought about that.

“It’s funny to remember who we all used to be back in Ohio,” Yelena said. “Natasha and I were siblings.”

“I was your slightly annoying next-door neighbor,” you said with a chuckle.

“Ugh, oh my god,” Yelena groaned. “Annoying is so generous. Try insufferable! You always used to blab about your crush on Natasha every time I saw you. It was always ‘Natasha this’ and ‘Natasha that.’” She shuddered. “It was disgusting.”

You snickered and drank the last of your beer. Natasha looked at you, her eyebrow raised and a smirk curving her lips upwards in an expression that made your heart jump. After all these years, she was still so gorgeous.

“Eh, what can I say?” you said nonchalantly as you lightly threw your hand up and let it drop back into your lap. “I was a precocious teenager in love.”

Natasha’s gaze lingered on you for a second more, her eyes twinkling brightly, but you had already let your mind and attention drift to somewhere else.

“So, are we getting Dreykov?” you asked.

“We’re going to find the Red Room and kill Dreykov?” Yelena inquired softly.

“Yeah,” Natasha replied.

“Even though the Red Room is impossible to find and Dreykov is too slippery to kill?”

“Yeah.”

“That sounds like a shit load of work,” Yelena said with a sigh and Natasha gave her a crooked smile.

“Yup. It could be fun though.”

“I’m game,” you said, your voice a little steely as your resolve solidified. You’d tear this world apart to find Dreykov if you had to. “Let’s get this bastard.”

Yelena and Natasha toasted to that statement, their bottles clinking against yours as you all took a drink at the same time. After being separated all those years ago, you never thought that you would be reunited with your best friends, and it felt good to know that it would be you three that would shut down the Red Room once and for all.

Part 3

#ladies of marvel #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #black widow #natasha romanoff x reader #reader insert #x reader #black widow marvel #widow!reader #super soldier!reader #fem!reader #angst #fluff #smut #explicit language #explicit sexual content #violence #graphic injuries #blood

1 note · View note

thinking1bee · 9 hours

Text

235 FAVORITE SHIPS OF ALL TIME (ranked by my followers) 44. clarke griffin and commander lexa - the 100

#clexa #clarke griffin #commander lexa

314 notes · View notes

thinking1bee · 16 hours

Text

Who broke this man’s heart?

Ha a lélek vándorlásában hiszünk, el kell fogadnunk hogy ha zenészek voltunk, zenészek maradunk akkor is, ha négy lábbal újraszületünk..

#video #dog #doge #music

20K notes · View notes

thinking1bee · 16 hours

Text

Daniel is not fucking around 😭

Absolutely insane.

#iwtv spoilers #spoilers #iwtv #interview with the vampire #amc iwtv #amc interview with the vampire #armand #daniel molloy

2K notes · View notes

thinking1bee · 21 hours

Text

hooting and hollering

#iwtv spoilers

2K notes · View notes

thinking1bee · 21 hours

Text

IM HOLLERING 😭😭😭

louis was like "this is the love of my life...... the vampire armand....."

and I was like "girl...... you're both bottoms...... traumatized bottoms with daddy issues....... where are ur shitty boyfriends??????"

louis and armand out here having the world's most boring pathetic sex, they're like "we're so healthy, we have grown past our shitty-boyfriend-having phase, now we're always Safe Sane And Consensual 😌 we don't have unhinged sex anymore 😌😌😌" they are going insane. this is why louis is having a mental breakdown. he's been having intensely hinged sex for 77 years, like 100% slow lovemaking with clear communication and so much lube and always "one finger, two finger, three finger, cock" and the traffic-light consent system in place even though they don't practice any kinks that would involve words like "stop" and "hang on a sec" meaning anything but literally that. no one in this house has been rimmed in 77 years. Every night they have a very polite Discussion (it's not an argument, it's not) about whose turn it is to top because nobody here wants to. louis is not built to handle this psychologically. lestat's going to text him "hey mon cher miss u sooooo much i can't live without you, haha i got your number by killing some people at your phone company, actually several phone companies because i didn't know which network you're on, anyway come over and sit on my face WINK WINK i'll do that thing you like so much, you know the one!! the one where you're always like 'ew lestat you're so gross' but then it makes you come so hard you pass out [eggplant emoji, eggplant emoji, water drops emoji, blood drop emoji]" louis is going to see these texts and go into a fugue state and be OUT! THAT! DOOR! in nanoseconds. NANOSECONDS!!!! meanwhile lestat is double- and triple- and quadruple-texting about how he's always wanted to try roadhead and blithely using words like "pussy" in reference to louis' anatomy without asking if that's cool and also sending seven unsolicited dick pics clearly taken in an airplane bathroom

armand has never sent a dick pic in his life, even a solicited one, because it's "crass" and there are "privacy concerns" and he's "unsatisfied with the current standard of end-to-end encryption technology". lestat doesn't even know what end-to-end encryption is, and if he did he wouldn't care about it because "if a hacker is going to all that trouble to look at my nude photographs, louis, i think they've earned them :))) even though they could just follow me on instagram and tiktok or sign up for my onlyfans" this is why armand about to get dumped at terminal velocity. he doesn't even have instagram.

#interview with the vampire

2K notes · View notes

thinking1bee · 1 day

Text

The first and only time Lestat ever tells someone not to scream because of him (probably right after clawing his outraged way out of the abandoned hot topic that I can only assume was built over his snoozing spot)

Kudos to @stlelios and @pimini whose posts appeared on my for you page and launched these images directly into my mind’s eye

#iwtv #iwtv fanart #iwtv spoilers #lestat de lioncourt #daniel molloy #interview with the vampire #interview with the vampire amc

3K notes · View notes

thinking1bee · 1 day

Text

You Haven't Failed Part 6

Requested by Anonymous

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Tags: Spidey!Reader, Venom!Reader, So Much Angst, Fluff, Established Relationship, Graphic Depictions of Injuries, Blood, Violence, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Smut

Everything Taglist: @sammy90682 @nobody13 @owloftheshadows @captain-josslett @camslightstories @worldovart @finleyfray @acertainredhead @sammm9068 @reginassecretlover @ara-a-bird

“So,” Nick began as he laced his fingers together on his desk. “I saw the news.”

He reached under to grab his bottle of tequila and a shot glass. You winced as you watched him pour a shot. Normally, when he drank, it was for something funny because one of you did something stupid, but you couldn’t call this a funny moment. He topped the glass off and put the bottle down, but to your surprise, he moved the shot glass towards you.

“Are you okay?”

His gaze was kind, the brown in his eye softening as he regarded you with care. Your suit was ruined beyond repair, and it had to be disposed of, so as you sat in Nick’s office, you wore a shirt and a pair of jeans. You gladly took the shot and downed it. The alcohol settled heavily in your empty stomach, and you let the burn occupy your mind instead of the nightmarish thoughts that haunted you since last night.

Nick refilled the shot glass and drank one himself. You took a deep breath and rubbed your cheek.

“I’m still trying to figure that out.”

He nodded as he shuffled some paperwork on his desk. “Don’t worry about anything, okay? I’ve taken care of everything on this end. Take the next few days off if you need it. I gave the same proposition to Wanda. Spend time with each other.”

You nodded. You should be grateful to have this time with your girlfriend, but the beginnings of apathy were starting to replace everything else.

“Is Peter here?”

Nick nodded. “He should be in the gym.”

“Thanks,” you said with a small smile as you stood up.

You were almost out of the door when Nick stopped you.

“If you need to talk,” he began. “About anything, my door is always open. I don’t care if it’s about the weather. You’re welcomed in here.”

You nodded, offering him a weak smile, and headed towards the gym. Peter was inside, doing an insane sprinting circuit on the treadmill. When he heard you enter, he took off his headphones and gave you a smile.

“Y/n, hey!”

He easily jumped off the treadmill even as the belt still moved at a rapid speed. He jogged to you and used his shirt to wipe sweat off his head.

“How are you-?”

You wrapped your arms around him and crushed him into a hug. Peter wasn’t able to finish his sentence as he froze against you. You owed him. You owed everything to him. If he wasn’t there, you would have made an irreparable choice.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your eyes filling with tears. “Thank you for stopping me.”

He hugged you back, his arms encircling your entire being as he pulled you closer. You didn’t care that he was sweaty. Peter had to know just how much he saved your life.

“It’s okay,” he whispered. His hug tightened. “You’re going to be okay.”

After, you paid a visit to Tony.

“Hey, Stark,” you greeted when you entered his lab.

“Hey, what’s up?”

He was in the middle of repairing something, so when you walked in, he was wearing a mask while wielding a blow torch. Once he heard your voice, he stopped what he was doing and lifted the mask from his head.

“Would you be willing to make me a new suit?”

He shook his head. “No.”

“No?” you echoed incredulously. As many times as Peter and Tony hounded you to come to the latter to get a suit, you were surprised to hear his answer. It was his prerogative, but it was still very unexpected. He immediately cracked a smile.

“I’m just bullshitting you,” he chuckled. “Of course. I thought Petey and I were going to have to beg you.”

You laughed, his personality a welcome reprieve in your day.

“Was there something specific that you wanted?”

“Well, I was hoping to get something akin to the Iron Spider.”

Tony practically squealed and rubbed his hands together. “That is some of my best work, and I’ve been working on more upgrades. I’ll need your phone though.”

You quirked an eyebrow. “Tony, I don’t want any nudes or dick pics in my photos.”

“Oh, please,” he scoffed. “You can’t handle any of this.”

You watched, in horror, as he dragged his hands down his body in an attempt to be erotic. You dry heaved, your hand covering your mouth as you turned away.

“Oh, god. Pepper has the patience of a saint.”

Tony cackled and you watched as he uploaded blueprints to a hologram. He interacted with it, adding and trashing things as he went.

“Also, can we keep the suit low key?” you asked him.

“Low key? What does that even mean?”

“You have a habit of making things overly...ostentatious.”

He gasped dramatically, his hand clutching at his chest. “Et tu, Brute?”

You laughed. He must have heard this before, then. “The Iron Spider is great, Tony. Truly. But blue, red, and gold?”

“It’s called having taste, kid.”

You smirked. “We all can’t be rich assholes.”

Tony sat in his seat to begin working, but when he heard you, he spun around and pointed at you.

“Touché.”

You laughed and left him to his toys. The next few days were spent with Wanda. An air of domesticity filled your home. You spent the days cooking and cleaning with her. You shared kisses with her, watched movies with her, and played games with the team when they had the time. At one point you were on the couch, and Wanda was in your arms as she cuddled into you. Today was the day for the press conference, and though Wanda reassured you multiple times that you didn’t need to watch it, you told her that you did. You needed to know how the world perceived you now. Were you a friend or a foe? You watched Nick as he regarded the city. Flashing cameras highlighted his face as he spoke regally.

“After conducting a thorough investigation, we have decided that the Avenger involved in the incident a few weeks ago had a right to self-defense. They were fatally stabbed, and the pain and blood loss temporarily blinded them to their rage. We have noted the incident and taken care of the prisoner and his family.”

Reporters clamored around the podium, and they all raised their hands to get Nick’s attention. He pointed at someone as he began to take questions.

“How can you claim self-defense when that prisoner wasn’t armed? From the looks of the video, he’d already surrendered.”

Nick stared at him blankly. “He was armed. He had a machete in his hand. Besides, have you ever been stabbed?”

“No?”

“Okay, go get stabbed and let’s see how you react. Next, please.”

He pointed to another reporter.

“Isn’t there a power dynamic between Spidey and the prisoner that we’re ignoring here? Someone with powers just tried to kill a regular person who did not have any powers. Therefore, he did not have the means to defend himself.”

“Why are we ignoring the simple fact that up until that moment, Spidey hadn’t done anything wrong. That prisoner could just as easily surrendered before stabbing them,” Nick countered. “Why are we not talking about that? He decided to put another person’s life on the line to avoid going back to prison. He tried to kill them. The intent was clear and yet I’ve heard nothing about his actions so far. The Avengers are people too, with hopes and dreams and everything in between. They happen to be people who come with extra baggage. Every single one of them have lives and people who love them.”

“Well, they know that sacrifice comes with the job, correct?”

Nick stared at him for a second, incredulousness radiating from him as he absorbed the question. Then, he laughed humorlessly.

“Oh? So, should they lay down and die for you?” he asked him. The reporter went to respond, but Nick kept talking. “Are the Avengers your personal doormat now? Every time they wear their suits, should they not think about the lives they’ve put on hold to save your sorry asses?”

“T-That’s not what I was trying to insinuate.” The reporter’s eyes were wide, his cheeks red from the embarrassment of having Nick hammer him with questions.

“Oh, I think it is,” Nick said with a dry chuckle. “You want to talk sacrifice? Do you know how many Avengers put their lives on the line to defeat Thanos? Do you know the hell they went through to ensure that the population he dusted was brought back?”

Nick got louder and louder as he talked. Passion bled into his voice as he held eye contact with the crowd.

“I’m not saying that what Spidey did was morally justifiable, but the Avengers are not saints that are sworn to uphold an impossible ethical code. They know what the job entails and the values that they need to embody. The prisoner attacked Spidey, and Spidey defended themselves. That’s it. Was excessive force used? I’ll leave that up to the experts. That’s not my job nor do I care, but if that person had stabbed me, I personally would have put a bullet between his eyes. Let’s thank god I’m not out on the field.”

Nick faced the reporter as he said his next words.

“The Avengers are not droids. They are human beings with exceptional gifts who do what they do because they want to protect their home and the people who live in it. As human beings, they are susceptible to every human emotion on the spectrum, including, getting a little angry every now and then. Now sure, we can sit here and argue, and split some hairs, to point out that not everyone in the Avengers Initiative is human. That does not mean that they should be treated any differently. For you to say what you said lets me know that you have a certain level of audacity that many others may share with you. So, I will speak for our heros, and I will tell you right now that they are not here to clean up petty messes. What happened a few days ago, only happened because protocol was not being followed.”

The crowd murmured.

“Oh, yes, I looked it up. If someone had done their job correctly, this wouldn’t have happened. The Spiders chose to help. They were not ordered to. They aren’t here at your beck and call to stand by your side and do everything you want them to do with the snap of your fingers. They’re here to save the world, which they have done again, and again, and again.”

Nick stood up straight and clenched his jaw. “No more questions.”

Both you and Wanda were shocked speechless. To see him defend you so vehemently...tears were already gathering in your eyes.

“Wow,” Wanda breathed. “I didn’t know Nick cared about us like that.”

That was fair. He isn’t a very open individual, but you didn’t answer. You held Wanda closer to you and rested your cheek on the top of her head. She held your hand in hers, and you let yourself think about Nick’s words.

Part 7

#ladies of marvel #the avengers #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #reader insert #x reader #fem!reader #spidey!reader #venom!reader #graphic depictions of injuries #graphic depictions of violence #angst #so much angst #fluff #smut #violence #blood #feelings #lgbtqia

19 notes · View notes

thinking1bee · 1 day

Text

Lena Luthor on June 1

#lena luthor #katie mcgrath #supercorp #supergirl #pride month #pride

639 notes · View notes

thinking1bee · 1 day

Text

twitter historically sucks but man this is a banger of a tweet

43K notes · View notes

thinking1bee · 1 day

Text

MELISSA BARRERA

Cosmopolitan Mexico (May 2024)

#melissa barrera

409 notes · View notes

thinking1bee · 2 days

Text

Me really said

“What MURDAAAA?” 😭😭😭

a novel life pt.4

Summary: You were really starting to understand a few things about the younger generation. For example, every time you looked at Sam, you thought "I can fix her." It was happening a bit too frequently for your liking.

Word Count: 4.8k Warnings: Swearing, Scream levels of violence, suggestive themes Pairing: Samantha Carpenter x Reader (pt.1) (pt.2) (pt.3) (pt.4) (pt.5)

“Baby?”

You kept your eyes on whatever was on the floor.

“You broke it.”

“Tara, shut up.”

“Look at me.”

It wasn’t moving.

“Hey.”

The red creeped and crawled toward the flowers on the ground.

“Baby.”

Hands held both sides of your face and tried to pull you in the other direction. Gentle, but firm. It didn’t matter, they could pull all they wanted, it didn’t stop your eyes from staying glued to the thing in the middle of the living room floor. The shape was familiar, and you were aware that you should recognise it. But the harder you looked, the more the shape seemed to blur and distort.

“Stop looking at it.” Sam. “Look at me.”

You couldn’t.

You opened your mouth to answer, stopped to clear your throat, and started again. “Is that a body?”

Everyone seemed to hesitate.

“Yes,” Sam answered.

You nodded slowly.

“Is it dead?”

“I thought you were supposed to be smart.”

A sigh. “Tara.”

“Yes,” Sam repeated.

You nodded again. The red almost touched your shoes.

“It’s a dead body?”

“Jesus fuck, Sam, get them out.”

“Come on,” Sam said softly, keeping her hold on your face to pull you with her.

Your eyes never left the scene until she had pulled you into her room and shut the door behind you both. There was a dead body in Sam’s living room. A body. A dead one. In the living room. Right there on the floor. Visible to god and anyone who opened the front door. Which included you.

“You need to breathe,” Sam said. “Look at me and breathe.”

You inhaled deeply and blinked slowly. Only when you opened your eyes did you actually see Sam for the first time that evening. She looked stunning, as usual. Her beautiful brown eyes looked lovely in the artificial light of the apartment. You tried not to notice the blood on her arms.

Not even her beautiful, kissable face could distract you from the scene that had plastered itself behind your eyelids.

“There’s a dead body on your floor,” you said.

“It’s not what it looks like,” Sam said with a humourless chuckle.

“It looks like a dead body,” you repeated, “in your living room.”

She sighed. “Maybe it is what it looks like, but I can explain.”

You shook your head and took a half step back. Did you want an explanation? Perhaps you could act like you hadn’t seen anything. That would create plausible deniability, would it not? No, not entirely, you had still seen a body in your girlfriend’s apartment. Your deniability wouldn’t be that plausible.

As you took another half step back, you were finally far enough away to realise what was hanging off Sam’s frame. A black cloak. Or robe. Whatever it was, it was familiar. Very familiar. The only thing missing was the mask. Your head tilted slightly.

Perhaps you liked the robe. It looked… nice.

“Please let me explain,” Sam said as she stepped closer.

You took a step back, but nodded in her direction.

“He followed Tara home because he thought she was a kid,” she said. “It was for good reason.”

Good reason. Someone had died. Horrifically, if the amount of blood was anything to go by. And the amount of knives. Someone had clearly suffered. What about that explanation made it such a good-

-oh.

Okay, perhaps it was a good reason.

“Is this the first…” you sighed and shook your head, “accident?”

The way Sam’s face fell was answer enough.

“Okay,” you said with a nod. “Okay, I need to go home.” You couldn’t look at her. “I need to think.”

“I can walk you home-”

“-it’s okay,” you said. She stopped moving closer when you held your hands up in front of you. “I promise I’ll call.”

The look on her face was enough to break your heart, but it was sitting backseat to the body that you couldn’t help but look at as you walked out of the bedroom. J was already dragging it to the bathroom. They stopped, smiled, and waved at you before continuing to move. Beside them, Tara gave you a look that was akin to what you would give a dog at the shelter.

You bent down and picked up the flowers from the floor, placing them gently on the table. Blood started to pool underneath the petals as you left the apartment.

—---

Sleep had evaded you since you had gotten home a few nights ago. The world had simply kept turning. You had handed out the graded essays in class; you had introduced new material. You had ordered takeout because the last thing you needed was burnt food from your own kitchen. The world kept turning, and everything kept moving forward.

And you still hadn’t called Sam.

You had turned the volume off on your phone the moment you had gotten home. If you saw the notifications from Sam, you would cave and call her back instantly. Against all your better judgements that told you to think everything through, you would have called her and gone back to her apartment to face whatever trouble came your way.

There was no promise you wouldn’t still do that. But the least you could do was think through every aspect.

And you did. You tossed over every possibility, every facet of truth, every miniscule detail that may or may not have mattered, starting with the biggest fact; Sam was Ghostface. Or she was a Ghostface. Clearly Tara and J were involved to some degree. So on one hand, Sam was the only one, on the other hand, there were three Ghostfaces.

Splendid.

That knowledge forced your hand, and you bought all the books and movies and every little news article you could find, old and new. The movies were on in the background - they were far more disgusting than you had planned, you couldn’t bring yourself to truly pay attention - while you read the books. The majority came from that news reporter, Gale Weathers. They were a little tasteless, but seemed legit nonetheless.

Your handwriting littered the books, pointing out motives, tactics, patterns, anything you could find. Most were petty, certainly not worth killing for. At least Sam had given a fair reason; you could understand that one. Not killing people because your father had cheated on his wife.

Thankfully Sam hadn’t gotten that level of pettiness from her father.

Inevitably you found the online forums that claimed Sam had been the killer after Woodsboro. All the theories were, quite frankly, baseless. From an academic point of view, they would have been tossed out within the first few words. There was no reasoning, no critical thinking, simply everyone jumping at the chance to blame someone else because it was popular.

It was no wonder Sam had thought you were stalking her on the day you met her.

When all your research was said and done, you had what amounted to the entirety of a second thesis at your disposal. Everything from past Ghostfaces, their motives, conspiracies being disproved, all the way up to the most recent sighting not too long ago. In New York City. With J, Tara, and Sam in the news.

Things had added up, and you were ready to face the solution.

Sam answered before the first ring had finished.

“Are you all at the apartment?” You asked.

“Yeah,” Sam said; you could all but hear the relief in that one simple word. “We’re here.”

“Stay there, I’m coming over,” you said quickly. You nearly hung up, but spoke again. “I’ll bring dinner.”

You didn’t wait for Sam to say anything else; you were in the proper headspace you needed for the upcoming conversation, and you couldn’t risk losing it because you missed her. Stay strong, you told yourself, say what you need to say. You weren’t going to get sidetracked, this was going to be solved, and you weren’t going to let anything get in your way.

Except for the rundown pizza place on the way to the Carpenter apartment. It was a rather delicious place, somewhere you wouldn’t have imagined visiting if it hadn’t been for Sam. You grabbed the three pizzas you knew everyone would eat, making sure to tip generously before continuing the trip to the apartment.

You also stopped for some more flowers.

And a few sweets.

And that new game you knew J had been wanting.

But then you were finishing your walk to their apartment because nothing could stop you. You were brave. You were going to talk with Sam, and you were going to talk with everyone, and you were all going to come to some form of conclusion so you could close out this thesis and move forward.

The walk up the apartment building stairs was more terrifying than it had ever been in the past. But you were brave. You took it step by step, giving yourself a pep talk with each flight. By the time you got to the apartment door, you were feeling thoroughly hyped. Nothing could stop you. Not even the… door that you… couldn’t open… because your hands were too full…

You set the bags on the floor to open the door, but then you were walking back into the apartment. A man on a mission, that’s how your dad had always described people that walked with the same attitude you were in that moment. It didn’t matter that you wouldn’t look up just yet even when you knew they were all looking at you. You closed the door, set the bags and flowers and pizzas on the table, and then you looked up.

And oh god, you had missed Sam so much.

When it was all said and done, you had actually only been away from Sam for eight days; barely over a week. No time at all where most things were concerned. But each minute that ticked by had been agonisingly slow, almost painful to the very atoms that made up your being.

“Grab your dinner,” you said with authority. And a shaky voice. “And back on the couch so we can talk.”

Tara tried to hide a laugh, and J wasn’t far from doing the same, but that was okay. They could laugh at your attempts at being brave; as long as they listened. And they did. You got out the plates and handed them to everyone so they could grab their food before they politely made their way back to the living room.

You made sure to give Sam a kiss on the cheek when she passed.

“Now,” you said as you stood in front of everyone on the couch. “We’re going to talk about what happened.”

“Hell yeah,” J said around an already full mouth, “lay down the law.”

“Thank you,” you said. They gave you an enthusiastic thumbs up. “We’ll start with last week.”

Everyone was silent, sans the occasional sound of chewing. That was good, they were going to let you talk. Perhaps they had prepared for such a situation. Surely they had seen this coming at some point, right? It wasn’t like they thought they could get away with murder forever, right?

Right?

“Sam told me the reason you-” you sighed and shook your head, “-and it’s an understandable reason.”

“Understandable?” Tara asked. “I think it was a bit more than that.”

“The Professor is talking,” J said, “don’t interrupt class.”

“Please continue,” Sam said with that small smile that always made your knees weak.

No, focus. You had a mission.

“We all know murder is wrong,” you said. “Illegal, even.” You looked each of them in the eye. J was nodding enthusiastically, Tara rolled her eyes, and Sam… wouldn’t meet your gaze. “Since we’re all in agreement, I have a few questions.”

“I didn’t study for a pop quiz,” J said.

“I’ve seen you study,” Tara said, “it wouldn’t have helped.”

“Have I told you I love when you’re mean?” J asked with a lovesick smile. It was precious.

And unnecessary.

“A few questions!” You repeated a little louder. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Sam pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Please just ask,” Sam said without removing her hand.

“Okay,” you said softly, folding your hands behind your back, “when did all of this start?”

“After the New York attacks,” Sam said.

“I’m still salty about that,” J mumbled, quickly taking another impossibly large bite of their pizza.

“They’ve healed well,” Tara said softly. In a rare gesture of kindness - at least in front of you - she lifted her hand and gently brushed her thumb over the scars on their cheeks.

You gave them a moment before clearing your throat to get their attention once again.

“Who all is involved in these…” you bit your bottom lip as you considered your wording, “activities?”

“You mean murders?” Tara clarified.

“Stop it,” Sam said with a pointed look before facing you again. “All of us.”

“I feel like we’re in detention,” J whispered.

“You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?” Tara asked. The niceties were long gone, it seemed.

You nodded at the information, ignoring Tara’s gibes. “All of you,” you said to yourself. Your feet froze in place, stopping your pacing. “Which one of you did I see in the alley that night?” You asked, turning to face them.

“That was me!” J said proudly with their hand raised high. “Did I scare you?”

“So badly I was sick,” you said instantly.

“Hell yeah,” they mumbled with a cocky nod of their head as they leaned back on the couch. “That was a good night.”

You stood there and watched as they looked at each other with not shame, but abject exasperation. So that was their attitude about the entire thing. You should have known, it wasn’t entirely a surprise. The fact that J had waved at you before you left last week should have been enough of a warning. But it didn’t exactly sit right with you.

There should have been shame from murdering someone. Your research had told you the Ghostfaces of the past had been particularly remorseless in their actions, but the three people in front of you weren’t like them. They were troubled, but they were kind. They had accepted you - even if it took Tara a bit of time - and had allowed you to care for them.

Sam was your Sam. Nothing about her was indicative of some internal Ghostface turmoil. She was soft. Night after night, she sat with you and talked out her feelings from the week. Multiple times she had voiced her frustration at being a Loomis, stating she was better than her genetics.

Nothing was adding up.

You had walked into this meeting with a plan; measure their responses to the allegations and get them to stop. But you very well couldn’t convince them to stop if they suspiciously felt no remorse or shame, could you? There wouldn’t be near as big of an impact if they didn’t agree with your arguments in the first place. That alone left you with very few options.

You stood up straight.

Very few didn’t equate to zero.

“Would any of you be willing to stop?” You clarified.

Sam opened her mouth.

“No,” Tara cut her off. Sam didn’t argue. “We just wouldn’t tell you.”

“Very well,” you said with a nod to yourself. “Then we’re going to come up with a few rules.”

“You’re putting rules?” Tara asked. “On Ghostface?”

“No,” you said, “I’m putting rules on the three of you.”

“Oh shit,” J said while Sam tried to hide a smile, “we got ourselves a mastermind.”

You did your best to hide your visible flinch. Perhaps this wasn’t going to be such a wonderful idea. Would you be connected to all of this? What if they were found out? What if you were found out? You couldn’t hold up under pressure, what if someone interrogated you? No, no this wasn’t going well at all.

But they all sat dutifully in front of you, waiting to hear what you had to say. You couldn’t just leave, or change your mind, and it was far too late to pretend you hadn’t seen what you had. No, you were going to have to be brave. You were brave.

You were brave.

—---

It turned out you were, in fact, not brave.

In the moment, you hadn’t been able to come up with a genuine rule for any of them. The only one you had managed to get out was “please don’t do it in my apartment.” Which, to your delight, they had all readily agreed to. Aside from that, you had stumbled over your words and decided you would come up with rules later.

Tara had laughed. You couldn't even be upset about it.

At least you could see Sam again, which, in the end, made everything worth it. You had missed holding her, and feeling her hands on your neck, and her lips pressed against yours. No one said a word when you stayed the night, doing nothing but holding Sam close and reminding her how much you had missed her.

“I’m sorry,” Sam said from your couch; her books were lined neatly on the table. Something you had loved about her from the very first moment you had seen her study.

“For what, darling?” You asked as you sat down beside her. She mumbled a “thank you” as she took her plate from you.

“Ghostface,” she said softly. You quickly turned to look at her even as she averted her own eyes.

“Oh,” you said before looking back down at your plate. You didn’t quite know how to respond to that. “It’s alright.”

“It’s not,” she said quickly.

You sighed and placed your plate on the table. Not on her books, of course. Then you took her plate as gently as possible, placing it down as well before turning to face her. Not just look at her, but to properly face her. If she wished to talk, you would give her your full attention.

“You deserve more,” she said.

So that’s where it was going. Okay. Now this, you could handle this.

“Before you go on this tirade of self-abuse,” you said, reaching out to grab her hands and pull them into your lap, “may I say something?”

After a slight hesitation, Sam nodded once.

“You and I are both old enough to make our own decisions, yes?” She nodded slowly. “Then trust I am old enough to know what I do and do not deserve.” Her eyes fell to her hands in your lap. “If I felt you were not what I truly wanted, I wouldn’t have stayed.”

“You don’t need to be brought into all of this,” Sam said anyway with a shake of her head. “You’re better than some traumatised Woodsboro kids.”

“I’m not better,” you said quickly, “just different.”

“Sounds the same to me,” she said with a humourless laugh.

“Samantha Carpenter, my darling dearest,” you said. You waited until she looked back up at you before you brought her knuckles to your lips, leaving the softest of kisses upon them. “I love you dearly and no, ah,” you laughed lightly, “hobby of yours will turn me away.”

There was a light blush on her cheeks when she met your eyes. “You love me?”

Oh.

Oh dear.

“Was that the first time I’ve said so?” You asked.

“Yeah,” Sam said with a smile.

You sighed. “Far less romantic than I had planned.” Your eyes widened as you looked back up. “But no less true,” you said quickly.

She shook her head before leaning forward, and you eagerly met her halfway. Her lips were soft; they always were. The faintest taste of tobacco always lingered no matter how long it had been since her last cigarette. A constant in the ever-changing lives you both led. If you could have found a way to frame it all to keep with you forever, you would have.

“I love you too,” she mumbled against your lips.

You held still as she moved across the couch, crawling into your lap and kissing you again. Her hands rested on your neck and not for the first time, you did your best to keep your cool. It was something about the contrast between the gentleness of her kisses and the strength in her hands. You were putty under her fingers; she knew it.

It wouldn’t be polite to ravage her before she had eaten dinner. If there was one thing you knew about Sam, it was that she would forget to eat. Often. And as ready as you were for a very particular meal of your own, you couldn’t push back the concern of when she had eaten last. Truly eaten, because everyone knew neither she nor Tara had enough free time to cook for themselves very often.

“Darling,” you said softly. Her nails scratched lightly against your neck as she hummed for you to continue. “You need to eat.”

“I’d love to,” she said, her lips already starting to move across your jaw.

“Real food,” you clarified.

You felt more than heard her huff before her head fell into the crook of your neck. She didn’t like when you laughed at her, so you didn’t. Not out loud, at least. Your thumbs rubbed against her lightly exposed hips until she relaxed a little more under your touch.

“Now?” She asked.

“Now,” you repeated.

Sam sighed again, but lifted her head and looked down at you. The unhappiness was clear on her face. Quite frankly, at that moment, you didn’t care. There was plenty of time left in the evening to have your fun, and she would thank you later for making sure she had eaten something.

“Do quickies require food first?” She asked. Her eyes fell slowly along with her hands, raking her nails lightly along your skin until she reached the first button of your shirt.

“Yes they do,” you said.

She undid the second button.

“Are you sure?” She asked.

You swallowed loudly. She undid the third button, and you could feel her fingers ghosting across your skin. Perhaps she made a good point, perhaps you didn’t have to have food before a quickie. After all, that was the whole point, was it not? To do it before getting back to everything else? And when she bit her bottom lip and looked at you, you knew you were a goner.

She knew it too.

“Maybe we have a little time-”

-the door to your apartment flew open, hitting the wall with a bang. Your hands gripped Sam’s waist as you both jumped and looked toward the commotion. The door slammed shut once again before you could properly get a good look at who was in the two black robes.

“Hey guys, wanna watch a movie?” J asked breathlessly.

“Are you serious?” Sam asked; she still didn’t remove herself from your lap.

“I just wanted to freak him out,” Tara said as she held her arm. You noticed a single drop of blood on the floor. “He had creeped out Anika.”

“There was one rule, Tara,” Sam said.

“It was this or go to jail, which would you prefer?” Tara asked.

“I’d prefer if you were more careful-”

-a knock at the door caused everyone to shut up and freeze.

“NYPD,” the muffled voice said from the other side of the door.

“Fuck,” J whispered.

You couldn’t really argue with that statement. No one had moved, and the police were still right outside the door. Sam’s nails dug into your skin, leaving behind a sting that, in any other situation, would have been lovely. But this wasn’t any other situation, you were all frozen while the police knocked on the door again.

“Go to my room,” you said as you lifted Sam off your lap and stood up. “Lock the door.” Tara and J nodded before running as quickly as they could to your room. “Stay here,” you told Sam.

You gave her a quick kiss before heading over to the door. Your fingers played with the buttons on your shirt before you decided better of it. Behind you, you could hear Sam stand up. With a deep breath in and a slow exhale, you decided to be brave and opened the door.

The policeman instantly looked you up and down before looking behind you. You hoped he saw Sam in slight disarray. A second policeman was leaning against the wall outside, not even having the decency to look at you before speaking.

“Did two people in black robes come in here?” He asked in a gruff voice.

“No sir,” you said quickly, “no visitors today.”

“You sure?” The first officer asked. “We saw them run into this building.”

You needed to come up with a better lie. Something more convincing. What could be convincing enough? You couldn’t blame the neighbours, you knew nothing of them. If they saw the two coming into the building, you would have to think of something. What would work? Clearly those fancy degrees you had meant nothing.

Ah.

Maybe not entirely useless.

“I’m really sorry, I haven’t noticed anything,” you said. “I’ve been a little, ah,” you cleared your throat and looked back at Sam. She gave you a small smile, and you turned back to the police, “preoccupied tonight.”

The officer looked behind you. You didn’t dare turn away and waited patiently for him to focus on you once again. Hopefully he couldn’t hear your heart attempting to beat out of your chest. He just needed to hurry and leave.

“I’m sorry we interrupted your night,” the officer finally said. “Thank you both for your time.”

You nodded and gave them both a smile. “Stay safe, officers.”

They tipped an invisible hat at you before leaving, and you didn’t wait for them to be very far before closing and locking the door. You let out a heavy sigh and let your head fall against the door with a solid thud. That was… far too close. Was that something they had all dealt with before? Had the police come to their doors before?

You took a deep breath and stood back up. Okay, you were brave, you had been very brave. When you turned around, Sam was still looking at you, but there was a different look in her eyes. You didn’t know what it was; at that moment, you were still too wound up to care.

“Come on out,” you said once you had walked over to Sam and wrapped your arms around her waist.

“They’re gone?” Tara asked while J opened the door.

“Yes,” you said with a nod, “they’re gone.”

“I thought we were fucked,” J said.

“I wish I was,” Sam mumbled softly enough for only you to hear.

You ignored the heat in your face. “Not tonight,” you said.

“Thank you,” Tara said in an uncharacteristic show of gratitude. “We didn’t know where else to go.”

“You can always come here,” you said. Tara nodded and made as if she was going to leave the apartment with J. “Don’t even think about it.”

Sam sighed.

“We need to go get cleaned up,” Tara said.

“You can clean up here,” you said forcefully. Or you hoped that’s how it came out. “Then we’re laying down some ground rules.”

Tara kept eye contact with you. You would have caved at any other point in time; there was nothing more terrifying than a Carpenter. It wasn’t questionable, there was no room for argument, it was a matter of fact. But you had just lied to the police for the first time in your life. Ever! If this was going to be a common occurence, then you were going to stand your ground.

“This is fucking ridiculous,” Tara mumbled, but grabbed J’s hand and dragged them to the guest bathroom anyway.

“Thank you,” Sam said softly once she heard the shower turn on.

“Of course,” you said, placing a lingering kiss behind her ear. An idea sparked in your mind. “How long do you think it’ll take them?”

“Tara showers slow,” she said as she turned around in your arms to face you. “And if they’re both in there, it’ll be a while.”

You hummed and pressed a kiss to her lips. “I did tell the police we were preoccupied,” you said as you started manoeuvring her to the couch.

“Yes you did,” she said with a slowly growing smile.

“I’d hate to lie to them,” you continued, followed by another kiss.

Sam let herself fall onto the couch, pulling you down with her. She wasted no time in getting to work on the remaining buttons of your shirt. Her lips felt heavenly. You knew she still needed to eat, but something more important had come up.

Besides, you were happier to eat out anyway.

#samantha carpenter x reader #sam carpenter x reader #samantha carpenter imagine #sam carpenter imagine

405 notes · View notes

thinking1bee · 2 days

Text

Unholy Heart Part 20

Requested by Anonymous

Pairings: Lena Luthor x Reader

Tags: Vampire!Reader, Vampire Hunter!Lena Luthor, Graphic Descriptions of Injuries, Explicit Sexual Content, Blood, Intense Gore, Violence, Explicit Language, Blood Drinking, Non-Sexual and Non-Drug Related Human Trafficking, Fluff, Smut

Additional Notes: In part 18, Reader brutally kills a whole bunch of police officers. This is your warning to not read that part if it will affect you negatively

Everything Taglist: @sammy90682 @nobody13 @owloftheshadows @captain-josslett @camslightstories @worldovart @finleyfray @acertainredhead @sammm9068 @reginassecretlover @ara-a-bird

A sickening crunch in your neck and a sharp stabbing pain in your thigh was what forced you awake. Your neck snapped back into place suddenly, and you awoke with a strangled scream right as you felt a needle slide out of the muscle of your thigh. You bolted upright, the world around you spinning disgustingly as you choked around the thick lump of pain lodged in your throat.

You had no idea where the hell you were. You also realized that you couldn’t focus. Violent, fractured memories tinged with darkness and colored in red bled into the room you were in now. Flashes of mutilated bodies and bloodied, disfigured faces had you scrambling back onto the couch you woke up on. Whimpers tumbled from your mouth as you squeezed your eyes closed, your brain in overdrive as you tried to figure out what happened and how you got here. Echoing screams surrounded you as you saw haunting visions of the people you killed. A pair of soft hands gently, but firmly, pivoted your panicked gaze to looked into emerald green eyes.

“Eyes on me, love,” a familiar voice said.

Your eyebrows furrowed tightly, your wide, manic eyes focusing on her as sweat dripped down the sides of your head. Fingers lightly scratched your skin, and you were hyperventilating as you still tried to scramble backwards.

“Breathe, Y/n,” Lena urged you. “Breathe.”

You nodded rapidly, the tip of your tongue wetting your dry lips as you looked around. Lena’s apartment. You were back in Lena’s apartment. You recognized the living area, and had already woken up here once before. The smell of her scent saturated the air, and you took deep breaths of it as you willed yourself to calm down. Lena was kneeling in front of you, her knees on the hardwood floor while her body leaned over the couch to reach you. It took you a moment to realize that Lena was in front of you. The last you saw her, she’d taken a bullet in the back, and that’s when your memory became less than reliable. She was here. She was alive. She was okay.

Before you could think better of it, you grabbed Lena and pulled her into a hug, your eyes filling with tears as you buried your nose into her neck.

“You’re okay,” you breathed into her. Lena hugged you back, her strength matching your fervor.

“I’m okay,” she reassured you.

You pulled back to look at her. She was okay. She was alive, and she wasn’t in pain. Lena actually looked…clean. You took a moment to truly take her in. The blood and gore were gone from her. Her dark hair spilled over her shoulder, and you could smell the light scent of her shampoo wafting from the tresses. She was dressed in nothing but an oversized shirt, her arms and legs bare to you. She showered. Lena had time to shower. You looked at yourself and discovered you were the same. You were also cleaned and dressed in a massive shirt…except you weren’t wearing underwear. You realized that with Lena in between your opened legs, which was your doing when you pulled her in for a hug. You stared in between your bodies before looking at her.

“I realize now that I could have at least put you in some shorts or something,” Lena commented when she scratched her eyebrow. She averted her gaze up awkwardly, her lips pursing together thinly.

“You bathed me?” you asked, disbelief evident on your features.

“The last time we did this, my couch was ruined. This one has to last.”

A dry laugh left you before you settled back and let Lena go. She slid out of your arms to sit next to you, the light amusement on her face morphing into concern. You wiped a hand down your cheek as a tired sigh left you. Everything was quiet except for the heavy sounds of your breathing.

“What are you thinking about?” Lena asked quietly.

You met her eyes, yours watering with tears. “I-I killed them. I hurt Alex.”

Your voice broke when you said it and your tears ran scorching hot down your cheeks. Lena settled next to you, her expression so sad as she watched you bury your face into your hands. She could tell that you were about to spiral, especially when the sobs were beginning to get louder. You needed a distraction.

“Can I ask you something?”

You looked at her, your eyes red and your cheeks splotchy. You didn't answer but waited for her question.

“How did you turn?”

You looked away, and as you thought about it, your hand came to rub at the bite mark right above your chest. You tried really hard not to think about that day or the events afterwards, but your mind latched on to it, and now, it was all that you could think about. You took a breath, your exhale shaky and your body shuddering as you wiped the tears from your eyes.

“I was honestly at the wrong place at the wrong time,” you admitted. “I was working at Catco, and it was another long night as usual. I wrapped up and was walking home when I was snatched off the street.”

Lena felt the blood drain from her face as she listened to you, her heart beating harder and harder with every word you said.

“I tried to fight back but, he was too strong, and the next thing I knew, I had teeth sinking into my chest. I wish that I can say that he was gentle, but he tore into me, biting chunks and tearing them out pieces at a time until his fangs hit my collarbone.”

“Fuck,” Lena whispered in horror.

“I choked on my own blood before I could bleed out. Even when I died, he wasn’t done with me. I thought that I would remain dead, but he brought me back to life,” you paused as you considered the choice of words. “In a manner of speaking, I mean. When I woke up, I woke up naked and in a morgue. I was in one of those cabinets where they store bodies to be processed.”

Lena couldn’t even imagine. The fear. The fear that you must have felt to wake up in total darkness. She rubbed at the goose bumps that were appearing on her bare arms.

“Even in a metal box, everything was too loud. Everything was too bright. Everything was so intense. I couldn’t process the overload of sensory information that was being thrown at me. Couple that in with the fact that I had no idea where I was or what happened to me between waking up where I was and dying in the alleyway, I panicked. I kicked at the door only for that single kick to send it flying into the opposite wall. I destroyed the latch and hinges before crawling out.”

“What did you feel?”

“Scared at first,” you answered but Lena shook her head.

“That’s not what I mean. What did you feel?”

You understood what she was asking and nodded. “I felt what I feel now. Nothing.”

“Nothing?” Lena asked.

“Nothing.”

Lena didn’t know what to say and you could tell that she didn’t understand what you meant.

“Imagine being stuck in a body that doesn’t need to eat, that doesn’t need to drink, that doesn’t require sleep, that doesn’t even need to breathe. At the very least I should feel hunger or fatigue. Lena, I feel nothing. I don’t feel pain unless it’s from silver, and I can’t really feel pleasure. That day in your bathroom was the only time I felt anything. It wasn’t until tonight that I understood how so many people succumb to the violence. There is no pleasure except in blood. The only thing I feel is the thirst and the satisfaction that comes with quenching it.”

You rubbed your forehead aggressively and you sniffed. You were terrified to admit this next part out loud, but the words were falling from your lips before you could stop them.

“Now that it finally happened to me, I understand how addicting it all is, how exhilarating it all was. Lena,” you whispered, and you watched as her eyes fell on you. “It excited me to butcher those people. That is the first time that I’ve felt anything in almost a year. I felt so alive and that feeling that terrifies me.”

Lena didn’t know what to say. She hadn’t known that it was this bad. In her mind, she thought that vampires were making conscious choices to be as brutal as they were, and while a part of that was still true, hearing how hard it was to control all of this made her heart ache for you. It put into perspective just how much you suffered in the year you’ve dealt with this.

You sighed, the tears drying on your cheeks to leave salted tracks that itched minutely against your skin. “What’s the story with yours?”

“Which one?”

“The one on your neck,” you asked since that was the only bite mark on that location. Lena smiled bitterly, her hand absentmindedly rubbing the spot where teeth had torn into her.

“My brother.”

“Lex Luthor is a vampire?!” you blurted, the question out of your lips before you could think of stopping it.

Lena chuckled and shrugged. “I mean…are you surprised?”

Considering all of the evil shit Lex did in the past, maybe it shouldn’t be as shocking as it was, but something was confusing you.

“How is he a vampire and you’re not?”

“Remember when I told you that my biological mom was made to look like she drowned in a lake?” she asked, and you nodded.

“I said a vampire did it, but what I didn’t say that it was Lex who did it.”

“Why???”

Of all the things he could’ve-

“I was the result of an affair. This happened before Lionel became a vampire, but once he did, he turned Lex and Lillian into one too. Lionel knew of my existence but was ashamed of the slight on the family name, so he kept me hidden. Of course, Lex found out and confronted Lionel about it. When Lionel told him not to hurt me, Lex killed him. Then, he hunted me down and killed my mom. He tried to get me too, but I had a silver necklace that I wore. It was a gift from my mother, and as he tried to rip my neck off, I took the necklace and shoved it down his throat. He screamed like a bitch while he tried to throw up the necklace I made him swallow. The neighbors heard of what happened and they took me in. Then, Lillian found out about me and shipped me to the states. It’s because of her that Lex doesn’t kill me immediately. We don’t get along, but she does somewhat care.”

“How old were you when this happened?”

“Four.”

Fuck. The scars looked at least a few years old at best. Lex tried to kill her. He really tried to kill Lena when she was a toddler.

“How did you survive that?”

She shrugged. “I almost didn’t.”

You didn’t know what to say so you let the conversation die. Silence filled the air, and the only thing that you could hear was Lena’s steady heartbeat.

“What are we going to do?” you asked solemnly.

“I need to sleep, and then tomorrow, we have to talk to Alex.” She turned to look at you. “Are you tired?”

You shrugged. After the day you had, you had the desire to sleep for days, but your mind was too wired for rest. You knew that you were going to be plagued with nightmares.

“I can stay up.”

Lena arched an eyebrow. “You may not need it, but sleep is still important, okay? Keep doing the things that still make you feel human. If you want, you can sleep with me.”

You raised your eyebrows. “I don’t know…”

“You should be okay for the next day or two. I injected a large dose of serum into you.”

That reassured you, the breath you were holding releasing at her words. Honestly, you needed to be held, and something told you that Lena needed the same. With a tired look, you gave her a tentative nod. Lena got up and took your hand.

“Follow me.”

Part 21

4 notes · View notes