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authorkun · 3 years

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𝓒𝓾𝓽! 𝓣𝓱𝓪𝓽'𝓼 𝓪 𝓦𝓻𝓪𝓹!

"Good Morning everyone! How are you doing this fine morning?"

The crowd roared into cheers and shouts. The moderator waved at a few audience members. "Today, we have a few special guests with us! You might have seen before on your own tv. Please welcome the cast members of Jujutsu Kaisen, L/n, Kugisaki, Itadori, and Fushiguro!" The audience cheered again seeing the actors walk out from backstage.

The four took a seat on the pristine couches, waving and smiling at the cameras. Their outfits seemed to match the colors of blue and white. Yuuji wore baggy denim jeans, a white hoodie, and a matching denim vest, and converse. A Fannypack slung around his chest. Nobara wore similar attire of a cropped zipped hoodie, loose jeans, and combat boots.

M/n squished in between the two wore a loose button down with newspaper like designs, bleach patched jeans, and sneakers. Megumi, sitting at the other end of the couch wore an oversized blue and white jacket with a white t shirt underneath, black skinny jeans, and Nike shoes.

M/n sent a dashing smile towards the crowd earning an uproar of cheers. When the four had sat down the audience calmed down.

"Alrighty then! How are you guys? It's great to finally have you on the show!" The host greeted warmly shifting slightly in her chair. "Ah I think I can speak for all of us, we're doing great! It's such a pleasure being here today!" L/n spoke taking the lead. A wide grin plastered on his face.

"As you may know, Jujutsu Kaisen is a new uprising show. Popular among many young adults this year. Ranked number 2 in the shows most watched. Taking the cake as one of the fastest to gain audience grossing. So, how is staring in one of the most popular shows in Japan?" Small clips of the show played while the hostess talked.

The screen fading back to the four. "It's amazing, being apart of a show like this. It's almost scary seeing yourself on tv." Itadori explained, M/n chuckled at the small twinkle in his eye. "It's like a dream come true. Really, the director is one of the nicest person you could meet." Kugisaki added. "If I'm not wrong, your twin plays as Sukuna?" The attention adverted towards Itadori.

"Uh, yeah. Actually when we auditioned, we tried out for the opposing role. Although we look alike his voice is a bit different. But the voice he uses in the show is purposely rougher." The memory of the shocked face of the director seeing the two. "Initially they were going to use one actor and mix the scenes together. But right before filming the idea had gone out the window." A picture of the two on set played on the tv.

"This show was both of your big breaks. It was also one of L/n's and Fushiguro's major roles. Before you guys had starred in smaller productions right?" The hostess leaned her chin on her hand. "Yeah, I was in a few smaller films before an old friend suggested auditioning. That's actually a funny story of how I got the part. Do you guys want to hear it?" The audience cheered. "An old friend knocked on my door and shoved the script into my hands.

It looked like he ran a marathon, as he basically slumped over in exhaustion. Standing in front of me he frantically starts yelling bits of sentences. He looked at me and was like," M/n had put his arm out panting slightly imitating the guy's stature. "Role....*pant*..... Big break *pant*....Audition for main role...*pant*." The crowd laughed at his portrayal. "First, I actually auditioned for the main role, but then the twins came along and blew it out of the water." He playfully sent a glare towards his friend who sat next to him.

"Your part is as a second-year with Zenin, Inumaki, and Kouichi (Panda) . But it seems your character has a lot of screen time." The hostess leaned in a little more interested.

"Yeah my character likes to hang out with the first-years a lot more. Not that the other second-years are bad. Zenin is like my sister."

A soft smile never leaving his lips. "Speaking about cast relationships, what's the dynamics with you guys?" Kugisaki, Itadori, and L/n gave each other looks before cracking up. Megumi rolled his eyes playfully at the three. "We're all pretty close, but ask anyone who works with us and they'll say these three are joined by the hip." Fushiguro explained with a small smile at the others. "Could you expand more on that?"

"At the beginning before the table read, the producers and director thought it was a good idea for us plus Shinji (Sukuna) to 'bond'...in response to that Gojo, shoved us into a room, locked it, and told us to 'get along." The audience laughed at the male's expression.

"After like 5 minutes of silence these three start dying of laughter. After i think, two hours, Gojo comes back and slams open the door. By the time he did that we were already pretty close. He looked out of breath, and had this frightened look on his face. Then he tells us, he had forgotten that he locked us in the cramped room..." the audience laughed again as the raven head shifted in his seat.

"See they went on break for about an hour and a half, when they had gotten ready to continue, they realized we weren't there. Don't tell anyone this but, Gojo has a horrible memory. He said they looked for us for a half an hour and were about to call security, because none of them had our phone numbers. Anyways in summary, after those two hours these idiots come out attached at the hip, and became everyone's pain in the ass." He sent a sarcastic glare towards his friends.

The crowd was roaring in laughter at the story. "We actually have some bloopers and videos you guys have posted. Do you mind if we play some?" The audience cheered in a 'yes'. "Sure, why not?" M/n answered.

On the same tv they started playing the small compilation of videos. The first one qued was one Itadori had posted on his story. It showed him with his costume on.

'So, just started filming today and this dumbass hurts himself doing absolutely nothing.' Yuuji had showed M/n holding a ice pack to his forehead with sunglasses on. The male shot up a peace sign towards the camera. The audience chuckled at the current L/n's embarrassment. 'This stupid f*cker made us redo the scene, because somehow he doesn't know how to stand. Randomly during the shot he's shown trying to lean on an invisible force and falls flat on his face.'

The next video shown was the actual footage that Itadori explained. In the video it was zoomed in on M/n, who like he said was standing and leaned to his left. You could see the horror in his eyes as he fell. The caption being, 'This dumb bitch🥰'. Another fit of laughter came from the crowd.

The next video that played was in the POV of M/n as the camera flipped showing the back side of Shinji with Sukuna's famous tattoos. He ran up and slapped a pie tin with just whipped cream in his face. "What the hell! Get back here you bitch!" You could hear M/n's laugh while the feed was a bit blurry. Karma seemed to hit has the male tripped and fell onto the concrete.

The video ended with a blurry picture. The studio was filled in laughter as the male in the video sat embarrassingly between his friends who were also dying. Yuuji was slumped over his friend, wheezing.

Timeskip

"Well as great as this has been, we have to say goodbye to these amazing actors."

The hostess said with a smile. The audience boo'ed at the statement. "It was such a pleasure to be here. Hopefully we'll get to be on here again in the future." With that, M/n sent a wink and signature dashing smile towards the crowd before walking off with the others. Getting off the stage he sighed out in relief. "Oí those interviews are exhausting."

"You can say that again." Yuuji smiled. "I'm starved who else wants to get out of here?" Nobara complained swiping through her phone. "How about that diner down the street. The ratings are pretty good." The (h/c) haired male suggested. "Yeah sure. I'm pretty sure we're off the hook anyways." Fushiguro said grabbing a water bottle from the table.

"I think the driver's waiting out back. I'm gonna leave, cause I'm not waiting on you slowpokes." Kugisaki snickered. "Hey! We're coming too!" Itadori yelled chasing after her with the two others trailing behind. Before M/n could walk out the exit a hand had tapped his shoulder. Turning back, it was the hostess with a innocent smile. "Can I help you?" The brunette had twirled a piece of hair between her index finger and thumb. "Would you perhaps want to go out sometime?" A confident smirk played on her face. "Ah, sorry most of my schedule is booked up with filming and interviews. If I would I could." He shyly scratched his neck sending an awkward smile towards the girl.

"I bet you could make time~" she persisted. "Sorry I-." "Oi n/n we're waiting on your slow ass!" M/n silently thanked Kugisaki for interrupting the girl's persistent flirting. "My friends calling, I've got to go. It was nice to meet you though!" He sent one last smile before running off to the car his friends were waiting in. "What took you so long?" Itadori whined. "The hostess insisted on going out with me." He shivered at the thought. "Yikes. I swear you always get hit on anywhere we go." Megumi groaned. "Hey it's not my fault I'm hot." M/n stuck his tongue out. A light blush dusted across Fushiguro's face.

"Aye stop flirting with each other. We're heading for the diner across 9th." Nobara once again interrupted, giving instructions to the driver.

"Next stop, food!"

To be continued

#jujutsu kaisen x male reader #jjk x reader #seme male reader #gojo satoru x top male reader #itadori yuji x top male reader #jjk sukuna #jjk megumi #jjk gojo #jjk itadori #jjk zenin #jjk inumaki #jujutsu kaisen x reader #actor au #au

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egcdeath · 3 years

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checkmate

summary: you’ve always refused to lose, and love was no exception. (gone girl-ish au)

pairing(s): ransom drysdale x dark!reader, a special mystery guest ;)

word count: 3.7k

warnings: 18+ because of heavy themes! faked death, framing of crimes, manipulation, alluding to sex, alluding to cheating, terrible relationship dynamic, very loose usage of the word crazy/psychotic, implied mention of self harm, brief choking & slapping (in a non sexual way lol), pregnancy trapping (idk if thats the right term), the reader is a very bad human being, overuse of italics *please let me know if i’m missing any warnings!

author’s note: this is my 2nd submission for @stargazingfangirl18’s 5k soft dark challenge, i decided to make the reader dark >:) but ransom is also not a good person. I used these prompts: “I’ve waited a long time for this, sweetheart.” & The town golden *girl isn’t as sweet as everyone thinks.

this is definitely the most unhinged thing i’ve ever written, but blame @literate-lamb for making me write this because when i pitched this to her and said that i’d probably never write it, she enabled me.

okay that's enough from me. join my taglist if you want :D

“I know women whose entire personas are woven from a benign mediocrity. Their lives are a list of shortcomings: the unappreciative boyfriend, the extra ten pounds, the dismissive boss, the conniving sister, the straying husband. I've always hovered above their stories, nodding in sympathy and thinking how foolish they are, these women, to let these things happen, how undisciplined. And now to be one of them! One of the women with the endless stories that make people nod sympathetically and think: Poor dumb bitch.” Gillian Flynn, Gone Girl

Your whole life, you’d considered yourself a competitive person. Constantly overcompensating for one thing or another, whether it was the chronic desire to achieve perfection that had been installed in you since you were a little girl, or your persistent internalized sense of inadequacy. You realized early on that it was much better for you to win than for you to lose, no matter the physical, emotional, or mental cost of the prize of perfection.

For the most part, this mindset worked out for you. You graduated as Valedictorian from your high school, neared the top of your graduating class at Harvard. God knew you earned it, all those tears you shed into overpriced textbooks, all the popping of unprescribed Adderall, and robbing yourself of the parties and social events that the rest of your peers gladly indulged in.

You were just different, which was why you gained a job nearly immediately after your exit from school, quickly climbing to the top at the Blood Like Wine publishing company after only a few years of being there.

And one night, at the party celebrating the release of A Thousand Knives when you laid your eyes on Hugh Ransom Drysdale, the grandson of your boss, you knew that you needed to have him. Rich, hot, a bit of an asshole. You deserved to finally complete your image, and that socialite flavored eye candy seemed to fit the part perfectly. Luckily for you, he was desperate. It only took a few tugs on your dress’ V-line, and a number of knowing smirks to find yourself being finger-banged in his family manor’s bathroom.

From there, you wormed your way into his life. Leaving belongings at his place as an excuse to come back, and offering booty calls in the middle of the night. Ransom must’ve been much more desperate than you originally thought, as it really only seemed to take one night of stroking his hair while he vented about his family to make him want to be with you. Men with mommy issues were always so easy.

Except, he wasn’t that easy. The longer you got to know Ransom, the more fucked up you realized he really was. He had no boundaries at all, became jealous and enraged at the drop of a pin, and occasionally told you things that made the hairs on your arms rise.

This of course all came to a head after the night of Harlan’s 85th birthday party. When the news broke of his tragic death, you’d immediately known it was the works of your Hugh. If your intuition wasn’t enough, his confession in the shower, where he’d demanded you take off your clothes to display that you were without a bug, certainly was.

You were completely devastated. The man that you’d invested so much into for years had thrown both his and your reputations down the drain in just a matter of hours. Of course, you felt bad for Harlan too. He was a good guy (when he wasn’t instigating a family fight).

Still, you showed up during the funeral in your best mourning clothes and dawning your biggest crocodile tears. You rubbed Linda’s back while she mourned the loss of her father, and the new truth about her husband. You played dumb when interrogated by some Southern private investigator, even giving Ransom an airtight alibi. You testified on his behalf in court with enough conviction to grant you an Emmy.

You’d gotten so far, devoted so much energy into him, that you simply refused to lose now.

To your friends, you’d seemed to lead a near perfect life. Dream job, dreamy boyfriend, dream bank account, but it wasn’t enough. You wanted more, you just didn’t know what.

It dawned on you while sipping mimosas at the country club, Ransom playing tennis with his friends just a few yards away from you while Danielle showed off her brand new engagement ring, a .59 Carat Asscher Diamond, that if you heard her speak of again, would probably make you lose your shit.

You zoned out as she droned on and on about the shape, and how Matt proposed to her in their own private room in one of the most exclusive Parisian restaurants, instead focusing on how you could find yourself in the same position as that airhead next to you. In all honesty, you couldn’t stand the idea that someone was doing better than you, let alone someone in your own social circle. Dani got all the bragging rights of being engaged to the heir of some tech giant, being the first in your friend group to get eloped, and worst of all, Matt wasn’t even making her sign a prenup.

You blankly watched Ransom from afar, taking occasional sips from your sweet drink, while you thought of how you deserved all of that and more, and you were going to get it one way or another.

——

It didn’t take much to come up with something, your first and most obvious plan being to simply ask Ransom when he was going to propose to you. Of course, this wasn’t the first time you’d tried to approach him about this subject, you just wondered if maybe this time things would be different.

Panting heavily after a rather rough night in bed, you rolled off of your boyfriend’s chest and gave him a messy, yet sincere kiss. You knew your man well, and if there was any time to pop the question, it was in his post-nut haze.

“Baby,” you said breathily, “I wanna ask you something.”

“Shoot,” he responded casually, glancing over at you.

“When’re you gonna propose to me?” you hummed.

Ransom groaned and shook his head, rolling his eyes, “this is about Matt and Dani, huh?” he tutted, then extended a hand out to your warm cheeks so he could gently caress one with his thumb. “Thought we agreed marriage is just a piece of paper and it’s stupid.”

You huffed in response.

Of fucking course.

“I never said that,” you muttered, setting a hand on his broad chest. “Besides, it’ll be good if you get pissed and decide to like, kill your dad or something. Y’know, spouses don’t have to testify against each other in court.”

Ransom chuckled as if this whole thing was funny, like your feelings were some kind of sick joke to him. “You know my lawyers, babe. They could prove that bees don’t make honey. That bears don’t shit in the forest. I appreciate your attempt, though. This has been some really nice pillow talk.”

“Whatever,” you muttered, pinching his nipple in retaliation before turning your back to him and yanking the blanket onto your side.

You weren’t sure why you were so surprised that he was being stubborn, most of the time you felt like you were pulling teeth from the man. But that’s why you had a backup plan! You always had a backup plan. That’s what separated you from your boyfriend. Where Ransom was extemporized and impulsive, you were calculating and prudent.

Although you devised your plan that very afternoon while watching your partner backhand small green balls, you were going to need some time to get everything in order, to prove Murphy and his stupid law wrong in making sure that everything that could go wrong wouldn’t.

After all, love was a game. And you sure as hell weren’t losing to Hugh Drysdale.

——

You sacrificed too much to have your plans ruined by some trust fund baby with impulsivity issues. You deserved your dream marriage, the stability you wished you had as a child. You wanted the white picket fence, and everything that came along with it. Your desire to be the best, to be perfect was what drove you to poke holes in every condom in the box, what led you to draw liters of your own blood in hopes of staging a fake crime scene, to buy a cheap getaway car and burner phone off of Craigslist, and reach out to a high school boyfriend who you knew was in a position as desperate as you.

You planted seeds of doubt in your friends throughout the following weeks, feeding them lies about Ransom’s behavior, how you were afraid of telling him that you did in fact see two faint red lines on that damn plastic stick– only half of the statement truly being false–, telling them that he was behaving erratically lately.

It all was going without a hitch. Ransom didn’t seem to notice anything was off, despite your frequent visits to the bathroom and newfound affinity for true crime documentaries.

You almost felt guilty, knowing the world of pain you were about to throw the man into. Granted, he deserved the pain. You were in a relationship with a genuinely terrible person, and that person had made a conscious effort not to commit to you. You tried to make this easy for him, give him a chance to say a few words to you and slide a ring on your finger, but no, he always seemed to take the hard route.

You slept like a baby the night before you were setting your plan in action. You made sure to uphold the facade of everything being fine, making Ransom a nice breakfast before sending him halfway across town to the hardware store with an oddly incriminating list.

Once he was out of the house, you hurried off to the fridge in the garage where you’d been keeping a small stash of your own blood. It wasn’t pretty, but it had to be done. You poured the blood throughout the kitchen, splattering bits of it on the counters and cupboards. You poorly cleaned the mess, just as he would.

You put your next move in motion, falsifying a home invasion. You tossed over a table and some chairs, throwing books and photos onto the floor, but left some aspects slightly untouched, like an upright picture frame to give yet another hint that things were not exactly what they appeared.

You left a tiny blue post-it note on the nightstand of Ransom’s side of the bed, a quick and simple doodle of a ring along with the first initial of your name inked onto the tiny piece of paper.

With that, you were off. Technically missing, soon-to-be presumed dead.

----

The days following your disappearance had gone even better than you’d initially planned. Local news coverage had been all over you, search and rescue groups were assiduously looking for you, your parents had opened a tip line, and begged for you to get home safe on news segments. But the best part of it all was that Ransom had been briefly found himself in police custody, only to be released shortly thereafter. His past of an accused murder quickly made your disappearance even more of a national story, and you watched the whole thing unravel from the safety and comfort of your high school boyfriend, Andy Barber’s Newton home.

Of course, you fed him the same lies you’d given to your friends, and seeing the rather lonely position he was in, he gladly let you stay with him. You were absolutely having a hay-day with it all, dedicating hours of your day to watching Ransom slowly unravel. Maybe it was a bit sadistic of you to enjoy torturing your partner so much, but he needed to learn his lesson. You deserved better. You needed Ransom to rise up to your level, allowing you to finally complete your image. To let you two appear to be the perfect couple. Really, this was all on him.

Andy, for the most part, had been a good host. He was gone for the majority of the day, dedicating himself to his work while you lounged around on his dangerously cozy couch. Around two weeks into your stay, you were sharing a box of pizza in the living room with your old lover when something interesting on the television caught your eye.

Ransom, broadcasted on CBS, being interviewed on your disappearance.

You watched with wide eyes as Ransom begged for your return on national television. It was one thing seeing your mother plead for you to come back, the same woman who had installed such toxic behavior in you sob for your return, but Ransom. You’d never loved him more than in that moment.

“Hugh, if you could tell Y/N one thing, what would it be?” the interviewer asked.

Ransom turned, looking straight at the camera, directly into your soul, “Y/N, I love you so much. More than you’ll ever know. I need you to come back safely, to see you, to hold you again. I’d give anything in the world for that right now,” he looked down, a tear falling down his cheek. “I can’t live without you in my life, I-”

His sentence was cut off by Andy grabbing the remote, and turning off the TV. You turned your head and frowned deeply at him.

“Why’d you do that?” you asked with a bit of a pout.

“I just couldn’t stand listening to him talk about you like he hasn’t treated you like shit for the past few years. C’mon, let’s get ready for bed.”

Your blood boiled. Andy was once a means to an end, but now he was interfering. He was clearly much too selfish to see that you and Ransom were quite obviously soulmates. A match made in hell.

You followed him to bed regardless, curling up on what had been your side of the bed for the past few days, and staring at the wall until Andy’s breaths moved from a soft and rhythmic pattern to loud snores. God, those snores were obnoxious.

You slipped out of bed and to his dresser, grabbing two soft ties from the drawer, and daintily tying his wrists to each side of the bedpost.

“What‘re you doing?” he mumbled, instinctively yanking both of his wrists as he awoke.

“I’m going back home,” you whispered.

“You can’t be serious,” Andy huffed, tugging on the restraint attached to the headboard.

You shook your head, “I am.”

“I should’ve known. Why would you do something like this? Do you know how much trouble you’ll be in with the law?”

“Do you know how much trouble you’ll be in when the world finds out that you kidnapped me?” you retorted.

This threat seemed to wake him up right away, “what about this was kidnapping? I gave you a nice home, fed you, I didn’t even make a pass at you. I didn’t do shit to you,” he hissed. “You think I can’t prove that? I’m a lawyer, for god's sake!”

You nearly laughed, “Okay, Andy,” you paused for a moment, “As a lawyer, who do you think everyone’ll believe? Someone who the world was on a wild goose chase for in the last two weeks? Or the man with a family history of violence? Must I remind you that your father and your son have killed people?”

Andy shook his head, face pinched in sorrow at the mention of his deceased son, clearly a low blow. “You’re insane,” he muttered.

“Swear to god that you won’t tell a soul what happened here,” you leaned over him, getting right in his face. “Or I promise, Andrew Barber, I will ruin you. You’ll spend the rest of your life behind bars, or disbarred, or whatever the hell I decide to do with you. So keep your goddamn lips shut.”

You pulled away and he solemnly nodded, not bothering to put up a fight. You loosened the fabric around his left wrist and walked out of the room. You picked up the keys to Andy’s Audi on your way out, checking the time as you adjusted the driver's seat.

9:45 PM. Fatherhood really changed the man.

You pushed that thought aside and began your drive home, which turned out to be a surprisingly short trip. When you pulled up in front of your home, you were met with a slew of reporters outside of the house, along with a police car that seemed to be permanently camped there.

As you slowly got out of the car, a gasp, followed by a loud silence fell across the crowd. You limped for dramatic effect up the driveway as cameras followed you, and glanced back at them pathetically. From your peripheral view, you noticed the officers get out of their vehicle.

You finally got to your door, ringing the doorbell and waiting. You blinked harshly a few times, conjuring up the tears you needed to really make a spectacle of the event. After a few minutes, Ransom opened the door, eyes widening as he looked at you. He stepped out, and you wrapped him in as big of a hug as you could manage, genuinely missing his embrace. It was possible that you even let out a few real tears in the moment.

Your emotional embrace was interrupted by the man you recognized as Lieutenant Elliott, the same officer who’d been assigned to Harlan’s case.

“Ma’am,” he began, only to be shut down by you.

“Please, just let me be with my boyfriend,” you pleaded, crocodile tears streaming down your face as you spoke with the officer. You still needed time to get your story straight.

“Just give us the night, Lieutenant. We’ll come in first thing tomorrow morning,” Ransom added, furrowing his brows at the officer that he’d come into contact with far too many times.

He looked to his partner, who shrugged, then to you, “enjoy your night.”

Cameras flashed around you as civilians, journalists, and newscasters alike attempted to catch your attention. You grabbed Ransom’s hand and dramatically pulled him inside, insincerely attempting to hide your face by ducking and covering half of your face with your arm.

As soon as you were in the privacy of your own home, Ransom threw you against a wall.

“Why. The fuck. Would you pull a stunt like that,” he hissed through gritted teeth, eyes wild, and a hand around your throat.

You whimpered as he tightened his grip, rage clearly flowing through his system uncontrollably.

“Do you know what you did to me? You almost had me thrown in fucking jail. Do you understand that?”

You nodded weakly, “Ran,” you whispered, “the baby,” you glanced down at your stomach.

He paused, dropping his grip on your neck and staring at you in awe, “no…”

You nodded again.

“How…? You told me you were on the pill… You- you made me use protection…”

“Surprise?” you said weakly.

“You’re a psychotic bitch.”

“I’m your psychotic bitch. And no child of mine will be born out of wedlock,” you taunted.

“That’s what this is about?” Ransom laughed manically. “You did this all because I won’t fucking marry you?”

You didn’t even have to respond.

“I should send you to the loony bin right fucking now.”

“What happened to all those things you said to me on TV?”

“You’re fucking delusional. I can’t do this.”

“Yes, you can. And you will. I’ve had to put up with you and your stupid little antics for way too long. How do you think I felt when you killed your own grandfather?”

Ransom scoffed, throwing his hands up in exasperation, “you are so fucked up.”

“I’m the fucked up one? You killed your own blood in cold blood! You’re unhinged!”

“You faked your own death for attention, and got pregnant while doing it! Is that baby even mine?”

“The fuck are you trying to say, Hugh?”

“I asked if it’s even mine.”

“Really. You’re accusing me of cheating on you. That’s rich considering Mia, Layla, and whoever the fuck else. You’re being ridiculous.”

“I’m being ridiculous? You couldn’t have a normal adult conversation with me!”

“Are you kidding me? I asked you time after time to marry me and it was always some bullshit excuse!” you wagged a finger in his face as you spoke. “Oh, commitment scares me, oh, marriage is just a piece of paper, oh-“ you mocked his voice in a deeper tone before you were cut off by the sting of his hand against your cheek.

“Can you shut the hell up?” he growled at you as you held your own cheek, before you reached out and slapped him back, “I can’t believe that I’m stuck with such a deranged bitch for the rest of my life.”

“Maybe work on your vows a little, dear. I don’t think that those words are as charming to me as they’d be to the rest of our family and friends.”

“You can’t be serious,” he groaned.

“But I am,” you hummed, rubbing your cheek softly once again. “Look at how fast your life fell apart without me here. How quickly the public turned on you. Imagine how upset they’d be if you left me. I love you, Ran. I really do. You and I are perfect for each other, can’t you see that now?”

Ransom took a step away from you, pacing slowly in front of you. He ran a stressed hand through his hair, and took a long and drawn out breath, clearly at a loss for words.

“So when should we have the wedding? I’ve always wanted a Spring wedding, and I know it’s a little short notice, but I don’t want to be showing too much in my wedding dress,” you grabbed Ransom’s bicep gently, as if you were just having a regular old day with him, as if you hadn’t been choked and slapped moments ago. “But we can make it work. We always make it work, right?”

Your now fiancé stared vacantly at the wall ahead of him, giving you a slow, empty nod of agreement.

“It’s settled then,” you smirked. “I’ll start looking at venues. You find me a nice ring, okay Honey? One that puts all those other bitches’ rings to shame,” you sighed pleasantly to yourself, “I’ve waited a long time for this, sweetheart.”

You pressed a soft kiss to his cheek before hurrying up the stairs and into your bedroom. You heard a distant shriek of “fuck,” from Ransom, but you truly could not care less.

You hopped into bed, grabbing your laptop from its charger and promptly opening it. You couldn’t help but to smile at your own reflection on the empty black screen. This wasn’t how you imagined your engagement, but you did the impossible. You tied yourself down to Hugh Ransom Drysdale, he went down kicking in screaming, and you were likely in for a lifetime of cheating and resentment, but you did it nonetheless.

You finally won.

#ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x you #dark!reader #ransom drysdale x dark!reader #ransom thrombey x reader #ransom thrombey x you #knives out #knives out fanfic #siris5ksoftdarkchallenge

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teenyweenynightghost · 3 years

Note

Hiii! I was wondering if I could request a Damiano David headcannon where you are the guitarist along with Thomas and your dating Damiano? Thank you so much and I hope you have a great day\night

Of course❤️

Being a guitarist along side Thomas was definitely not an easy job

With all his crazy movements and jumps on stage, you’d have to know each piece better than the back of your hand to be able to play it

But you did what you loved, and that was making and playing music

You also loved the people you were doing it with; Victoria, Ethan, Thomas and Damiano

Especially him

You’d be lying If you said he hadn’t caught your attention ever since you joined the band

All the sensuality and charisma he had when playing, his magnetic presence and most of all the unbelievably sweet person he truly was

There had been times you hadn’t gotten along, mainly because of the differences between the two of you

The first tour you did with them started off smoothly. The fans loved each and every one of you, the performances were nearly perfect and you had fun

But at night, when Vic, Thomas and Ethan would invite you and Dami to go out partying, he would usually deny the offer, making Ethan back down too

Three of you going out was not the same thing as all of you

And one night, you finally got sick of it

“Why don’t you ever come with us, asshole? All you do is stay in your room and weep all day! Did the lack of tea finally get to you?” You screamed at him through the closed door of the bathroom.

“You’re a fucking bitch, you know that? I’ll tell you what has gotten to me. All the fucking hate I get, because of this rockstar persona they all created of me. And I’m fucking sick of it. Not going out is the only thing reassuring me that all the shit they’re saying isn’t actually true!” He yelled back, having opened the door and staring at you with pained eyes, all reddish and puffy from his tears

You hated seeing him like that, and you hated yourself even more for not being more understanding

After all, you had just joined the band, you didn’t know what they were going through

“Shit…I’m sorry- I’m gonna go.” You said, turning around, but were surprised by Damiano’s warm hand holding you back.

“Wait, please… can you stay?”

After that night you grew closer. Much, much closer

Your feed was filled with ship edits between the two of you and millions of posts about your growing relationship

As much as you liked Damiano, however, you feared that dating him would mess up the band dynamic

Considering that he made no moves towards you either, you suspected he felt the same

The other three, however, were sick of the constant sexual tension, so they decided to intervene

At one of your concerts, they made a list of all the songs you would play, and they were either the sad ones, or the hot ones

They inched towards the back and let you two be the focus of attention, hoping they would get you two realize that it was meant to be

You couldn’t lie, having Damiano on his knees singing Amandoti and crawling towards you during I Wanna Be Your Dog did things to you

Mainly to your underwear

And you tried to match his energy to avoid any embarrassment

Little did you know, the fans were living for it

Soon after the concert, the whole internet was filled with memes and clips of those moments, and you didn’t even want to know what was on Tumblr

“Oh you guys fucking rocked it!” Vic exclaimed once you all were backstage

“I think it was fine.” You responded, feeling a tinge of guilt in your gut for having taken the spotlight

“Are you kidding? You were basically having sex on stage!” Thomas laughed, causing you to choke on your own spit

“We were quite fantastic, weren’t we, cucciola?” Damiano’s raspy voice spoke behind you, sliding a hand over your stomach and pulling you to him.

“You know, I think I’ll want to be in another room for this.” Ethan said, smirking like a bastard, before leaving the room along with Victoria and Thomas

“You’re feeling guilty, aren’t you?” Damiano asked, knowing you well enough.

You just nodded slowly, pulling yourself away from him and searching for your clothes in the mess of the changing room

“You have no reason to be. They set us up. I can offer, however, that I treat you like that just between four eyes.” He mused, brushing a loose strand of hair out of your face

His touch sent shivers all throughout your body and you couldn’t help but want more

“We can’t do this, Dami. We can’t fuck up the band.” You said with a broken voice, pulling away

“I love you too much to ever hate you.”

You looked up at the man, who had pure love in his eyes, having handed his heart to you on a platter. You immediately pulled him back to you and pressed your lips firmly against his, holding onto him so tightly not even fate could pull you apart.

Months passed, and your relationship was blossoming. The dynamic of the band stayed the same; if anything, everyone became even closer. The fans loved every single one of your songs and you had made it big

Your heart was filled with contentment and gratitude, thinking of the past years, how much you all grew together…

And how you have found your family, alongside the best boyfriend anyone could ever ask for

#maneskin #victoria de angelis #ethan torchio #damiano david #thomas raggi #måneskin #request #maneskin fic #damiano x reader #fluffyyyyyy

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my-emotional-self · 3 years

Text

Toxic Love Chapter 4

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes

Summary: Finding out your soulmates were Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes was one thing. But when someone from your past comes back to haunt you, you have to figure out if a relationship with two super soldiers is something you really want to pursue or if you’d rather go back to your comfortable single life.

Series Warnings: 18+, Swearing, Angst, Fluff, past mentions of rape, self-harm, attempted rape, domestic violence, stalking, death threats, possible Dark!Steve?, Steve will be an asshole a LOT in this series but I don’t know how dark it will get, explicit sexual content, mental health issues, kind of A/B/O dynamics but not really (no they are not actual wolves, more like the hierarchy), mentions of suicide, flashbacks of suicide

A/N: There will be no taglist for this story! I apologize in advance!

The three of you gathered around the kitchen island and ate the pizza. Well, more like Steve and Bucky inhaled a whole pizza each while you ate two slices. The pizza was delicious, probably the best you’d ever had and your stomach was grateful for the yumminess.

“Why don’t you tell us a little about yourself Y/N?” Bucky asked as he licked the grease off his lips.

“What do you want to know?” you replied.

“Let’s start with your family and where you grew up.”

You shrugged as you wiped your fingers with a napkin. “There isn’t really much to say. I grew up in a small town in the Midwest. Both my parents died when I was a teenager. I never knew my grandparents and I was an only child, same with my parents, so I don’t have any other family. I moved here when I was 20,” you stated honestly. Well, mostly at least. Yes, it was true both of your parents died, but how they died was tragic. They both committed suicide. First your mother, then your father one year later. As far back as you could research, mental health issues unfortunately ran in your family and that was including you. But you weren’t ready to open up that old wound yet. You were on medication to help it and that was that. Luckily the dosing you were on worked well and you could only hope you wouldn’t need to adjust your medications anytime soon.

“We know how you feel doll. Obviously all of our family is gone too. But we can make a new family with the three of us,” Bucky stated as he wrapped his metal arm around your shoulders. You liked the sound of that. The three of you becoming your own family. It sounded nice.

You gave Bucky a wide smile, mirroring his. “What have your past relationships looked like?” Steve announced from the other side of you.

This was something you had been debating on bringing up. If you weren’t going to tell them about your mental health issues just yet, you didn’t want to lie and be dishonest about John as well. Taking a deep breath, you held it in for five seconds before releasing it. “I’ve only been in one relationship before. His name was John, John Smith. He’s in prison right now.”

From the corner of your eye you could see Steve clench his fist; his knuckles cracking in the process. “What happened?” he growled out.

“He…he umm. Well, he hit me,” you said, almost as quiet as a mouse but you knew both men had super hearing and they damn well heard you.

Steve slammed his fist on the granite countertop making you flinch.

“Steve!” Bucky barked at him in anger. “You’re not making this situation any better right now. Calm the fuck down and let her talk.” Bucky soothed his arm up and down your back. “Go ahead doll. We’re listening.”

Nodding, you began to speak again. “Things were great in the beginning. He seemed like everything I could have ever asked for in a man. I didn’t know if or when I would ever meet the two of you so I decided to live my life and date him. The first six months were a whirlwind of romance. He was the most charming man I had ever met. But then things took a turn when I moved in with him. I was ready to have sex yet, but he was sick of waiting. That first night I moved in, he…he raped me.”

This time you saw Bucky’s right hand clench on the table in front of you while Steve knocked his chair over as he stood up, pacing the kitchen. “Go on doll,” Bucky urged, trying to keep the anger out of his voice as best he could for you.

“That was just the first time. He umm, he did it again for weeks. I wanted to leave, I really did. But he was rich and he had security around the house. I knew I couldn’t just up and leave. Finally, when he demanded I quit my job, I stood up to him and told him no. That was the first time he hit me. That continued for months. I was ready to give up on myself.”

“What happened next huh? How did he end up in prison?” Steve demanded as he leaned over the counter, staring at you with those piercing eyes.

“I got lucky,” you replied. “We were out shopping one day. He felt bad for the wrist he broke the night before so he took me shopping. One of the sales ladies escorted me into a fitting room and I slipped her a note letting her know what was going on. I stayed in the fitting room for as long as possible. And then I heard them. The police. The sales lady called the police for me and they took him away. He’s been locked up ever since.”

Closing your eyes, you let the tears slip down your cheek. “You were so brave,” Bucky cooed as you felt his lips on the top of your head.

“Look at me Y/N,” Steve demanded yet again and that deep feeling to please him was happening again. You snapped your head up and looked directly into his eyes. “That will never happen in this relationship. Do you understand me?” You simply nodded. “Bucky and I would never hurt you like that. Ever. You have our word.” As soon as he finished talking, he stormed out of the kitchen and down the hallway to where you only assumed was his room.

“Just give him a minute to cool off sweetheart,” Bucky spoke in your ear. “Stevie gets pent up sometimes and he has a lot on his plate. He may seem like it, but he’s not mad at you. I promise.”

You collapsed into Bucky’s chest and softy sobbed. It felt like a weight was lifted off your shoulders and you were relieved to have told them about John. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that doll. That will never happen to you again. We won’t let anything like that happen.”

It couldn’t have been more than 10 minutes later when Steve emerged from his room. “How about we go down and show you the communal kitchen and living room. Give you a little tour. What do you say?”

A small smile broke across your face. “I’d like that very much.”

As the elevators opened to the communal floor, you jaw dropped. If you thought Steve and Bucky’s apartment was big, this was ten times the size. Not only were there ample more couches, the television was bigger and there was a large dining table big enough to sit at least twenty people.

“Holy crap,” you exclaimed in awe.

“Yeah, Tony likes to go big if you couldn’t already tell,” Steve joked.

“You think?” you quipped back, earning a smirk from Steve.

The entire space was void of anyone except the three of you as Steve pulled you further into the living room. He explained that the group tries to do a movie night at least once a week. “To make things as fair as possible, Tony pulls a name out of a hat to see who gets to pick the movie that night,” Bucky said.

“Yeah but it doesn’t really work. There is still always complaining and bitching from everyone else. Mainly Clint,” Steve chimed in.

It made you giggle, genuinely giggle and it felt good. That hadn’t happened in quite some time.

Steve and Bucky guided you towards the hallway, explaining that these were the ‘hobby rooms’ of everyone and their soulmates. Steve opened the door to the one at the end of the all on right left side.

“This will be your room. You can make it anything you want. But I’m going to guess this will be your game room where you work.”

“That would be correct,” you answered as you turned on the light. The room was very decent sized and you would have no problem fitting all of your gamer stuff in here. Hell, there would be a lot of room left over and you were quickly trying to think what else you could fit in here.

“C’mon. Let’s go back to our floor and we can show you your room up there.”

On the elevator ride back to their apartment, Steve and Bucky explained who all lived in the tower and who their soulmates were. Tony and Pepper were soulmates together, along with Bruce. Bruce was best friends with Tony and more of a brother figure to Pepper. Then there was Natasha, Clint and Darcy Lewis and they were all in an intimate relationship together. Lastly, there was Thor and Jane but they didn’t stay in the tower too much as they spent most of their time on Asgard.

Steve stopped in front of your door. It was across the hall from Bucky’s and right next door to Steve’s.

“Go ahead and open it,” Steve said with a smile. “Just place your hand over the screen.”

Taking a deep breath, you did as he said and placed your hand, palm down, on the digital screen where there would normally have been a doorknob. With a soft click, the door opened for you and you walked into your new place. It was nothing like what you were thinking. You were honestly just guessing it would be a bedroom, but no, this was an entire apartment.

Straight ahead was a decent sized kitchen. There was dark cherry wood cabinet with black granite countertops and stainless steel appliances. To the left is what you would assume would be the living room, however it was completely bare of any furniture. As you continued to move through the apartment you found that the bedroom was all the way in the back. It was a very nice sized master bedroom with the biggest walk in closet and on suite bathroom you had ever seen.

“What do you think?” Bucky asked as he came up behind you and placed his hands on your shoulders.

“It’s big,” you replied with a chuckle.

“I’m going to have Tony’s interior designer email you. Give him examples and ideas of what you would like and she will make it happen. Don’t worry about prices. This is Tony’s gift to you.”

Your eyes grew wide at his statement. “Are you sure?”

“Yes sweetheart,” Steve replied as he slipped his hand in yours. “We want the best for you. Whatever you want this new home of yours to look like, then so be it. We will make it happen for you.”

~~~

That night as you lay in bed after spending time with Steve and Bucky, you couldn’t help but frown. Things had seemed to be going much better tonight than they did when you first met them two days ago. Now, you had to pack up your apartment and move. You weren’t really nervous about that part, hell, you were looking forward to it. But then it meant things were starting to get real. When things start to get intimate with them, would you be able to let yourself go and do that? Would things be vanilla in the bedroom? Would you be able to tell them that because the only sexual experiences you’ve ever had was being raped, that you could now only get yourself off on violent fantasies of being raped, or tied up, or choked? Fuck, what was wrong with you?

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers smut #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes smut #dark!steve rogers #dark! steve rogers

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basicjetsetter · 3 years

Text

The Rise of Deus

♡ Pairing: Mob!Peter Parker x BlackFemale!Reader

♧ Setting: The Terrace Room in The Plaza Hotel, New York

♤ Warnings: Language, Adult Themes, Violence, +18 Smut (If you are under age, please do not read this).

♢ Word Count: 7.2k

☆ A/N: Okay, so I got a little carried away. This is such an indulgent mess, I love it to pieces. If you haven’t read The Fall yet, I suggest you read it before you get to this part. It takes a while to setup, but I promise it’ll be worth it. Please hit like if you enjoy it, leave me a lil’ comment and a reblog if you love it. Happy reading! (P.S. I like these two characters so much, I might just write some more moments for them).

The game is in your hands. Exactly as planned.

♢ ♤ ♡ ♧

You’re not a great poker player.

In fact, compared to Peter and even Rumlow, your skills are subpar at best. The idea of betting everything on chance rankled the very fibers of your being, and you never could quite remember which hands beat which. But you were excellent at reading people.

It’s how you became New York’s best attorney. That, and because you were sharper than most people assumed you were.

Exhibit A: Rumlow.

You have to give it to him, though. He was initially difficult to read.

Earlier in the game, you tried to gauge his tells as he demolished Peter. Everyone reacts when they have a good or bad hand, whether they’re aware of it or not. As an attorney, you study your clients, plaintiffs, and sometimes the theoretically impartial jury for their tells—how they react to damning information, or rather, how they choose not to react.

The truth is in their eyes. The way they hunch their shoulders. Touch their face. Purse their lips. Breathe. Everything is a tell.

Rumlow’s whole personality screams dominant knowing, and he strategizes that way. Like he’s seen your hand before you even pick up the cards.

He plays too smart. And when he’s drunk, it becomes all the more apparent.

The way he rubbed his bottom lip before bargaining the final bet, slow and methodical, sealed the game against him. It’s not much to go off of for some, but for you, it’s more than enough. It’s a nervous habit—the movement confirming that his hand isn’t crap, but it isn’t the best, either.

You glimpsed down at your hand, then back up to Rumlow with a pleasant expression.

No, you aren’t a good poker player. But Peter is.

“Save your time, sweetheart. Let’s just get this over with,” said Rumlow, leaning back in his chair. It creaked under his muscular weight. “Fold.”

You arched an eyebrow, then crossed one leg over the other, causing the hem of your dress to ride up and show a decent amount of skin. “Don’t I get to place a bet of my own? You know, just in case my hand is better.”

Rumlow’s eyes predictably feasted on your exposed skin before he dragged them back up to your face. “What makes you think your hand is gonna be better than mine?”

“Indulge me, Brock,” you nearly purred, internally gagging as Rumlow’s breathing became labored. “If you know your hand is better, then you have absolutely nothing to worry about. I just want to have a little fun.”

Part of you is grateful that Peter is handcuffed in the back of a police car, not here to witness your attempt at seduction. You needed to do it while Rumlow is still drunk enough to fall for it.

Rumlow contemplated your words for a split second, eyes dipping down once more to relish the sight of your skin while his thumb repeatedly ran over the top of his cards. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes.

He finally said, “Alright, I’ll bite. What’d you have in mind?”

Saccharine venom oozed into your words as you held a charming smile. “When I win, you’re going to give me $20 million, all of your inventory and routes to Peter, and I want your promise that the Scorpions will no longer operate in New York. You can go be someone else’s problem.”

The smug light fizzled out of Rumlow’s eyes, and his mouth hardened into a flat line. “Not going to happen.”

“And why not?” you asked innocently. You’re having way too much fun with messing with Rumlow’s head. “What’s so different about my demand from yours?”

“You don’t think you’re asking for too much?”

You leaned forward, letting your eyes slowly roam over his face before settling on his dark eyes, loving the way it made him uneasy, then said matter-of-factly, “Not at all. If you want everything from Peter, then I want everything from you. Only seems fair. That is, of course, if you want to renegotiate your previous proposal…?”

Rumlow sat up in his chair, staring too hard into your face. Searching for a crack in your armor. He wasn’t going to find anything that wasn’t already there. You’re sincere and know next to nothing about manipulating a game of luck, and it showed all over your face, clear as day. He’s got nothing on you.

“What is this?” He looked around the room as if there were hidden cameras on the walls, looked at the clueless faces of people spectating the game.

Tony muttered, “Well, this was supposed to be a party, but I’d say we’re miles away from that—ouch!” He groaned as Pepper elbowed him in the ribs.

“What do you think this is?” you questioned him back using the same inflection.

Rumlow’s head snapped back to face you, his eyes practically pitch-black. “A fucking setup.”

“It’s just a game, Brock. That’s all it is.” You’re surprised at how serene you sound because your heart is leaping around in your chest, about ready to burst free and fly away from the excitement of it all, but you’re conscious enough to keep the surprise off your poker face. “Do we have a deal or not?”

He filled his lungs with a ragged breath, expelling it out of flared nostrils. Pinched the bridge of his nose. Strategized. “$25 million. Everything else stays the same. His routes. His connections. You.”

You nod once. “And you accept my wager?”

Rumlow begrudgingly nodded. His knuckles turned white from clenching his cards.

“On three, we show our hands,” you said and waited, giving him one last chance to object. He doesn’t; he just keeps his hawk-like stare trained on you.

“One.”

“Two.”

“Three.”

You both turn your cards over at the same time.

Rumlow’s hand shows a Three, Four, Five, Six, and Seven, all clubs. Straight Flush.

Peter’s hand shows a King, Queen, Jack, Ten, and an Ace, all hearts. Royal Flush.

“Bullshit!”

Rumlow shot up from his chair, threw his cards to the floor, and snatched the gun from one of his men, aiming it at you.

Gasps filled the room, and you’re certain you heard Tony shout your name in alarm. Just as they’d done with Peter, the venue's guards raised their weapons at Rumlow and his men.

You broke out into a fit of giggles. There were uncontrollable, bubbling from your lips and almost doubling you over. Maybe it was your nerves finally getting the best of you, or perhaps it was the dumbfounded shock on Rumlow’s face as he pulled a gun on you. Either way, you didn’t have a hope of taming them.

Rage intensified the crimson flush on Rumlow’s face. He barked out, “Why the fuck are you laughing?”

You struggled to pull it together. “Di-Did you honestly think you could beat Peter at poker, of all things? Seriously? I mean, don’t get me wrong. I knew you were dense, but geez.”

“He cheated. Ain’t no way he got that hand. Ain’t no fucking way.”

“Oh, come on,” you said, trying hard to stifle the giggles. “You said it yourself. Peter's a lucky son of a bitch.”

Rumlow took a minute to process the loss, eyes spacing out while the gun remained pointed at you. Your giggles died down as you sat patiently, drumming your fingers against your thigh and staring right back at the gun, uninterested. He wouldn’t shoot you. Not if he valued his life.

If Peter were here, you knew he’d be proud. Furious, yet proud.

At last, the arrogance returned to Rumlow’s smile, and he scoffed, “Congratulations, I guess. But um, I don’t really have to give you anything, you know. All bets have been word of mouth, nothing written down.”

Your smile never faltered. “Don’t do that, Brock. That isn’t how this works, and you know it. You were fully expecting Peter to hand me over to you with a nice, shiny gift bow taped to my ass and $25 million. Right? Or are you pointing a gun at me just because you feel like it?”

Rumlow shrugged with one shoulder. A hint of his anger traced his features before it faded back into an impassive mask.

“Doesn’t matter. I’m not giving you shit.”

You sighed dramatically. “Okay, fine. Be that way. But this is how it’s going to play out, regardless. You have three choices.” You ticked them off on your fingers. “One: You give me what I won and leave New York. Two: I sue your ass until you have nothing. Three: You get to deal with Peter. That last one won’t bode out too well for you.”

“Oh yeah?” he asked, snickering. “And what you gonna sue me for, sweetheart? Gambling?”

Your eyes firmed into a severe gaze as you spoke. “I had a nice little chat with Miss Shuri Udaku earlier.”

The dark look passed over his eyes again. A thick mask of indifference tried to hide his culpability before you could spot it, but you didn’t even need to see it in his face. The guilt in his tightened shoulder blared like a blinking neon sign.

Bullseye.

You forged on. “Now, if what Shuri told me is true, which, guessing by the look on your face, it must be, you’re in deep shit. And I’ll take an educated guess and presume she isn’t the only one you’ve…spoken with.”

You paused for him to defy your assumption. He remained silent, his jaw grinding.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” you inquired with a faux mask of concern. “Did I hit a nerve?”

Rumlow’s eye twitched as he lowered the gun. Defeat heavy in his furrowed brows. “I’m gonna make you pay for this. You and him.”

“Just be sure to run me my money, first,” you said. A sly smirk curled up the corner of your mouth. “I want the whole amount by tomorrow, and I want you out of this state by the end of the week, got it?”

A snarl rumbled in his chest. “Got it.”

“Good,” you smiled brilliantly. “Now get your ass out of here. And take the Dynamic Duo with you.”

Everyone lowered their weapons as Rumlow and his two shadows stomped out of the Terrace Room. You watched their backs until they were no longer in your eyesight. It’s over. You won. A rise of applause swelled after the threat ultimately left the room, catching you off guard as you moved to retrieve Peter’s cards from the ground. You curtsied for them and offered a humbled grin.

A rush of adrenaline is humming through your veins, and it’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. You’re positive you could scale the Empire State Building without so much as a harness, just running on pure pent up energy. Maybe you should do this kind of stuff more often.

Steve was the first to come up to you, confusion laced in his blue eyes. “We’re letting him go? Just like that?”

“Yes.”

“He pointed a gun at you!”

You brusquely scanned your unscathed body. “No harm, no foul, Lieutenant Rogers.”

“Jesus, you and that kid are a match made in Heaven,” Steve mumbled, shaking his head in shock.

“Wouldn’t be marrying him if we weren’t. And thank you for reminding me…” You trailed off, heading in the direction of Tony and Pepper.

You had to tell Tony the truth about you and Peter before your nerve wore off, or else you’d never find the courage to ever say it straight to his face. Even as you trudged over to him, a leaden ball of anxiety smothered your chest.

Shuri sprang at you without warning, tightly hugging you and jumping up and down as she squealed, “That was so awesome! Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“It was nothing,” you said mirthfully.

“It was everything! That man’s been breathing down my neck for months about those weapons. I couldn’t turn a corner without seeing him. I can’t thank you enough.” As you broke apart, she handed you an embossed card. “If Peter is interested, I would love to have a meeting with him. Maybe we could all catch lunch.”

“He is definitely interested. I’ll be sure he calls you,” you assured, beaming her a friendly smile.

She nodded in agreement then waved her goodbyes, walking away to find her companions.

Everything always falls right into place for Peter.

You shook your head in awe as you made your way over to Tony and Pepper again, this time scanning your surroundings to ensure no one else ambushed you. Once you were close enough, they both threw their arms around your shoulders and pulled you into a protective embrace.

“We’re so glad you’re okay, sweetie,” said Pepper as she rubbed a comforting hand up and down your back.

“Don’t you ever pull something like that again, you hear me?” Tony chastised, his tangible relief choking up your throat. He pulled away to look into your eyes thoroughly. “I almost had a heart attack watching that. How could you just stare at the guy as he held a gun to you? You didn’t flinch or anything. I swear you’re turning into a different person right before my—”

You blurted out, “I’m marrying Peter.”

Tony blinked and opened his mouth to speak, but you cut him off, the floodgates bursting open as you spilled everything.

“He proposed three months ago, and I said yes because I am in love with him, Tony. I am in love with Peter Parker, and I know you hate his guts because of what he does, but I don’t care. And…” you stopped, sucking in a deep breath to steady your trembling words. “And I don’t care if me loving him means you hating me. You’re like a father to me, and I respect you, but I won’t continue to let you badger me about being with Peter.”

Tony interjected, “Woah, woah, woah, pump the brakes. Where did you get the idea that I’d ever hate you for being with Parker?”

Both you and Pepper raised an eyebrow at Tony, a universal look that easily translated to Your words said it all.

“Alright, sure, I never really liked the kid. He’s this devious little mastermind who circumvents the law to get what he wants and somehow even got you. But I can hate him and still love you, hon.”

You coughed up a laugh partly because of your relief and partly because of how ridiculous Tony was. “I want you to tolerate him at least. That means no more bringing up the fact that I am his Personal Attorney, no more threats of arrest, and no more nicknames.”

Tony sighed and said, “Okay to the first two, but I can’t make any promises for the nicknames. Baby-faced Criminal has a nice ring to it.”

Your smile brightened. “Deal.” You stepped back into his hug, pressing your face against his shoulder and exhaling. Finally, having the truth out in the open felt like releasing a breath you held in for three long months.

You heard Tony add, “ ‘Sides, I already knew you were engaged.”

“What?” you screeched, stepping back. “What do you mean you already knew?!”

“First of all, ouch,” Tony groused as he rubbed at the ear you accidentally screamed in. “Second of all, Pepper is not really that great at hiding wedding preparations as she thinks she is. And Parker came to me about four months ago.”

You’re so shocked you forgot to breathe, involuntarily pulling in a long drag of air as it dawned on you that your tormented lungs screamed for oxygen. “What—what do you mean Peter came to you?”

“Your young man thought it proper to ask me for my blessing before popping the big question, and I may have expressly told him to go swim in the Bermuda Triangle.” At your expression, he quickly added. “Well, he didn’t!”

“It’s just—He never told me that he asked.” You omitted the part where Peter held your refusal to tell Tony about the engagement against you. Tony wouldn’t understand Peter’s motives any more than you could. But you were going to make him explain himself.

A brief impression of chagrin flashed in Tony’s eyes. “I admit I wasn’t that forthcoming about it. He probably thought it’d be better to keep it to himself than tell you I said no.”

That’s not what it was, but you hummed in agreement anyway.

“Welp, my party mood’s long gone,” Tony stated, unbuttoning his jacket and loosening his tie. “Anybody else up for some Shawarma?”

| Next Morning |

Today wasn’t unlike any other day. Phillips told you your client's location, even though you both knew the area by heart. Third floor. Cell Block E. Number 7. Always Number 7. Lucky Number 7.

♢ ♤ ♡ ♧

One of the guards, a new hire with a tag reading Lang, shadowed you as you walked out of the detention center’s lobby and into the bustling dayroom, then up to Peter’s cell. An untrained eye wouldn’t notice the guard’s careful proximity, and an untrained ear wouldn’t hear his trepid footsteps. You knew better.

Your fiancé is many things, and cautious just happens to be a large part of his make-up. None of the inmates lounging around the dayroom dared to glance your way, not because of the authoritative figure trailing behind you, but because of Peter and his imposing rap-sheet.

While Lang’s presence was somewhat reassuring on your way around the crowded cells, you didn’t need the security detail. You weren’t afraid of anyone in this facility. The moment you propositioned to be his attorney, he should’ve known you weren’t one to be easily rattled.

When you stood in front of Peter’s cell door, Officer Lang moved up close enough to smack the door twice, then placed the key in the lock. As the heavy metal door swung open, you weren’t sure what you might see.

He’s been away from the action, holed up in here all night. A tiny part of you expected Peter to be pacing the floor, running his hands through his hair and wringing them together in distress, beads of sweat trickling down his neck as he counted the seconds to your arrival. You wondered what it would be like to witness God panicking.

What you saw made you smile. Peter, sitting on his squalid mattress with his body propped up against the wall, his eyes closed and mouth slightly ajar, is sound asleep. Some of his brown curls are slightly lying over his forehead, giving him the perfect air of innocence.

Lang took a half step through the door, poked his head in the room, and loudly sang, “Wakey, wakey, Parker! You’re sprung.”

Peter jolted up from his position, looking around as if he forgot his bearings. The moment his eyes landed on yours, a sly smirk slid onto his lips, and the air of innocence vanished.

“Took you long enough.”

He got up from his bed with a low groan, stretching out the kinks in his neck. His dress shirt from last night is has a few more buttons open, exposing his black undershirt, and his shoes are in the corner of the room. The guards didn’t bother giving him a change of clothes because they knew he’d be out in less than 24 hours.

“I could always leave you in here, Mr. Parker,” you said, a small, teasing smile playing at your lips.

Peter grinned back at you, then retrieved his shoes. Lang stood against the wall like a statue, head forward and hands crossed in front of him.

When he was out of the cell, and Lang locked the door behind him, Peter addressed Lang. “She can take it from here, Scott.”

And just like that, Lang’s stoic face melted into a rueful grin as he mockingly saluted Peter and walked off, leaving the two of you alone.

Your mouth gaped for approximately two seconds before you caught on. “You hired him to play pretend-cop?”

“Oh no, Scott works here.” Peter slipped his shoes on and unbuttoned the rest of his dress shirt’s buttons. “He just also happens to work for me while working here.”

You wanted to ask how many Scotts he had in this facility but thought against it, deciding to quietly lead him out of the dayroom and into the lobby. No one acknowledged your departure. Every single one kept their heads down and tended to business as usual.

Peter’s driver, Flash, leaned against the car, smoking a cigarette. Once he saw you both approach, he stamped it out and immediately opened the back seat door for you and Peter.

“Good morning, sir,” he said, always overly cheerful.

Peter clapped Flash on the shoulder and said, “Hey, man. How you doing?”

“Good, sir. Thank you for asking.”

“Dude, we talked about this. Stop calling me ‘sir’ so much. It’s getting weird.”

Flash automatically nodded, saying, “Right, sorry about that,” before closing the door behind Peter. He’d call Peter ‘sir’ again by tomorrow.

Peter groaned in instant satisfaction as he sank into the leather seat. It’s a low and throaty sound, and you felt its vibrations all the way to your core, leaving a flustered mess for longer than you’re proud to say. Two years you’ve been with this man, and the lust hasn’t dimmed.

Peter got right to the point. “So, how’d it go?”

You smirked contentedly, flattening your hands across the lap of your pencil skirt. “You are $20 million richer. And you have the Scorpions’ trading routes and connections, along with a guarantee eviction by the end of the week.”

“20 million… Damn, baby, I knew you were a hustler, but that’s in-fucking-sane!” Peter whooped, turning in his seat to face you fully. His face radiated with excitement. “I bet Rumlow’s pissed.”

“Oh, yeah. He was pissed, alright. He tried renegotiating, then tried to worm out of it. It was fun to watch him squirm.” You’d never mention the part where Rumlow pulled a gun on you to Peter. Not because you cared for Rumlow’s safety in any way, but because you’ve seen how Peter reacts when someone threatens his loved ones, and you never want him to go down that dark tunnel again.

Peter leaned his head against the headrest and wistfully said, “Wish I could’ve been there. Stark didn’t give you a hard time for gambling, did he?”

The topic shift smacked you with the remembrance of what happened last night, what Tony had said. It shouldn’t have kept you up all night, but you tossed and turned with the nagging fact that Peter both hid his confrontation with Tony and had the nerve to pester you about not telling Tony something that he already knew.

For a while, you stayed up wondering why Peter even brought it up at dinner. What was his purpose? Why act cold towards you if there wasn’t a reason? Or was it even an act? Did he genuinely resent you that much for being anxious about telling Tony? Would you ever see that side of Peter again? So indifferent, so cruel. So quick to discard you.

The rest of the night, you replayed over and over how he ignored you, how he minimized you. That wasn’t part of the plan. Most of what happened before the cards got into your hands played out unexpectedly, and you understood why that had to be at some degree, but the ambiguity of it all ticked you off. Did he not trust you?

When he dismissed you, you actually thought about leaving him there alone. Was that not real?

That ache in your chest was real.

“Babe?” Peter waved his hand in front of your face. “Babygirl? What’s wrong? What’d I say?”

You couldn’t bring your eyes up to meet his. They strayed to your lap, refusing to move even as Peter hesitantly took hold of your chin with his thumb and index finger. He emphatically called your name a few times, worry intensifying more and more as an unspecified amount of time passed. Peter never dropped his hand. His thumb caressed your chin while he waited for you to speak, knowing you would.

The desire to verbalize took longer than you expected. There just didn’t seem to be a right way to say what was weighing on your mind. Outright confronting him with only inference to go off of felt childish, but so did beating around the bush. You ultimately chose to address the subject of your silence.

In a tense voice, you said, “Tony told me that you asked for his permission to marry me.”

About thirty seconds ticked away. Peter sighed, “Are you upset that I didn’t tell you?”

You nibbled on your lower lip, then brought your eyes up to meet his. Mild concern drowns his warm brown eyes, somehow increasing their depth, and frown lines creased his forehead. If this were one of your typical squabbles and he stared at you with those damn eyes, you’d have been a goner.

“No.” You shook your head to clear the effect of his gaze. “I’m upset that you asked Tony and then proceeded to act like I had an obligation to tell him something you already told him. And then you got so mad about it last night…” you trailed off in a whisper, recalling his restrained animosity, something you never thought you’d experience with him.

“I wasn’t actually mad,” he rushed.

“So you were pretending?” You asked lamely, feeling the ghost of last night’s ache lash around in your chest. “All that wasn’t real? Ignoring me? Snatching your arm away from me? Dismissing me?”

He insistently shook his head, brown curls swaying across his forehead. “None of it.”

To you, the truth is almost as bad as the lie.

“It felt real to me.” Your voice sounds so small, it’s humiliating. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, severing the eye contact again. “The fact that you couldn’t just tell me that that’s what you were doing beforehand makes me feel like… like you don’t trust me. Like you’re willing to sacrifice my feelings for some stupid game. Like I’m a pawn.”

“Fuck,” Peter cursed, running a swift hand through tousled his hair. “No, baby, that’s not it. Come ‘ere.”

Peter reached over the divider and pulled you into his lap despite your attempt to scoot away. You didn’t want him holding you, consoling you because even if you tried your hardest to resist him, an irrational part of your brain would immediately relent to his closeness.

You stiffened at the touch of his hand rubbing small circles on your lower back, then loudly to clear your throat. “What is it, then?” You spoke to him as if he were one of your clients. Professional. Distanced. But you couldn’t look into those eyes.

“I was giving you an alibi,” he confessed, not fazed by your tone. “In case anything went wrong. We needed to look distant so Rumlow wouldn’t catch on to how coordinated everything was.”

Okay, that’s nowhere near the answer you were expecting. Because, of course Peter would come up with a convoluted explanation that only made sense to him. Irritation rose in you like a brewing storm as you peered straight into his eyes, ignoring the visceral pull as they locked on you.

“Did it ever occur to you that I’m a grown-ass woman who can handle shit by herself? I didn’t need a fucking alibi, Peter,” you said, indignation souring your tone. “What, did you think I was going to fuck up that bad?”

“No,” said Peter firmly. When you scoff, he persists. “I mean it. I was just—I was just trying to look out for you.” He held your chin again, applying a slight amount of pressure to keep your eyes on him. “I’m sorry. You’re right, you’re more than capable of taking care of yourself, and I love that about you. Sometimes, though, I want to be there for you as much as you’re there for me, if not more.”

You stubbornly held your tongue. You’re not going to cave with a simple apology… no matter how sincere it sounded.

Peter leaned in closer, poorly hiding his smirk as he heard your breath hitch while his lips skimmed up your neck. “I’m sorry, baby,” he murmured against your skin. “I apologize for not considering your feelings.” He placed a tiny kiss on the crook of your neck, trailing the tip of his nose against your jawline. “I’m sorry for keeping you in the dark.”

An undeniable heat flickered to life within you, building as Peter’s actions grew enticingly bold. The pads of his fingers glide up and down your stocking-clad thighs, and each motion brought his hands down further and further until his whole, warm palms flattened down to massage your calves and thighs. Unknowingly, you inclined your neck to allow him to access a larger expanse of your skin.

Any resolve you cemented against Peter crumbled as a pair of lips outlined the shell of your ear. His voice comes out hoarse when he speaks, hoarse and deliberate. “I trust you with everything I have. You know that, don’t you?” His lips hover dangerously near yours.

You exhaled out a breathy, “Yes.” You do know that. He wouldn’t trust anyone else to hold those cards but you, wouldn’t trust anyone else bargaining with his assets but you.

Peter held your lowered gaze steady as he hooked his hands under your thighs and hoisted you up so you fully straddled him, your pencil skirt elastic enough to permit marginal movement. A low whine emitted from your throat as he pressed a chaste kiss to your lips, then pulled away to stare at you, using the full force of his immorally brown eyes.

“Can you forgive me?”

It’d be as simple as sin to whimper out a pathetic affirmative and let him off scot-free. Excruciatingly simple. You knew he meant every word, and you were glad he let you express your anger before apologizing. You wanted to forgive him. But your mind currently wasn’t on the same circuit as your mouth, refusing to utter a single word, wondering where that would get you.

“Hmm,” Peter hummed pensively, contemplating while a predatory grin crept onto his lips. “Guess I gotta work for it, then.”

♢ ♤ ♡ ♧

Your back arched up off the bed, and you toss your head back as you gutturally cried out Peter’s name for the fourth time.

The moment you two entered the house, Peter was on you, guiding you to the bedroom with his lips attached to yours and his hands groping your backside. His hands never left your body, and once they did, it was only to tear off his clothes. You weren’t sure what you signed up for, but something glinting in Peter’s eyes, an erotic passion you’ve encountered several times in your relationship, bespoke of an intense afternoon headed your way.

Before you could even guess what that might entail, you were lying on your back in the middle of the bed, and Peter was parting your legs open.

Currently, his grip on your bucking hips remains vice-like as he keeps his face planted between your quaking thighs, still lapping up the rest of your orgasm and staring you dead in the eyes with wicked lust.

Each time he made you cum, he’d huskily ask, “You forgive me?” The first time, you were cheeky, shaking your head with a tiny pout on your lips and eagerly wiggling your hips and tugging on the silky strands of his hair for more. The second time, your body ached wonderfully, and you lazily nodded your acceptance of his apology, but he didn’t stop, tightening his hold on the swells of your hips and delving his tongue through your silken folds. By the third time, you were religiously chanting, “I forgive you,” grasping the sheets for dear life as Peter solely sucked on your clit and salaciously groaned into your core.

On the fourth orgasm, your whole body is aflame, your fingers are desperately clutching Peter’s wrists, and you’re a blissed-out, gibbering mess with tears of ecstasy streaming out the corners of your eyes.

“You forgive me?” Peter rasped, his breath fanning against your sensitive skin. He alternately kissed your inner thighs, sometimes gently sucking the skin until he left stinging love bites.

Knowing words were well beyond your reach, your jerkily bobbed your head up and down, gulping in air to calm your heaving chest.

A whine of relief breaks free when Peter finally lets go of your hips and leads a sloppy trail of kisses up your abdomen, between the valley of your breasts, along your neck, your jawline, until he claims your lips in a sensually slow kiss, one that stole away your regained breath. You mewled into it, wrapping your arms around his neck and threading your fingers through his hair. He lowered his body on top of yours, deliciously suffocating you with his body heat and his scent—an intoxicating aroma of smoky spice you only associate with Peter.

Your brain treads on a fine line near oblivion. All your mind can comprehend is Peter. His soft little grunts in your mouth, his toned chest brushing against yours, his hardened cock against your stomach as he ruts into you.

“I want you,” you panted, wanton need thick in your voice. You’re entirely spent, but you couldn’t help but crave more of Peter, couldn’t help but want him to thoroughly build you up only to tear you down all over again.

Peter teasingly nipped at your lips, mumbling, “Where do you want me?”

You let out an impatient, low-pitched groan. “Inside me, baby. Please, Peter.” Your hips angled up on their own accord, grinding your dripping core against his cock. “Please, fuck me.”

His eyes rolled back, mouth slightly agape, and his face pinched in pleasure—what a pretty sight. Your eyes drank him all in. You loved the way he squinches up his eyes, almost as if all the sensations are too much to process. You loved how the flush creeping up his neck turned his skin a lovely scarlet. You loved watching him try to be attentive to you while being so engrossed in his own bliss.

Unhurried, Peter took himself in his hand, then slid his length through your folds before guiding his tip to your entrance. He always liked to draw this moment so he could hear the desperate noises you’d make for him. Your whole body sang out for him, from the broken moans spilling from your lips to the constant, stuttering pitch in your hips.

At an agonizingly slow pace, Peter slid inside of you, hissing out a drawn-out Fuck. You jumped and gasped at the slight sting as he stretched you out, gripping onto his biceps and clenching around him as the sting built up to a toe-curling burn of ecstasy.

He stroked into you with painstaking emphasis, hitting a deep spot within you that brought stars to your vision while capturing your lips in a blistering kiss. Your hands held his face as the kiss deepened, both of you moaning into each other’s mouths in carnal abandon. Yeah, it definitely tops the sex you had on the night he proposed.

Peter broke the kiss to dip his head down and favor the skin on your neck. His voice is a low murmur when he speaks, barely louder than your gasping breaths. “You forgive me?”

You practically sob out, “Yes! Yes, baby, I forgive you.” The flames are multiplying, licking up from your lower region and engulfing you as his strokes rock steadily.

“You know you’re my everything,” he grunted, sucking down hard on your skin and laving it with his tongue after you yelp his name.

Your heart flutters as you moan, “Yes.”

“Say it, baby,” Peter mumbled, an undercurrent of firmness in his voice. “I wanna hear you say it.”

“I’m your everything.” The things this man does to you…

“Good girl.” Peter’s hand wedged between your entwined bodies, reaching down to rub your overstimulated clit, watching the tremors shaking through your body as your mouth hung open in a silent moan. “I want you to remember that,” he ordered. “You’re my everything, and I’m sorry I”—grunt—“Fuck, I’m sorry I hurt you.”

He carefully collects you in his arms before rolling over and putting you on top, wrapping his arms around your back so your bodies remain pressed together. Some of your twists cascade on either side of Peter’s face, but he doesn’t mind, keeping his head buried in the crook of your shoulder as he pumped up his hips, deeply thrusting into you.

“You feel so good, babygirl,” Peter said roughly, his hips picking up into a bruising speed. “So wet for me.” His hands slide down your back and squeeze your ass. “Always take me so well.”

All you could manage were needy, shameless whimpers in response as his dirty words, his scorching touch, his soft lips, his slick body against yours all sent you reeling towards a rapturous release. Every stroke brings you closer to the edge, and you know Peter isn’t far behind.

With some effort, you drag yourself up to sit on Peter’s cock and brace your hands on his chest, lolling your head back as the new angle allowed him to hit a deeper spot within you.

Peter admired you through half-lidded eyes. “So fucking beautiful.”

You mustered up a beaming smile for Peter, then set your focus on riding him with the little energy you had left, slowly bouncing up and down on his thick length and loving the quick hitch in Peter’s breath as you took control. You wanted to see him writhe underneath you as he came inside you, wanted to see his pretty lips part as he called out your name. You’re so close, it’s maddening, but you’re waiting for Peter to fall off the edge with you.

As soon as Peter’s hips began to chase yours in a broken pattern and a repeated mixture of your name and fucks streamed out of his mouth, your climax slammed into you, slightly choking you up as you came with a high-pitched, quivering gasp and cried out, “Peter!”

Peter’s crashed down on him with the same force. His hips stalled for an instant before jerking up into you one last time, your name tumbling from his lips in a hoarse groan as he filled you with his hot, sticky cum. It feels as if you’re riding the wave of your orgasm for hours, and you blissfully drown in it. Savor it. Bask in the absolute pride of knowing that this man is yours and yours alone even though you have yet to seal it with the promise of ‘for as long as you both shall live.’

The comedown is a sluggish process, like trying to swim the length of a 10-foot pool of honey. Your heart rate is the first to slow down into a stable rhythm, then the raucous hum singing in your body simmers down to a delicious buzz whose sole purpose is to remind you of the five breathtaking orgasms Peter drew out of you. Every part of your body aches when you merely think about moving, so you cave and slump onto Peter’s torso, eliciting an amused oomph from Peter as he wraps an arm around your waist. When he pulls out of you, his cum smears a sticky trail in between your thighs.

Peter brushes away some of your twists from your face to press a gentle kiss to your perspired forehead. “I love you.”

“I love you,” you echo back, leaning up a little to peck his jawline. You snuggle up closer so your head rested on his shoulder. “And I really do forgive you. Your intentions were pure, and I know you were just trying to protect me.” You reach up and grab his chin, making him look into your eyes. “But I want your complete trust, Peter. Trust that I can handle things on my own.”

“From this point on, you have my whole trust,” Peter promised. He took hold of your hand, entwined your fingers together, and then put your hands over his heart. Its slow thud matched yours. “You have my word. No more alibis.”

You laughed tiredly. “Thank you.”

For a while, you two just stayed in each other’s embrace, your eyes falling as Peter’s finger lazily traced an infinity sign around your knuckles. You’re still buzzing, and you know you should roll out of bed to wash up, but you try to save these soft moments in your memory, to help remind you of the kind man who can be, at times, too cruel for words. That’s when he’s Deus. Right now, he’s your Peter.

Seconds away from succumbing to sleep, a thought occurs to you, and you quietly ask, “Hey, babe?”

Peter sounds wide awake. “Yeah?”

“Did Tony literally tell you to go swim in the Bermuda Triangle when you asked him for his approval?”

He snickered. “I believe his exact words were, ‘Go to hell, Parker. Better yet, why don’t you do us all a favor and take a swim in the Bermuda Triangle, and become a cold case?’”

Geez, Tony. You bit your lip. “And you still asked me to marry you anyway, even though he didn’t approve?”

“I was going to, regardless,” Peter murmured, and you could hear a smile in his words. “I just wanted to try and, you know, see if I could make you a little happier. Me and Stark bump heads a lot, and I saw how it upset you, so I thought asking him for his permission would get us on the right track to some sort of civility. Wanted it to be a surprise if he did say yes.”

Unexpected tears gathered in your eyes, and your chin wobbled. He tried for you. Had been trying for you. He even noticed how his and Tony’s bouts caused you to be anxious about your future together and tried to mend the stupid rift between them, for your sake. You aren’t going to lie and say that you’re glad Tony refused. You wished with your whole heart that he could clearly see how much you loved Peter. But, from now on, you’re no longer going to be scared of what Tony thinks of Peter. You love him, and he most certainly loves you, and that’s all that matters.

You scooch up a little more and capture his lips in a deep, passionate kiss. He’s only caught off guard for a second before kissing back, wrapping both of his arms around your waist. When Peter felt the wet tear tracks on your cheeks, he brought up his hands and wordlessly wiped them away.

As you pulled apart, you rested your forehead against his and said, “I can’t wait to marry you, Mr. Parker.”

Peter lightly rubbed the tip of your nose with his, replying, “I’m already yours, Mrs. Parker.”

#peter parker #peter parker au #mob!peter parker #mob!peter #peter parker x black!reader #black!reader #tom holland #peter parker smut #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fanfic #the fall and rise of deus #the rise of deus #peter parker x black reader #peter parker x reader #black reader

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putseraphinaonthaphone · 3 years

Text

Groupchat pt. I

CW// recreational drug use, group sex, poly dynamics, virgin reader, queer reader who uses she/her pronouns and feminine descriptors, intoxicated sex

It was an interesting group of friends that you had. Well, 'friends' was a stretch, but you had a groupchat. The name was simply 'fuckers' because for some reason Bakugou was allowed to name the chat. You had the same group of stoners you ended up partying with every weekend, getting high off the strongest shit you could buy and letting loose to work off the stress of the week. It was cliche but true, you blew off steam getting high and dancing like a slut-- self care. Somehow it had evolved to more of a four person party that wasn't really a party, but you played music, smoked, and the boys watched you dance while devouring the healthy but tasty food you prepared because when you're high everything tastes 100 times better and you'd been on a restricted diet because of your chronic health issues since you were a teenager. When you'd explained this in the group chat, the most concise response you got was "so you'll cook for us?" Stoners were just your people honestly. Or maybe it was these stoners.

Bakugou mellowed out considerably after a few blunts, and he offered to blow up whoever made you cry the first time you met coming out of a party to smoke after you had a call with your best friend from back home. He'd told you that your dynamic as friends only worked if he was single. You didn't know if you'd ever have another friend like him. And there was Bakugou, offering you a blunt and violence that seemed like just the kind of friendship you craved in that moment.

Shinsou was one of the few people who came to the party simply to find people to smoke with. He rarely talked, but he was really good company you thought. He always brought indica strains-- your personal favorite as well as his you found out. Sometimes you guys talked about how it was cruel to have so many dreams but so little energy to pursue them. Sometimes you guys went back to his place and smoked yourself into a sleepy haze that always ended up in the warmest cuddles you've ever experienced.

Dabi had a viper's tongue and an even worse attitude than Bakugou. But he was cool, you bumped into him at a party when you were looking for another smoker to borrow a light from. You were feeling caustic after a phone call from home. "You got a lighter bro?" He seemed a bit amused by your masculine energy wrapped in a lush femme presenting form, like he was relieved to finally seeing someone interesting. "You look like you got all sorts of daddy issues, why haven't we met before?" His tone was both flirtatious and condescending at the time. "Whatever gave it away?" You snorted as you lit up your blunt, white grape game wrappers. But your tone was flirtatous as well as you handed your blunt to him, "We're meeting now. To shitty dads who deserve to sleep in the bed they made."

Shoto was the anomaly. You saw him around your department, guessing he was an upperclassman in your major. And one day he was at Dabi's place when you all got together to celebrate finally getting an off campus hangout spot. Apparently Dabi was an old friend, kind of like an older brother to Shoto. They definitely had a thing going on, but thinking about it too long made your face burn. His preppy appearance was shattered when he wore a short sleeve shirt instead of his usual button downs, and you saw the traditional japanese tattoos that made a full sleeve in white ink. You also noticed his silver gauges that were almost hidden by his white hair and when he pushed his hair back you saw more piercings on his ears. But when he smoked you under the table you decided you were almost in love.

If you happened to hope that one day at least one of the hot but dumb fuckers you smoked with took the hint of your many personal dance shows and fucked you, that was no one's business but your own.

You worked through the week, bullshitting assignments- but well because you were a fucking genius in your field, and on friday you decided to just wear a bra, shorts and an over shirt to the party with a beanie on your shaved head to complete the look. The pregame was at Shoto and Dabi's place this time, a short walk if you thought about the liquor and weed waiting for you. You weren't prepared for the brisk wind to meet you when you stepped out of your dorm.

"Hoes don't get cold." You chanted under your breath as you started walking. Your construction boots kept your feet warm, but the black booty shorts that were frayed at the edges left your lush thighs and your entire legs exposed to the cold wind. But after a few more minutes of walking you gave up- you weren't a good enough hoe, and you were cold. So you bit the bullet and put into the group chat:

smokerdeepthroat 11:19pm

Someone come pick me up, I'm freezing my literal ass off.

blueflamer 11:22pm

Walk bitch.

boomboi 11:24

Cash gas or ass, you know the drill.

smokerdeepthroat 11:25

Y'all can run a train on my ass if someone just picks me up before I freeze to death.

sleepystoner, icyhot, boomboi, blueflamer | read

Shit. You hadn't actually meant to send that. And of course the one time Shinsou checks the chat had to be now. "Fuckers," you grumbled under your breath. At this point it was almost like calling them your boys in a fond tone, and that thought had you almost puking onto the concrete. The fact that you were blushing was completely irrelevant.

Before you could freak out too much- internally of course, you were not going to be caught simping with one of them on the way to pick you up- you heard the familiar roar of Bakugou's car coming down the street. The bass of his emo ass rock music shook the street and you were climbing into the car before he could yell at you to get your ass inside.

You might have moaned at the heated seats, rubbing your hands over your freezing thighs. "Thanks Bakubro. It's cold as fuck and I was too excited to pregame to bring a jacket."

"A jacket isn't the problem. Your ass is hanging out." His words as usual were followed by a plume of smoke. His crimson eyes trailed over your body and a heated smirk curved his lips. "But that just means easier access for us."

"Y'all dusty ass hoes know I was joking-" You tried to bluff, tried to deflect with bravado as you took the blunt from him. But your hands shook, and Bakugou met your gaze with a quiet intensity that was somehow worse than his explosions.

"You dance like you need a dick in you. And only for us. We waited for you to make your choice, but this is less complicated." Damn it, he was smoking the horny weed. But if you were honest all weed was horny weed to your squad. There was an eroticism in the craving just one more hit. Just one more epic high. Just one more shudder of pleasure, as touching yourself to the thought of the boy's eyes on you when you got back to your dorm was as much a part of your friday night ritual as the weed.

Whenever you started smoking you felt yourself happily descending into hedonism. Bakugou's voice certainly wasn't helping. Your throat was impossibly dry- from the smoke, from desire- as you admitted quietly,

"I'm a virgin." You weren't going to apologize, compromise or argue. It was a statement and he could take it or leave it.

Bakugou wasn't an idiot. But he also was a possessive bastard in a way that made you wet even though you rolled your eyes at it.

"I'll make it good for you when I pop your cherry. I met you first, I'll take you first. I got you." It wasn't a promise, it was confident statement you knew he would stop at nothing to make a reality. His relentlessness was something that drew you to him in the first place if you told yourself the truth. He shifted gears smoothly and rested his warm hand on your bare thigh as he drove you back to the off campus house. You smoked half the blunt listening to his music and getting wet from his hands wandering higher and higher up your thigh.

You walked in to the house and realized how much you'd underestimated how serious Bakugou's words were. It seemed like it was a long time coming when you walked into Dabi's low lit living room to find him with his hand on Shoto's dick, Shoto's hand on his, and Shinsou lazily palming himself.

"It's about time you got here, you can't just drop shit like that in the chat when you're not here to bend over for us." Shoto's white and red hair was a mess, and given that it looked like the two of them were edging each other (sadists), his fucked out face made sense.

"She's a virgin, Icy Hot, you're gonna have to wait. I gotta open her up first." You in the mean time were going to start the music while smoking a bit hurriedly, hoping you were well and truly high before they actually started to run a train on you.

"Play the dick down playlist." Shinsou rasped from the couch and you wanted to cry at the head assery you had to put up with from these morons. (/s) But they're your morons, some lonely part of you whispered.

"It actually better have good music on it." You griped, but yeah, you were feeling the impact of whatever Bakugou had given you to smoke because your words weren't as harsh as you meant them to be.

"I call dibs on her ass cherry." Dabi's low voice cut throat the soft grunts from Shoto.

"Next time." Bakugou muttered watching the way you started to dance, having shed your overshirt to simply dance in your shorts and bra. None of the boys danced with you, a rule you'd had to put in place when they literally started fighting like children over who's turn it was to dance with you. Somehow it hadn't gotten better, these jealous bitches would sulk if you didn't give them all equal attention during your provocative performance. You solved this by closing your eyes and not looking at any of them while you let your body follow the nasty beat of the playlist. Sometimes you murmured lyrics if you remembered them and all four men were enraptured by the sight of you surrounded by smoke and dancing like a ancient goddess that could command them all in an instant.

It was moments like these that made you think maybe you were all a little more than friends by now. More than just groupchat contacts. But friends. Maybe more?

The blunt you finished yourself, until you were light headed and craving more. More music, more bass to move your hips too, maybe something to move your hips against. You didn't hesitate when Bakugou patted his thighs.

In fact, the weed in your system convinced you it only made sense to take your shorts off before straddling him. Better that than having to stop just when you're finally getting what you want right? You forgot you were just wearing some lace boyshorts with pale pink roses framing your luscious curves and dusky skin until you heard;

"Slutty girl." It was a groan as Shoto's grip on Dabi's cock tightened from the view of your fat ass sitting on Bakugou's lap.

"Nah, not yet. She's just needy." Katsuki smirked when you blushed from his words, even as you started grinding down on him in revenge. The choked moan that escaped him and the cocky glare you turned on all of them made all of them crave you that much more.

"You're needy to fuck me too, you all are. Don't forget that, explosion bitch."

"Point made. But watch it, little girl. It's gonna be a long night." His words were low and raspy from smoke, and even thought it should have been a threat your pussy gushed and soaked your panties anyway.

Four pairs of eyes watched your every move, drinking in the sight of you half naked, boldly staking your claim on all of them-- which only made them want to return the favor. Claiming you over and over until you wouldn't deny you belonged to them.

A long night, huh?

To be continued.....

#bakugou x reader #shinsou x reader #dabi x reader #shoto x reader #tw dubcon #tw dark content #tw: dubcon #tw: pseudoincest #tw: recreational drug use #tw: degradation #tw: kink

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yanderecandystore · 3 years

Note

can we get the bullies with a male slasher s/o?

I swear like-

I swear I already did something like this?? But maybe no??¿? XD

So anyway- Alright boo, let me see what I can do- Sorry but I decided to take liberty and… Make this one be very stupid XD

TW/Tags: killer reader :3 // mentions of death // mentions of h o r n i n e s s // I have no like- Idea how to make this work so- Let's just go with it lol // low-key based on dbd, although I never played the game I know only a bit about it- // REALLY silly :P

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

Horror Movies Cliches [Yandere!Bully OCS x M!Slasher!Reader - Headcanon]:

🎇 Let me set the stage for a quick sec!🎇

Let's just create a bit of context- Imagine the most over the top horror movie cliche you can think off- Some teens, hanging around a haunted place, everyone is organizing a creepy party while also trying to prank one another. The twins are part of this party because duh- They're popular? Rich? Pretty af? Everyone wants a piece of them tonight, especially you.

Although technically, not in the same way the horny bastards around here want to. While some are trying to impress them, and others try to prank them and humiliate them for at least once in their lives- You're looking for something more, well, important. You were done with being the one left behind, always ridiculed by the twins and their mob of "friends".

You wanted nothing more than sweet revenge tonight, and it didn't matter which rich asshole's blood would be spilled tonight- And even if your plan wasn't exactly foolproof, you were still going to go down and smash their skulls.

With a mask covering your face, gloves to cover your fingerprints and a baseball bat- You were ready for your first hunt tonight. What could ever stop you if not God itself?

Maybe you didn't calculate all possibilities of what could go wrong today, perhaps you should have considered that you weren't the only one bloodlusty in this party.

→ Adrien Coldwell:

Adrien is not really a- Adrien is-

What can I say about Adrien? Adrien is not the best at survival, or trying to survive, or wanting to survive-

Adrien is too lazy for this- He doesn't really put an effort in trying to hide himself, since he is sold 100% that this is just another prank. The only thing stopping you from finding him and smashing his bones is his natural luck which is conveniently protecting himself from being found.

God, this party is boring.

You would probably find Adrien by accident, just- Eating some snacks as all the other participants of the party were already dead. However- You weren't so lucky when you tried killing him right there, he ran away before you could grab him.

Now noticing how real the situation was, he was ready to find any means of communication to call for help, but it seems like all possible means of easy and quick communication has been cut off.

Adrien can either hide and pray for someone to come help him, or try to fight you off and stop you from hunting him. And of course he ain't fucking attacking you, what do you take him for?? Insane?? Dumb?? Nah bitch, he is hiding.

Up until this point, Adrien had no idea you were the one behind the mask. He thought you were a random creep that went insane and decided to take his anger out on some rich people- Which could mean he is half right and half wrong!

But honestly though, you're the last person that he imagined being capable of killing so many people in one night! He didn't even know you were invited to this party, which makes this so unfortunate to him, he could be wearing a cuter outfit if he knew you would be here!

One would assume that after showing their true identities to their victims before their death would cause their victims to become even more frightened and beg for mercy!- In your case though? Nah, that ain't happening.

Adrien is treating this situation with much seriousness as one would imagine he would- With none. Knowing that you're the one killing everyone with a bat is kinda pathetic if not hilarious to him.

After all, it's just "you". What evil can you do? Honestly, you came all the way to this place to make him "pay for his actions"?? Don't you have anything better to do on a Saturday night, honey?

To be fair- He kinda digs the "unhinged maniac" look you have going on, blood suits you so well. Hell! He bet it would suit him just as well too.

Your night was supposed to be one of pure gore and carnage, revenge against those that have harmed you- Yet here you are, being flirted with by Adrien, who is getting a little too into the "killer x victim" dynamic going on.

Ugh, you don't feel in the mood anymore… It feels so wrong when he keeps flirting about it.

In the end, you two have inverted the roles in a way. You were trying to get away from Adrien who was chasing you and making you embarrassed with as much flirting as possible.

Such an unfortunate night.

→ Alexandra Coldwell:

Alexandra would think this is all an elaborate spooky prank, yet she would be lying if she said she didn't find this all…. A bit too much.

No, s-she isn't scared! Just frustrated that this party sucks! It's so immature to just- Try to humiliate her by making her scared! Is such a low move.

Alexandra wouldn't do much effort into hiding since she doesn't think there is any danger nearby. You would have found her very early on, and you can imagine how frustrating it was to see her escaping from your grasp- You have forgotten how athletic Alexandra is, of course she would have ran away faster than you could snatch her.

Now noticing how real the situation was, she was ready to find any means of communication to call for help, but it seems like all possible means of easy and quick communication has been cut off.

Alexandra can either hide and pray for someone to come help her, or try to fight you off and stop you from hunting her. And of course she'll be fighting you- Pfft, what? You think she'll chicken out?? You literally made her break her nail- You psycho!

Up until this point, Alexandra didn't know you were- Well, you! She thought you were some random ass psycho trying to ruin some teens party for some "revenge" bs. So maybe she was half right, and half wrong!

Alexandra would have never ever imagined that you were the killer! Were you even invited to the party?? Why has nobody told her? She could have chosen something more cute for you, damnit!

Alexandra just laughs it off and treats it like every school day- Belittling you while all's giving mix signals of affection.

She isn't afraid anymore, why would she? You're just a little wimp who thinks that getting a wooden bat and dark clothes makes you scary. Dearest, you have forgotten who is the bigger dog around here-

You wasted your whole night just to make her terrified? Honestly, you need a better hobby- Obsessing over your bully is such a loser move on your part, although she would be lying if she said she doesn't appreciate the fact you care so much about her.

Alexandra was getting a little too interested into this "roleplay" going on- Wanting to be your final girl, after all it didn't sound half as bad. Maybe she has been a little too into those slasher fanfics she has been finding around- But damn, you look almost acceptable while drenched in blood.

Her lack of care or empathy towards those who have been brutally killed, while also drooling over you, reminds you that- Honestly? Fuck this. You should have expected a Coldwell to be a morally fucked up person- Why are you surprised?

You've been trying your best to go back home, but being constantly followed by an overly affectionate Alexandra is just as bad as being humiliated by an overly sadistic Alexandra. You got no rest that day.

Such an unfortunate night.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

#yandere #sheep's stuff #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere twins #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc headcanon #yandere x male reader #yandere bully #yandere bully x male reader #yandere bully x reader #yandere bully x killer reader #killer reader #male reader #special delivery headcanons #special delivery request

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morgansmoreid · 3 years

Text

Do You Still Love Me • Derek Morgan • Chapter Eight

Chapter Name: "Make it All Go Away"

Fic Masterlist

Italic writing stands for flashbacks.

Bold Italic writing stands for what happens at the station.

Regular Bold writing stands for text messages.

Content/Trigger Warnings: Alcohol Usage, Drug Usage, Peer Pressure, Parental Vituperation, Toxic Parental Dynamics, Parental Abandonment

---

The name rings through Y/n's ear like a medley calling her back home.

"Buttercup?" The voice asks again.

"Yea, it's me."

Y/n voice is weak as each word leaves her mouth. Her lips tremble at the remembrance of the name, the meaning, and the way each syllable tears through her tough persona, resurfacing her soft and true one.

Before the voice can say something in response, a regretful sentence leaves Y/n's mouth, making her hate even pressing the call button that laid under her fingers seconds prior.

"Michael? Can I come over?"

It's silent between the two. Tense and argumentive silence lays, just as Y/n goes for the red button.

"Sure."

A gut-wrenching feeling fills both people. They know nothing is going to come good of this visit, yet Y/n gives a small hum in response and hangs up, letting her feet take her into the familiar landscape. But it's just her feet. The rest of her feels non-existent, cloudy, and bubbly.

The rest of her lays with her head, confused and sad.

Just as Y/n makes the last sharp corner, the muffled ding of her phone puts her body to one again.

Derek Aug. 23rd, 2008 at 12:05 PM

Come back to the station so we can all talk.

Y/n wants to text back and explain why she can't; or why she won't. But she doesn't. Instead, she powers her phone off, the small black screen looking at her with disappointment. The black screen reflecting her face of disappointment and guilt.

She stuffs the phone in her pocket and heads up the small stairs of the only colorful townhouse on the broken block. Chipped paint breaks under her shoes, crunching like a leaf. The sound is replaced by the three knocks on the grey frosted door in front of her.

"I care about you, buttercup," Micheal wrapped his arms around the sister figure that sat next to him.

Sitting on his roof, both watched the sunset to stars, pills and alcohol surrounding them. Y/n laughed, pushing him off her shoulder before grabbing the small "water" bottle she snuck past her father earlier. Micheal watches as her face grimaces, knowing the burning feeling of the alcohol going down her throat before turning his whole body towards her.

"I mean it," He says gaining her attention.

"What happened to 'no sappy shit' " She mocked, putting her fingers down at the frown on Micheals's face.

"That was before. This is now. Now, I want you to come to me, on some real shit. But not just for drugs, if you want to cry, want to talk, want to ding-dong-ditch that old hag up the block." He smiled.

Y/n smiled also. To the thought of having an outlet. To the thought of having someone actually wanting to listen to her thoughts.

"Let's make up a code." An idea pops in her head, only expanding itself at the raised eyebrow from Micheal.

"Whenever one of us is over at the other's house, we knock a blank amount of time." She proposes.

"One knock, food. Two knocks, just someone to talk to. Three knocks, oxy. Four knocks, a hangout buddy, and five knocks, just a place to sleep." The ideas roll from her head to her mouth in instant connection.

"Oxy and liquor," Micheal chuckles as he takes a sip of the water bottle.

"Oxy and liquor," Y/n repeats, repositioning herself to sitting next to Micheal, laying her head on the side of his shoulder, the place she's found comfort for the last few months now.

He plants a small kiss on her head, the action providing the same warmth as it did her.

"I really care about you buttercup." He mumbles as he pulls away.

"Hey." A tear-stained Y/n appears in front of Micheal as he opens the door.

"What was the last cell tower her phone pinged at?" Hotch asked as he hovered over Garcia, afraid if he looked back to Y/F/N, he might punch him solidly in the nose.

"This one," Penelope pointed to her screen, making everyone's heads turn to the laptop.

"Shit," James mumbles, only needing to take a look for reassurance to know where Y/n was currently at.

"This is all your fault." He shoved his finger into Y/F/N's chest.

"Excuse me?" Y/F/N stiffened his muscles, gaining the upper hand automatically.

"You just had to say something? You just had to feel so entitled that you drove her away." He stepped closer to the older man, ignoring the team of agents to his left. "I would change my name as well if it meant I wasn't associated to my deadbeat son of a bitch father, but my whore leaving mother." He growled, clenching his fist in the same tight position as Y/F/N.

Temped to punch the young adult in front of him, Y/F/N's nails dug into his hand, leaving crescent shape marks when he released his hand, walking away from the male.

Wasting no time, Aaron went after Y/F/N, determined to get the truth of the situation.

"Hey!" Aaron called out, seeking Y/F/N's attention. "My team and I need to talk to you." He caught up with Y/F/N's walking pace. Y/F/N ignored him and opened the door to his office, a sly smile appearing as he took a seat.

"Y/F/N Fields, do you need my team and I need to get a warrant? This is now a federal investigation and you are non-compliant. After witnessing today's events, I can arrest you for the battery of a federal agent. Do you know the charge of that?" Aaron threatened, sick of the older man's games.

Y/F/N was silent at first, unsure of the truth to Aaron's statement.

"No need for a warrant, I'll talk." He said after a quiet minute.

"How's life?" Micheal tried to make conversation as he looked to the young female next to him. The sunshine covered her body as the ground sat before her feet.

"Life." She chuckled sarcastically.

"Remember that one time when we were doing homework and I fell down the stairs from not paying attention?" Micheal laughed.

But Y/n didn't. They weren't doing homework that time, they were high.

"Do you have it?" She asked, changing her tone and stance, muscles tightening as she sat up straight.

"You don't want it." Micheal looked at Y/n with sad eyes, regretting the pity look as all her anger was suddenly being taken out on him.

"Don't tell me what I want," She growled. "This is all your fault, everything." Y/n pointed her finger in Micheal's face.

Unshocked by Y/n's statement, Michael didn't react. He didn't push away her finger, he didn't scream at her, he just looked at the concrete below him and stayed quiet.

"It's your fault." She said again, jerking her finger so close to his eyes, one move and she would have poked him.

"Just try it." Micheal pressed.

"It's just-," Y/n tried to compose herself. "I've never those before and my dad will probably kill me." She pushed away Micheal's hand, along with the pill inside of it.

"Ouu, is someone afraid of Sheriff Feilds?" The teenager taunted.

The truth was yes. While others were afraid of bugs and huge dogs, the 15-year-old girl was afraid of her father like never before. He was angry all the time. Her mother finally left and it was up to Y/n to maintain both roles. Any slip-up, any bad grade, anything slightly minor, and she was yelled at, pushed to the wall, screamed at, and just like last night, she would feel his anger across her face.

"You see?" Micheal grabbed her attention and focus. "You're so caught up in that head of yours, these bad boys make it all go away."

The last few words caught Y/n's attention.

"So all my thoughts are happy thoughts now?" She questioned, a hint of embarrassment flowing through her body as Micheal openly laughed in her face.

"More like, they just push away from them for another time. Wanna try now?" He opened up his hand again, pushing back to Y/n.

Hesitant, Y/n took the small pill and a gulp of water, waiting for her high to kick in.

"What happened to making it better?" She accused before becoming face to face with Micheal.

"Give it to me and I'll be out of that matted mess of a hair." Y/n opened her hand.

Micheal reached into his pocket and put the small baggie of pills into Y/n's hand. In return, Y/n took out cash from her back pocket and threw it into his lap. Silently, Y/n walked down the stairs of the townhouse, the pills creating a burning hole in her pocket.

Pulling out her phone, Y/n turned it on and headed for the station, each attempt to prepare herself for what was coming next failing.

#derek morgan #derek morgan fic #derek morgan x reader #Chocolate Thunder #bau x reader #reader insert #mjmoreid #Criminal Minds #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds fic

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walkingtaetrash · 3 years

Text

THOUGHTS ON GILMORE GIRLS:

i have so much to say y’all regarding gilmore girls. I LOVE this show. i have a very tension filled hatred for some parts but most of all LOVE.

after watching seven whole seasons of these girls lives, i have to say i truly understand the complexities of these characters. we’re not even gonna get into the years of a our lives thing, no this is about the freaking original. god, the amount of shit that rory did, lorelai did, chris did, luke did, emily and richard, I MEANNNN god it’s a lot

1. Rory.

gosh this girl was so frustratingly annoying. a perfect gem and pearl in the first year, and then later she becomes a nuisance. but what i truly see is her finally getting out of that naivety/handholding/dewy eyed phase and onto things like being a teen. this girl really stole a boat and got it on her record and what i hated about the show is that they never bring it up again. like that def affected her getting into places bUT NOOOOO. they wanna paint her out as some saint. i think the only sympathy i have to her behavior is that she was growing into who she was. i thought thank goodness Jess screamed at the girl to go back to yale because Logan wasn’t gonna do it!! gosh the whole relationships this girls gone thru, ruining deans marriage, cheating on logan with jess and making jess sad, going back to logan again and again after he treated her like crap? like NO honey that’s toxicityyyyyy. anyways she was annoying but at the end i love her.

2. lorelai.

I LOVE THIS WOMAN. no matter how many times she screwed up i could never stop loving this woman. does this mean i have bias ? YES. sorry y’all. i just related so much to these two. the dynamic of a single mom and her kid spoke so much to me and my mom. but also i am not like lor and rory, i’m more like lor and emily. i have the same mommy issues, caffeine addiction, and a incessant need to ramble on about god knows what. i do not have the sexy, charming wit she has, but i do think i’m funny and i talk a lot (i mean look at this long ass text post) BUT she’s just so beautiful and wonderful. she went thru so much for rory and made her into the kid she is today and just was so understanding. i wish she gave emily grace but at the end like i truly get why she was always so frustrated. there were times where she was excessive but damn it i get her. i love her and luke. why tf did jason happen. also the chris marriage so nasty, but all in all she deserves love and to be cherished.

3. luke

this man holds my heart gosh damn it, i love him. i don’t know why april came into his life, maybe to add some spice. i think he never would’ve forgotten to wear a condom lowkey he’s so responsible. but hey, whatever the show includes. i think he handled that part so well tho , and only fighting for partial custody , i truly loved that. he didn’t wanna make it a big thing cause he knows that april needs her mom, but i thought it was rude that Anna (ew), someone who knew Luke’s character, and knows what kind of guy he is, would not tell him he had a kid. and then expects him not wanna be a dad? like he is the ultimate “i wanna make sure everything’s done right on my end, i’ll always do what i think is right” type of guy. he did that with jess i mean come on. i love his anger about things cause it reminds me of my own dad, and like i wish there was more complexity to him, but i think he repetitive nature suited him. he had a lot of chaos in his life and tranquility in the small things in life like routine and filling the salt shakers really helped him feel grounded and have a sense of control. i love him, the most caring dude in the world, and i would want him on my side in a war.

4. dean

we gotta start somewhere for rory’s boyfriends. i think he was a good first boyfriend, treated her right, but goSH DAMN IT HE WAS SO FUCKING ANNOYING LATER ON. see i even started watching gilmore girls cause jared padalecki was in it, and i was so awestruck by it cause of the characters but DAMN if a character could be even more annoying. dean was not into the things rory was into and they had no spark, but they had comfortability and it was sweet and he helped lorelai out a lot and treated her good, but he legit was so clingy and all that shit later on. and like he wasn’t even trying wiyh life with her in it either and it just frustrated me. he messed up a marriage for her, it’s so wrong man. like ugh.

5. jess

if i could hug someone i would hug him omg. he looks like he smells like those manly colognes, books, and hair products but the fruit scented kind like coconuts and berries that he’s embarrassed to tell you about. gosh he is such a character. i love him so much and he went thru so much as a kid and i wish he never had that scene of pressuring rory cause that was a HUGE ick but all in all, he just had to go to therapy and know he could make it big. i wish they input his story more and that whole outfit at the poetry house thing was vomit, the hair and goatee made me choke i was like this aint you bby boy, but alas they had to make him look like those 2000 poet guys (i mean it was in the 2000’s but i digress) it just wasn’t his leather jacket and jeans look i missed. he was the one who understood rory in all her creative mess. he was the one to spark up that drive for yale again and told her to pursue whatever she wanted (granted i didn’t like how he showed up at her dorm and was like let’s run away together) but he was there for her in the ways he could. he had so much trauma tho that i think it was best they let go of each other and i think if they found each other again later and pursued it it would be beautiful.

6. logan.

i hated him at first yall. i’m so sorry i really did. he was a player, immature, immoral, and annoyingly right about things. rory did not need his influence. they stole a boat together, he wanted her to be out of her comfort zone yes but damn to what extreme? i think after he matured up, it was so beautiful tho. i hate to admit it but i love him now. he grew on me, he truly started caring for rory in a responsible way, he started working, he started realizing he could lose rory, and in the end it was sad she didn’t accept but he took it like a champ. i think he was so ready for it cause he loved her but he couldn’t have expected her to drop all her career options and just go with him to san francisco. i think he should’ve known her well enough but i also get why he didn’t wanna do long distance. i think he connected with her very well. in the way that pointed out her ICKS she never knew she had. she also was a trust fund baby with a rich family and is at Yale and doesn’t have to work through college. i hated that she never acknowledged that and thought she was some fucking hard worker. like yes you study a lot ma’am but you don’t work you’re not someone who knows what it’s like to worry about rent the next day. like damn she had a mom and she had her pool house shit and i also think it was so ungrateful the way she acted towards emily and richard. like they did so much shit for her and she took it for granted. yes they can be extreme but rory needs to be nicer. she is literally another pompous kid who attended an ivy league and she acted so high and mighty in that article ugh. anyways logan was able to show her that hey you have flaws too don’t think you’re perfect but also showed her her TRUE potential. he wanted her on a newspaper and wanted her things to excel and was there with her every step of the way. paid for an apartment, dor a car, and i feel she never really acknowledged that. it was frustrating. but he was frustrating in ways too with the bridesmaid things and the player things and the gambling with Colin and Finn (why did they exist) and yeah. but anyways 9/10

7. christopher hayden.

can i say i fully loathe this man? HATE. i despISE this man. the amount of times he messed up? the amount of times he broke rory and lorelai’s heart?? TOO MANY. he’s a dumb dad and he acts stupid with GG too and i stand by it and sherry is a bitch but damn oh damn did chris get himself in shit. lorelai was ready to marry him and be with him and he went to sherry. SHERRY DIDNT EVEN WANT THE KID. well she did and then it came by and she didn’t and then she left and that was confusing asf. cause she was over here talking rory’s ear off about chris and kids she was the most annoying character ever. hated her . BUT I HATE CHRIS MORE. then lorelai dated luke and pushed her and expected her to be with him and it to be fine. no. and thank god they split but damn the hurt lorelai went thru? it’s embarrassing when luke is the one at the hospital for lor’s dad instead of the husband. anyways it was stupud of him to always try. and then like mess it up between him and rory and act like a dad when he was barely there for her, but either way i’m happy he paid for yale and he’s out of their lives as much as he was in it.

8. emily.

EMILY MY LOVE. you are so stubborn and so conceited but damn do you love your family to the moon and back. this woman was a wife through and through and i have so much respect for her and it’s so weird because i’d never want that for me and it’s so traditional but she’s such a caring woman. only for her blood tho it’s so funny the way she could care less about those around her. um, i hate the rich things ya know the “status, and being poised” thibg but i have to realize it’s becaus of how she was raised and what she was taught was correct. i think lorelai never deserved that uobringing but i think emily tried her best in what she knew. and she tried to be better and wanted to be included in rory and lorelai’s life. even if she was always annoyed by lorelai’s jokes, she knew that was their dynamic and i loved that lorelai agreed to friday night dinners even after rory left it meant so much to her. and i love emily. she loves lorelai so much in her weird and twisted way, she does. that girl would kill for lorelai. i’d move mountains for this woman

9. richard

i needed time to get used to him at the beginning of the season but later on i found that i loved him too. the loving at first about the rory cryibg about yale thing was cute cause it was his first “i’m your grandpa i’d do anything and spoil you silly” event he ever experienced but it was so intense and i totally understood why he coddled her. i wish he didn’t cause it caused all the problems but it was necessary to see his love for her was strong.

they had to find ways in connecting in the beginning with the golf and the hat and books and all that but rory and richard were so close and i love that man. at the end, he saw no use in fighting with lorelai and even laughed at her jokes and was a mediator between emily and lor and the heart attack def did shit to him for him to say he knew lorelai was adored because she turned out to be a great person and that’s why the town loved her, it wa all so cute. i think at the end of the seasons we grow to love richard and emily so much so that we forget all the bad things they did.

kirk.

100000/10 he’s amazing i never would give him up.

enough daid, this show is great i love the complexities and i love the dynamic, the jokes, (some are problematic like the body shaming, r word, culture stereotyping, and sexuality jokes) i think that it was a great show focused on plot. i hated the first episode of the life thing the spin off i forget what it’s called, but you know. they made a lot of “spanish i don’t speak spanish” jokes and there’s barely still any diversity in the cast, and the jokes are so bad like they’re trying to be accepting of the lgbtq+ community but they made jokes so many times in season 7 that it can’t be ignored and like the amount of times they are so stereotypical to the asian community like “rory’s trip to asia”? like that whole episode was so rude with the hello kitty sign, but like idk

it’s a complicated show, i loved it and hated it, i have a love relationship with it that includes such tension it’s toxic. like i’m even hispanic and the whole bit of them not knowing soanish nor thinking they can learn a bit (idk as a inn owner maybe pick up a language/trade?) is not even that effecting to me cause i know them as characters on the show and the girls we grew to love are not like that at all. idk it’s so weird. idk y’all. anyways i finsihed it thank goodness now someone pls recommend new shows :))))

#gilmore girls #rory gilmore #lorelai gilmore #luke danes #logan huntzberger #jess mariano #me rambling #there’s no end to it #i apologize but i had to let it out #enjoy this lol

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carryonmywaywardwriters · 4 years

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Knot In Love - Alpha!Dean x Omega! Reader

A/N: Part Twelve is back. Again, where it’s a daily thing? I am not tagging anyone new. 3pm is the magical time, usually. As always, feedback is incredible. And, I hope you all enjoy one of my favorites <3

PSA: I am NOT a minor friendly blog. If you are below 18, please come back when you’re older. I don’t want to lose my blog because you were too eager to grow up. If I discover you, I WILL block.

Series Masterlist

Series Warnings: Forced mating. Knotting. Alpha/Omega dynamics. Witchcraft (more based on real craft than Hollywood). Angst. Etc. Read at your own discretion.

Word Count: Roughly 3,700

“Y/N!” Jack tried to be gentle. Attempted to still your clawing hands. He couldn't break through the screaming. Wasn't able reach any part of your mind as you unsuccessfully moved to tear at the raw and bleeding mark that Dean had left. No words left your lips. There was nothing left inside of you that would allow for such a thing. Only agonized cries that covered the noise coming from the forgotten phone. “Please...Please, just stop!” Tears ran down your face. Your feet kicked out as your arms were pinned down to your chest. “I need you to stop!” Jack's voice caught in his throat. “Please...don't make me hurt you.”

“Alpha!” You finally managed a single word that had morphed into more of a wail. Louder than anything a banshee could conjure up. Your body arching as you fought to rip away the broken bond. The body's way of trying to save itself.

Jack's head turned back to the device he'd abandoned. Something had gone wrong on the other end. Instinctively, he loosened his grip. Prepared to go. Demand to know what was happening over there. The moment you could move, your hands dug through the exposed meat. Shredding it further. As if it would take away your pain.

“I don't know what's going on,” Jack re-pinned your arms. Guilt ridden liquid beginning to fill his eyes. “But, you're going to be okay, Y/N. Okay?” His eyes glowed gold when they met yours. “I promise...you're going to be fine.” Slowly, your struggles lessened. The E/C gaze that had been wide open with instinctual fury began to close. You fell asleep, whispering Dean's name. Jack left you once he was sure that it was safe to; moving to grab the cell phone. “Sam? What's going on?”

“Dean!” Sam was still trying to call to his brother. Jack listened in. His head turning to face your listless body. Not sure on what he could do in that moment.

Worry for all those he loved filled him to the brink; sending the lamp's glass scattering through the room as it exploded. “Will someone just give me answers? I don't know what to do!” The phone was whipped across the space between him and the wall. It was in tiny pieces as he stared at what he'd done. “I don't know what to do,” He whispered that time.

The boy's body slid down the door. His hands covered his face; completely unphased by the blood present. Too terrified that he could be about to lose another mother.

“And,” The drawn out word covered Sam's pleas for Dean to wake mixing with thunder. “That's enough of that,” The reaper ordered, pausing time to silence the scene playing out in front of them using her hand to let the energy free. Her scythe in her spare hand. The hook standing well above her.

“No,” Dean turned away from his body and brother, back to the woman who stood so patiently. “I saw Cas kill you.”

“How's that working out for him?” The older Winchester closed his mouth at the little chuckle that left the red lined lips. His expression morphing into the infamous bitch face. “It's funny to hear a Winchester talk about the finality of dying.” Sarcasm was heavy in the air at that one. “This reality...it has rules, Dean. So many rules.” He didn't make a sound. “And one of them,” She continued. “Kill one incarnation of death, like you did...the next reaper to die takes his place.” Her hand left the scythe. Antagonizing the hunter while pulling off the leather gloves, “So...When Castiel stabbed me in the back?” Black nail polish came into view. “Turns out, I got a promotion,” The familiar white topped ring adorned her finger as she re-gripped the scythe. “New job. New gear.”

“So you died to become death,” Dean pieced it together. Feeling as if they'd been played. In a way, they had. Again.

“This universe can be so many things...and sometimes, it is so poetic.” She answered, more than a little smug. She'd earned the right, after all. She'd come out on top of everything. “That's why we need to talk.”

Billie turned away, and instantly Dean found himself in a different place, “The hell?”

“Welcome to my reading room,” Billie stated, leading the way to her desk. Dean's eyes looked over the giant, black rows of cases. Each one filled to the brim with books. All were labeled 'W' in that particular section.

“Know not to leave this lying around near you. Don't we?” She referenced the previous death's end easily as the scythe was put away. Mocking it. Mocking Dean.

“So...” Dean began warily. Attempting to piece together exactly what was happening. “Am I dead?”

“You killed yourself,” The dark trench coat was pulled off of her shoulders as she moved to her waiting seat. Not even slightly intimidated by the man who'd managed to change the world more times than anyone could count.

“No.” He countered, making sure she understood his true intention behind the question. “Are you keeping me dead?” His inquiry was almost hopeful in nature. Life had been cruel. Especially to anyone with his last name attached. It would be a relief to not have to fight the good fight for a second more.

“Now, that depends on you,” The coat was draped over the back of her chair. Looking at him as if he would know exactly how to take that.

“Okay. Uh...” He clearly had no clue. “Well, congrats on your promotion.” The falsely chipper was so very Dean Winchester. A twisted little side smile tugged at his tense features. “Uh, but I got a house full of ghosts waiting on me and my brother to get back to.” He pointed backwards, fully prepared to retrace his steps. “So, if it's up to me-”

“I didn't say it was up to you.” She leaned forward a hint as she talked. His eyes stared blankly at her face. “I said it depends on you.” He needed clarification, so she continued. “Word on the interdimensional street is you've been slipping between worlds, Dean.” Her intensity never lowered. “I wanna know how you did it. Now.”

“Well,” His eyes squinted ever so slightly. Finding his upper hand. Ready to wield it as needed. “I thought Death knew everything.” She took a steadying breath as the tables turned in his favor. Just a hint, but it was more than Billie cared for. That much was obvious.

“Then you can imagine how much this one little blind spot is really bothering me.” The smile on her face was far from friendly.

“What's in it for me?” The infamous Winchester demand came forth. His head tilted to the side as he waited. Giving her the same energy she'd offered.

Her arms crossed as she opened her mouth to speak, “What do you want?”

He didn't have to think it over for too long, “Free the ghosts.”

“Excuse me?” Her response said she expected something more personal. Expected him to try and gain something for the world. Change something in his past that had left him feeling wronged. All demands he'd have in the good ole days.

“Free the ghosts at the Meadows house.” He stated again, more clear this time around. “Let them move on, and I'll tell you whatever you wanna know.” He should have asked her to remove the marks that bound him to you. Should have asked for a million things different. Yet, in that moment, none of them crossed his mind. He was too set on his mission. On the most recent feeling of regret tied to Shawn. He'd promised the boy, after all.

Billie was wide eyed with surprise, but she didn't take long to agree. When a Winchester offered something so simple, monsters took it without hesitation. “Deal.” Eye contact remained enforced for what was far too long to be comfortable. “It's done.”

The red haired reaper, Jessica, had made quick work of it. The souls all long past their time. Eager to go.

“How do I know I can trust you?”

“You don't.” The honest answer didn't take any time to slip out. She dropped her arms, moving away from her desk once again. “But, then again... I'm not the one breaking cosmic bargains left and right.” Her fingers brushed against the table as the other hand held her throat in emphasis. Reminding him of their last meeting. “Now am I?”

A small chuckle left Dean as he stared her down, unflinchingly, “Yeah, it's not like you hold a grudge.” He turned his face away.

“Don't I?” Her hands moved back to cross over her front. “So...spill.”A little head bob that said that he didn't have much choice followed before he spoke.

“Lucifer's son. Jack.” He sold the boy out without remorse. His brows lifting a bit as he said the name. Almost sarcastic. Residual jealousy filling the air. The boy had things in his life that Dean had craved. Including you. “When he was born, it created a little rip.”

“A little rip?” Billie didn't sound as if she bought it. He only bothered to make a sound at the back of his throat. A little noise to say that she could parrot properly. “Into another world?” Suddenly, she was on the prowl again. “And you went there?”

Another little noise with a small eye roll followed, “Yeah. I'll just say it's, uh, it's not candy land.” The snarky gaze with the words would have infuriated lesser beings. Had in the past.

“I'll bet.” Was all he got from the newest Death.

“Why do you care?” He was back on the defense. Not trusting a thing happening in that moment.

“Because I do,” It was an easy answer. She stepped forward once again. “Because...this whole multi-versal quantum construct we live in, it's like a house of cards. And the last thing I need is some big, dumb Winchester knocking it all down.”

A little hum left his lips as he nodded, “That does sound like us.” A tiny, wry grin lifted his cheeks. Patronizing as always. Only, it wasn't her he was mocking. No, it was himself. Her dark eyes trailed over him as she decided how to respond.

“You've changed,” She finally settled on. He didn't make a sound. Simply watched her, waiting for the next words. “When you bargained with me just now, you could've asked to go back. To live. Could have asked to end your mating.”

“How did you-” He cut himself off. Knowing that she would only point out her new status. Her raised brows said as much. “Well, I figure with you in charge,” He changed tactics, “there's no getting back for me.”

“That doesn't sound like the Dean Winchester I know and love,” She purred, moving around him. Her hands behind her back as she waltzed into the section of books. “The man who's been dead so many times, but it never seemed to stick.” His eyes and body twisted around to follow her. “Maybe you're not that guy, anymore. The guy who saves the world. The guy who always thinks he'll win, no matter what.” Not a sound left him. “You have changed.” His eyes refused to meet hers. “And, you tell people it's not a big deal.” She was on a roll, with no desire to stop twisting the knife. “You tell people you'll work through it, but you know you won't. You can't. And that scares the hell out of you.” Your face crossed his mind, then. All smiley and sparkly eyed. The only thing that could have given him that chance. And he was trying to throw it away. He didn't have a choice if he wanted you to stay that way. “Or...” Billie had caught the gleam in his eye. “Am I wrong?”

“What do you want me to say?” Dean nodded a little as he spoke. “Doesn't matter. I don't matter.” The world had shown him that time and time again.

“Don't you?” He tried to remain stoic, but there was the slightest bit of longing present on his face. He wanted to believe her words. He just couldn't afford to.

“I couldn't save mom.” He started listing off his most recent failures. “I couldn't save Cas. I can't even save a scared little kid.” The self hatred poured out of his very soul. “My mate? She chooses the devil's kid over me. Time and time again.” He wasn't done. Not even close. “Sam keeps trying to fix it, but I just keep dragging him down.” A deep breath left him as he realized just saying the words took some of the edge off. “So, I'm not gonna beg.” His shoulders tightened back up as he met her eyes. “Okay? If it's my time, it's my time.”

“You really believe that.” He didn't say a word. Looking away for only a moment as his eyes watered. Blinking them away as he turned back. “You wanna die.” He simply stared at her, bringing his barriers back in place. Waiting for it to be the end. He was so damn close. “Dean...” She turned away, eyeing up the shelf to her side. “Every notebook on this particular shelf tells a version of how you die.” He didn't blink. Shaking ever so slightly in place. “You specifically.” Her hand closed over a book. “Heart attack, burned by a red haired witch, stabbed by a ghoul in a graveyard, and on and on.” Her hand touched a new book with each step. With each word. His eyes followed the movement before moving up. Looking at just how many were present. He couldn't even count them all. He breathed in deeply, looking at all the possibilities. He'd always known they were there. It had never felt more real until that moment. “But, which one's right?” She didn't wait for an answer. “That depends on you. On the choices you make.”

“Well,” Dean spoke up. Stubborn as always. “I guess I made my choice.” He was okay with it. Even if it meant not getting to say goodbye.

“But,” She lifted her hands away from the books, “unfortunately... none of these books say you die today.”

“Come again?” That was the last thing that he'd been expecting.

“Since I got this... new job, I stand witness to a much larger picture.” She moved forward, once again. Not giving Dean room to ignore what she had to say. It was too important. “Do you know what I see?” His head shook in the barest of ways. “You. And your brother...even your mate. You're important.”

“Why?” He didn't like that you were brought into it. That you'd become a pawn in the game that was the universe rather than a regular person.

“You have work to do.” With that, she walked away. Past him without pause. “That's all you need to know.” He turned as she got back to her desk. “And trust me, having my eyes opened to the necessities of any humans, especially Winchesters, is not a thrill.” Her tone fit her words. She would much rather hold him hostage in either heaven or hell. “So...you wanna die, but I say...keep living.”

A little hum left his lips before he clicked his tongue; deciding to ask, “I need to know. My mom-” Billy didn't even give him a chance to open his eyes back up in the room. He woke up surging upwards and gasping for air.

“Hey!” Sam was brushing over his hair. Helping him sit up, “You're okay.”

“Yeah,” Dean managed, looking around for any sign of the newly promoted reaper. She was long gone.

“Yeah,” Sam leaned back against the wall, whispering more to himself than anyone, “you're okay.” His hand went up to rest against his head. Then, he remembered. “But, Y/N...”

Dean's head jerked to his brother, “What the hell are you talking about?”

“You just died, Dean.” Sam's voice gained a bit of steel to it. Anger rising to the surface. “You just died, while mated.”

“Where's the phone?” His body screamed. The lack of blood flow leaving him tingly. His chest throbbing. But none of that prevented him from sitting up enough to search for the technology. Sam passed it to him. “Shit.”

“Jack called.” The terror flooded his chest at that. Only to grow worse when the other line went straight to voicemail. “It didn't sound good...” Sam was honest in a way to try and breakthrough to his brother.

“Let's wrap this up...get home.” He started collecting the items he'd tossed from the bag. Groaning all the while. “It was only a few minutes,” Dean tried to tell himself. “She's probably in heat, or somethin'. I can fix it.” His brother didn't look so convinced.

The sun was starting to rise. They had to take care of the bodies before they left. It was going to be a long day...

“Y/N!” Jack's voice penetrated the fog as you blinked awake. It burned. That was all you could think at first. Your entire body ached. But, your neck was on fire.

“Jack?” You forced yourself to sit up. Your fingers brushing against the crude gauze job that was done over your mating mark. He'd tried, at least. “What happened?”

“I...I don't know,” He answered honestly. Too relieved at the shift to slow down his answer. “I tried calling Sam, but then...” You knew what he was remembering. Wincing as you recalled it. “I had to try and calm you down.” The pain had been unbelievable. As if your soul had ripped from your body. You'd just wanted it to stop.

“Dean...” You touched the damaged mark again, wincing at the pressure. “It was Dean...Something happened during the hunt.” You understood all too well what the clawing was about. Your aunt had scars from the same thing. Your mate had died. Yet, somehow, you were okay mere hours later. “Did you get a hold of Sam?”

“Not yet,” He looked a little ashamed at that one. “I broke the phone.”

“It's not your fault,” Your hand brushed over his. Refusing to let him take any blame. “How bad is the damage?”

Blood and dried out flesh lined the underside of your nails when you looked down. It covered your clothes. You'd been damn lucky you'd missed the vitals running through the area.

“Pretty bad,” The lack of filter on him was refreshing. Most humans lost it before they even reached double digits. “I would have tried to heal it, but-”

“Jack,” A little squeeze made his eyes reach yours. “You did just fine. You knocked me out. Covered it up.” It was more than most would have thought of, giving the circumstances. “You saved me.”

“I put some witch hazel on it, too.” He had remembered that it could be used to help bleeding. Promote healing by taking out inflammation. It was also good at helping prevent infection. Nothing else had felt safe after he'd carefully cleaned the area. It had been meant for minor bleeding, but his mind had figured that it would at least give you a boost.

“You remembered,” A small chuckle left you at that. “It should help.” With a groan, you tugged yourself upwards. “Thank you, Jack.” You leaned forward, pressing your lips to his forehead. “I don't know what I would have done if you weren't here.”

“You should rest,” He insisted, forcing you to lay back down. He didn't want to think about it himself. “Whatever you need, just ask. I'll help.”

“Jack...I really need to pee,” You finally confessed, earning a small blush. Trying gently to give him the boot.

“I can walk with you...just in case.” His cheeks were dotted pink, but he was bent on his mission. Terrified that there'd be a repeat performance. With a nod, you gave in.

In the end, it was for the best. You were amazed at just how weak you truly were. Your body still reacting to the trauma of losing a mate the night before. Your soul still exhausted from the impact it had taken. Once again, your mind wandered to Dean. Wondering just what the hell had happened.

Dean didn't like to see grieving families. Liked opening up to Sam about what had happened even less. Having to explain Billie and the entire scenario wasted time. Forced him to admit he wasn't okay. That part had hurt him the most. Especially when they should have been on the road.

Calling wouldn't be good enough, even if the other side magically managed to answer. He needed to see his mate and he needed to see her immediately. So, when they got in the car? He'd hit the gas. Hard.

Sam had fallen asleep in the passenger seat. The familiar music was playing. Yet, that twitchy feeling never did fade.

He told himself over and over that it had only been three minutes. That wasn't time for you to react. Some omegas didn't feel it for hours. Before he could make the mental convictions stick, his phone rang; waking Sam up in the process.

“Yeah.” He answered without his usual perk. Waiting to be chewed out. He hadn't checked the name, but there was only one person he'd thought of. You. His subconscious wouldn't let the idea go. When the voice came across, though, you were forgotten for the first time.

A detour was made. It was a necessary evil. Tacking on an extra couple of hours.

As they pulled up to the pay phone, the deeply missed trench coat was standing there, encasing a form neither man thought that they'd ever see again. Both brothers approached, not saying a word. They didn't need to. The second he turned around, there was no doubt. Castiel. He was back...

Forever: @dean-winchesters-bacon @supernaturalginger @lilulo-12 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @michaelneedssomemilk @lemondropirwin @fanfictionismydeath @neii3n @surmya1907

Dean/Jensen: @akshi8278 @screechingartisancashbailiff @woodworthti666 @coldmuffinbanditshoe

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avengerscompound · 4 years

Text

Catch and Release - 6

Catch and Release: A Captain America Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Word Count: 2000

Rating: M

Square filled: @star-spangled-bingo - Resting a Head on their Shoulder

Warnings: Sex talk, mentions of sex, and threats of violence

Synopsis: When you overexert yourself on a mission with Steve and Bucky, the boys admit to having fantasies that involve you. Fantasies that you share. But with one Super Soldier needs intimacy and the other is still dealing with being touch starved, exploring those desires without anyone catching feelings is a little tricky.

Chapter 6: Reeling Them In

You woke up to the sounds of Steve moving around the room and for a moment you panicked. You sat up and threw up your hands, looking around the room that definitely wasn’t yours. Bucky startled beside you and fell out of the side of the bed, doing a forward somersault and landing ready to lunge. “What the hell? What’s going on?” He said as Steve started laughing.

“Nothing, but that was really entertaining,” Steve answered as he pulled on a compression shirt. “It’s time to get up anyway. We have time for a quick breakfast before we’re needed down at training. And you -” he said nodding in your direction. “- Need to get to physio.”

“Right. Yes.” You said, rolling out of bed.

Bucky ran his hand through his hair. “Do I have time for a shower?”

“Depends on what you want to eat. But we can take one together after training if you like.” Steve said as he disappeared into the bathroom

You wrapped a sheet around you and started collecting up your clothes, wishing you'd considered how awkward it would feel to wake up naked and then need to dress in front of two guys who you weren't in a relationship with before you'd fallen asleep. It was weird. They'd seen you naked. They'd both been inside you, multiple times. But now the sun was up and they were Bucky and Steve again. Your friends, not your lovers. Worse than that. They are Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes. And you were naked.

Plus your cunt ached from last night. And you had hickeys on your breasts and inside your thighs. Probably your neck too but you hadn't seen yourself yet to assess the damage. And you were going to have to do the walk of shame back to your apartment in your clothes from last night and change because there was no way you could go to physio in the black lace thong, push up bra and cocktail dress you'd worn here in the first place.

You started to dress while continuing to attempt an iota of modesty.

“You like blueberries in your pancakes?” Bucky asked as he started getting dressed into sweats.

“Who me?” You asked.

Bucky laughed. “Yeah, you. I’ve known Steve likes blueberries for a while now.”

“I’m staying for breakfast?” You asked.

“You don’t have to. But… yes?” Bucky said. “What’s happening right now?”

“I just… have to shower and change and I don’t have clothes here.” You said.

Steve appeared again and tapped his watch. “Running out of time if you want pancakes.”

“Right. You talk to her. I’m putting blueberries in them.” Bucky said, dashing out of the room as he pulled on a t-shirt.

Steve looked over at you as you stood, shimmying back into the dress. “Did something happen?”

“Bucky asked me to stay for breakfast.” You said.

Steve looked at you with an expression of confusion written on his face. “And?”

“I just wasn’t expecting it. And I gotta get ready.” You said, turning around. “Can you zip me up?”

Steve stepped up behind you and placed his hand on the middle of your back to hold the fabric in place as he slid the zip up. “You have more time than us to get ready. So you don’t have to worry. There’s no obligation though. If you’re feeling uncomfortable after last night…”

You let out a breath. “I guess… it was just weird. We haven’t woken up together like that before. It’s always just wham-bam-thank you, fellas. Talk later. And then later we’re back to just friends. But I don’t sleep naked with any other friends.” You shook your head. “Sorry, I feel like I’m making it worse because I’m having trouble explaining it.”

Steve opened his arms to you and you moved into them, letting him engulf you in a hug. You rested your head on his shoulder and breathed him in. He still had the faint smell of sex, though you could tell he’d tried to cover it. The scent of soap and sweat and old spice didn’t quite mask it. “I understand,” he said gently. “I wake up early to take a run before training. This morning I kept thinking I was glad you were still asleep so I could change without worrying about trying to cover up.”

You laughed. “Man. Gonna have to try and not do the sleepover thing, huh?”

“We’ll figure out what works for us,” Steve said, rubbing your back. “I know this isn’t really the same thing, but when Bucky and I finally admitted that maybe we wanted to be more than friends, everything was awkward. We grew up together and now suddenly we’re kissing and sharing a bed and we’re having to figure out what we like and when we’re both ready for it. We were apologizing to each other for stupid things like walking in when one of us was changing when before we were a couple we just changed in front of each other. But if we keep doing this - which maybe we won’t - but if… we’ll work it out. Just gotta accept that sometimes it’s going to be awkward because it’s not how it usually is.”

“You’re so wise, Steve,” you said, playfully.

“Don’t say it like that, it makes me sound old,” Steve said, pulling back and looking down at you with his hands on your arms.

“You are old, grandpa,” you teased. “So breakfast?”

“Do you want some of Bucky’s pancakes? They are his specialty.”

You nodded. “Well, how can I refuse that?”

The three of you ate together and the awkwardness you had been feeling dissipated. By the time you all headed out to the elevator to start the day it was just back to being the same old friends dynamic you had always shared with them.

The elevator doors slid open to reveal Clint leaning against the back wall. He nodded to the three of you and then startled, jumping up so he was standing to attention.

“Clint,” Steve said getting on the elevator. “Nice to see you on time for a change.”

You hit the number for your floor as everyone turned and faced the doors.

“I’m not, Cap. You’re late.” He said.

“You’re still on daylight savings time, dumbass,” Bucky said.

“Aww, man,” Clint whined, leaning back against the wall again. “I could have slept in.”

There was a tap on your shoulder and you leaned back to see Clint looking at you with his eyebrows raised. ‘Did you…?’ he mouthed, gesturing to Steve and Bucky.

You bit your bottom lip and winked at him.

“Nice,” Clint said.

“What was that?” Steve asked as the elevator stopped on your floor.

“Oh, nothing. Just thinking about coffee.” Clint joked and held his fist out to you. You bumped it as you got off the elevator. “See you guys later.”

“Good luck with your physio,” Bucky called as the doors closed.

You went and showered and changed into your workout clothes before heading down to physio. It went as well as expected considering how bowlegged you were walking today. When you got back to your apartment you found Natasha sitting on your kitchen bench slicing up a mango with a knife, nearly giving you a heart attack.

“Jesus Christ, Nat!” You cursed. “Just let yourself in!”

“I will, thank you,” Natasha said, flipping one cheek of the fruit inside out and biting a piece of flesh from it. “Clint told me he saw you doing the walk of shame this morning.”

“Stride of Pride, more like it.” You said going to your fridge grabbing a Gatorade from the fridge and opening it.

“So it’s true? You did tell him you’ve been sleeping with Steve and James?” Natasha asked, slipping off the counter.

“Well, technically I winked at him. But essentially, yes.” You said.

“You do realize that everyone knows now? How do you think that’s going to make them look? Or you for that matter?” Natasha snapped.

“Like a couple of studs and one lucky bitch?” You deadpanned.

“Steve Rogers is Captain America! You think it’s just okay for rumors to be spread around like that? How do you think he’s going to take it when he finds out you told Clint?” She said.

“Go ahead, tell him.”

“You think I won’t?” She said, getting out her phone. “You think I’m going to protect you here?”

“Tell him, Nat. He said he doesn’t care if people know.” You said.

She started dialing her phone as she glared at you. “You want to play chicken with me? I’m going to tell him.”

You shrugged and sipped your drink.

“So this is just a big joke to you?” Natasha said, slamming her phone onto the counter. You wanted to laugh. She was trying so hard not to yell. It was like she’d entered some weird mom mode you’d never seen before and she was a moment away from grounding you.

“Natasha! What’s the big deal? We slept together. We’re adults. We decided to have a little fun. Like you’ve never had a threesome before.” You said.

“Oh slept together? Like one time? And those two other times you did it were just coincidence and this isn’t becoming a habit?” Natasha snarked.

“Jesus! Natasha!” You yelped. “It was actually only twice if you must know. Though I guess it depends how you count it, cause last night, it was so many times… I’m still hurting.”

She narrowed her eyes at you, letting you know that it didn’t matter how many times you made a joke of this, she was dead serious.

You sighed and took a long drink from your bottle, the room falling into an icy silence. “Bucky and Steve wanted to try some stuff out. I liked the sound of it. We’ve just been messing around. It’s fine. We’re adults. We can fuck each other every which way we want. We’re allowed.”

“You forget I know those men. You know how many people I tried to set Steve Rogers up with? He doesn’t just sleep around. And James! The shit James has been through!” She said, folding her arms over her chest.

“Oh. My. God! Natasha Alianova Romanova! Assassin and graduate of the Widow Program! This is the shovel talk! You, of all people, are giving me the shovel talk?!” You teased. “See, I would have expected Sam might do it if anyone was going to. But you? I can’t believe it. We’re being careful. We’re communicating what we need. We’re just having some fun. No one is accidentally falling in love and getting hurt.”

Natasha scowled and pulled herself up to her full height, puffing out her chest. “You know as well as I do that if Steve Rogers is sleeping with you, he’s already caught feelings.”

“Nat, just tell me to not hurt your friends or you’ll kill me and get it over with.” You huffed.

She narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips breathing heavily through her nose. All at once she completely relaxed and shook her head. “Well don’t or I will.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you said. “They’re my friends too and we’re being careful. They just had some things they wanted to explore and they trust me to do it with. We’re being very communicative and I promise, Steve said he didn’t care if people found out. That we weren’t breaking any rules and none of us was a dirty little secret. Okay?”

“Fine.” She huffed.

“You want lunch?” You asked going back to your fridge.

“Thanks. That’d be good.” She said.

“You owe me a mango, by the way. Those things are expensive.” You said as you began pulling things out of the fridge.

“Consider it payment for the fucking heart attack I had when Clint came running up to me at training with his ‘guess what’. I think I aged 80 years.”

You chuckled and started making lunch deciding not to mention the heart attack she gave you by lurking in her kitchen canceled that out. You might have pressed your luck with Nat already today.

// NEXT

#SSB2020 #steve rogers #bucky barnes #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #stucky #steve rogers x bucky barnes #stucky x reader #steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes #captain america fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #catch and release #reeling them in

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randomestfandoms-ocs · 3 years

Note

What’s Kirsty’s relationship with Jess like? (I know you touched on it a bit in the Yale ask but I wanna know more!)

Short answer: “true friends don’t judge each other, they judge other people together” meets “slow burn found family”

Long Answer: oh boy buckle up we’re getting an Outline™ bc I really don’t know how to sum it up bc it’s a lot of growth and shit! it’s like... many many paragraphs so I’m tossing this under a cut bc i don’t want to be murdered lmao

(I’m just... v proud of how much work went into planning out their whole arc and how the dynamic shifts and how certain plots play into things and I just wanted to share it all I couldn’t chill and I’m like half sorry but thank you for this ask I love them)

So when they first meet they don’t really get along because they’re just generally both kind of abrasive and shit, like it’s not personal on either end but they both generally push people away so that they don’t open themselves up to get hurt which makes their first couple of meetings kind of rough

but then there’s the dinner at Lorelai’s and Kirsty went outside because the whole vibe was just setting her on edge, and she hears the Lorelai rant bullshit (hi lorelai he’s seventeen and your an adult grow the fuck up) and as he leaves she goes after him — she tries to apologize for “my mom being... well, the way she is” and Jess immediately snaps back that he doesn’t want her pity, and Kirsty just shrugs and goes “nah dude I get it, parents suck. My dad is a piece of shit and my mom, well, you’ve met her... not to mention she named Rory after herself and me after my piece of shit dad so I’m sure you can guess who her favourite child is” and just keeps it very chill and Jess takes that a lot better than pity and they end up talking for a bit and are like “yeah okay I can get along with you” and like they aren’t close but they both like pissing Taylor off and giving Luke ulcers so it works well enough

Kirsty absolutely flips her shit when Taylor calls the town meeting about Jess like she tears into him more aggressively than anyone has seen before and basically tells them all to shut the fuck up and “let him at least settle in before you pull out the fucking pitchforks” and goes off on them all for trying to bully a seventeen year old kid out of a town he didn’t even choose to move to and like Luke still gets there and flips his shit too but Kirsty is completely feral calling out the hypocrisy and telling them to get off their high horses and pull their heads out of their asses — like they might not be close but Kirsty is so far beyond pissed at the idea of Taylor calling a meeting literally just to get everyone to hate Jess that she can’t just stand there quietly

Fast forward a bit and they’re getting along a bit better, Kirsty spends so much time at the diner that she and Jess have taken to talking during Jess’ shifts and Kirsty helps out when she can so they’re starting to actually get along, Kirsty has figured out the tells for when Jess just can’t deal with people anymore and will make up all sorts of excuses to get him a break (anything from ‘hey can you read over this essay’ to ‘hey did you remember to grab that book from upstairs’ to basically anything else that comes to mind) which he appreciates and when he’s on his breaks he sits at the counter to do homework with her

By the Bracebridge dinner they’re like actually friends, and when Jess meets Tristan for the first time he’s fully prepared to hate him but when he sees how shitty Lorelai is being about Tristan he’s just like “okay guess we’re in the same boat” so the three of them end up working together to stay as far away from Lorelai as possible for most of the night and Kirsty is just very grateful for the buffer because like she just can’t deal with Lorelai and Jess remembers her comment on the “you can guess who the favourite is” and starts to see how much Lorelai’s disapproval actually bothers Kirsty

fast forward even more to Christopher coming to town and with Sherry and all that and oof Kirsty is not okay like her relationship with Christopher is terrible and Jess kind of knows this already (based on the fact that Kirsty asked Luke to stand in for her dad at the debutante ball because she wanted nothing to do with Christopher; and he’s heard her bitch about him before) but when Christopher and Sherry come to the house, Kirsty excuses herself for “dance rehearsal” and runs over to the diner and Luke is out at the moment and Kirsty is Not Okay™ and Jess is the one who sees her just standing in the doorway shaking and clearly about to start crying and he just quietly leads her up to the apartment and sits down and lets her sort of collapse on the couch and she tells him about Christopher and about how unreliable and flakey he always was and how Luke has always been more her dad than him and he always shows up and tries to play happy family and then bails as soon as he gets bored or something comes up and about how now he’s apparently changing and becoming mr family man and why wasn’t she worth changing for

and jess has no idea how to handle this whole breakdown because he's a little bit emotionally stunted (which is fair and so is she) but it definitely resonates with him and he ends up sitting next to her and telling her that if Christopher wasn’t willing to change for she and Rory then it’s because of him not her and trying to comfort her even though he really doesn’t know how, and ends up opening up to her about Liz and his life before Stars Hollow too. It’s more than either of them have shared with anyone before and it’s very strange tbh — at this point they’re definitely veering into the friend category but neither of them would admit it, not to mention they don’t talk that often because neither of them wants to deal with a Lorelai Gilmore Hissy Fit, you know?

(also a sidenote, Tristan is completely chill about literally all of this like he and Kirsty are the healthiest relationship and have very good communication skills now and he's just like “hey I don’t live nearby and Kirsty hates cars, I’m just glad she has someone to talk to”)

and okay so now we’re at the episode where Lorelai accuses Jess of stealing the bracelet and this is just as Kirsty is getting home, and Lorelai is more of a bitch than in canon (but seriously Lorelai grow up and let Dean deal with his own relationship issues ugh) — as Jess is leaving, Kirsty turns around and calls Lorelai out on being an absolute bitch and on the fact that she’s an adult and Jess is seventeen and to grow the fuck up because she’s acting like her mother and believe it or not she doesn’t actually know everything. Kirsty then sort of storms off, and Jess ends up walking with her and just goes “hey, thanks for that” and Kirsty goes “don’t mention it” and they just sort of laugh and part ways so she can go to Miss Patty’s but anyways I’m soft for Kirsty fighting the entire town for him

then we have the hilarious scene of Kirsty looking Dean in the eye, knowing full well that he literally just saw her getting out of Tristan’s car, and going “yes I’m completely in love with jess is that a problem” and jess going “oh Kirsty I’m really flattered but while you were gone I started talking to Paris and I think I’m in love” and they’re just such little shits I love them

and okay now I promise we’re getting close to the speedrun part of this relationship lmaooo

so Kirsty is the one who ends up tutoring Jess and like he’s not on the verge of flunking because Kirsty has already been forcing him to do his homework semi regularly but he has trouble staying on task (he’s a mood) so Kirsty is basically there to make sure that he gets all of his final projects done — they take a break to go get ice cream and the car accident happens and Kirsty gets injured and she’s having a panic attack and she begs Jess to stay with her so he does, she lies to the hospital staff and tells them that he’s her step-brother so that he can stay with her because she’s afraid of hospitals and doesn’t want to be alone. He stays with her until they hear Lorelai and then sneaks out the window; at this point Kirsty has finally called him her friend — while high on painkillers and introducing him to Richard and Emily, who she had him call because she knew Lorelai wouldn’t (they like him much better in this !verse than canon because Kirsty knows how to play them lmao)

Lorelai still pitches a fit to Luke and Jess still leaves and jesus christ when Kirsty finds out about all of that she flips her shit even more than she did at the town meeting, calls Lorelai petty and selfish and a shit mother and tells her that she’s more like Emily than she wants to admit, and this is very possibly when Kirsty finally drops one of my favourite lines of hers — “you and Rory might be best friends first and mother daughter second but I never needed a best friend, I needed a mom. And now I don’t want either.” — and crashes at either Luke’s or Miss Patty’s (and is not thrilled when she finds out that Lorelai called Christopher and that he’s now back and awnting to play dad again)

fast forward and Kirsty knows Jess is in New York but they haven’t talked and Sookie’s wedding happens and Kirsty and Lorelai have their huge fight (this is the other point where that favourite line might happen, I’m torn) and Kirsty packs up and moves to New York for the summer to play Victoria in Cats on Broadway

She gets to New York and she’s staying at a hotel provided by the production company and she’s lonely and miserable and she’s never really been alone before and low and behold she stumbles into some diner on the verge of tears (just a bad day and everything is too much and she’s about to break) when all of a sudden she hears “wow, deja vu. Coffee?” and she turns around and low and behold it’s Jess Mariano. She accepts and sits at the diner until his shift is done and then they leave together and catch up and he offers to be her tour guide, and over the next week they become really close (all of both of their coworkers think that they’re siblings at this point) and blah blah lots of details I won’t get into bc seriously how many paragraphs is this thing, but Emily and Richard end up renting Kirsty this huge penthouse apartment and she manages to convince them to let Jess live with her and they become super close and kind of codependent and skip right over the friend stage to the “this is my brother, Jess” stage lmao and basically everyone in stars hollow except for lorelai and rory (bc kirsty and lorelai aren’t talking for most of the summer and rory is in dc so she and kirsty aren’t talking much either) know because they all came out for her opening weekend and everyone thinks it’s hilarious and their new york friends think Luke is their dad bc he called them “my kids” without thinking about it

also Tristan visits as much as he can get away with and seriously he and Jess become really good friends too and they’re just like, an iconic trio okay I love them

fast forward they go back to stars hollow together the day of the summer festival thing and that’s when Lorelai and Rory find out about their friendship and Lorelai is Not Happy and then Tristan shows up and the three of them are being adorable and having a great time and Lorelai flips out and there’s yet another fight (seriously Lorelai pls stop assuming you always know best, you don’t) and the fight is angsty but there’s the softness of jess finally really accepting that Kirsty meant it when she said that things weren’t going to change when they got back to stars hollow and they don’t and it’s just great

and in season 3 they’re just still all soft and codependent and Lorelai is forced to accept that Jess knows Kirsty better than she does and Rory has some really fun “what the actual fuck” moments watching Lorelai & Luke and Kirsty & Jess have the exact same arguments because Kirsty did inherit Lorelai’s ability to annoy people into doing things like participating in town events and season 3 is just very very soft and there are so many scenes/episodes that I’m so excited for

and anyways this was so long and I’m sorry but also I’m not because like i just really love this dynamic and I want to just like skip two seasons and just write new york & season three because i love them so muchhhhhhhh and anyways yeah

TLDR they’re a slowburn rivals to found family with a speedrun towards the end and i fucking love them so much

#ask #answered #papergirlverse #kirsty gilmore #about kirsty #kirsty x jess #but like platonic

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