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#fucker thinking wearing a mask takes away our rights
valeskafics · 7 months
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Kinktober Day 3: Ettore/Reader + Sex Pollen
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a/n: from two anon requests for kinktober! 💕
TW: DUBCON, profanity, innuendo, she/her pronouns, afab reader, breeding kink, p in v sex, sex pollen ofc, choking
Word Count: 1,000 words
Rating: 18+, MDNI
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the High Life characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.
Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated ❤️
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Keeping your head down on a ship full of criminals only works for so long when one of the most dangerous ones on board is obsessed with you. You’re sitting and eating your lunch, minding your business, doing some work for Dibs, when Ettore struts in like he owns the place. The bastard is a death row inmate, where does he get off being so cocky?
“What’re you doing here all alone?” he asks, eyes fixed on you.
“Nothing you’d understand.”
He frowns and glares at you for a moment before speaking again, “Well, Dibs sent me to assist you. We’re looking at some plant, yeah?”
You look at him, unimpressed, removing your mask and goggles, “She sent you to help me with researching an extraterrestrial plant? Do you even have any scientific experience? Any sort of research skills?”
He shrugs, “I’m just doing what the good doctor tells me to do.”
“Just don’t touch anything,” you snap at him as he’s about to touch the plant with his bare hands - stupid fucking idiot, “Could be poisonous.”
He gives you a dirty look, though you don’t miss the way his eyes dart to your tits and he licks his lips. Perv. Ettore raises his hands in mock surrender, rolling his eyes when you hand him a mask and gloves.
“Don’t need ‘em.”
“Suit yourself,” you scoff, “I’m taking a sample of the plant’s genetic material and running it through our analyzer. Just stand there, do exactly what I tell you, and don’t fucking talk.”
Ettore watches you, almost unblinking, before he looks at the flower. He moves to stand behind you, leaning over your shoulder, front side pressed up against your back. You can feel his breath on your neck, the not so subtle way he’s trying to grind his hard-on against your ass.
“It’s pretty, isn’t it?” you muse, looking at the flower, “It’s bioluminescent. That’s what makes it glow.”
His sharp gaze is on you as he speaks, “Mhm. Pretty.”
Suddenly, the plant seems to come alive almost as it lets out a puff of pollen, directed at you and Ettore. At first, you don’t panic. You’re wearing all of your protective gear. Then you remember the stupid fucker refused to wear goggles or a mask. You turn to him, panicking, immediately putting the plant back on lock and dragging him over to the sink to wash out his eyes.
You’re mildly taken by surprise when he stares at you, his pupils dilated, a strange smile on his face, and question, taking off your gear, “Ettore? What is it?”
His eyes move along your figure, lingering on your thighs, your chest, your hips. You roll your eyes at the little hum he lets out. He continues staring at you, eyes glazed over with lust.
“Why the fuck are you looking at me like that?” you question, turning away from him and moving to leave.
You let out a quiet yelp, taken aback when he grabs you, pushing you up against the table. His lips move toward your neck. And you realize in that moment that something must have been in the substance the plant secreted on him. You wrench yourself out of Ettore’s grip and break into a run, nearly making it to the door when Ettore tackles you to the ground. He pins you to the floor, staring down at you with those shark-like eyes that somehow seem even more terrifying right now than usual.
“Just let it happen,” he says, a smirk forming on his face, “I know you want this as much as I do.”
“Get the fuck off of me, freak,” you growl, squirming against him.
The truth is? Ettore’s been thinking about this for a long time. He can’t count how many times he’s snuck into your quarters at night, touched himself standing over your bed, imagining how you’d feel as he fucks you. The pollen just gave him the tiny nudge over the edge that he needed. This is who he is, after all.
His lips move to your neck, biting down on your skin, rolling his hips against yours, “I’m just doing what the plant wants me to do.”
Your eyes widen, “What?”
Ettore nods, his strength increased by exposure to the pollen, pinning your arms over your head, literally ripping the clothes from your body. You wince slightly and try to turn your face away when he lowers his pants just enough to free his cock, already hard, leaking pre-cum at the tip.
“It wants me to breed you,” he murmurs darkly, “And I have to do what it wants.”
You try to pull away only to whimper slightly at the way it feels when he rubs the head of his cock against your cunt.
“I think you want it too,” Ettore chuckles, “Judging by how wet your little pussy is.”
You wince at his words, knowing he’s right. You hate yourself for it but you’ve always found Ettore to be attractive. It’s likely the reason you’re so hostile to him. But all rational thought is gone from your mind when you feel his cock pushing against you, bullying against your walls. He lets out a low groan as he sheathes himself fully inside you, reveling in the feeling of your cunt squeezing around him so perfectly.
“Fucking perfect,” he growls in your ear as he begins rutting against you, one hand holding your wrists in place while the other moves to your throat, squeezing just enough to restrict your airflow.
Your eyes roll back as you feel him moving in and out of you, every vein of his cock against you, the head hitting your sweet spot repeatedly as he moves at a near inhuman speed. And true to his word, after you reach your climax, he spills himself inside you. You wait for him to move away or pull out, but he doesn’t.
“It wants me to keep going,” he says, smiling wickedly, “Not done with you yet.”
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onedayimgonnasnap · 1 year
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New Years Eve Hunt
Saeyoung/707 X reader
Warnings?: None. Just 707, I love him sm.
Your boyfriend Saeyoung sent you away to go for new years but make sure to come home at 10, he said he wanted to be alone before 11.
Strange indeed. What is that geeky bitch doing at this time? You walked back 10 minutes before 11 hit.
Clearly something was not right. You basically ran 20 minutes back home, which was ok since you basically took martial arts and carried around pepper spray. You are a lot more athletic than Saeyoung.
Running up the apartment building took a lot of effort especially with all the stairs going up the apartment complex.
You were too busy to notice how your lungs were on fire, all you can think of was fear that the apartment was on fire or something.
40 minutes left before midnight.
Immediately getting on the front door you’re greeted by a note. . .
“Lolol I changed the key, try the area in the pool in our special locker.”
A certain rage fell upon you. When you find that mother fucker, you are gonna kill him.
Immediately running back downstairs into the pool doors. The door was locked. Oh? So he wants to play games? You’ll show him games alright.
Immediately you busted the pool knob out of the sheer force of anger and no actual security, you walk into the locker room where you go and open your locker with the code.
There is the damn key…
30 more minutes.
With rage you start running to the elevator kicking down a child to get to your destination.
.
.
.
WHY IS IT TAKING SO LONG?
“Well, well, well my love” That damn voice you heard in the Elevator speaker.
“I see you finally got the key” He laughed viciously.
“SAEYOUNG ISTG-“
Suddenly an alarm in the elevator started beeping.
Oh hell no.
“I’m sorry the elevator has crashed, please wait patiently.”
“Saeyoung Choi-“
“Hehe now you will never come to our apartment.”
He laughed through the microphone.
15 more minutes… shit.
That’s it..
You immediately stood on the elevator railing and decided to use your nail to take out the drills. Ineffective but it worked wonders.
You were gonna crawl into the vents.
Immediately stepping in you decided to crawl out through the nearest hallway so you popped right out and started running up the stairs once again to your apartment.
10 more minutes.
As soon as you got up to the last floor there was a major problem. When did this become home alone?
There were multiple miniature robots running at you, “GOD DAMMIT”
You soon started to run and tried to jump over all of them. It must have taken ages for him to pull something off like this, only Saeran would’ve helped him with this type of crap.
You immediately hurried up to the door, only 5 more minutes left.
However once you opened the door you were greeted by water squirting at your face and an immediate familiar psychotic laugh
You were gonna kill him.
He was however wearing one of those bank robbing masks.
“Saeyoung?” You asked tilting your head.
“No it is I an amazing kidnapper who locked your boyfriend in a closet and only you have to defeat me the final bo-
“OUCH.”
You kicked him in the gut hard.
As Saeyoung was groaning on the floor in pain, you looked up and around to see balloons, your favorite desserts, and a bunch of photos of you and him. Even a bunch of your favorite scented candles.
Basically the room was themed.
Oh.
“Saeyoung you stupid dork.”
You kicked him harder while he was on the floor.
You leaned down to put his arm around behind his back,
“OW. MERCY, MERCY, MERCY-“
He called out in tears.
“Listen here you bitch. You’re gonna fix everything around the apartment complex 10 minutes after midnight then you’ll treat me like royalty. Understood?” You pulled on his arm harder.
“OK I'M SORRY. I SORRY HAVE MERCY.”
You released him and got off him,
You both immediately heard people outside counting however…
“5”
“4”
“3”
“2”
“1”
You were immediately pulled into a kiss by this dork.
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Question: is it legal to murder your US History teacher
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radioduo · 3 years
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roses and riots: chapter 1
i could count the stars (wait until the dawn
notes: apoc au ^-^ this has been in the works for a while, so hope u guys enjoy! thanks to @b1rdza for the title and the letting me plan things w them :}
tws: blood, injury, violence, talks of death and zombies
Ranboo stared at his phone, slightly cracked and looking worse for wear, reminiscing over the photo on his lock screen. A picture from two months ago of him, Tubbo, and Tommy beaming at the camera. Ranboo returned the smile. Probably a picture Wilbur took on their moving day.
Two months ago, Tommy, Tubbo, and Ranboo began living together. Two months ago was the last time everything was normal.
Ranboo leaned against the wall of the now crumbling apartment and laid his head back against the foggy windows with a sigh. He could hear Tubbo in the other room quietly singing a cheerful tune and fiddling with some new gadget on his own. Tommy still wasn’t home from the scouting trip he had left for hours ago, and as the minutes ticked by, more and more anxiety gnawed at Ranboo's stomach.
Speak of the devil, Ranboo thought to himself as the communicator next to him began to buzz. It was Tommy, unsurprisingly. Ranboo gingerly set the phone down and picked up the other device. “Hello?”
“RANBOO, GET - krzzkr - HERE, THERE’S - skrzzkz - FUCKING HORDE HEADING OUR - krzzssz - HELP-”
Ranboo flinched and held the speaker away from his ear as he sprang to his feet. “Oh god, alright. Hold on, Tommy, I’m getting Tubbo and we’re going. Where are you?” He pulled on his boots and grabbed the musty red rucksack that hung next to the door.
“WEST- kzzszrt - NEAR THE DINER-”
“Just stay calm, Tommy, find a hiding place, you know the drill,” he knocked on Tubbo’s door urgently, but there was no response. "Are you k- whatever," Ranboo threw open the door, muttering to himself. Tubbo yelped in surprise as the door swung open, flinging his arm out and knocking his project onto the carpet. “We’ve gotta go,”
Tubbo took a deep breath and raised an eyebrow. “What’s up, bossman?”
Ranboo began to explain, but Tommy seemed eager to take matters into his own hands.
“TUBBO, THEY’RE FUCKIN’ AFTER - skrzztz - YOUR HELP RIGHT NOW, GET YOUR ASSES DOWN HERE - kryzztz - TO GOD I WON’T FORGIVE YOU IF I DIE,” he yelled through the radio. Tommy was breathing heavily, and Ranboo and Tubbo could hear quick, heavy footsteps pounding against the pavement.
“Oh fuck, okay, we’re coming, Tommy!” Tubbo grabbed his yellow bag from the foot of his mattress, abandoning his gadget and nearly knocking over his trash can full of failed prototypes. “Where is he?” he asked Ranboo, straining as he tugged his shoes over his heels.
“West Elm, near the diner,” Ranboo said as he pulled his mask over his face, leading Tubbo into the kitchen and grabbing his crowbar from the counter. “We’re on our way, just stay hidden and stay put.” Ranboo ended the transmission before Tommy could keep shouting at him and pulled open the door. “Let’s go, Tubbo,”
Tubbo hoisted his bat over his shoulder and tugged his goggles over his eyes. Wordlessly, the duo slunk out from the crumbling apartment building and down the street.
Nothing new, Ranboo noticed as the two speed-walked around the dilapidated city. Broken glass lined the pavement in front of shopping outlets, rotting wooden planks covered doors and windows, and the smell of flesh and blood filled the air around them, pungent and nauseating. The acrid scent slithered through the mask over Ranboo's nose and snaked into his nostrils, and he fought back the urge to heave as he swallowed the bile rising in his throat.
Rapidly rounding a corner, Ranboo tore his eyes away from the city scenery, stifling a gasp of surprise as he and Tubbo found themselves face to face with a gathering of the undead.
With bulging eyes and mouths lined with yellowed, broken teeth, the pack shuffled down the debris-covered road in the opposite direction, still oblivious to Ranboo and Tubbo's appearance. They seemed too busy tracking something out of sight to pay attention to the smell of fresh, unspilled blood nearby. Unfortunately, Ranboo realized with a sinking feeling in his stomach, the thing they must have been searching for was Tommy, and to find him, he and Tubbo would have to make it through the horde of the starving dead.
Tubbo stared ahead at the mob, a sour expression painting his face. "Don't tell me-"
"We have to, Tubbo. Unless you want to leave Tommy to die over there."
"I'm gonna be honest bossman, that sounds pretty fuckin' appealing right now," Tubbo replied dryly.
"I really hope you're joking," Ranboo answered. "C'mon," he urged, gripping the crowbar in his gloved hands, and charged forward like a bull.
The zombies, luckily for Ranboo, moved slowly, giving him time to react between attacks. He swiped nimbly with his left hand, slamming the metal bar into the face of a corpse, taking its head off with a satisfying crunch. Ranboo heard a grunt next to his ear and rolled out of the way right as an undead creature swung at him, nearly grabbing his arm and pulling him back. He brought the crowbar down into the skull of his attacker and looked away as the creature made a strangled sound in the back of its throat. Bobbing and weaving through the sea of the undead, Ranboo slammed the crowbar into every shambling body he could reach, over and over again. He yelped as he suddenly felt something grab his arm, sending a wave of pain up his arm from the iron-like grip. He wrenched his hand away frantically and stabbed the crowbar into the zombie's eyes. Breathing heavily, he scrambled away from the horde and into the clear at last. Ranboo gripped his sore arm and anxiously looked over the sea of corpses. Tubbo hadn't come out of the mob yet, and Ranboo's stomach twisted with fear at the thought of something happening to him.
A loud smack came from somewhere inside the cluster of bodies, and at last, Tubbo appeared, waving his bloodstained baseball bat like a madman and shouting a string of curses at the undead hands grabbing at his clothes. He ran to Ranboo's side, gasping for air. "Don't ever fucking make me do that again, okay?"
Ranboo grinned, relieved that he seemed unharmed. "Alright, alright, whatever," he said, flicking a drop of blood from his face. "We have to keep moving or they'll catch up with us."
----------
Tubbo and Ranboo slid open the diner door silently, stepping over the upturned chairs and tables as they walked into the abandoned building. "Tommy?" Tubbo whispered. "Are you in here?"
"Tubbo?" A voice answered. A head of curly blond hair popped up from behind the counter, and an unmistakable look of relief swept over Tommy's face when he caught sight of the two. "Thank fuck," he muttered, breathing a sigh of relief and dragging himself to his feet, hauling his backpack with him. "I wasn't sure how much longer I'd last." Crawling out from behind the counter, Tommy pulled his green bandana down from over his mouth again and faced the duo. "How'd you get through that giant fuckin' mob back there?"
Ranboo and Tubbo held up their crowbar and bat, respectively. "We managed," Tubbo said with a shrug. "That's beside the point though, why have you been gone so long? You were supposed to be back, like, two hours ago!" The three inched towards the door as Tubbo talked, slipping back into the streets and booking it in the opposite direction they came from.
Tommy huffed, trying to keep up with his friends. "Other than those dickheads back there keeping me away, I stopped by Phil's place for a bit to get us some food," he explained through deep breaths. "We haven't been able to get out much, thought it'd help." He held up his lumpy bag, obviously full of cans and boxes.
"Tommy, you know carrying food long distances is dangerous," Ranboo huffed, pulling ahead of the group as they rounded a corner. "Those things can smell just about everything, what made you think that was even slightly a good idea?"
Tommy made an indignant scoffing noise in the back of his throat. "Well, ex-CUSE me, Boob Boy, for wanting to help out you and Tubbo. That's my bad," he said, placing unnecessary emphasis on the last two words.
Ranboo rolled his eyes with faux annoyance as the three of them kept walking. "How many times have I told you to stop calling me that?"
"Not enough clearly," Tubbo answered, amusement obvious in his tone.
"Oh my god-" A hand flew over his mouth as Tommy suddenly took a sharp turn and flattened him against the bricks of a rundown building. Ranboo bit back a pained grunt as his aching arm hit the bricks. "I can hear those fuckers nearby," he removed his palm from Ranboo's masked mouth, and the three of them pressed their backs against the crumbling wall. "Is there another way we can take?"
He pressed his lips into a thin line, eyes darting back and forth as he strained his ears to listen for the familiar groans of the undead. "There are only a few that won't take us, like, two hours," he whispered. "Most roads loop around the city, and-"
"-and there's no way in hell that we'd make it back alive if we travel in the dark," Tubbo finished bleakly. He stared at the ground, lost in thought as though he were hoping the answer would write itself on the sidewalk. "So what now? Just stay here and wait until the morning? Surely not," he looked up at the other two. "I mean, that's a death wish right there,"
Ranboo and Tommy nodded silently. "I guess there's always Phil's place, but that's a couple dozen blocks down the road," Ranboo suggested, glancing up at the sky. It was only marginally darker than when they'd left, but Ranboo knew the light wouldn't last for much longer - especially not with the luck they'd been having. He absently rubbed his sore arm, careful to keep something from hitting it again. "We'd have to leave now to be there before dark,"
"Don't tell me we have to fuckin' walk even more," Tommy griped loudly. "I just got back from his place, are you sure there isn't a faster way home?"
"We can leave you here with the horde, if that's what you prefer," Tubbo retorted. Slinging his yellow bag over one arm and hoisting his worn baseball bat over the other, he dashed down the street, calling to Tommy over his shoulder, "Hurry up, dickhead!"
"Tubbo, wait-!" Tommy shouted back as he and Ranboo followed suit, jogging down the sidewalk behind Tubbo to the safety of their friend's home.
It was nearly dark by the time the three came to the pale blue house. It sat on the city outskirts, barely safer than the houses on the inside but at least ten times cozier. Tommy rapped on the door raucously, and Ranboo and Tubbo cringed as the sound echoed, definitely alerting the nearby zombies to their presence.
They didn't have time to worry about that, thankfully, as Phil greeted them at the door, looking relieved. "You guys scared the shit out of me," he breathed as he ushered the three teens inside. "You can't just be out wandering and knocking on strangers' doors,"
"Phil, if you were a stranger, this would be very awkward right now," Ranboo said, kicking his boots off and shoving them in the corner.
"I'm- oh my god, you know what I mean," he replied exasperatedly. "Be careful out there, is all. I don't know what I'd do if you guys got hurt."
Silence fell over the group as they heard the subtext of Phil's words. 'If you guys got hurt again.' Ranboo peered over at Tubbo, whose hand had subconsciously drifted up to trace the burn scars that outlined his face. Ranboo's own hand had floated up to touch his bruised arm carefully. He wouldn't tell Phil about it. Not yet.
Coughing, Ranboo broke the silence as he drew his hand away from his injury and undid the clasp on his cloak. "Welp, uh, I'm gonna sit down if anyone else wants to come," he invited, plopping the heavy fabric in a pile with the rest of his things and wandering into the living room.
The fireplace was burning, and Wilbur laid next to the orange flames, half-lidded eyes staring sleepily at the ceiling. He blinked and sat up as Ranboo entered the room, still alone as Tubbo and Tommy followed Phil into the kitchen, discussing something Ranboo couldn't quite hear. "Hey, Rhombus," Wilbur smiled, holding back a yawn. "How goes it?" His eyes darted briefly to the yellow sweater Ranboo wore.
Ranboo shrugged, removing his mask and catching the brief smile that flickered across Wilbur's face. "Could be better, I suppose," he replied.
"I think you said that last time," Wilbur noted.
"Yeah, well, it's been hard to be great recently," Ranboo said, barely audible.
Wilbur nodded sagely nonetheless, shuffling away from the fire to sit on the carpet in front of the couch. "You're not wrong," he agreed. There was a moment of silence as Wilbur looked up at Ranboo, who sat stiffly on the sofa, clutching his arm lightly and staring blankly into the fire. "You all good?"
"Y-yeah, I'm fine," Ranboo answered, blinking himself out of his stupor and brushing a strand of hair from his eyes. "Just- pain is all. Nothing a little sleep can't fix," he insisted. Ranboo could see the doubt in Wilbur's eyes, and it made his stomach churn. He wasn't sure why. "I'm alright, seriously," he repeated. "I'd let you know if I wasn't, you know that."
"Right." Disbelief laced Wilbur's words, but he didn't pry, nor did Ranboo want to offer an explanation.
Wilbur opened his mouth to say something else, but he didn't get the chance as Tubbo peeped his head into the room. "Dinner's ready big man, if you're interested," he said, jabbing a thumb behind him towards the kitchen, the comforting smell of potato soup wafting through the house. "You too, Wilbur, I guess," he snickered.
Ignoring the lighthearted banter between the other two, Ranboo inhaled deeply, savoring the scent. It smelt like home, he thought, a small smile painting his face. Wordlessly, Ranboo padded through the doorway into the kitchen, where Techno, Tommy, and Phil sat around the table waiting.
"There you are," Techno greeted him, reaching for the soup spoon. "We were starvin' to death in here, c'mon man," he joked.
Ranboo huffed a laugh through his nose. "Sorry about that," he apologized, running a hand through his hair. "Been a long day." He caught Tubbo's eye, who agreed with a slight head nod.
"It's alright, mate," Phil assured him. He held the bowls as Techno ladled soup into them carefully. "We get it." Phil handed him a bowl, steaming and cozy, and Ranboo gratefully accepted. "Just hang out for a while, alright?"
The six of them sat around the small kitchen table, eating together and listening to the radio as songs old and new alike filled the air. Tubbo and Wilbur sang duets, and Techno and Tommy made increasingly strange parodies as Phil and Ranboo watched with amusement.
Tommy and Techno were mid-song about Phil when the music suddenly stopped, harsh static cutting through the joyful atmosphere like a knife.
"WE INTERRUPT YOUR PROGRAM FOR AN EMERGENCY ANNOUNCEMENT," the prerecorded sample recited. "ATTENTION, ALL CITIZENS OF NEW LENSLING COUNTY: A MANDATORY EVACUATION IS BEGINNING TOMORROW AT 11 AM. ALL PERSONS LIVING IN THE CITY MUST RELOCATE BEFORE THE END OF THE WEEK."
The once bright mood at the dinner table quickly sank, dread and icy cold fear replacing the warm feeling of family and safety.
"What the fuck?" Tommy murmured, turning the radio volume up to the max.
"COUNTY OFFICIALS WILL BE INSPECTING HOMES TO ENSURE THAT EVERYONE HAS EVACUATED. SAFE CITIES ARE AS FOLLOWS: ATTSTONE, WORWICKE, LANGSTEDSHIRE, SHANTOWSEA, AND SOUTH BIRBED. FURTHER QUESTIONS WILL BE ANSWERED AT-"
Wilbur turned off the radio with a harsh slam. "Great," he growled. "What the fuck do we do now? Surely they don't expect us to just be happy with this!"
"All our shit is still at home!" Tubbo added, agitated. "There's no way we have time to grab it tonight, and it'll take ages to get back to the apartment in the morning!" He grumbled. "This is bullshit!"
"Calm down, you two," Phil cut in, trying to curb the anger bubbling in the air. "We'll figure something out, okay?"
Tubbo and Wilbur had the same disgruntled look in their eyes, jaws set and eyes shadowed. "Fine," Tubbo muttered, standing up to look at Phil. "Tell us then, what's the plan? Do you even know what's going to happen to us?"
"Tubbo," Ranboo warned. "Calm down. We're all figuring it out as a group."
Tubbo folded his arms and sat heavily in his chair, still irritated.
Techno was already rifling through his things for a map of the county. "The safe zones were all cities nearby," he said, seemingly to himself. He rolled a thin map out over the table, careful to avoid the drops of soup. "Attstone, Worwicke, et cetera. The closest one to us would be-"
"South Birbed, innit?" Tommy finished, shoving his now-empty soup bowl out of the way to lean over the table. "It's 'bout a week-long trip on foot," he explained. "We could be there in no time if all of us leave first thing in the morning,"
"Hold on, Tommy," Techno stopped him as Tommy took a breath to say something else. "One of us needs to stay behind and let someone know where we're goin', right Phil?"
"They need to send a message to all the safe zones to tell 'em how many people to prepare for," Phil confirmed. "I'll stay behind, tell whoever may stop by that the six of us are heading south, yeah?"
Ranboo and the other four shared a look of hesitance, none of them quite sure how to respond. "I don't want to leave you behind, Phil," Ranboo admitted. "Are you 100 percent sure you'll be alright on your own?"
Phil waved a hand dismissively. "You don't have to worry about me, mate. I'll catch up with you all in no time."
Phil's promise sent a wave of relief around the room. Wilbur and Tubbo looked more at ease, and Ranboo, Techno, and Tommy all breathed a sigh. "We should probably pack up our shit, I guess." Tommy rose to his feet, stretching and yawning. "Early start tomorrow, aye?"
They all stood, some more hesitant than others, and dispersed to their respective sleeping quarters. Tommy, Tubbo, and Ranboo trekked upstairs single file, carrying their bags, weapons, and everything in between into the large bedroom silently. It wasn't like they hadn't done this same thing before, but something about knowing it might be the last time for a while made the mood feel more somber than usual.
Tommy flopped onto the large, pillowy mattress with a sigh. "I can't believe we're being fuckin' kicked out," he muttered crossly, a change in mood from the upbeat leader persona he'd put on downstairs (probably to prove himself to the adults). "And to South Birbed of all places!"
Ranboo snorted, his eyes crinkling up with laughter. "What did South Birbed ever do to you?" He asked, watching as Tubbo crawled onto the bed next to Tommy.
"I dunno, it just seems like a shit city," Tommy shrugged.
Tubbo smacked him with a pillow, and Tommy yelped in protest, shouting a string of curse words at his assailer. "Mercy, mercy!" Tommy begged as he and Tubbo began a pillow fight.
Ranboo looked on with mild intrigue but didn't join the party. Instead, he slipped away from the other two into the bathroom and shut the door.
He pried his gloves off his hands and rinsed his face, desperate to clean the dirt and grime from his forehead and fingers. Ranboo stared at himself in the mirror, watching beads of water run down his face. He looked like a mess, he thought briefly, before drying the water with a towel. He winced, feeling a shock of pain flow up his arm as he blotted the water with the scratchy cloth. Deftly, he rolled up his sweater sleeve to examine his arm.
A little bit of broken skin, Ranboo noticed. He caught sight of a few small indents, which he assumed were from fingernails digging into his arm when the zombie had grabbed him. He made a mental note to keep checking the wound before it got infected and rolled his sleeve down again.
With a newly clear head, he reentered the bedroom quietly. Tommy and Tubbo had already claimed the bed, he noted, as the two laid on either half of the mattress, Tommy's head and Tubbo's feet on one end and the other way around at the foot of the bed. Ranboo sighed as he realized he'd have to sleep on the floor. Swiftly, he snagged a pillow from the bed, careful not to wake the already-snoring Tubbo, and dragged a throw blanket from a basket to sleep beneath. Begrudgingly, he laid on his makeshift bed, staring at the ceiling.
He had never noticed it before, but shining overhead was a galaxy of artificial stars, blinking and twinkling. The question of "why" briefly crossed Ranboo's mind as he stared at the bright little shapes above him. It made sense, he supposed, since the room belonged to Wilbur years before he, Tommy, or Tubbo ever stayed there. Still, he thought, it was surprising that Phil had kept them up there after all this time. Maybe he wanted to keep a little piece of the good times with him.
Ranboo felt a pit form in his stomach as he thought about the future (or possible lack thereof). The uncertainty made his stomach churn as he yawned, eyelids drooping. Thoughts of traveling and an image of the artificial galaxy were fresh in his mind as he rolled over that night, shutting his eyes and letting the darkness of sleep wash over him at last.
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Can You Get Enough Of Me? - Michael Myers x Reader
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"It's a nice day today, huh?" Y/N smiled up at the sky as she went back and forth in the swing. "Will you push me, Mickey?" "Sure." he shrugged as he got off his own swing and went behind her, pushing her the best he could. "Look, Mickey, I'm flying! Whooooo!" the little girl giggled without a care in the world, as Michael watched her long, beautiful hair going everywhere. "Okay, okay, I wanna swing too!" but before the girl could take her time and stop swinging, a bunch of older boys came by and roughly grabbed the chains holding the swing, which in turn, made the girl fall off and get hurt. "Y/N!" Michael gasped as he ran to her side, helping her up, and seeing the blood seeping from one of her legs and arm. "Aww, Myers's got a giiirlfriend! Look at them, gonna fuck? Girl, don'tcha know, Myers's a faggot?" the gang hollered maliciously, and Y/N could only frown, despite the tears of pain from her injuries, and clinging on Michael for support, she got up and yelled at the boys. "Leave Michael alone, jerks! You're rude!" but instead of trying to fight them off, or go in a brawl, she grabbed her friend's arm and dragged him away from there, knowing that if he were to get in trouble again, he'd get some bad detention, and that's the last thing she'd want. Besides...Two kids couldn't possibly fight those guys. "Why didn't you let me fight them?! I could've taken them on!" the blond boy glared at his friend, who only rolled her eyes and sighed at his childishness. "No, you couldn't. Besides, if the teachers find out you got in trouble again, who knows what will happen? Come on, let's go to the fountain, I have to wipe off the blood." Y/N muttered, going on ahead to sit on the rocks by the fountain and took out her handkerchief from her little bag, dipping it in the water and carefully wiping away the red liquid streaming down her limbs, hissing from the pain here and there, but otherwise, staying completely silent. "I'm sorry..." the girl suddenly heard the blond boy mutter, barely audible. "Huh? What do you have to be sorry about, Mickey?" as her eyes widened from the shock, she leaned forward, raising his chin up with her finger. "...I couldn't protect you. I suck. I'm as bad as that fuckass says I am..." he sighed, gently pulling away her hand and looking away from her. "Look at what they did to you. Could've been much worse. And yet, you stood up for me, while I did nothing. I'm a horrible friend." his voice was pitiful, and it was obvious he hated his lack of strength. "First of all, you aren't just my friend. You're my BEST friend. Okay? And nothing in this world will change that. Got it? Okay. Second of all, we're still little and weak. That's how kids are. Trying to fight those guys is like trying to fight the forces of nature...You...You can't fight a hurricane, you know? And...Violence isn't the answer. I mean...Look at our parents. There's nothing good coming out of that...But someday! Someday we'll get older and stronger, and nobody will bully us anymore! It just...It takes a while...I guess." she threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly, trying to comfort him. "That's shit! They'll see, they'll ALL pay for it! Nobody will dare be fuckers with us anymore! And when I grow up, I will make sure everyone is nice to you." he was so revolted, but his anger gradually dissipated as he felt her warmth. "Please don't speak like that. Calm down, Mickey. Things are okay now. At least we have each other, and we will always have each other, don't forget that, okay?" she leaned her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes for a while, only to hear an aggressive male voice booming through the park which made the girl yelp and tremble in fear. "GET AWAY FROM THAT FREAK, Y/N! GET HERE RIGHT NOW!" her father yelled at her and she could only whimper silently, trying to stop herself from hyperventilating. "B-But daddy, Michael is not bad...! H-He tried to protect me from those mean boys from the playground!" she spoke meekly, slowly walking in front of her father, her head hung in fear, only for the man to burry his hand in
her hair, pulling on it roughly, making the girl yelp in pain. "Don't talk back to me, you stupid little bitch! You have no right to go against what I say while you're under MY roof, got it? Home, now." Michael couldn't even retaliate in any way, knowing that if he were to cause trouble for her, she would get in even more trouble, and that's the last thing he'd want...But why did it have to be her...?
He can take it, alright...But her...That's just not acceptable. She is small, and weak, and frail, and innocent...And there is nobody who can protect her.
Nobody but him...
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"Michael, Michael, are we going trick or treating today?" Y/N asked, skipping around him in her cutesy witch costume, while he was a boring clown. "I guess." he shrugged, pulling down his clown mask. "Come on, it's Halloween, Mickey! You love Halloween! It's your favourite holiday! And we get free candy! It's gonna be fuuun~!" she bumped him with her body, making him stumble a bit, before looking at her and groaning. "Fine, fine, we're going. I just have to tell my mum." he grabbed her wrist and dragged her to his house, but on the way, she stopped him. "Hey, how about we trick or treat all the houses on the way to yours? I mean, there's nothing bad in that, right? We're just going home! It's not even considered a detour!" Y/N grinned widely, her beautiful eyes sparkling with excitement. "...Okay, let's do that." as he said that, Michael took out his candy bag from his schoolbag and taking her hand, they went to all house from both sides of the street. "Trick or Treat!" they both exclaimed as the first grandma opened the door with a loving look on her face. "Ahh, my, my, how cute you two are! And what do we have here...A very adorable, magical witch! And...A funny clown! How lovely!" the woman clapped her hands together to her chest, admiring the two kids. "Ma'am, he's not just a clown, he is my jester! Isn't he so cute?" she threw her arms around his neck, slamming his face to hers as she grinned even wider, making the woman laugh at them. "Yees, yes, I understand! Here, darlings, you're so adorable, take all of these. Hope to see you two, cuties, next year as well! Have fun!" the grandma patted both their heads before going back to her home. "Wiiicked! Look how much candy we've got! My fave holiday is Christmas, but honestly, Halloween is a very close runner up! Our teeth will literally rot after this!" the girl giggled as she inspected each variety of candy in her bag, "I love it 'cause I can spare people." Michael shrugged simply, but he also munched on some candy corn. "Would you scare me, Mickey?" Y/N turned her face to his, her eyes widening with a glimmering, innocent curiosity. "...No. I wouldn't. But you're the only one, okay?! Everyone else, I'd scare!" he tried to sound scary and dangerous, but it only made the little girl giggle and kiss his cheek. "You're my hero! My handsome knight in shining armour, Mickey! Thank you for protecting me. You're the best." help his soul, he wasn't used to people saying good things about him... "...But I'm ugly...That's why I wear a mask so often..." he muttered, looking down at the ground. "No! That's so not true! You're very pretty, okay? I love your face! And you have the most gorgeous eyes in the world! And...And...And your hair is so lovely, I'm jealous! Please don't say bad things about yourself, Mickey, it makes me very upset." she pouted, hugging him tightly, and it was pretty clear neither of them wanted to let go. "You won't leave me, would you, Y/N?" Michael's low voice came out barely above a whisper, but it was the only time he ever allowed himself to show any kind of weakness or vulnerability. "Never. Some day, we will be together forever, okay?" she ruffled his hair playfully, which made his face flush softly. "Hey, actually...Here you go. This is yours now. This way, if you're ever lonely, you'll remember I'm always thinking of you, okay?" Y/N grinned sweetly at him as she took off her flower-charmed necklace and put in on him, hiding it under his costume, so nobody else could see it. "Mum gave this to me on my birthday, before she died. It means the world for me, and so do you. So...Don't forget that, okay? I hope you'd smile more, you have a very pretty smile." as she said that, she squished his chipmunk cheeks.
The boy said nothing - What was he supposed to do, anyway? He was overwhelmed entirely by the only person who makes him feel...Good? But he had to go home, and he already knew that home was hell, and by the time he went there, he knew he wouldn't actually be going trick or treating, as promised...And he'd have to let Y/N down again.
Stupid family.
With a very disappointed voice, he went outside of the house and told the girl that he can't go trick or treating with her, but instead of yelling or disappointment, she just smiled and hugged him.
"It's alright! There's always next year! And besides, we already kinda went trick or treating, right? Sweet dreams, Mickey! Take care!" she waved at him cheerfully and skipped back home.
But little did she know that would be the last Halloween they'd spend together, for that night, a massacre happened at his home, and deep down, Y/N knew.
She just...Knew.
It was Michael who created that blood bath. He couldn't take all that abuse anymore, and Y/N understood that well enough...And she hated herself for thinking this, but she knew she was selfish...
If Michael didn't kill his family, they'd still have been able to hang out daily, and laugh together, lick each other's wounds, and go trick or treating on Halloween...
But she had to be happy with visiting him at Smith's Grove institute weekly with his mum, and they'd chat, and talk, and try to get him out of the shell that he hid himself into...
And he wouldn't stop hiding his face behind his masks, every week, a new one, a new one, and a new one, each time, weirder and creepier and grotesque.
No matter what his mother told him, and no matter what Y/N told him...Michael didn't listen, and the more time he spent there, the less he spoke...Until he hasn't said a word to Y/N in at least two weeks. It made the poor girl tear up, fearing that he hated her, but at least he'd shake his head and clutch his shirt where the gifted necklace would be.
And she would understand.
His mother was confused, and the Dr. was confused as well, but Y/N wasn't, and she'd smile at him and wouldn't explain what happened. It was their little secret, and nobody would be able to be made aware of.
And then...After many weeks of visiting, Michael stuck again and killed a nurse, which led to his mother committing suicide, and since she had nobody to go with to visit him, the last thing she could do was send in letters weekly, hoping they will be given to him, but she had no way of knowing, since nobody wanted to tell her anything, and no reply came by.
Until she gave up writing, thinking that Michael actually hated her, and decided to go on with her life, and her father made her move away to another state to get better education.
15 years passed, and the now 27 year old Y/N was a University graduate who worked hard and was able to get her old home in Haddonfield...To think she'd finally be able to go there again, she never would have thought that.
But here she was, having found a nice, well-paying job, and she was pretty happy, albeit nostalgic, being again back...Home. By the time she returned, she had already learnt how to play the guitar too, so every Friday night, she'd sit on her porch and play a song, softly singing along, hoping not to disturb anyone.
"I was made for lovin' you baby, you were made for loving me..." she hummed, singing the song by Kiss as she looked up at the starry night with no care in the world.
It was a simple life, but it was good and peaceful - And she had quite a lot of money to do with as she pleases - What else could ask for?
"BREAKING NEWS! A psychiatric patient from Smith's Grove escaped just last night and -..." but Y/N didn't bother hearing the rest of it, because...Because... "Michael...!" she gasped, covering her mouth with both her hands from the shock, tears threatening to fall and she goes outside, looking around, left and right, down the street, hoping to see a glimpse of the blond boy she once held so dear to her heart.
And what a coincidence, tomorrow night was Halloween...Did he do it on purpose? Did he even remember the days they spent together? Or how special Halloween was for him? Did he still have that silly necklace with him? Did he ever read her letters?
So many questions that she was pretty sure she'll never get an answer to, and that thought alone killed her.
The next day, she dressed in her Kiss loose Tshirt, remembering how that was Michael's favourite band, and somewhere in her heart, she hoped to see him again, even just by a little bit. Even a glimpse at his beautiful blue eyes would be enough.
But she knew she was dreaming...
She went to work as usual, but she was so busy that she didn't realise she ended up overstaying and overworking herself until she left the place and realised it was already dark outside, and there were barely any children trick or treating - But hey, there still were a few - And Y/N couldn't help but smile and remember the cute witch and her loyal jester.
The good times...
As she hummed carefree and looked up at the starry sky, but then she heard a crack, and looking back...Nothing? Hmm...Suspicious... She continued walking, but the ominous feeling in the back of her head continued, and so, she took out her pocket mirror and noticed a man somewhere in the back, walking towards her. A colleague from work, she recognised him, yes, she remembers him. He was kicked out from the job because of his inappropriate behaviour...And him following her now truly was no good news.
Analysing the situation, she realised she was close enough to home to make a break for it, so taking a deep breath, she sprinted the hell out of there...But...things didn't go as expected.
Before she could even reach her home, for she was pushed to the ground and straddled, his hands immediately finding their way around her neck, trying to immobilise her, to stop her from struggling and let him have his way with her.
But Y/N was a fighter, and she didn't want to allow the bullying she experienced as a child to take over her adult life, but she also didn't have the body strength to go against this guy, no matter how much she tried to struggle.
However...Before she knew it, the man stopped - Almost as if he froze - And she was splattered with liquid. It was blood. The man above her was stabbed in the chest, then in the head continuously, before his body was snatched and tossed away like a ragdoll.
Great - Y/N thought - From one criminal to another, with a whimper, she tried to get up and run away, but the man was too fast for her, and he picked her up with a weird ease, getting her inside her own house and letting her fall down on her couch.
The man saw fear in her eyes, and she was whimpering, her head hung as she tried to make herself as small as possible - As if she wasn't already so small, especially compared to him - It was pissing him off, as he remembered her jackass father abusing her. He would never hurt her! He promised her he'd always protect her, so why is she so scared of him...?!
"E-Excuse me...Uhm...Mister...A-Are you...Maybe...Uhmm...Are you Michael...?" she stuttered in such a meek voice that it grated his brain. This isn't right, Y/N was cheerful and happy. This...This wasn't right... The man got a hand underneath the neck of his blouse, only to reveal the old flower necklace from long ago. "Michael...! It really is you...Michael...I can't believe it! Oh my God...You grew up so much, this is insane!" as if a switch turned inside her, the girl jumped on her couch and threw herself on the incredibly tall man, not caring whether he liked it or not.
He was her Michael, and she missed him.
"You still don't talk, do you? Well...At least take off this mask of yours. I told you, I hate it when you hide yourself from me. I want to see your beautiful face." she chuckled, pulling Michael down with her on the couch, as he stood with his hands mid-way in the air, rather awkwardly, before finally pulling up his old mask and threading with it with his hands that were laying on his lap. "There we go, as beautiful as ever." she chuckled softly as she parted his long, dirty blond hair and letting it fall down his back, so his face could properly be seen. "Oh my God, you even have a stubble. I can't believe it. Well, we are all grown up after all, aren't we? Seems like almost yesterday when we'd go trick or treating...On this very day." she kept talking of the nostalgic things from so long ago, so much that it made Michael grunt in amusement, but his face didn't sketch any emotion. It really upset Y/N, it felt like talking to a wall. "Well, at least I'm happy that you remember me. I didn't think you did. I kinda thought you hated me too, I didn't know if you got any of my letters either. Uhm...I don't really know what to say. It's weird talking to myself like that. But I'm happy to see you again." she continued speaking before stopping altogether and fidgeting awkwardly on her spot next to him, as he didn't even move, or bother saying a single word.
They stood like that for a while, until Michael suddenly started moving, and revealed a bunch of unopened letters - All from her.
"You have all of them...!" Y/N gasped in shock, taking the letters and examining all of them one by one. "Why didn't you open them?" but instead of an answer, he shook his head. "Did you...Not have them...Until recently?" Y/N tried to guess, and the answer came in the form of a nod. "That stupid doctor! How dare he?! ...You must have felt so lonely stuck there...With your mum shooting herself, I couldn't go there anymore, so I sent you letters weekly...The doctor promised to give them to you...Urgh, what a jerk. And I thought you hated me and that's why you didn't want to reply to them...But you just got them. How annoying." Y/N groaned, realising the truth of what happened, and she let the letters fall down on the coffee table.
After some more silence between the two, Michael pointed towards her shirt, and she smiled, nodding and taking her guitar before leaning on his side. "Yeah, I know it's your favourite band. I never forgot that." she chuckled, and as she started playing the same song she knew so well - And she felt a strong arm sneaking around her waist, pulling her closer to his body. It surprised her a bit, but she felt so safe and warm in his embrace.
"I was made for lovin' you baby, you were made for lovin' me. And I can't get enough of you, baby..." she sang in the same sweet, crystalline, soft voice that he loved so much, and missed over the many years they've been separated.
"...Can you get enough of me?"
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jschlattsbabydoll · 3 years
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Ocean Away Part 2 (Chishiya Shuntaro x Reader)
A/N: Hi! How are you? 
Sorry for the delays for part 2. But here you are 😊
I’m sorry if the story felt rushed, but I would be editing the story once it has been finished for a more detailed version of the story.
Thank you so much for the support for part 1. The notes on this one is amazing currently at 119 notes…. Thank you so much! Hopefully part 2 won’t disappoint.
And I want to tag @eggbutnotyolk and @kaiorik​ , Thank you for commenting and the support! <3
I won’t take so much of the space here.
Please enjoy part 2! :)
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“Far away, an ocean away. Where I won’t let you hurt me again.” – Loreen, Ocean Away.
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 “Don’t leave me.”
 “I won’t.”, You lied.
  Around 12 noon, you awoke from your bed. You around your room to see a note on the bedside cabinet,
“I will be meeting up with Kuina for just a bit.” – Chishiya. 
Then suddenly memories of last night came rushing back on your mind…
You’ll be leaving Chishiya.
Suddenly tears fell down your body, with the memories of last night, your talk with your uncles and after that with him… It was so fucked up on how much you doubt your plan right now. Is this how he can easily manipulate you into thinking things? 
Every night that you two have been together, his body is so warm that you love being with him, but the feelings he portrays, they lack emotions, it was so cold that she would give so much time and space. She would always wait for him to come to her instead.
The game that he plays is dangerous. He is willing to give up everything, even her.
*Flashback*
“Chishiya! Help me! I’m drowning!” you looked at the man you loved the most, he looked back with the coldest eyes that you have ever seen, then he took off.
You screamed loudly for his name, but he didn’t come back.
“Y/N!!!” you heard someone scream your name, hoping that it was Chishiya that he might just went and took some back up.
As you slowly went down, you felt someone pull you from the water, as you were place on land, you coughed hard and tears started to form from your eyes, it suddenly hurt to breathe in and out, but you needed to breathe.
You quickly look at the person who saved you. It was Arisu.
“Arisu…” You said as you slowly started to cry, you couldn’t even form any sentence right now with the outburst of feelings that you have inside, “I.. I thought… I… No…Chishiya… Why?” you tried to speak, as you looked into Arisu’s eyes for answers. You suddenly grabbed Arisu’s sleeves for support. You saw in his eyes that he was worried and pained with the panicked and crying form that you are in.
“Why?! Arisu… Arisu….? Chishiya… left me….”  You continue to break down, you let go of Arisu’s sleeve and you placed both hands on your face.
Arisu suddenly hugged you, “I’m sorry… This is all I could offer you.”
The sadness, dread, disappointment, and the pain are now mixing all in together. Now all you could think of is wishing that you died than suffering under Chishiya’s side.
 “why?” you said through tears with the only answer is pure silence.
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 “HATTER! HATTER! HATTER!” Everyone screamed and cheered their leader, who was leaving for a game with Aguni and you. Your uncle waved from the back seat and smiled at everybody for their immense support, 
While your Uncle Aguni drove the car, you sat on the passenger seat. While the car is slowly leaving the Beach’s premises. You through the crowd and saw him. 
He looked at you eye to eye, but you removed you eyes from his gaze. You didn’t want to leave him, but staying with him hurt a lot more. 
As your uncle Aguni drove off, you uncle Hatter looked at you, “don’t be sad, my child. I know that the beach has everything you need and can ever ask for this world. But, remember, if you need some space from the people within my walls, you can always go a different location.”
You nodded your head, “Thank you Uncle Hatter and Uncle Aguni.”
“Just a bit of wait. We’ll be out of this country and we can have our lives back.” Aguni said as he took a turn to the arena, a school building. 
“After this game, we will be driving you off to your hiding spot. It would be from the other side of Tokyo near Shibuya… We will keep track of you now and then. You will be joining games from the other side, just let us know what is going on, what games you played and what card you have received.” Hatter has explained, “And just to completely hide your identity from other players, you might need to change your hair color or maybe let you wear a mask.” 
“Anyways, the place that we have chosen is near a mall, but we would still be providing for you as promised once we visit you again.” Aguni added,
“Noted.” You answered, as you got out of the car. You opened the car door for you uncle and helped him out, “Uncle Hatter, having a hard time getting out of the car?”
“I’m almost at my 30’s dear. I’m getting old.” He joked, “Wish I could go back to the simpler days.”
You smiled, “30 is not old uncle. Besides, you are still so full of life.”
As your Uncle Aguni got out of the car, “By the way… I followed your plan.” He said while looking at Hatter, “As dangerous as it sounds, but I told Niragi about the plan.”
Niragi wasn’t a good person. You’ve had some issues with Niragi and his awful behavior. Your uncle Aguni has explained and made it very clear with Niragi that you cannot be touched by him in anyway. You two had a very civil talk once after a game where you saved him from being mauled by a tiger, because he lost bullets from his riffle.
He became honest with his feelings that he didn’t thought that someone would save him.
Later he opened up being bullied in class, being thrown by rocks and there is a point system in it. You would always remember his glasses were 50 points and his crotch area is 100 points. He didn’t have any friends at all and even if people would see him being beaten up, no one came to his aid.
 “I know that you don’t see me as your friend. But hiding from a sadistic silhouette won’t give you happiness. Yes, people are afraid of you, but that doesn’t ease the pain. I know, what they have done in the real world is wrong and un humane. But in the end of the day, you’re just human. We all have scars. And if you keep that inside, you’ll go insane… Actually, you are already. But, don’t go down further, Niragi. If you want someone to let out your outburst inside, I’m here.” 
“Why do you…. Why are you so nice?” he asked,
“I don’t know. But it’s all I can give right now. You deserve it, even if you think you don’t.”
 You kept his secrets, he’s still a douchebag with others after your encounter with him, but he became nice to you ever since. 
Chishiya didn’t like the closeness between you and Niragi. Sometimes, he would interrupt a conversation between you and Niragi.
“Y/n… “ Chishiya said, intervening the conversation you have with Niragi, “Let’s go.” Extending his hands to hold your hand, 
“Interrupting again? You make me angry, Chishiya. “, Niragi said with full annoyance, “Jealous, because your girlfriend is so fond of me?”
“hm….” Chishiya smirked, “I trust her that she won’t fall for someone who’s dumb witted as you.”
Things escalated very quickly, with Niragi pointing his riffle towards Chishiya’s head and Chishiya with his knife on Niragi’s neck,
“I’ll blow your head up, you fucker!” Niragi angrily said,
“Not if I slit your fucking throat.”
“STOP! STOP WHAT YOU ARE DOING!” You screamed, “Stop acting so fucking childish!”
They came to their senses and placed down their weapons, Niragi huffed with annoyance, he would have killed Chishiya if you didn’t stop him.
“I’ll go with Chishiya.” You looked towards Niragi, “I’m sorry Niragi. But I’ll talk again with you, okay? “
“Okay.” Niragi said in defeat. You touched his cheeks as a form of goodbye and then you left with Chishiya.
“Niragi knows about the plan?” you asked, looking through your uncle Hatter’s eyes,
“Yes. He’s like a back up that we have. He seems so fond of you, If ever that we can’t go towards your location due to meetings or maybe emergencies, we can secretly asked Niragi’s help.”
“Oh, at least… I have someone to talk to…” you said within you mind,
You started to walk with uncle to face the game that you will be all joining.
Hopefully, no one dies during this game.
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~Time Skip~
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 You three finished the game and was granted 6 days of visa. You all drove off near Shibuya, and they have sent you to your new location. It was a hotel, it was two blocks away from a mall, which can give you supplies for your stay here. 
You Uncle Aguni has handed you a walkie talkie, and tested it with his, Hatter and one of the Walkie for Niragi.
“You sure, you’ll be okay without us, dear?” Hatter asked once more,
You smiled, “Yes… I will be. I can talk to you any time with these walkie talkies. And If ever I’ll just give you a beep.” Then you hugged your uncle Hatter and then your Uncle Aguni.
“I know that you’re just keeping quiet, but you’ll miss me too, Uncle Aguni.” You teased, he smirked,
“Don’t get too cocky…” He said, but then he patted you gently on the head, “I would miss you…Just be careful here kid.”
“I will.” You smiled, after a few minutes, they were gone… Leaving you all alone.
Tears started to fall from your eyes, “I’m sorry, Chishiya…”
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 Everyone cheered on as Hatter and Aguni arrived, they chanted their names.
They went to the balcony and then Hatter raised his hands to stop the noise from the crowd below him.
He removed his sunglasses and he acted devastated…with tears on his eyes, he opened his mouth to speak.
“Thank you… Thank you for being happy that Aguni and I have come safe and sound from the war that we have joined tonight…” he said then stopped, he was now hearing whispers asking on where you are.
“You might have noticed that when we left, we have brought our precious y/n… We have a terrible news to tell… A death of an executive has happened… the death of our sweet child, y/n…”
Everybody went silent shocked to hear that one of the best players have died.
“She sacrificed her life for us… But…” Hatter wiped his fake tears on his face, “We will not let her death go in vain… We promised that we would complete the cards and in the end; we will survive this country and get out of this soon on her behalf. We need you all to fulfill this promise for her not just for her but also for yourselves…”
Unknown to everybody, a person on the floor above the balcony has been watching the whole scene, Chishiya, who has heard the news, ran towards your room. Thinking that this might me a sick joke that Hatter has brought to everybody.
But he was greeted by an empty room.
He tried to search everywhere, but you were gone. 
He stopped looking for you and he went in front of your room door again.
He has mixed feeling about everything, he placed his hand to his chest. He felt a different kind of loneliness inside his chest.
“What would you do If I suddenly got lost or disappeared?” He remembers your question last night.
“This might be some sick joke…” he whispered to himself, “It’s impossible for you to die… not now.” As he was about to leave your door step, he saw Aguni walking towards him,
“Interesting.” He heard Aguni said while walking towards him, “what are you doing here?”
“I was just passing by.” Chishiya kept a straight face, “why did you let her die?”
Aguni smirked, “Caring now, Cheshire? It doesn’t suit you at all.”
“Hm.” Chishiya didn’t speak, but instead let Aguni walk by past him.
When Aguni was already 1 feet away from Chishiya, “Don’t fake it too much…  Isn’t this what you wanted? To see her dead? That’s why you left her in one of the games?”
Chishiya turned around to answer his question, but Aguni was gone.
 “Don’t leave me…”
 “Why?” Chishiya asked to nobody as he remembers you..
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[TBC]
430 notes · View notes
adarlingmess · 3 years
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Ugnayan
Summary:
Filipino word, noun: connection between persons, groups, countries, etc.
A collection of works detailing a manananggal clan’s relations with the Treses, and their allies.
II: Bad Habits
Summary: After disrupting one of House of Arko’s operations, one of the Kambal meets up with their informant.
Words: 4540
Characters: Basilio, Crispin, Sabina (OC), Alexandra Trese (mentioned only), Ammie (mentioned only), Reyna Manananggal (mentioned only), Dominic Villaceran (mentioned only), Mama Grande (mentioned only)
Relationships: Basilio/Original Female Character
Language: English, with a few Filipino words and phrases sprinkled in.
Rating: 16+
Warnings: Strong language, violence, mentions of abortion, references to human trafficking + sexual trafficking, sexual themes
Author’s Notes:
I am: back on my bullshit again
People were looking for a part 2 so have more Basilio x OC stuff. Spoiler warning for Verdugo: Takutan because this story heavily references its lore and events! The comics are known to be darker in tone, and so is this fic, so heed the warnings above. No Taglish version this time, Darling niyo pagod na 😩
This was supposed to be a simple job.
Get in, rough up House of Arko’s operation while Bossing is paying them a visit in their mansion, get out, and watch as Bossing confronts them about it at the next social gathering they’ll host.
But nothing was ever simple about the aswang, right?
Now there’s a huge one trying to eat Basilio alive.
“Damn it, Basilio. Your recklessness is a bad habit that’ll bite us in the ass later!” his older brother berates him.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever! Now might be the right time to call for backup kuya,” he strains, attempting to pull the  magubat’s jaw apart with his superhuman strength. His fingers slip from the drool and it almost bites his hands off.
Crispin’s busy with a horde of mailap, taking turns in taking pot shots from him in the shadows. “We should’ve taken a page from Carlos’ book and brought palm fronds. Who should we call?”
“What about Maliksi?” Basilio suggests.
“What’s one tikbalang to all these aswangs? We need something bigger, maybe a higante to take on that magubat!”
“Gago, a higante can’t get here as fast as a tikbalang!” Basilio snaps.
“Mas gago ka! What about that playmate of ours from when we were kids, y’know, the one that tipped Bossing off about this whole trafficking operation anyway? Think she can fly her way here?” Crispin growls, shooting down a mailap who was foolish enough to ambush the more cautious twin from above.
Ah, yes. Sabina.
Boyish, intimidating, hard to figure out- but still hot enough to flirt with, despite being aswang; that’s how Basilio would describe her. This Sab was a far cry from the Sabina Marie he once knew years ago, the one who used to wear an all-girl Catholic school uniform, shyly shared her snacks and books with him, and kissed him farewell when her mama told her she’ll not be coming with her to meetings with the lakan anymore.
A few days after they caught up with each other, she turned up at the Diabolical not too long ago with a flash drive for Alex’s eyes only. She didn’t even breathe a word to him, much less look at his direction, but Basilio could only surmise that it’s his fault.
“Sabina? Well, manananggals who follow the queen can shoot. It’s- ungh- worth the shot!” Basilio answers back, straining as he gets swatted to the side with one gigantic claw. “You make the call, my hands are full!”
“Give me your phone, I don’t have her Facespace.”
Basilio looks down from several feet, and gives his brother a sheepish smile. “Uhhh, okay, but she’s been seenzoning me.”
From behind his mask, Crispin frowns. “What did you do?”
“She might’ve seen me tagged in Ammie’s story when I was supposed to watch her gig. I got there when her set was ending, and she was pissed.”
Grumbling, Crispin takes his frustrations off on a mabangis charging towards him, a flurry of bullets raining upon its body. “What did Bossing say about getting personal with informants?”
“What? It’s Sab. She’s-”
“An aswang who might have an ulterior motive in helping us. Tangina Basilio, think with your head sometimes! The one between your shoulders!”
Distracted, Basilio failed to stop the jaws of the magubat from closing in on him. As quickly as his reflexes allow, he tosses his brother his phone.
“Just call already! Tell her it’s an emergency.”
The older Kambal flies up and extends his free hand to catch it. Crispin launches Basilio’s Facespace app and begins to search for their informant. He found her under the name Sab Evasco. Crispin pretended not to see the string of messages Basilio left for her, all left on read.
Her phone rings. One time. Two times. Three times. Crispin dials again. Twice. Thrice.
Someone picks up. He puts the call on the loudspeaker.
There’s someone strumming a guitar in the background, accompanied by a drumset’s cymbals. They come to a halt and Crispin hears a frustrated woman’s voice from the other end of the line.
“Ulol gago, fuck you Basilio, you can tell me if you’d rather go on Starbreaks coffee dates with a wind girl than watch me play.  I’m a grown woman, I can handle a simple ‘no’. I’m not in the mood for your games! Now fuck off, I don’t want to hear from you. I have a gig to practice for.”
Basilio cringes as he listens to Sabina’s tirade. Crispin guns a charging mabangis down, and his mask dematerializes for a brief moment, just enough for him to mouth to his brother “Gago ka talaga.”
“Sabina, it’s Crispin. We could use some backup here. We’re being swarmed by aswang.”
The sound of a guitar being unceremoniously dropped and the mad shuffle to catch it can be heard from Sabina’s line, followed by quick footsteps. Sabina talks again, calmer this time. “What? Couldn’t Basilio get his own ass on the phone and tell me himself?”
With an exasperated expression, Crispin turns on the camera, and points the phone at Basilio, who’s caught between the magubat’s jaws. “He said you were ignoring him, and he can’t get on the phone right now, as you can see.”
The Kambal heard her fumbling with more equipment, which sounded like a guitar case being zipped up and carried. A brief argument with her bandmates follows, then Sabina talks again.
“I’ll be there. Stay on the line.”
Now they wait.
As much as Crispin wanted to help his little brother, his hands were full with the wave after wave of aswang coming after them. They’re relentless. This is their food supply the Kambal are cutting off, after all.
“Any luck with Sab?” Basilio asks, attempting to shoot the roof of the mabangis’ mouth.
The bullets barely penetrate the thick membrane. He’ll need to transform the Armas Infinitum into a more powerful weapon to lobotomize the gigantic aswang, but seeing how he’s separated from his twin, it’s impossible at the moment.
“She said she’s on the way. She’s still on the phone. Here!”
Crispin throws the phone back to Basilio, who catches it with one hand, while his other arm continues to struggle with the magubat trying to swallow him whole. He tucks it in his breast pocket, and he jumps near the row of the magubat’s front teeth, prying it open with both arms.
Through the aswangs’ growls, Basilio could faintly hear a woman cursing and the jingling of keys from the other side of the line.
“Hey Sab! It’s Basilio. Sorry again about missing your gig.”
“Shut up and hang tight. If I didn’t care for you at all...” Sabina snaps. Basilio could barely make out the words Sabina was saying due to the wind and sound of traffic. “I’m on my way.”
“Ngh, can’t you come any sooner? I heard that aswang intestines are nasty.” Basilio pauses, realizing his mistake. “No offense.”
“I said zip it. Isn’t it enough that I went out of hiding and agreed to be Trese’s informant? Now I have to be your backup too?”
“Working with Bossing has its risks. We made that clear, princess.”
“Don’t call me that.”
There’s more turbulence and wind from Sabina’s line. If Basilio guessed, she’s now flying to the scene. The Kambal’s struggle with the aswang continued until they heard their informant’s voice through the speakers again.
“Big bad war demigods can’t handle a single fucking magubat?” Sabina deadpans, the turbulence and noise no longer accompanying her voice. “Open the fucker’s mouth wide. Make sure he’s facing east.”
“Kuya! She’s in the area, help me pry the jaws open!” the younger Kambal shouts to his older brother, who dodges a leaping mailap and quickly flies up to his aid.
“What’s the plan?” Crispin asks, and Basilio shrugs.
“I don’t know, she just asked me to do it!”
Before Crispin could question Basilio, a shot rings throughout the building, and the magubat collapses. The Kambal let go of the heavy jaws and flew away, watching the near-twenty foot aswang crush a few of its regular-sized kind. Upon closer inspection, a bullet has torn its way through the roof of its mouth. It’s a clean shot. The magubat isn’t regenerating, much to the Kambal’s surprise.
It’s a pleasant surprise, nonetheless.
“That’s for trying to eat my brother,” Crispin spits, kicking the dead aswang’s head.
Soon, more of the aswang started dropping like flies, too. Razed by bullets from an unknown assailant, the House of Arko aswangs started to panic.
“Wait a minute, I know manananggals who follow the queen can shoot, but Sabina is a sniper? Do you know about this, Bas?” Crispin exclaims, tearing his eyes away from the dead magubat to face yet another wave of mabangis.
“No! Damn, she’s using special bullets too. Where’d she get those?” Basilio mutters. A mailap attempts an ambush attack, and before he could react, Basilio watches it get shot mid-air as it attempts to jump him.
“You’re mine,” Sabina hisses, her voice crackling through Basilio’s phone speaker, smooth through the static.
Her emphasis on the word “mine” made goosebumps ripple through Basilio’s arm.
“Hot. Could you say that again?”
What he got instead was a groan. “Fuck, don’t distract me Basilio. I’m not here for fun.”
“You seem to be having fun shooting House of Arko’s minions though.”
“Fair. You two better look for the hostages. I have a bone to pick with this lot.”
The Kambal looks at each other, and nods. Glass shatters as they fly out the building’s windows, to the upper floors. After taking care of the guards, they saw them. Men and women in cages, all naked, and herded like livestock. 
“Please, help us,” one of them whimpers, crawling to the front of the cage and grabbing Crispin by the arm. She’s dirty, and her belly is swollen. Basilio turned on the lights and they saw it clear as day: most of these women are pregnant. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what was going on.
House of Arko farms their food, breeding humans like livestock, and harvesting fetuses from them.
Sirens are blaring outside, both from police cars and ambulances, waiting for the hostages to be rescued.
All is well, or so they thought.
“Fuck!”
The cry came from their informant’s line.
“Everything alright?” Basilio asks her after fishing his phone out of his breast pocket.
“There are a few of them who found my vantage point. They’re heading towards my position.”
“Get out of there already, the hostages are secure.”
“They saw me. I can’t let them report back to Mama Grande and her sons that a manananggal is helping you. Suspicion would fall on my clan.”
Crispin nudges his younger brother. “I’ll handle the hostages and wait for Bossing. You make sure our informant’s alright.”
“Way ahead of you kuya,” Basilio replies, taking his guns out and flying out the window.
Under the pale moonlight and the city’s lights, Basilio spots a group of aswang scaling a dilapidated building east of him. On the rooftop, he sees it. Wings black as night, flattened against the concrete. Sabina lies prone and is aiming her scoped hunting rifle downwards, picking off the advancing horde one by one.
“Time to play.” The demigod rushes in and makes bullets rain on the hostiles.
He takes out a mabangis approaching their sniper from her blind spot. Those who didn’t die from being shot fell to their death, regeneration halted either by his or Sabina’s doing.
Basilio descends on the rooftop, and he walks his way towards the manananggal. His mask dematerialized, and the wind tousled his long hair. Just to be safe, he kept a pistol in one hand.
Across him, Sabina takes out her wireless earbuds and puts them away. Then, she slings her rifle on her shoulder, safety on. With her wings, she crawled towards his direction, like how a bat would move. Then, uses her wings’ sharp claws to plant herself on the concrete, a feat regular bats couldn’t do.
“Thanks for the help, Sab. About that gig…”
Before any more words could come out of his mouth, Sabina holds up her forefinger and presses it against his lips. “Shh. No more apologizing about the missed gig. Just make up for it. You owe me.”
Basilio nods, smiling at her. He watches as Sabina fishes out a box of cigarettes and a lighter from her vest. She’s wearing a black, long-sleeved polo shirt underneath it, and its sleeves are rolled up. Her shirt was unbuttoned just enough for him to catch a glimpse of lace peeking through. For all her boyish, edgy posturing, her choice of underclothes is girlier than what Basilio expected.
It almost makes him want to unwrap her like a Christmas present, but he’ll keep that thought to himself.
“Nice outfit. You were rehearsing in that?”
“We had a presentation for a class. No time to get changed. Now there’s a hole in the back, so I might as well wear this more often on future operations,” Sabina replies, placing a stick of Marlborough Reds between her lips.
“I’m in the mood for a smoke and maybe a chat,” she continues. “Join me?”
Basilio nods.
“How did you know about House of Arko’s human trafficking thing, anway?”
“Believe it or not, it was a hunch,” Sabina explains, black fingernails scratching the sparkwheel several times. “Ugh, fucking lighter dying on me again. I just had it refilled… must be the wind,” she growls.
Basilio couldn’t help but chuckle at her frustration. “A hunch?”
“Hmm… maybe hunch isn’t the right word. It’s an educated guess. Mama Grande loved serving boiled fetuses to her house guests, correct?”
Basilio nods, waiting for Sabina to continue her explanation.
“I suppose that it’s my place to judge if their mothers didn’t want to raise them… I’m a manananggal, for fuck’s sake. But there’s one red flag House of Arko failed to hide. From what I can tell, those fetuses are around five to eight months old.”
Sabina’s lighter finally lit up, and with a triumphant laugh, she lit her cigarette. Then, she carries on with her explanation.
“Most abortions happen during the first three months of pregnancy. It’s rare to see expecting parents get rid of them that late.”
“So? What does that have to do with the whole thing?”
“House of Arko serving older fetuses could mean one of two things: either all, and I mean all of the abortions they performed are from those who are truly in need of one that late, or they’re getting them from another source, possibly an illicit one. They don’t have the most benevolent reputation, so my intuition tells me it was the latter. So, I paid the place a visit and recorded what I could. I guess I should be thankful that your bossing found that blurry video trustworthy enough,” Sabina concluded, watching as the victims were clothed and herded into ambulances.
Dumbfounded, Basilio scratches his head. “Wow. Glad you’re on our side. How did you know that three month thing anyway?”
“Research and personal accounts.” Sabina’s response is clipped. Cold. Abrupt. It only raised more questions than answers.
“Personal accounts? You’ve met people who got them?”
There’s a flash of regret in Sabina’s eyes; regret that she opened her mouth and let him know more than needed. She cuts him off. “I can’t put my informants’ identities in jeopardy either now, can I?”
Per his older twin’s advice, Basilio’s finally using the head between his shoulders. “No offense, but you’re a manananggal. Y’know, known for eating babies? Hearing that from you is suspicious.”
“Yes, I am,” Sabina says through gritted teeth, glaring at him. “I can assure you, I’m following the accords and I’m not exploiting loopholes like what House of Arko is doing. I’ll reveal everything in due time.”
“Alright, keep your secrets. For now.”
A tense silence has befallen them.
“So- '' the manananggal blows a cloud of smoke away from Basilio, “-is this going to be a regular thing? Because if it is, I might finally quit smoking. Nicotine makes my hands shaky. Can’t risk accidentally shooting your ass.” She pauses, looking at him in jest. “ I’d rather do that intentionally.”
“You’re breaking my heart, Sabina Marie,” Basilio retorts, clutching his chest in mock pain.
They share a laugh over it, the mood lightening up.
Basilio looks in the distance, taking in the view of the cityscape. “Maybe you should quit. Singers shouldn’t be smoking in the first place.”
“The tar helps me belt out raspy screams, but yeah, you’re right,” Sabina chuckles.
“So, when is this next gig?”
“Next week. In Ilocos Norte. All the way up in House of Arko’s ancestral home.”
“Should I take that info to Bossing?”
“Yep. It’s open to the supernatural public anyway, so it's not like I’m giving you top secret info. Even the wind tribe is invited, despite their bad blood with my clan. Hopefully things won’t get physical. Most of my sisters are still bitter over how they blew us away when my mom- I mean, Inang Reyna decided to side against the Treses.”
So that explains some things.
“I dunno, maybe I should bring Ammie so I can watch the two of you in a catfight.”
Sabina elbows him in the chest, hard.
“Not funny at all, Basilio. I don’t even know her personally! It’s you I was pissed at.”
Now he grabs his chest in genuine pain as he croaks out an apology. “Sorry.”
“Whatever. Bring whoever the hell you want, just keep your distance from me when you decide to go. Even my father’s going to be there. I need to be on my best behavior.”
The demigod turns to their aswang informant, interest piqued. She’s divulging a lot of information. Perhaps he can sway her to spill more secrets.
“Didn’t know that the Reyna Manananggal had a king.”
“Oh, no. She’s not the type to share her power with a man.” Sabina pauses to take another hit of her cigarette. “I meant my biological father. Villaceran.”
Now that was unexpected.
“You drop bombshell after bombshell whenever we meet. Tomas Dominic Villaceran’s your old man?”
“Look at me. I’m almost the splitting image of the guy. If there’s one thing I’m grateful for, it’s inheriting his good looks.”
Basilio grins. “Can’t deny that. Most of the manananggal kuya Crispin and I encountered look...”
“Hideous, I know,” Sabina says outright. “You still haven’t seen that side of me, so don’t be too quick to judge my sisters.”
Basilio treads carefully, knowing that he might be prying on a sensitive subject. “So, about Villaceran…”
“I’d rather not talk about him. Our relationship is… strained.”
Giving her a sympathetic, understanding look, Basilio nods. “Right. Never mind.”
Another interval of silence passes between them. This time, it’s a little somber.
“So, does this party have a dress code?”
“Yeah. Filipiniana. Wear a barong. It’s one of those pretentious events that attempts to make House of Arko more appealing to the masses or whatever. Manipulative assholes.”
“You can just refuse to go, Sab.”
“I could, but being Trese’s mole among the aswang means I have to attend clan activities to supply more information. That also means attending every single party those Arko fucks throw.”
“You really hate House of Arko, huh?”
Looking towards his direction to meet his gaze, Sabina’s eyes are filled with a sea of emotions. Hatred, indignation, and something Basilio couldn’t quite place.
“Why wouldn’t I? Mama Grande raised boys who can’t take no for an answer. The Arko brothers have no respect for us manananggal. As if we weren’t fetishized enough in Manong Karma’s stupid aswang dating book...”
Sabina clears her throat and calms herself down. Bad blood between aswang clans could mean war. Basilio knows he should take that to the boss. His gears are turning tonight. He asks Sabina questions that could risk her support.
“Is that why you agreed to be an informant? You wanna bring House of Arko down? Then what, your clan will fill the space they’ll leave?”
“What? No, I have no desire for power, not like how Mama Grande or my own mother does anyway. My personal gripes with them aside, the House of Arko wants to ‘unite the aswang under one banner’ with no respect to the other clans’ autonomy and customs.”
“So you wanna protect your clan?”
“That’s one of the reasons, yes. Mama Grande’s been trying to play kumare with mom- I mean Inang Reyna-” This is the second time Sabina slipped and called her mom. She clears her throat and composes herself. “And I need to stop that. Inang Reyna already made the mistake of going against the Accords once. Allying with the House of Arko will ruin us further.”
Basilio leans in closer. “And what are your other reasons?”
Sabina looks at him for a few, quiet seconds, and looks away. “I’ll reveal them-”
“In due time. Yeah, yeah, I can take that as an answer. So, making you sing in that event is a result of them being magkumare?”
A defeated laugh bubbles from Sabina’s chest. “You got it.”
“I’m surprised they didn’t invite sirena to sing.”
Sabina rolls her eyes and tosses the butt of her expended cigarette on the concrete. Basilio took it upon himself to crush the embers under his heel, seeing how her lower half is hidden someplace else.
“Oh please, this is House of Arko we’re talking about, Bas. They believe aswang are superior. Letting them shine would take away the spotlight from the aswang. Mama Grande asked for me from Inang Reyna so they can gloat that even aswang can make better singers than the famed sirena. Ugh, I doubt my singing style even matches the performance they want from me.”
“Oh yeah? What kind of performance are they going for?” he asks her.
“Now that’s another secret. You have to show up to find out,” she hums in response.
Turning away from him, Sabina checks how many sticks are left in the box. Two. She takes one and lights it up.
“Screw it, I’m going cold turkey. I guess this will be my final box. Maybe for tonight. Maybe forever.”
“Then maybe you should stop with the stick you’re smoking and throw the last one away,” Basilio suggests.
“Are you mad? That’s a waste of money!”
“Still counting your blessings even with your mama’s wealth huh?”
“Old habits die hard.”
Sabina blows smoke away from Basilio’s direction. The wind made it waft to his face anyway, and she mumbles a quick apology. He shrugs it off. Not like the adverse effects of secondhand smoke affected him anyway. Hank smoked and was polite enough to turn away too, but Basilio can still smell it. He didn’t mind it. Still, Hank had told him and Crispin that it was a tough habit to break, so he never touched a cigarette.
Not until now.
Basilio takes the box from Sabina and picks up the last stick with his lips. Then, he inches closer to her.
Ironically, in an attempt to help an old friend quit her smoking habit, Basilio engages in it himself.
Little did he know, a new bad habit was forming between him and the little lady before him.
“I’ll make sure it won’t go to waste then. Light me.”
Sabina raises an eyebrow. “Just don’t start at all. Give it back.”
“One smoke isn’t going to get me hooked, princess.”
Brows knitted together, Sabina chastises him. “Take it from me, bad habits start with just one little taste, Bas.”
“One little taste never hurts anyone...”
“One little taste could leave you wanting for more.”
Basilio can feel himself getting hot under the collar. He’d never thought an aswang of all creatures could make him feel all bothered, yet there he was, getting turned on by her choice of words.
“Princess, are we still talking about cigarettes, or something else?”
Hearing his question, Sabina exhales sharply through her nose, cheeks dusted pink. “Maybe both. Whatever. Come here.”
Black fingernails scratched at the sparkwheel. Sparks were flying, but there was no flame. The cigarette remained unlit.
“Well, it looks like fate isn’t letting you smoke, so better just give me the damn cigarette back, Basilio.”
With a sly look, Basilio closes in on her, and presses the end of his cigarette to the embers at the end of hers, linking them together.
To his surprise, Sabina is neither backing away nor babbling defensively like she usually does whenever he gets close. Instead, she presses her chest to his, a challenging look in her half-lidded eyes. She wasn’t wearing her glasses like usual, giving Basilio an unobstructed view of her heated gaze. Was it bloodlust or desire? Either way, it got his blood pumping.
“You’re chattier than usual tonight,” Basilio comments. “Bolder too. I like that.”
In the form she’s in now, Sabina’s eyes glowed an eerie white, and aside from the wings sprouting from her back, little horns sprouted from her scalp, the root concealed by her crown of short, wavy hair. Basilio didn’t pay mind to her dangling guts, instead, his eyes were transfixed on that cute little lace bra again.
Through the layers of cloth between them, he can feel her heart beating. Basilio faintly remembers the taste of human and sigbin hearts.
Now, what does aswang heart taste like?
A dark part of his psyche- perhaps from being Datu Talagbusao’s son- wanted to tear it out of her chest and eat it to find out.
Basilio felt the urge to taste all the battles she fought through her blood, and possess her heart in a way no other person can.
The memory of seeing his father tasting his mother’s blood inserts itself in the present, and the fear of turning into the monster he was is enough for him to shake that thought away.
Basilio tries to focus on something else.
His eyes wander to Sabina’s mouth. He might’ve imagined something else between her dark lips, in place of the cigarette. Something bigger.
Something of his.
Sabina’s been pliable tonight. Perhaps he’ll push his luck with her one last time.
“So, any plans tonight, dear princess?”
“Unless you intend to treat me like one, don’t call me that.”
“I’m done with work, so if you want me to make good on that and make up for my mistake…”
Giggling, Sabina flies a few feet away from him. The black wings on her back are translucent against the pale moonlight. They almost looked like a dark shade of red.
“Go tell your brother about the information I gave you for now, then meet up with me afterwards. I hid my lower half in an alleyway behind that motel,” she tells him, pointing to the building’s direction.
“If you’re lucky, you’ll get to rearrange my guts. Literally and figuratively.” Sabina continues, a naughty smirk blooming on her lips.
Taken aback by the pun, Basilio laughs. “I didn’t think you were capable of dirty jokes.”
“You should know by now that I’m full of secrets and surprises.”
Grinning darkly, Basilio finishes the rest of his cigarette as he watches her fly away.
“And I’ll uncover them all, dear princess.”
Translations:
ulol - crazy; Filipino profanity
gago/gaga - foolish or stupid; Filipino profanity
tangina - contraction of putang ina, lit. whore mother. Used as an expression to express irritation, anger, or astonishment
Inang Reyna - lit. Queen Mother.
mare/kumare - derived from the Spanish word madre/comadre; kumare a reciprocal appellation for the godmother or for the child's mother. In a more modern and colloquial context, it’s used to refer to a female friend. Magkumare means women who are friends with each other.
Filipiniana - Philippine related book and non-book material
barong - also known as Barong Tagalog. An embroidered long-sleeved formal shirt for men and a national dress of the Philippines.
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Text
Wounded Love (Lady Dimitrescu/F!Reader) Pt. 3
Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for blood/violence and language Genre: Action with a lil bit of fluff Warnings: Lil bit of blood Notes: There's an unnamed character in here who may or may not end up as recurring in my stories. I don't really have anything in particular planned for her, she's kinda just here to fill a role/allow for some easter egg type shit in the next chapter. Previous Chapters: Pt. 1, Pt. 2
{Wounded Love 3: Bloody Valentine (No, not that Valentine)}
“Mother Miranda, I must insist, if these lycans stray any further they might start feasting on the village as well! Pray tell, who will you use for research then? We can’t just-... Forgive me… Mhmm. Yes, I understand. Of course… Have a good night, Mother Miranda,” Lady Dimitrescu said, before setting her phone down with a loud thunk. Her hands shake a little, and for a moment you worry that her vanity won’t survive the coming moments. Then you make eye contact with her reflection, giving her an encouraging smile, watching as her gaze softens. “I’m afraid there’s nothing she can do, my dear. I cannot allow Heisenberg’s negligence to go unpunished, but we will have to take care of it on our own, without Mother Miranda’s support.”
“Is that wise, love? To go behind her back like this? I can’t imagine she’ll be terribly pleased if we cause chaos for one of her favored few,” you replied, clicking your tongue as you thought things over. Again you see anger cloud Alcina’s face, though she makes sure not to direct it at you.
“We are not the ones who started this mess,” she reminded you, through clenched teeth. “But we will be the ones to end it, one way or another. I don’t care if I have to gut that wretched man-thing and bring Miranda his corpse as proof of his incompetence! He has shown his lack of loyalty hundreds of times… and now he will pay.” Gulping, you rise to your feet, wanting to comfort your girlfriend. While you had understood that your injury angered her, you hadn’t (until this moment) realized the sheer intensity of that rage. How much blood would be shed before this was over?...
-----------------------------
Crimson drips down the beast’s side, across matted fur, before hitting the wooden floor. A stench as awful as you had ever found filled the air, only made tolerable by the nearby presence of scented candles. What a mess, you think, glad that you wouldn’t be the one to clean it up. Why had the girls insisted on bringing the damn thing inside? Couldn’t they have simply snatched a few teeth from its jaw as a prize? Somehow you doubted that the thought had even crossed their minds. Violence was a passion of theirs, and they preferred their trophies to be as large as the effort they put into getting it.
“How close to the path did you find it?” You asked after finishing your examination of the lycan. Next to you, the eldest daughter is rapidly taking notes in a leather-bound journal. Both of her siblings stand near the fireplace, hands held out next to the flames, needing to warm up after being outside for so long. It wasn’t even that cold of a day, with temperatures averaging around eighteen degrees celsius. All the snowfall from the prior week had now melted. While you knew of the family’s weakness, you also knew that they had bundled up before leaving, and had even taken a torch with them in the hopes of using it on a lycan. Their powers had taken somewhat of a hit, temporarily, but not nearly enough to prevent them from killing a single lycan.
“Heard it howling almost as soon as we left the castle. We couldn’t smell it until halfway to the village, though. Once we could we tried to track it, only for the stupid thing to come charging at us. Must have been eight, maybe ten, meters away by the time we collided,” Cassandra answered. There’s a bit of a shiver to her voice, and you can’t help the rush of sympathy you feel in response. Being out on the path, wearing little more than a dress and scarf, had been absolute hell for you. Even if it was warmer outside now, you imagined that being weak to the cold just about made up for the difference. “There was a little more howling once we started walking back here. Louder, if not closer. Heisenbitch isn’t even trying to keep these fucking things in check.”
“Cassandra, language!” Came a voice in the distance, making everyone present look up at once. Strutting down the stairs was a clearly miffed Alcina, eyes narrowed, body tense. “Did you three really have to bring the mutt inside? Surely you advocated against this, Bela? Or did you think I wanted new bloodstains right by the entrance, where everyone can see them?” Next to you Bela winces, but doesn’t respond, too worried about angering her mother further. “And you, my dear, what on Earth are you doing on the floor? You should be resting, in an actual chair, if not lying in bed awaiting my return. There’s enough for me to worry about without you limping around on a useless leg!”
Now it was your turn to wince.
“Please, love, I know you’re stressed, but I can still help. Given enough time I could help ascertain these things’ weaknesses. At the very least I could pass on what I learned during my fight with one,” you pleaded. Then you tried to stand up, wanting to prove yourself, only to stumble, barely avoiding a faceplant- and only doing so because of Bela’s quick reaction time. She helped you to your feet, letting you lean on her, then lead you towards a bench. Begrudgingly you sit back down. “You’re only doing this because I got hurt. Helping you in your endeavor to avenge me is the least I can do.”
“Don’t be foolish,” Alcina snapped, now just a couple meters away from you. Even with that space between you, her presence was intimidating, and you almost felt like a child being scolded. “Were you to get hurt again, how would we avenge you? If you fall by your own hand, there will be naught I can do other than lock you away somewhere without any dangerous elements. What sort of existence would that be for you? I simply can’t allow it, no exceptions.” At this you pout, feeling rather disappointed. It’s not as if you were asking to carry a gun and shoot Heisenberg yourself! Not that you would be opposed to doing so, of course. “Try to put yourself in my place, my dear. Could you live with yourself if you failed to protect me?”
“I suppose I could not, love. Very well, I shall simply root you on from here, and kiss away any injuries you return with,” you replied, at last giving in. Then you found yourself smiling… and on the receiving end of a very soft forehead kiss. “Nothing will separate us, my love. None can tear apart that which the universe has stitched together.”
-----------------------------
“Like I said, my Lady, I already want him dead. Did you really think that your family was the only one to suffer because of his machinations? I know half a dozen people who would love to put a bullet in that fucker’s skull, bare mims,” the huntress said, white teeth showing in her half-smirk. There was an odd coolness to her voice, like this whole ordeal was just another job, and you couldn’t help but feel uncertain about her. Could she really be the solution to Alcina’s problem? You couldn’t even judge her arsenal, considering she had been instructed to come unarmed. After all, she was a hunter of monsters, with a sizable history to her name. If not for her hatred of Heisenberg, you would never have felt comfortable letting her come within two hundred meters of your girlfriend.
“How can I be sure that you’ll succeed? The last thing I want is to have that wretched man-thing come crawling out of the filth he lives in, angry and coming for vengeance,” Alcina responded, scrutinizing gaze locked on the huntress.
“Didn’t Duke give you my file? Or at least read the good bits out loud? I’ve been in my fair share of scraps, with all sorts of bioweapon mutant freaks. Besides, I don’t plan on leaving any receipts behind. If he manages to survive, which is already one hell of an if, there’s no way he can prove that you asked me to do it. Considering he’s already seen my face, and knows I want him dead… yeah, he won’t bother accusing you, not when I’m in the picture, and certainly not when you’ve got such a big reputation for following Mother Miranda’s word down to the very last letter. So, you gonna make this official, or what?” The huntress asked, gesturing her arms wide. Although you’re still not convinced, Alcina nods quietly, seeming ready to make her decision. Regardless of how you feel about the stranger in front of you, you’re more than willing to support your girlfriend in whatever she planned.
“Very well, huntress. Show us just what you’re capable of.”
-----------------------------
Flames licked at her heels, even as she charged forward, tickling like hot breaths against her skin. Behind her half a dozen lycans roared and screeched in unison. Smoke and ashes flew upwards, into the air, but could not poison her lungs, not when she had come prepared. Still, the mask was not as easy to breathe in as she had hoped, making her chest heave with effort at each intake of air. Good thing I’ll be gone soon, she thought, sparing a glance behind her as she ran. Dozens of trees were aflame, and countless glowing eyes watched from between the branches. They wouldn’t be there for much longer, not with what she had done.
Soon enough an explosion would shake the Earth. Then, finally, both the lycans who had killed her father and the man who desecrated the remains would be dead. And if a certain countess happened to pay her for her services? All the better, really. Funerals could be expensive, especially in such a remote village. More than that… there was no guarantee that she’d be able to outrun Mother Miranda on her own. A little money would make the flight out a hell of a lot nicer.
Assuming she made it that far. There was another scream behind her, this one more human, though somewhat warped by mechanics. It wasn’t a pained cry. No, it was filled with rage. Clearly Heisenberg had come out of his lair, hearing the fireworks, finding his scrap metal and werewolf army in chaos. From the sound of things- metal against metal, electricity crackling- he was coming her way.
“Fuck fuck fuck!” She muttered, desperately trying to get to higher ground. Even if the lycans succumbed to the overwhelming fire, it wouldn’t be hard for their leader to overcome. But the huntress was still too close to her explosives to risk activating the detonator. Just a bit farther, she thought, ignoring the way her lungs ached. Rocks kicked up with every step, loud enough to be heard from a distance, and made traction harder to keep. In the end she had to scramble to get up the side of a short cliff. A few scrapes appeared on her hands, making her curse under her breath.
But with one last movement, pulling herself up with both arms, she was finally far enough to be relatively safe. In one clean second she turned around, pulled the detonator out of its pouch and clicked the trigger. Just like that, a forest blazing turns into a mushroom cloud of pure hellfire. The setting sun makes for a beautiful backdrop, and the sight almost brings a tear to the huntress’ eyes. For a few moments she just enjoys the view. Then, without hesitation or remorse, she starts to walk away, mentally congratulating herself for a job well done.
Until something shoots past her head with terrifying speed. Before she can react another sharp piece of metal flies past her, grazing her arm, and there’s a blood-curdling roar from behind her. Then she’s running, fast as she can, pulse pounding harder than it ever has. One hand goes to the rifle on her back, pulling it out as quickly as she can. The area is rocky, with plenty of outcrops, perfect to hide behind (assuming there weren’t any hidden metal deposits). Quickly she ducks behind one, crouching to keep her head out of sight. Mere milliseconds later another metal spike slams into the ground just beyond her cover.
In the distance, more screams pierce the air, and something heavy drags itself across the ground. It almost sounds like a tank rolling through the woods. The thought alone worries the huntress, but she had never been one to let her fear control her. So she double checks her rifle, adjusts the scope, and pops out of cover. Less than a second later she has her target in her sights. It’s Heisenberg, for sure, more metal than man, but dripping with red. One press of the trigger sends a bullet straight for his ugly head. Unsurprisingly, it’s not enough to pierce his cranium, instead making him mad as hell.
Which is why automatic guns were invented, probably. The huntress holds the trigger down this time, though briefly, before dashing to the next piece of cover. She repeats the process a few times, hoping to kill the man before he could climb the cliff she stood on. If he managed to get up there with her… no, she couldn’t think about that, not now. She had to focus.
-----------------------------
Hidden among the trees, the Dimitrescu sisters watched as plumes of smoke rose in the distance. Even though they had been aware of the huntress’ plan, they hadn’t expected this much carnage. It was certainly exciting! But they really couldn’t see much from where they were. Getting closer was probably a horrible idea, and yet Cassandra shared a meaningful look with Daniela. A split second later they were forming a swarm, rushing into the trees, leaving their elder sister to yell after them.
“Mother’s going to kill me,” Bela said, before rolling her eyes and following. Maybe she could at least keep them out of trouble?... Probably not.
-----------------------------
Metal hands wrap around the huntress’ throat, squeezing hard, but do not twist or otherwise break their prey. No, Heisenberg does not intend to end this that quickly. This rodent had taken so much from him, set his plans back by decades. He was going to kill her slowly. When she still fights back, pulling a knife from her boot and trying to stab whatever she can reach, he does little else but laugh. It’s a crazed cackling that echoes through the surrounding rocky hills.
Just barely loud enough to drown out the sound of insects buzzing.
“Fuck that guy!” Someone shouted, right as a sickle descended upon the monstrous Heisenberg’s neck. The first slice isn’t enough to sever the connection, which is why it’s immediately followed by a second, from another sister, then a third, from the eldest, that finally does the job. Just like that the hands release from the huntress’ throat, and she gasps for air. Coughs leave her distracted as the sisters move to surround her. “Good thing we wanted to see the show up close and personal, eh?” Daniela asked, twirling her sickle with a little giggle.
“You idiots are just lucky I followed you,” Bela added, glaring at her sister. Internally, she was relieved that the end result was a success. Still, she worried about what her mother would think, and certainly didn’t intend to voice her satisfaction at delivering the killing blow. “Now let’s get back, before mother assumes the worst and comes to get us herself.” Sighing, she extends a hand to help the huntress up. Though their mutual enemy had been defeated, there was still much to be done. Who knew how Mother Miranda would react? Who, if anyone, would take Heisenberg’s place? There was plenty to be unsure about, and Bela let her mind wander the whole way back, hoping that things would only get better from here...
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ushiwakaout · 3 years
Text
Things I believe Bokuto Koutaru (timeskip: pro MSBY volleyball athlete ) would say if you lived together (from the moment you wake up, to the moment you fall asleep).
university art teacher! reader
warning: mild swearing? bad spelling :)
request are open: here
“MMm five more minutes.” (5:40 am)
“But baby~*whine* I’m tired”
“Stop trying to uncuddle me please.”
“Nooooooooo~ get back here.”
“Baby *pout* now I’m cold”
“Baby if you don’t come back here and cuddle me, I will die.”
“I will die on our bed, right here, right now.”
“Is that what you want? Alright. Fine!”
“Ugh- Y/n... I don’t feel so good... I think I actually might be dying. Gran, gran? Is that you? I’m coming gran gran!”
*fake dies w/ tongue out*
“Wow okay, so you wouldn’t cuddle me even if it meant you’d save me, alright, I see how it is.”
“Nope, no. I don’t want your kisses anymore, shoo~ go shower stinky.”
“Baby wait, come back, you didn’t give a good morning kiss.”
“Mmm, you’re kisses are the best... Now shoo~ you’re presence is bother me.”
“DON’T USE UP ALL THE HOT WATER, I’M ALWAYS FREEZING!”
“You know what- Stop screaming in the shower, it’s too early.”
“What? It’s not like I haven’t seen you nakey before.”
“Move you’re sweet ass over.”
“You’re s’tiny”
*Small fem section so if you don’t identify, you can ignore*
“You’re boobies looks so small compared to my hands.”
“Wait, look, look *begins to coddle your chest* see, they look so cute.”
“Ow! What are you hitting me for.”
“Let me just.... hold them.”
*End-Continue*
“How about I wash your hair and then you can wash mine, yeah?”
“What do you mean you’ll be late for work.”
“Five more minutes.”
“No, no, no. Not those jeans, those are the ones that make your ass look good.” (6:00 am)
“Now I won’t be able to pinch you’re cheeks all day.”
“Wear the other top, it matches with your skin tone.”
“Here while you where getting pretty I made you a [favorite flavor] protein shake.”
“I’ll walk with you to the station.”
“Give me your hand, I wanna hold your hand.”
“So small”
“What do you mean I have big hands, you’re just small.”
“Wait for me at the school, I have practice today so I can walk with you.”
“It’s no big deal, the gym is like 10 minutes away, just wait for me okay?”
“But I’ll let you know if I run late, most likely- I will run late.”
“Mmm give me a kiss before you go.”
“Another one.”
“Just one more.”
“If I kiss you some more you’ll miss your train.”
“Have a good day at work baby, just one more kiss.”
*you can’t tell me this mother fucker wouldn’t slap your ass the way he slaps a volleyball right before he leaves and just whistles as if HE DID NOTHING WRONG*
“Honey! I’ve brought lunch!” (1:00 pm)
“Oh- you’re with a student... I’ll be quiet now.”
“Finished? Good. I brought you a bento box made with love.”
“Well yeah bought with love, same thing.”
“Did you miss me, of course you did, right?”
“You only get your bento if you kiss me.”
“Mmm one more and i’ll think about it.”
*this man will full on start a makeout session with you but youre stomatch starts to growl and he just laughs at you*
“I also bought you [favorite drink], i’m the best boyfriend huh.”
“How’s work been? Good? That’s great baby.”
“Any new art pieces you’re working on.”
*you cannot tell me that this man would not some how get paint all over his hand and slap your ass after you walked by him while you show him the small exhibition of art you have*
“sorry, your ass just looked good.”
*he’s not sorry*
*you’d be showing him art and this man would touch you everywhere*
“Do have time for a quicky?”
“What do you mean not here? It’s not like we haven’t before”
“But baby~ you just look so good.”
“I can’t keep my hand off you.”
“Give me one more kiss before I leave.”
*one kiss my fucking ass. THIS MAN WILL PICK YOU UP, SIT YOUR ASS ON YOUR DESK AND KISS YOU SO HUNGRILY. It’s those types of makeout sessions where when you part a string of spit just connect the two of you*
*he will also grind on you, trying to get some sort of friction going on- but then the bell rings. You’re very quick to push him off.”
“I’ll see you later baby.” *softest forehead and nose kiss he’ll ever give you... he’s flustered you enough.*
*will not stop thinking about your little makeout session in the art room while he’s at practice and end up just abuse the shit out of a poor volleyball*
“Baby i’m back~” (6:40 pm)
*he had texted you that he would be late to picking you up but luckly you brought your headphones and started to work on a secret art piece of bokuto*
“Baby~”
“Oops, sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“What are you- ARE YOU PAINTING NAUGHTY PICTURES OF ME?!”
“Do you need more reference? Yeah?”
“Does that mean we can have sex tonight?”
“OW! I’m kidding... Well, no I’m not.”
“Stop being so shy, let’s go get food.”
“I’m hungry again.”
*you arrive to the restaurant and he leaves you outside for like 5 minutes just to make sure they have the table you guys like sitting at and he comes back to a guy trying to hit on you*
“Hey, hey, hey man, back off- They aren’t interested.” (7:00 pm)
“You okay?”
“Baby I know you’re a tough cookie, i just wanna know if you’re okay?”
“Let’s go inside, our favorite table is open.”
“What do you mean I eat too much meat, that’s mean y/n”
“Here, try this, its nice and juicy.”
“Don’t be a pervert and open wide.”
*Bokuto is very serious about his meat*
“I want dessert now, lets go to the market that has those cakes you like.”
“Baby! Baby! We need to go now! I just stole this cake from a kids hand!”
“I DID IT FOR YOU! DON’T YELL AT ME!”
“They’re gonna know I avoided my taxes that one year! I’m gonna go to jail!”
“I won’t be able to play volleyball!
“Or eat meat!”
“Oh right, I wouldn’t be able to kiss you either.”
“No~ come here and give me a kiss. I committed a crime for you.”
“Let’s go home, I wanna eat this cake.”
“Home sweet home, time to eat cake :)” (8:10 pm)
“Sit on my lap and eat this cake with me.”
“You fell so good on my lap.”
“My lap is your throne now.”
“No take backsies.”
“Oh hold on, I think Akaashi is calling me.”
“No, no, no, where do you think you’re going.”
*this man will make you coddle him like a koala so he can get up and get his phone just to sit back down with you on his lap*
*this is when Bokuto is most quiet is when he’s listening to Akaashi complain about something because he knows he need’s to let it out somehow.*
*He will start grazing his fingertips against your skin, kiss your fingertips, kiss your shoulder, neck, cheek. If you nuzzle into his neck he’ll start playing with your hair or the back of your neck.*
“Baby did you fall asleep?” (9:10 pm)
“I didn’t mean to wake you, you can go back to sleep now.”
*he will take off your jeans and put you in one os his shirts before tucking you in. will leave your socks on bc you have cold feet*
*he will also shower because believe it or not, this man does not smell when he sweats, you’d think he’d smell like ham or something but no... he legit has no smell- it’s weirder that way*
*when he come out of the shower he ends up waking you up again*
“Baby, can you cuddle me tonight.”
“You’re so warm baby.”
“I’m so lucky to have you.”
“Sleep well baby.”
extras:
“I do not fart in my sleep! Stop lying!”
“Why am I so beefy? Because I eat beef.”
“Atsumu get away from my baby. Sakusa! Attack!”
“The boys are coming over?! WHY DIDN”T YOU TELL ME?! Did i leave my undies in the shower?!”
“Big boobs? Chile anyways.”
“PUT YA MASK ON! PUT YA- Oop I don’t even have mine on right... anywho.”
“Look I took a video of y/n while they where sleeping, they started drooling.”
“Yes it was gross but i couldn’t move, look how cute she looks.”
“LOOK BABY! I painted an owl! Good ain’t it!”
“What do you mean I can’t have meat?! That should be illegal.”
“sawarasenai kimi wa shojo na no. boku wa yarichin bicchi no osu dayo- OH! You’re home! You didn’t hear that did you?!
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multiplefandomsblog · 3 years
Text
“Offer”
request; Can I get an imagine with Kokichi with an artist S/O who wants to paint him but he keeps flustering them with suggestions of a nude painting of him?
warnings; kind of suggestive, mention of nudity, cussing, mutual pining i think, i made it kinda crack fic, reader has an ultimate talent(artist), not edited too well, ended it weird like always, kissing, lowkey making out tho- 
note; wow i wrote way too much- but hey, i still hope you enjoy this!
word count; 1.9k+
You walked around the school, looking for Kokichi to ask him to be your model.
Although you have sketched Kokichi several times before, you felt you needed to ask him face-to-face so he could just stay still in his goddamn chair instead of changing positions every 5 seconds and ruining your half-done sketch. And so, you went off to go find the boy, finding it surprisingly hard to catch him. 
“There you are! I was looking for you-” You puffed out a sigh of relief, clutching your art supplies close to you as you saw your purple-haired classmate. Not a second after he caught sight of your figure jogging towards him, he had started taunting you. 
“Oooooh, hey S/o, you seem mighty happy to see me, hm? I wonder why that is…” He took a funny-looking step towards you, voice laced with an interrogating tone.
He had that strange smirk on his face, and not the one you liked. N-not that you liked his smile! In consequence of staring at him and sketching him constantly without his knowledge—or so you thought—, you have become almost a master of reading his mood and expressions. 
“Don’t get any wrong ideas, I just wanted to ask you if I could paint you.” For a small moment you swore you could see his expression twist into one of shock, before quickly melting back into his shit-eating grin. “Well of course you would! I’m the ultimate supreme leader, after all.” He acted as if he wasn’t just gob-smacked a second ago.
You beamed up at him, you had been in a small art block for a while and the moment you saw Kokichi, you knew he would be the cure to it. And so, you were ecstatic when he said what he said, “So you’ll do it?” You jumped a little too high, and spoke a little too eagerly.
“Mhm! —but with a catch, of course.” Your face dropped, you should’ve known the little fucker would try and get something out of you. “Nishishi!”
Unsure if you even wanted to know, you asked carefully, “W-what’s the catch..?” Your voice laced with caution, brain suddenly being reminded of all the pranks and blackmail he had fucked everyone else over with in the past. Knowing him, it could vary from, ‘Eat a bug.’ to, ‘Survive a knife game against me!’ 
But what he said was definitely worse than the former, and the latter. 
“You have to paint me fully-nude.”
… It was suddenly very quiet, the echo of his insane remark, bouncing off the walls. The silence mostly coming from your side—then again, what did you expect? Painting Kokichi would mean the end of your art block and a painting of Kokichi, like, c’mon, but painting Kokichi nude would mean- Well, you weren’t sure what it meant; hence, the silence.
Impatient and somewhat annoyed by the silence, he poked at your shoulder, “So? Are you gonna paint me naked or not?” You stared at your shoes, too afraid to make eye contact with the boy you were now thinking of... naked. 
“... C-can’t I just paint you normally?” He pouted, a comedically high whine erupting from his throat as he replied, “But that’s no fuuuuuun!” 
“Don’t you want to see your ultimate supreme leader, whipping out his wang?-” You shoved his face away from your warm one, “Y… I mean n-no, no!” Your tone weak before getting loud and defensive as you caught yourself before all hell broke loose. 
You felt your stomach drop as you thought about the possibility of Kokichi knowing you wanted to see him, and I quote, ‘Whipping out his wang’, Kokichi would never let that one go. 
“Aw man, well I guess you don’t wanna paint me theeeen.” He slowly stepped away, a pout on his face as his back faced towards you. He hummed circus music as he teetered on his feet, balancing on one foot at once as he ‘walked’ away from you agonizingly slow, obviously waiting for you to tell him to come back. 
“Koki-” In a flash, Kokichi had been by your side, dragging your hand to god knows where. “You have me convinced! I’ll let you paint me because I’m suuuuuch a nice guy. Nishishi!” Although you should’ve asked where the both of you were going, you felt knowing the catch was more important, “B-but what’s the catch?” 
Kokichi kept at his speedy pace, yet he answered with a voice that still had so much energy in it, “Aww, I’m hurt you think there’s a catch, do you not trust me that much?”
Silence.
“Meanie... but yeah, you were right to suspect me. The catch is.... “ He drum-rolled on your palm, “You just have to kiss me for payment!” He slowed down a bit to send a cheeky smile your way. You almost tripped on your feet as you heard him, “What!? Bu-” 
Kokichi quickly interrupted you, “Uh-uh, don’t try to pretend you don’t wanna. I know you have nooooo problem kissing those little sketches of me when you think no one is looking~” His voice quieted down sinisterly as he spoke, the evil smile spreading across his face once more. Although he had been wearing an extremely thick mask of a smile to hide his true feelings, anyone would’ve noticed that small blush on his upper right cheek. Anyone.
“You saw that?” Kokichi cackled at your agitated and flustered face, “Nishishi! Don’t worry, I’m the only one that knows. After all, no one finds you interesting enough to actually notice that.” You furrowed your brow at the subtle hint he had given you, “But you did-” 
Kokichi put on a teasing smile this time, “That was a lie! I didn’t see anything with my own eyes, I just assumed you have and so you helped me confirm it! Nice job on fucking yourself over, S/o! Nishishi~!” You rolled your eyes, you liked this guy?
Well anyways, it didn’t seem to matter whether you questioned your feelings for the liar, as you finally made it to where Kokichi had been dragging you to. You watched as Kokichi skipped away from you and hopped on the bench, surrounded by moss and other wild plants. 
“Ta-da! When I first saw this place, I immediately thought of you! You know, because you’re a nerd who likes cliché art settings.” He grinned, posing on top of the bench, “How’s this? Nishishi! Don’t answer that, I know this is perfect.”
 ... He looked like an idiot. But a cute idiot.
Suppressing a laugh, you gestured downwards to guide him down from his strange pose, “U-uh, maybe you could just, sit down? Like a normal person, I mean.” He sneered at you, before reluctantly sitting down, “You’re so boring.” The way he sat on the bench reminded you of a child who had just gotten denied candy. 
Smiling in relief, you quickly took a seat on the bench opposite to him, bringing out your supplies excitedly. Despite the pout on Kokichi’s face, and the grudge he wanted to keep, the way you so excitedly took out your canvas made his heart melt as well as his attitude. 
In the corner of your eye, you swore you could see Kokichi’s genuine smile, albeit it was lopsided but it still made you flush. Without thinking, you spoke, tilting your head upwards to look at him better, “You should smile more, you’re really pretty like that.” He… his mind blanked for a second, his façade fading away slightly to reveal a genuine expression of shock.
He quickly gained his composure back, “Um, okay? I always smile, are you blind?” Despite his passive-aggressive reply, you couldn’t find any reason to be mad, although you should’ve been. You smiled fondly and shook your head, diving back into concentration towards your canvas.
--
After an hour of pointless conversation, flirting, and calculated strokes of your brush, you were satisfied with the result. “... Alright, I’m done.” Kokichi sighed exasperatedly as he stood up and stretched, “Finally! I was afraid my limbs were going to freeze forever in that position.” You stared at him accusingly, “You didn’t even stay still the entire time. At one point, you did a fucking cartwheel-” 
Kokichi slid on over you, leaning over your seated figure to peak at the painting of him. “Lemme see!” He reached for the painting with his pale hands, causing you to jerk the painting away from his reach. “It’s not dry yet! Just look, don’t touch.” You scolded, unamused by his pouty expression. “You’re no fun S/o-chan, but okay. I know how much you like to be in charge~” He teased, before finally laying his eyes on the painting he stayed still one whole hour for. 
You felt your anxiety rise at his silence, “... Well, d-do you like it?” Although you were pretty confident in your ultimate talent and skills, for some odd reason, you felt extremely nervous when you showed it to Kokichi. 
You were confused as to why your hands were shaking, you’ve shown your artwork to galleries, museums, the harshest art critics in the world! So why the hell did it matter so much to you if this one boy liked it or not?
“I think it looks super handsome! And by it, I mean me. Nishishi!” He grinned, “I look good in everything after all.” You scoffed, you couldn’t believe you actually expected a genuine compliment from Kokichi, of all people. 
“Hey so, it’s time for your payment you know?” Payment... what? You looked up at him in confusion, big fat crocodile tears sprung out from his eyes, “Waaaah! I can’t believe S/o forgot our deal!” You flushed again as you were suddenly reminded of the kiss. 
You sighed tiredly, “You were serious?” He glared at you, “I’m always serious!” You gave him an accusing look that screamed, ‘You know that’s bullshit.’ But sighed defeatedly for what seemed like the umpteenth time. As you stood up to walk up to him, you set your painting down nearby.
Squirming underneath his expectant gaze, you leaned in torturously slow until your noses were nearly touching, your eyes were glued to his lips nervously. You kind of just… stood there, waiting. Waiting for him to take initiative, as he usually does. “... You know, You’re kissing me, right? Not the other way around.” His voice was lower, quieter than usual, and you could feel his breath within each word.
He smirked at your awkward shuffle towards him, finding your averting eyes and flushed face extremely endearing. Though Kokichi would never admit it, deep down he was nervous too- But of course, he refused to ever admit that reality. Even to himself. 
“I-I know that! I was just… preparing.” He hummed a skeptical ‘Okay’, standing patiently for the kiss you owed him. Letting out a shaky breath, you quickly pressed your lips on his, before immediately pulling away. Well, you tried pulling away. Kokichi gripped your collar, eagerly going in for more. His lips enveloped yours roughly, he could feel you trying to back away and so he just decided he had to go even harder. 
Once he pulled away, he saw your lips puffy and swollen, and face completely dazed. You wanted to ask him why he stopped but he interrupted you before you could, “You know, I never said you had to kiss my lips, pervert〜” Your eyes widened at his statement, “It seems you’ve been wanting this for a while, huh?” You didn’t say anything, only fuelling his fire. 
“Nishishi! You’re so obsessed with me, it’s adorable~” You took a defensive step back, “I-I am not!” He suddenly leaned his face dangerously close to yours, grinning sadistically as he heard your whimper. “You shouldn’t lie, you know? Especially not to me.” He leaned in next to your ear, catching your earlobe between his teeth and biting gently. 
“Anyway!” You snapped out your daze as he barked suddenly, “The nude painting offer still stands, you know!” He yelled out, walking away from you, strangely.
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vics-writes · 3 years
Text
I found this on wattpad so here we are
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Square filled: Fake dating/married
Summary: For a mission Sam and Bucky have to go undercover and because of some misunderstandings the two are now soon to be Mr. and Mr. Wilson to their target.
or two dumbasses pining for each other while oblivious to the other feelings
Warnings: Light Swearing, mention of death, blood, injuries
Disclaimer: this one is mostly fluff because I need it in my life, idk about the others.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
-DO-
"How do you fuck up so bad?!" Sam groaned when Bucky slammed the door open questioning him.
"I panicked okay? We weren't supposed to know each other! I didn't exactly imagine that you would be caught in the crossfire!" every bit of anger Bucky felt crumbled down when Sam stood in front of him.
He wasn't crying but his tear stained cheeks suggested otherwise; Bucky wanted to ask, but he bit back the question as soon as it popped into his head. Sam wouldn't tell him, why should he?
The room fell silent as Sam sat back on the bed they now had to share. Somehow it felt wrong for Bucky to sit next to him so he sat on the ground; he could have easily went to sit on the couch on the opposite side of the room, but he didn't want to be too far away.
With the shield still in Walker possession Sam was growing increasingly frustrated and he knew it was his fault. And with the Flag Smashers still on the loose Sam was over the edge.
"You didn't get hurt did you?" Sam broke the silence glancing down at him and the super soldier just shook his head. He was going to say something else when Sam's phone started to ring.
"Sharon" Bucky nodded towards the other while he answered and put him on speaker. "We're both here" They heard a chuckle on the other side and they both knew that call had nothing to do with the mission, or at least nothing serious.
"So, soon to be Mr. and Mr. Wilson.." The woman started being cut off by a laugh, most likely Joaquin's. Sam groaned clearly contemplating if it was worth throwing the phone out of the window.
"I'm not wearing an earpiece ever again! It's your fault!" Bucky stared at Sam with confusion, he had lost his in the crossfire so he hadn't heard the men's voices while Sam tried to explain how they knew each other.
"What did I do?!" Growing rapidly frustrated at the laughter of his teammates Sam got up and left the room. "He's left" Bucky said when Sharon called for him.
"It is our fault" Torres noted after a while that all of them stayed silent. Bucky didn't even have to ask why he had said it when Sharon answered "I didn't think he would really say it!"
"What?" confusion clear in Bucky's voice that only grew when Torres and Sharon resumed their laugh. "I suggested the fianceé thing, but I was kidding!" Torres said in between chuckles.
Bucky hung up the phone on the two laughing and got up to go look for Sam, he found him in the hotel's garden looking down at some yellow flowers.
Ignoring how hard his heart started to pound in his chest he got closer deciding to scare the man when he heard Sam talk.
"Hey bud" He saw Sam extend an hand towards the flowers. Picking up a little bird. Bucky couldn't help the smile that crept on his face.
"Mr. Wilson, Mr. Barnes!" the voice of their target startled them both Bucky promptly turned around realizing he didn't have gloves on, therefore they were in deep shit.
Sam realized too so he swiftly went to stand next to Bucky, sliding an arm around his waist, allowing him to hide his metal hand behind the other's back. They eyed each other and for a moment Sam was taken aback by the way Bucky smiled at him.
It was a rare sight, Bucky so close to him, smiling lightly. Sam chest felt lighter than it had in a while and he felt his hand hold on the man waist a little closer.
"We're good thank you! The room is amazing!" Sam hadn't realized the conversation had went on, too focused on the man next to him. And it didn't help Bucky feeling Sam breath tickle his neck.
The conversation slowly died down and the target left the two of them alone soon enough. The moment he was out of sight both almost jumped away from each other, redness on both their faces and a strange coldness took over them in the place the other's body was pressed against theirs.
"Samuel, James" Zemo passed them with a sly grin and Sam just barely acknowledged him with a nod. "I think he didn't understand the 'undercover means we don't know each other' thing" Bucky tried to lift the tension between him and his partner.
"I think that fucker just likes to mess with us" Sam replied, a little smirk tugging at his lips as he said that.
"We need a story, and a convincing one. We can't risk Mr. White catching us in the lie" Bucky hummed before starting to get back to their room but he stopped as soon as he realized Sam had knelt in front of the flower from before and had picked up the bird again.
"What are you doing?" Sam showed him the little bird and then lifted its wing, "This little guy is hurt, so I'm taking it back to our room"
Bucky glanced at the bird and then back at his partner in astonishment as he passed him going back to their room, in the middle of a potentially deadly mission Sam cared about a bird with a broken wing.
I guess that's what you get when you work with the most caring human being in the universe.
"So we met around seven years ago because of work" Sam started reading the things they had come up with.
"And you fell in love with me the first time you saw me" Bucky joked from where he was sitting upside down on the couch. "I'm pretty sure it was the other way around, Jamie" Sam held his gaze and before they knew it they were having yet another staring contest.
Bucky noted to himself to not let that happen again, because as stubborn as he was keeping up with Sam was starting to get difficult since every time he looked into the man's eyes he felt the urge to get closer and just do something.
"I wouldn't know I wasn't exactly in the right state of mind for love, you know?" he kept the joke beaming when he was met by a soft chuckle. "Well, you basically jumped on my car, so I guess it was love at first sight for you" Bucky shook his head smirking. "The fact that you snatched the steering wheel out of the car I was driving from my hands is completely irrelevant" Sam muttered trying to hold back a laugh when he was met with a really confused and really surprised Bucky.
"I did what?!" Sam burst out laughing loudly and basically rolled down the couch while Bucky grew flustered.
When night came they had a seemingly plausible story about how and when they met and how their relationship developed through the years.
So they were ready to answer the questions that obviously targeted them during dinner. Mr. White seemed really interested in their story and asked a lot of questions but neither of them really thought anything of it. The man was known for being some kind of hermit who lived away from technology and therefore he should have know nothing about them.
"You really seem to love each other dearly" The man commented at some point causing both of them to blush vigorously, Sam was the one to answer with a firm yes taking Bucky's hand from the table and interweaving their fingers.
The super soldier smiled fondly at his partner forgetting for a moment that it was all an act and letting himself enjoy the way it felt for Sam's hand to be in his.
"Sam, can I call you Sam?" suddenly the man's face fell and for a slight second Bucky was able to see a emotionless mask drop on the gentle face he had seen the past days, his anxiety grew when the man next to him nodded "I would like to speak to you in private, if you don't mind?" the question wasn't really a question and Sam nodded glancing at his partner. Bucky felt his hand still in Sam's and he tried to plead him with his eyes to not go alone.
There was something in the sudden change of emotions on the man's face that made him nervous and the thought of leaving Sam alone with him worried him more than he liked to admit.
But still, there was nothing he could do except watch as Sam left the room, following their target.
Wary of his surroundings Bucky noticed that the moment the door closed the men in the room had started to surround him.
He mentally cursed Zemo for leaving them alone at dinner but he didn't really have time to think about him since the guards in the room attacked him.
In a swift motion he grabbed Sam's previous chair and smashed it on a man's head and then turned around to take the gun out of another's.
Now he had a gun but the men in the room outnumbered him greatly so he used the first chance he got to get closer to a wall so that he could turn his back at it without risking of getting shot.
For some reasons the men in the room weren't shooting at him, they were attacking him physically and never more than two at a time. Bucky knew that there was something wrong about it but his mind was too worried about keeping him alive and worrying about his partner to really care about how they were attacking him.
But as the fight went on Bucky started to struggle against the men, he was sure he was going down but the thought of what could have happened to Sam kept him going.
Then the men suddenly stopped as the door opened, their target started clapping at him as he approached. "Good show Mr. Barnes" he commented with a smirk.
Bucky got up to attack him but the man's smile just grew making him falter. "Where's Sam?" he didn't like the way the man smiled at him, and he hated the sound he made with his tongue.
"Your fianceé? Oh he's right here" He turned towards the door as he spoke and two men threw Sam into the room. The man looked beaten up and there was blood running down his neck. He didn't seem to have the strength to get up but his eyes were open and they widened when he saw Bucky surrounded by men.
"Buck" the nickname fell softly from Sam's lips and his breath was cut short by a kick in the abdomen.
Bucky took a step forward but the man in front of him put a hand on his chest, without thinking he gripped the hand and turned it letting the man fall on the ground, he was about to hit him when he felt a low whine from his partner again. He lifted his eyes from the man under him to see Sam on the floor and Mr. White's foot on his throat.
"Touch one other of my men and your lover dies" he threatened pushing his foot harder against Sam's neck.
"Leave him" the super soldier hissed letting go of the man. When Sam throat was released Bucky realized he wasn't breathing too.
His anger only grew when Sam started coughing painfully still on the ground. looking at his partner he could feel his muscles aching for the need of doing something, anything, to protect him. But he couldn't. He knew that as soon as he moved Sam would die and the bare thought of it happening made him feel like he was underwater.
He felt panic raise at the back of his throat the more he realized there was nothing he could do to make things better. He could only watch as Sam was lifted from the ground and thrown into a chair with a loud groan.
They didn't even bother tying him, as it looked like even breathing pained him.
"Take off your gloves, soldier" Panic shot inside Sam eyes, he knew. He knew about Bucky arm. He knew who he was. And that couldn't be a good thing.
He wanted to tell him not to listen to him, he begged him with his eyes but Bucky slowly took of his glove revealing his metal hand. If Sam wasn't so worried about his partner he wouldn't have noticed how his flash hand shook as he took it off.
And that worried him a whole more. He was sure he was as worried as him about the man knowing who he was, but he couldn't have been more wrong. Bucky was worried, scared even, but it wasn't about himself. He couldn't help but feel like all of that was his fault.
The man had an interest in him, not Sam. Sam was a mean to an end. Sam was how he got to him.
He was the reason why Sam had gotten hurt and was now risking his life.
Guilt started to make his way into Bucky's mind as tears clouded his vision.
"So it's true. You are the Winter Soldier." Sam head shoot up to look at the man when he grabbed Bucky's metal arm and liftrd it. But Bucky kept his eyes on his partner, scared that if he stopped looking something could happen to him.
"Now I don't have your code words. But I'm sure that with the right leverage -Bucky flinched slightly when he pointed towards Sam- you will do the work just as good, isn't that right?"
"N-no" Sam struggled to talk and his voice came out a barely whisper, but Bucky heard him and felt his heart quiver. Even when his life was on the line, Sam still put his wellbeing before his own.
"Yes" Bucky face fell, his eyes cold and his body still. He hated it, he hated everything about it, but Sam was more important now.
"You will do some things for me and if you're good then maybe I won't kill your little boyfriend" Sam felt a wave of guilt wash over him. Seeing Bucky acting like the Winter Soldier wasn't anything knew, Madripoor was an example, but knowing that that man wanted him to kill. That was bad.
And it was his fault. Bucky was doing it because he wasn't strong enough, he just had to get himself caught and held hostage.
He wanted to scream, tell the man to fuck off and leave them alone. He wanted to do something, anything, to stop Bucky from acting like that.
His heart broke even more when Bucky muttered 'ready to comly' as if he had pronounced his trigger words. and when the man smirked at him Sam just knew that he need to act, even if it got him killed.
Thinking about it it was probably Bucky's best chance. If he died the man couldn't use him as leverage.
It hurt even to breathe but thinking about Bucky's freedom was enough to give him a motive.
Both men sprung into action at the same moment. Sam snatched the gun from the guy next to him while Bucky grabbed Mr. White throat. Within seconds the two men were close again and Sam held the gun to Mr. White head.
The moment his men started to get closer Sam shoot a bullet in the air as a warning and everyone in the room went still, waiting for their next move.
"You okay?" Sam asked gaining a very mad and very concerned look from his partner. "You're asking me if I'm okay?"
Sam snorted as he moved towards the exit, but walking was becoming increasingly more difficult and Bucky noticed so he used his free hand to steady his partner helping him get out. On his way out he broke the door handle locking everyone inside.
The moment they were out of trouble Bucky punched the target so hard Sam was sure he had heard bones crack.
"James! Samuel! here you are." Zemo came running towards them, stopping in his track when he looked at Sam. "What happened to you?" he tried touching the blood on Sam's neck but Bucky grabbed his hand before he could reach it.
"Tie him up in your room." Zemo glanced towards the man on the ground and nodded dragging him away from there.
Silence met the two men as they stared at each other, both of them too worried to even talk. But now was not the time to have a staring contest and Bucky came to his senses when he noticed Sam slowly losing balance.
He moved closer wrapping an arm around his waist and allowing him to put his arm around his shoulders.
Back to their room Bucky laid Sam on the bed and began to look the first aid kit. He started to open every bag they had and every closet, cabinet or drawer in the room but he couldn't find it.
He nervously glanced towards Sam urging him to stay awake. "In my bag" Sam smiled at him as Bucky fetched the kit and started patching his head.
"How do you feel?" Sighing deeply Bucky looked at him. "Stop asking me how I am, youre the one injured!" he raised his voice and felt immediately bad when Sam flinched.
"I'm sorry" Sam looked at him and just knew he wasn't talking about raising his voice. "Not your fault, I shouldn't have lowered my guard."
The soldier shook his head at that but stopped when Sam's hand found his cheek. "I'm okay Buck. How are you?"
Bucky faltered trying to resist the urge to lean into Sam's touch, he muttered something that reminded of a 'fine', and when he looked into his partner eyes he felt his resistance crumble to the ground.
He leaned into his hand while getting closer. Sam smiled at the closeness and Bucky swore to himself that he would have done anything in his power to make sure that smile was the only thing on his face for as long as Sam allowed him to be with him.
At the same time Sam swore that he would have done anything to keep Bucky safe from his past.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
is this bad? yes. am I going to post it anyways? yes.
next one
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miss-choco-chips · 3 years
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Umm... I was wondering if you could Maybe do a follow up on your mini fic Last Line from dicks pov? It gave me alot of feelings and i would love to see the fallout?
Your work is really good! Its so cool how your brave enough to put pieces of yourself out there for other people!
Hey babe! Thank you for your kind words! It made me smile getting this, you are very sweet <3
I totally forgot about Last Line lol, but when I saw it reminded me that I actually wrote a bit more of it, both before and after the scene I posted. So, this isn’t exactly what you asked, but here’s some backstory and then the fallout!
---.---
Four years old, and he watches the red string on his finger pulled taunt towards the crying boy, the color of the thread well disguised among the red blood of the murdered acrobats.
Nine, and he watches from the shadows as it swings right and left, following Robin’s pirouettes from building to building. The thread, that usually goes a few feet before ‘vanishing’ from sight, was almost completely visible now, at such a short distance from the person holding onto its other end.
He’s on his twelve when he tries to explain to Dick the importance of him going back home. He wasn’t sure of his success, even though the older hero took him to the manor, because during his whole speech, Nightwing hadn’t looked up from the red joining them together. It wasn’t exactly how Tim wanted him to find out, but… Batman needed a Robin, and he was out of options.
At fourteen, he feels Kon’s hand clenching on his shoulder, as they both watch from the side how Nightwing swept Barbara off her feet and twisted her around, laughter falling from both their lips even as Dick thread’s end was pointing towards Tim. The third Robin didn’t turn to look at his best friend, didn’t meet Bart’s eyes or react to Cassie taking his hand on hers. He just made sure his face was perfectly devoid of any emotion when he muttered, low enough only a kryptonian would hear, ‘I wish it was any of you’. 
(A few nights later, when he and Conner were sitting quietly on the Tower’s roof, the clone took Tim’s hand with his own, his lack of red string blatantly obvious as he said ‘If I had any, I wish it could be you’. To this day, it’s the sweetest thing anyone ever said to him)
He is so, so tired, and he’s only sixteen. But keeping up with the shitfest that was the Battle for the Cowl, helping Dick while ignoring his red string (pulling him towards Nightwing, now Batman, stark contrast against the dark of his suit, with distracting insistency), dealing with Damian’s abuse as expected of him as the ‘mature, older brother’, coping with Bruce’s death, the shock of Dick throwing him, his soulmate, away so so easily…
(Shouldn't be surprising; Dick had been discarding him in favor of others since they met, shamelessly displaying his various relationships in front of him with an attitude that might be called cruel from anyone else but that just earned him playful shoves from other Leaguers while Tim was expected to swallow his pain, because a red string isn’t a promise, Dick is free… and yes, he knows that, but it doesn’t mean shit to his dying heart)
(Maybe, when he left for proof of Bruce being alive, it wasn’t so much for his old mentor than it was for himself)
----.----
Tim is seventeen and halfway across the world, looking at the string attached to his hand that never truly meant anything to any other than him (not to Bruce, who never took Dick aside and talked to him about consideration with his soul mate; not Dick's conquers, who never gave a fuck  about the red string in the hands that touched their skin, even when a lot of them knew who was on the other end of it; not Dick himself, who after asking every thing out of Tim and having it, forcefully took the one thing Tim wouldn't give by choice and claimed Tim was his equal, his soulmate, so he never could be his sidekick... even if it was the first time ever that Dick even mentioned the string tying them both together), when he thinks 'you were always free; now, I'm freeing myself’.
He gingerly bites on the string, and with his other hand takes a handful of it and pulls.
The pain piercing his heart is expected, but not new. He had been feeling it since the first time he saw Dick's back as he walked away with someone else.
He times it carefully, too. He doesn't think Dick would care, but just in case, Tim waits until it's morning in Gotham, when he's sure Dick is probably sleeping after patrol.
Maybe he would wake up without noticing
---.---
In Gotham, Dick is carried by Alfred and Damian to the cave, when the new Batman's screams of pain woke everyone in the Manor up. They are suspecting cardiac arrest, and then Dick looks down to his hand and notices the string, always tense, signaling him where his north is, where Tim is, laying loose and lifeless.
He panics, asks Superman to track Tim down or something, and when the man confirms Tim is still alive somewhere in the Middle East, he knows.
And like a freight train, the parting words Kori told him the last time they saw each other hit him right in the chest.
"He isn't going to wait for you forever"
----.-----
When Tim does come back, at nineteen, it’s a quiet thing. 
He spent the last how many days carefully setting his systems up, making sure his mainframe would outstand Oracle’s scrutiny when she realized he was back in town and tried to hack her way into his life.
(He didn’t blame her, of course not. Dick was charming enough, good enough, anyone he set his eyes into would be helpless to nothing but fall in his arms.
And, wasn’t Tim the one who would have been intruding, had he tried to chase after the first Robin? Everyone knew he and the original Batgirl were a perfect match, thousands of times better than Tim, whom Fate just wanted to screw over.
But not anymore)
The first thing he did, once the safe houses were chosen and his programs up and running, was to ruthlessly hack into the Batcomputer and take a look at patrol routes. 
He would need to keep clear of Diamond District and Old Gotham, least he risked crossing paths with B and R. The Financial and City Hall Districts were apparently Batgirl’s playground for the night, and if he wanted to drop by and let Cass know he was back, he could always search for her by the Upper West Side down to Chinatown.
He would avoid the Upper East Side like the plague, though. Maybe Coventry too, just to be safe. Lots of skintight blue in that direction.
Which left… Crime Alley, the Bowery and Burnley, mainly. He needn't check to know who’s house that was.
And that’s how he ended, on his very first night back on the streets, dragging Red Hood’s bleeding ass away from a blowing up building.
-----.-----
Apparently, saving a recently rehabilitated murderous vigilante was a bonding experience, because Jason didn’t kick him out of his side of town, nor tell on him. 
He couldn't, however, do anything to prevent the criminal gossip mile from spreading, and before a week had passed, half the city was aware of the new player on the board.
-----.------
Jason was taking a breather, smoking while sitting on his favorite rooftop, when the rustling sound of fabric told him his peace and quiet was over.
“I thought you were back at being N”, he greeted, not bothering to turn around or get up. 
“B was out of town, and Robin needed someone to watch over him during patrol.”
A quick glance around had Hood snorting, “Then y’re doing a shitty job. Don’t see the midget anywhere.”
It would never NOT be weird to hear a strangled laugh coming out of the Bat suit, as tight and humorless as it was now. It seemed big ol Dick wasn’t doing so great tonight.
“Batgirl took him to a party in Diamond District. Gang war.”
He humms in response, not bothering to keep on the smalltalk. N, no, B was here for something, and it wasn’t Jason’s job to ask it out of him; if it was important, he would do it himself.
“Where is him, Hood?”, he finally went to the heart of the matter. 
Jason tilted his head, still looking over his city, unmindful of the steps coming closer to his position, “Robin? Ya just said it, B. Going senile? Gang war, wasn’t it?”
“Don’t play around. You know I mean…”
Oh, yeah, Dickie still wasn’t sure what to call Timbo. Criminal gossip only went so far, for someone who didn’t bother to shout his hero name to everyone he beat up. It was very possible only  Jason was aware of his new monicker. All gothamites knew was a young vigilante showed up recently, wearing red and black and hanging out with the Hood, which immediately upped his street rep to ‘not to be fucked with’.
“Lil red?”, he completed for his older brother, feeling both charitable and petty. Batman’s wince was more evident by the rustling sound of his cape; he had hit a sore spot, hadn’t he? 
“Where? I’m not asking again.”
“Good, ‘cause I’m not answering. Must be ‘roundere somewhere, the little creep.”
“Hood, I’m running out of patience.”
“And I’m out of cigarettes, your point? I don’t have him on a leash asshole. We just share the same hunting space, it’s not like we go home together and do face masks while we talk about feelings.”
They did go to a safespot, though, and share beer and pizza while cursing their relatives and Fate as a whole, but it wasn’t necessary information for the fucker. He just breathed in the last of his smoke before dropping the cigarette butt and stepping on it, stretching as he did.
“Now, any more of this riveting conversation, or can I go? No, wait, it was a rhetorical question; get out of my part of town, ass. I’ve been plenty generous by letting you come this far, but our truce lasts as long as the lot of you don’t build any sandcastles on my playground and you know it. Now, scram.”
He could feel Dick’s reticence at leaving without what he came here for, but Oracle must be talking him into letting it be for tonight, because he didn't push. Jason turned just in the right moment to catch the way Dick looked down to his gloved hand, as if expecting the lifeless red string to be pulled taunt in Tim’s direction by some miracle. Jason felt the smallest ping of pity, quickly washed away by the memory of the younger hero’s haunted eyes as he told Jason the story of his severed soul bond and how he came to do it.
Thirty seconds after the bat vanished into the night, a little red bird landed softly on the spot next to him.
“Thanks, Hood”, he muttered, just as tired and hurting as he’d been ever since he saved Jason’s ass and they became partners, but with the smallest hint of lightness that made him prouder of driving Dick away than he’d ever been.
“Don’t mention it, but fair warning, the big B scomin back home in a few days, and he’s harder to kick out than a hurting, annoying bluebird.”
“I know”, Tim sighed, well aware of both facts. “I’ll play it by ear. For tonight, what about bashing some skulls and ruining Two Face’s new op? Good intel says it’s just a few blocks from here, and shattering bones always makes you smile.”
“Babybird, you speak the language of love.”
“Wasn’t that french?”
“I’m trying to compliment you, don’t be a smart ass about it.”
“I am smart, and I do have a good ass. That seems like an impossible request.”
----.----
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rizlowwritessortof · 3 years
Text
Meant To Be - Chapter 8
Dean and Jordan are each trying to escape their painful pasts. Their chance meeting and a dangerous encounter begins a relationship that may give them both a new start.
Pairing: Police Detective Dean Winchester/Jordan Taylor
Word Count: 3085
Warnings: None
Aesthetic by @editsbymichele on Instagram; Dividers by @firefly-graphics​ 
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Jordan regained consciousness with a groan at the throbbing pain in her head. She tried to move, to hold her head in her hands, but they were securely bound behind her back – duct tape, it felt like, and she opened her eyes slowly, remembering what had happened and wondering where she was.
The masked man in front of her shoved at the shoulder of the larger man beside him. “Hey – bitch is awake.”
She squinted up at the man who had spoken, defiance in her eyes. “Fuck you.”
He took a step towards her, but his apparent boss grabbed his arm. “Knock it the fuck off. Take a walk.”
Douche-bag flunky stalked away in a huff, and the man in charge hunkered down in front of her. “Sorry things have to be like this, but it’ll be over soon. Just keep your mouth shut and do as you’re told, and you’ll be fine.”
Jordan just glared back at him, then turned her head, letting her eyes scan the room. She was in some sort of garage, or storage building, she wasn’t sure. The windows were painted over, so no view to the outside. She winced as she moved, her jaw aching and her head pounding with every beat of her heart. Oh, God… Sam…
“What about the guy you beat half to death. Will he be fine?”
Her captor tilted his head. “They hauled him off to the hospital. I’m sure he’ll live.”
She stared back at him, venom in her gaze. “He’d better.”
He chuckled quietly. “Listen, all you need to worry about is that your boyfriend does what he’s told. Then everybody can go home, nobody else needs to get hurt.”
“Right. Except him.”
He shook his head. “As long as he does his job, he’s good.”
“I thought this was all about revenge for the shooting.”
“I want one thing, and one thing only, and a cop is the only one who can get it for me. Speaking of… it’s about time to make a call. Since you’re awake and so chatty. Because I’m sure he’s gonna want to talk to you.” He stood back up, pulling a phone from his pocket – it was hers. He placed the call and put it on speaker, waiting silently for an answer.
“Jordan?”
“Wrong. I am Jordan-adjacent, though.”
“She’d better be in perfect health, you dick, or...”
“She’s fine. Just shut up and listen. Remember a couple of months ago, the big drug bust, made all the papers?”
Dean was silent for a moment, and Jordan pictured him closing his eyes, dreading what was coming next. “Yeah.”
“Well, Detective – all that cocaine? That was mine. You’re gonna go to the evidence lock-up, take it all out, and bring it to me. Three duffle bags, no tricks.”
“You’re fucking crazy.”
“Crazy or not, it’s mine – and I want it back. I don’t care how you do it – not my problem. You get me that coke, and your little spitfire here gets to live.”
“I’m not doing shit until I talk to Jordan. I need to know she’s okay.”
“Yeah, I figured as much.” The masked man knelt down in front of her and held the phone closer to her.  “Go ahead, talk.”
“Dean?” Her voice quavered as she fought tears for the first time since her ordeal had begun.
“Jordan, are you hurt?”
“I’m okay. Dean, is Sam...”
“Sam’s gonna be fine. Don’t worry.”
Her captor rose to his feet again. “Okay, that’s enough for now. I’ll call you in one hour with instructions.”
Jordan swallowed a sob, tears slowly trailing down her cheeks as he ended the call. “You’re insane. How is he supposed to steal drugs from the police lockup?”
“He’ll figure it out. He’d better.” He turned and reached to grab her by the arm, pulling her to her feet. “And now, since our little phone call is done – you can go into the storage closet so we can take off these fucking masks. Hope you appreciate how careful I’ve been to make sure you can survive this little transaction.”
She shot him a glance full of spite. “I’ll send you a fruit basket.”
He laughed. “You know, different circumstances, I think I could really like you.” He unlocked and opened the door to a large walk-in closet, windowless and dark except for vents high up near the ceiling that let scant light in from the room outside. He moved farther into the room, lowering her down next to the wall. A blonde sat across from her, arms held close against her body. “Brought you a roommate. Play nice.” He turned and left the room, locking the door with a loud click and walking away.
The girl looked up at Jordan, her expression stoic. “So you’re the one.”
“The one what?”
“The one I was supposed to grab the first time.”
Jordan leaned her head back against the wall. “You’re Megan? What are you doing in here? I thought you were working with these assholes.”
Megan looked away. “I was supposed to do their dirty work for them. Didn’t work out so well.”
“Sucks when you piss off the boss,” Jordan muttered resentfully, and the blonde’s head raised back up, her blue eyes angry.
“Look, I didn’t… I mean, I knew what I was doing, but I just – I wanted justice for my brother. They lied to me. I found out, after… I tracked down a couple of people that were there that night, people that are still hiding because they’re afraid of these fuckers. They told me what happened. That your cop boyfriend didn’t have any choice. And I was pissed, I called these asshats and told them I wanted to meet.”
“I take it they didn’t like what you had to say.”
“I told them I didn’t like being lied to and used, and that I was done. And they told me that was too bad, because they couldn’t let me go since I knew too much. And I tried to get away, but they broke my fucking arm and knocked me out, locked me up in here.”
Jordan was silent for a moment, the only sound the other girl’s agitated breathing as she fought to control herself. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I assumed… Do you know who they are?”
Megan shook her head. “No. They wore masks when I met them, before that it was just phone contact.”
After a few seconds of silence, Jordan spoke softly. “They want Dean to steal cocaine from the evidence lockup and bring it to them. Supposedly, if they get what they want, they’ll let us go.”
Megan let out a derisive snort. “I’ll believe that when it happens. They’re already on the hook for murder, I doubt if they give a shit about a couple more.”
Resting her aching head against the wall, Jordan let out a sigh. “I know.”
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Dean gripped his phone so hard that his hand shook, and Donna put a firm hand on his forearm. “Calm down. Losing it right now isn’t going to help anybody, Dean.”
He looked at the technician sitting behind the monitor, and she shook her head before dropping her eyes. “No trace. Damn it, Donna, what the hell am I supposed to do?”
“Cap’s office, now - brainstorm. We’ll figure it out.”
After a quick knock, the partners were invited to enter, and they both plopped down into the chairs in front of the Captain’s desk. “So what are we dealing with?”
Dean filled him in on the ransom call, and the Captain leaned back in his chair, looking Dean in the eye. “You know we can’t just give them the coke, Detective.”
“There’s got to be something we can do. He’s calling in one hour to give us the drop instructions,” Donna said, forcing herself to remain calm. “Can we put dye packs...”
“They said no tricks. They’ll check for that. We can’t risk it.” Dean bit back, and she took a breath before trying again.
“Okay, they demanded we bring the drugs in three duffle bags. We put a tracker in them.”
The Captain spoke up. “In all probability, they’ll expect that and switch to their own bags when we make the drop.”
Dean moved forward, his forearms braced on his knees. “Okay, so we put a tracker in the coke. Let forensics open one up, put it in the middle so it can’t be seen, and seal it back up exactly like it was before. Then we can track it to their destination.” The Captain narrowed his eyes, considering, and Dean continued. “Sir,  I swear on my life I won’t let them get away with those drugs. But you have to let us do this.”
The Captain thought for a few moments before sitting upright and blowing out a loud breath. He nodded, then said reluctantly, “Okay, I’ll sign the order. I’m holding you to your word.”
Dean closed his eyes for a moment, breathing a sigh of relief. “We won’t let you down, Cap.”
The older man’s words followed them out the door. “You damn well better not.”
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Jordan looked up as the door rattled, then swung inward. Her captor knelt down in front of her, setting a bottle of water nearby. “Lean up, I’ll cut your hands loose. Can’t do anything in here, anyway.”
She did as she was told, relieved to be able to move her arms, and gratefully accepted the water. “Thanks,” she muttered grudgingly, and he moved over to set water down near her fellow prisoner. “She needs a doctor, you know.”
He rose to his feet and turned, moving back towards the door. “After I have my property, she can see all the doctors she wants.”
Megan looked down at the bottle, shaking her head as the door closed and locked again. “And how the hell does he think I’m gonna open this?”
Jordan stood up, stretching her aching shoulders, and walked over, kneeling down to open the bottle. Megan’s face looked flushed, her eyes glazed over a little, and Jordan laid a hand on her forehead. “You’re feverish. Maybe they’ll at least give us some aspirin.”
Megan huffed out a sarcastic laugh. “Don’t count on it.”
Jordan went to the door and pounded, shouting. “Hey! Anybody out there? Can we get some aspirin?”
A loud bang on the other side of the door startled her back a step. “Shut the fuck up in there! Be glad you got water.”
Megan gave her a half-smile. “Told you. But thanks for trying.”
“Assholes,” Jordan said under her breath, stripping off the button-down she was wearing over her tank top and kneeling back down in front of Megan.
“What the hell are you doing?” she asked, watching Jordan fold and re-fold the shirt until she was satisfied with the results.
“You have to be exhausted trying to hold your arm like that. I thought maybe a sling would help.” She carefully slipped the makeshift sling under Megan’s injured forearm, taking the sleeves behind her neck and tying them into a knot. The girl sighed with relief as she relaxed her shoulder, letting the shirt cradle her arm.
“Thank you.” Jordan smiled at her and headed back to her spot against the wall.
“You’re welcome.”
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Dean ended his call and stuffed his phone back into his pocket, turning to Donna. “Sam’s out of surgery, everything’s good.”
His partner sighed with relief and smiled. “Thank God. One of the guys from forensics just finished up with the tracker. Everything’s ready to go.”
As if on cue, Dean’s phone rang, and he grabbed it from his pocket, nodding towards the tech who would be trying to trace the call. When the officer signaled, Dean answered. “Yeah.”
“I assume that you’ve got my coke ready to deliver?”
“Yeah. Just tell me where and when so we can get this over with.” The man rattled off an address, and Dean repeated it. “I want to talk to Jordan. Make sure she’s still okay.”
“No more time for socializing right now. She’s fine. You’ll just have to trust me.”
“Like hell I will.”
“You don’t have a choice. Meet me at that address in 45 minutes, come alone, and I’ll give you her location so you can have a nice, long chat with your girl.” The call ended abruptly, and Dean swore, his teeth clenched together in frustrated anger.
Donna put a hand on his shoulder. “Hey. We’re gonna nail these bastards.”
He took a breath, his expression taut and determined. “Fuckin’ right. And she’d better be okay, or I swear to God...”
“She’ll be okay. She’s smart, and she’s tough, and you’re gonna get her back.”
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Dean pulled into the parking lot, eyes scanning the area. “You can still hear me?” he asked, and a tinny affirmative reply came through his earpiece. Donna and two other squad cars were parked a couple of blocks away, and the SWAT van was another block over and north, their tracking equipment set up to follow the cocaine after the drop.
A dark, nondescript SUV pulled into the lot and parked a couple of car lengths away. Dean exited the car, tugging his vest down and taking a couple of steps to the front of the car. His contact climbed out of his vehicle, mask in place, moving forward a few steps and then taking a wide-legged stance, his arms folded over his chest. “Okay, let’s get this party started.” Dean nodded, opening the trunk and grabbing the bags, walking forward until the man shouted for him to stop. “Drop the bags right there.”
“Where is she?” Dean responded, still holding them, challenge in his eyes.
“When we conclude our business, I’ll tell you. Now drop the bags.”
He did as he was told, muttering under his breath, “I’m gonna kill this fucker.”
Donna’s voice came back, “No, you’re not. Just take a breath, partner.”
At a motion from the man in charge, a couple of masked men exited the vehicle, empty duffle bags in hand. They knelt on the ground and began to transfer the cocaine to their own bags, and Dean walked back to close the trunk on his cruiser. “What’s the matter, don’t trust me?”
“Oh, come on, Detective. Like I don’t know they’d put some kind of tracker in those bags. I don’t blame you, don’t worry. I’m sure your commanding officer insisted.” His men finished loading the coke and retreated back to the SUV, tossing their prize into the back before getting back inside. The driver pulled a phone from his pocket, dialing and speaking a few quiet words before looking towards Dean and speaking.
“All right. Well done, Detective. You’ll find your little spitfire in a storage building two blocks north of here.” Dean moved quickly towards his door, but the man called out again. “Also, you have a choice – you can have your backup try to follow us – or you can get to that storage building and save those girls. Seems a fire got started in there somehow. Your choice. Better hurry, though.”
Dean was in his car, engine roaring to life, as he spoke to Donna. “Did you hear that? Meet me there, let SWAT track the coke!”
“You got it!” the answer came back, and Dean squealed the tires, heading north.  His foot to the floor, his eyes scanned frantically for smoke as he approached the two-block area, and he screeched to a halt in front of the building, smoke already pouring from a broken window on the side. His backup pulled in a few seconds later as he reached the door, placing a palm against it to test for heat.
“Bring the battering ram!” He shouted, knowing it was futile to try to kick in the steel-reinforced door, and two officers came at a run with the tool in hand. “Call fire!” he shouted over his shoulder as the third slam into the door sent it flying inward, the frame splintering. Donna and two other officers entered right behind him, skirting the fire and searching the building.
Dean headed straight for the closet, hearing Jordan pounding on the door and calling out. “Help! We’re in here!”
“Stand back from the door!” he shouted, waited a few seconds, and let the battering ram do its work. “Jordan!” He rushed into the room, letting his relief wash over him for a split second before taking her arm and shoving her towards an officer. “Get her out of here!”
“Dean! Megan needs help, she’s sick, and her arm is broken,” Jordan called out to him, then let the officer lead her out.
He nodded, heading Megan’s direction. “Okay, Megan, I’m just going to pick you up and carry you out. Can you get your good arm around my neck?” The girl nodded, and Dean bent to pick her up, as careful as he could be not to jostle her arm.
Fire and Rescue were just pulling in, and Dean carried Megan directly to the ambulance, waiting for the EMTs to ready the gurney before laying her down. “You okay?” he asked, and she nodded, and he stepped back to allow the paramedics to do their job. He turned, eyes searching until he spotted Jordan being hugged by Donna, and in a few long strides, he was there, pulling her into his arms.
He held her tight, letting her sob softly into his chest until she quieted down. “Thank you,” she whispered as he pulled back, looking down into her eyes. He touched her face, barely brushing over her bruised jaw and gently touching the cut over her eyebrow, beautifully framing her black eye.
“Got quite a shiner, there,” he said, and she nodded, wincing.
“Yeah, they, uh – they slammed my head into the steering wheel.”
He pressed a soft kiss to her lips. “Baby, I’m so sorry.”
“Not your fault. Sam...”
“Sam’s okay. He’s out of surgery, he’ll be fine, hospital called me.” Another ambulance pulled in, and he brushed his knuckles over her uninjured cheek. “I’m sorry, Jordan, but you need to go in and get checked out.” She looked into his eyes, watching the guilty struggle there, and put her hand over his.
“Dean – go. Catch those assholes. They’ll take care of me.”
After a moment’s pause, he finally nodded. “Okay. Let’s get you in the ambulance, then Donna and I will go help SWAT take out the trash.”
Chapter 9
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batfam-rewrites · 3 years
Text
Batfam During Quarantine: Retirement
Dick pulls up in front of the apartment that Barbara and her family lives in. He takes out his boom box and sets in a cassette tape. He sets the volume to the maximum setting. He holds the boom box over his head as Peter Gabriel’s “In Your Eyes” starts playing.
Dick: BABS!!!!
He waits out there for a few minutes until she opens up the window and leans out of it.
Barbara: You Dick!
The song ends and starts playing “I Don’t Want To Miss A Thing” from Aerosmith.
Dick: BABS! I LOVE YOU SO MUCH! PLEASE TALK TO ME!
Neighbor 1: GO HOME!
Dick: I’M DOING THIS FOR LOVE!
Neighbor 2: LOVE IS DEAD YOU SCHMUCK!
Dick: YOU’RE HEART IS DEAD!
Neighbor 3: SHUT THE FUCK UP KID!
Jim Gordon: DICK, IT IS 5 AM! GO THE FUCK HOME!
Dick: FINE!
The next night
Dick walks up to the door to the Gordon family’s apartment. He knocks on the door and Jim opens the door.
Dick: Hey Jim, I was sorta expecting Babs to open the door.
Jim: *looks at the cards in Dick’s hands* Just take a hint kid. You’re making this harder than it needs to be.
Dick: I’m persistent, it’s part of my charm.
Jim: Whatever. *shuts the door*
A minute late Barbara opens the door.
Dick: *holding the cards*
Barbara: They’re facing you.
Dick: *looks down and flips the cards around* “Babs, I know I messed things up by *flips the card* not telling you Helena was staying at the *flips the card* mansion. I want you to know that you are *flips the card*
Barbara: *shuts the door on Dick*
Dick: I still have twenty-something cards left. At least finish reading them.
Two days later at the grocery store
Barbara is walking down the aisle looking for food. The music playing over the speakers as a voice replaces the music.
Dick: You’re just to good to be true. Can’t take my eyes off of you. You'd be like Heaven to touch. I wanna hold you so much. 
Barbara starts looking around the store for Dick and sees him leaning against a wall with one of the phones.
Dick: *notices Barbara and points to hear and then makes a heart with his hands* At long last, love has arrived. And I thank God I'm alive. You're just too good to be true. Can't take my eyes off of you. *plays the instrumental part on his phone*
A store employee now spots Dick and heads towards him.
Dick: I love you, baby. And if it's quite alright. *struggles to keep possession of the phone* Get away, you’ll sing next. I need you baby *still fighting for the phone* To warm the lonely night. *starts climbing between the wall and the refrigerated section* I love you, baby. Trust in me when I say.
Barbara starts walking away embarrassed.
Dick: Oh, pretty baby, wait Babs, where you going? Babs? Babs? BAAABBS! LET ME ME LOVE YOUUUUU!
Daily Briefing
Dick: Okay, while things are a bit peaceful now, they’re not going to stay that way forever. Let’s try to plan ahead now and see if we can recruit any former members of Batman Inc. Tim, Steph, and Duke, you guys need to try and convince Luke to come out of retirement. Kate and Babs you go try and convince Bette to join us in Gotham.
Jason: What are the rest of us doing?
Dick: Selina, Jason, Harper, Cass, and Damian will patrol and hand out mask later today....
Harper: Cool, glad I can finally do something!
Jason: Got it!
Dick: And I will be sulking in my room!
Damian: Try again, Grayson.
Dick: I will be on patrol and handing out mask as Nightwing! Julia will be on monitor duty and Helena, tonight you’ll be on sanitation duty.
Helena: *sexually* Whatever you say.
Selina: Oh god!
Duke: Please stop!
Tim: There is a child present!
Jason: *Laughs hysterically* Am I the only one who still thinks this is funny?
Stephanie: Apparently so!
Dick: Alright, let’s get moving.
Tim, Duke, Stephanie, and Luke
Tim: Damn, it’s nice to finally be out of the mansion!
Duke: We were on patrol almost every night.
Tim: Yeah, but as Red Robin, not Tim Drake.
Stephanie: I mean, I guess that’s true.
Tim: *knocks on the door* 
Luke: *opens the door* Hey guys, it’s been a while!
Tim: Hey Luke, how have you been!
Luke: Not bad, Tim! What about you guys?
Tim: Could be better!
Stephanie: Not bad!
Duke: Send help!
Luke: Their dysfunction has gotten to you I’m assuming?
Duke: Maybe.
Tim and Stephanie: We’re not dysfunctional!!!
Luke: Relax! I’m talking about the others.
Tim: Kay, coolcoolcool.
Stephanie: Yeah, the others are pretty dysfunctional.
Luke: Anyways, come on in guys. Take a seat in the living room.
All three walk in and sit in the living room.
Tim: Okay I’m going to cut straight to the point, things aren’t going to be so peaceful for so long. It’s only a matter of time until the Joker pops up with a futuristic Batsuit or some dude comes in with a plan to destroy Batman in multiple ways.
Luke: I’m not coming out of retirement, Tim.
Stephanie: Why not?
Luke: Because I can’t stand to go back being some vigilante trying to save the city. I mean don’t you guys get tired of feeling like the weight of this city is pressing down on you every time you put on that mask.
Tim: Yeah, but I mean it’s not that bad.
Luke: When was the last time you slept.
Tim: Like 6 hours. Plus 2 days.
Luke: That’s my point! This is a thankless job that you guys work your ass off for.
Duke: Yeah coming here may have been a mistake. Let’s go guys, Luke’s not coming back.
Stephanie: Why not stay here Duke. I mean, Luke is right. We risk our lives to save some fucks who don’t give two shits whether we live or die. Sure they’d be sad if we did, but they would only be sad because that would mean they’d have to actually defend themselves!
Tim: Yeah, that is a great point!
Stephanie: Woooo let’s get hammered, this is my retirement party fuckers!
Luke: You’re not drinking alcohol! You’re under age!
Stephanie: Whatever! *stands up and walks out the door*
Duke: Tim, let’s go!
Tim: Yeah, I mean it’s probably about time I retired too!
Duke: Damn it!
Damian and Jon
Damian sets up a zoom call with Jon
Damian: Hey, Kent.
Jon: Hey, Wayne.
Damian: Why must you mock me?
Jon: Why must you mock me?
Damian: Goodbye!
Jon: No, wait, I want attention!!!!
Damian: Works like a charm. How’s it going over there?
Jon: Not bad, it’s super boring. I wish I had 50 people staying at my place.
Damian: No you don’t! It is awful. I want to punch Drake constantly, Grayson is always trying to hand out hugs, Todd tried to kill me!
Jon: The hugs don’t sound....
Damian: Row turned my knife into an electric razor...
Jon: How...
Damian: Kyle keeps trying to bond with me, Cain tried to stab me because I stole a waffle from her, Bertinelli and her lust for Grayson is annoying! Honestly, Pennyworth and Thomas are the only ones who haven’t managed to piss me off.
Jon: You know what, I take back what I said earlier.
Damian: Wise choice.
Jon: Hey, remember the time your dad almost adopted me?
Jason: *talking in the hallway*
Damian: That was funny. Hey I got to go, I’m about to go on patrol.
Jon: During the day, I thought you guys were nocturnal.
Damian: No, we are not. We’ll talk later.
Jon: See ya!
Damian: Bye. *rushes to the door to see if he could hear Jason*
Jason: I’ll see you there. *walks off*
Damian: *walks out of his room and sees Selina* 
Selina: Hey Dami, you ready to go on patrol?
Damian: Actually, we have a change in plans.
Nightwing
Nightwing: *sees a kid walking by without a mask, he squats down and waves* Hey what’s up little dude!
Little kid: *runs away from parents and hugs Nightwing*
Parent: Hey! Sorry, we’re still trying to get him to understand what social distancing is.
Nightwing: It’s okay, he’s young, he’ll eventually get the idea. I see that someone lost their mask though! Do you like super heroes kiddo!
Little kid: *nods excitedly* Batgirl is my favorite!
Nightwing: Really! Batgirl is my favorite, too! Hey, let’s get you another mask buddy! *reaches into the box of mask he has and hands a Batgirl mask to the parent to put on the kid’s face*
Parent: Thank you so much! *puts the mask on the little kids face*
Nightwing: No problem! Stay safe! *waits a bit longer and puts in an earbud*
Nightwing: *sees another guy not wearing a mask* Hey, how about we wear a mask buddy!
Guy: Piss off!
Nightwing: Come on. Let’s try to think about everyone else.
Guy: Who cares! If I get the virus I won’t die! It’s only the old people who are dying! 
Nightwing: Okay, please tell me your joking.
Guy: I mean, you don’t really see much other people dying.
Nightwing: If you pay attention to the statistics you would see that there are other people who are 20, 30, 40 years old and dying from this virus! Can you just put the mask on?
Guy: Hell no, it’s uncomfortable for me!
Nightwing: UNCOMFORTABLE FOR YOU! I HAVE TO WEAR ONE FOR LEGIT MOST OF THE DAY. OUR CITIES FIRST RESPONDERS MUST WEAR ONE TO DO THEIR DAMN JOBS. NO ONE, ESPECIALLY ME OR ANY NURSE, FIREMAN, POLICE OFFICER, ET CETERA, CARES IF IT BOTHERS YOU! PUT ON THE DAMN MASK!!!
Guy: Damn. *starts walking away*
Nightwing: *grabs cologne* Sir, don’t make me do this.
Guy: Do what? Bit......
Nightwing: *sprays cologne all over the guys face*
Guy: pffft. pfffffftt. 
Nightwing: I bet you’d like a mask now!
Guy: YOU FUCKING SON OF A
Nightwing: *spays the cologne at his face again* Hey! *throws a mask at the guy* No profanity! There’s kids around. Put on the mask, too. 
Guy: *puts the mask on reluctantly and walks away* Stupid vigilante in this stupid damn city. Hate this damn place.
Nightwing: *watches him walk away for a bit* Never thought I’d take a page out of Jay’s book.
Julia: Nightwing, need you over in Gotham Heights. There’s a.... *clears throat*..... situation over there. I’m sending you the coordinates now.
Nightwing: On my way! *takes off firing the grappling hook into the side of a building as he takes off*
Jason
Jason walks towards the house, checking his surroundings to see if any of his “family” members followed him. Fortunate for him, Dick is preoccupied with his thoughts and Damian and Selina left after he did.
He opens the door and walks inside of his safe house. He then sits down, takes off his helmet, sets it down on the table, and turns on the tv to watch Supernatural. Not long after Roy walks downstairs.
Roy: What’s up Jaybird?
Jason: Not much Roy.
Roy then sits down on the couch next to him to watch with him.
Roy: Is it just me or would Jensen Ackles be the perfect person to play you if there was to ever be a movie about you?
Jason: I KNOW, RIGHT!!!! Hey do you want to order some pizza?
Roy: Sure!
Roy begins to pull out his phone when they hear a knock at the door.
Jason: Hide! 
Roy: Hey it’s my safe house, too!
Jason: It’s my city! Hide!
Roy begins to hide as Jason looks outside the door to see Damian and Selina outside the door. 
Jason: *opens the door* Hey Catwoman, Robin! What are you guys doing here?
Damian: More importantly, what are you doing here?
Jason: Following up on a lead. I saw a very shady guy leave here so I’m looking for some evidence.
Selina: Are those your guns on the counter? And your helmet and phone on the table?
Jason: No.
Damian: Then where’s your guns?
Jason: Okay, I hate to admit it, but I came across a dog and decided to pet it, then it bit the barrel of both guns and ran off.
Selina: Mmmmhhhmmmm and why don’t I believe you?
Jason: Because everyone but Duke has trust issues.
Damian: Give it up, Todd.
Jason: Give what up?
Damian: *walks over to the closet and opens the door*
Roy: Woah, how the hell did I get here!
Jason: *shakes his head*
Tim, Duke, Stephanie, and Luke
Duke: Dude, you broke Tim and Steph.
Luke: No I didn’t!
Duke: Really because we came here to try and convince you to be Batwing again and yet you somehow got them both to decide to retire!
Luke: So, they should! They deserve it. No kid should have to deal with that kind of stress!
Duke: Dude, we live in Gotham freaking City. Stress is literally stuff we learn in 6th grade because our parents need us to get jobs!
Luke: You had to get a job in 6th grade?
Duke: Oh right, sorry I forgot you all are rich! Hey, where’s Steph and Tim?
Luke: Outside somewhere.
Duke: DUDE!!!! WE HAVE TO FIND THEM!!!!!!
Luke: They’ll be fine!
Duke: Whatever. *walks towards the door* If you change your mind, you know where to call. *he walks out the door*
____
Tim: *grabs a helium tank* Hey Steph!
Stephanie: *turns around*
Tim: *pulls down the mask and inhales the helium* I am vengeance, I am the night, I am BATMAN!
Stephanie: O-M-G!!! That is amazing!
Jason, Roy, Damian, and Selina
Selina: So again, Jason, what are you doing here?
Jason: Trying to get away from you people! Do you know how often I want to shoot Dick alone from all of the stupid stuff he does! 
Damian: Yes!
Jason: You’re no better. You can not adopt stray animals every week!
Damian: They can catch the virus, too! They need a home!
Jason: They have one! In the wild somewhere!
Selina: What’s your point?
Jason: I needed a place to escape you idiots at the mansion. There’s only so much I can take before I break B’s no killing rule.
Damian: Then why is Harper here?
Roy: Jaybird has been my emotional support person since Kori left Earth for Tamaran.
Selina: I can see that.
Damian: Is this where you’ve been every single patrol?
Jason: Not every one. Only when I get sick of you all. 
Selina: Everyday!!!!
Roy: *laughs uncontrollably*
Jason: Not everyday!!! Look, this is why I need this place, because I can’t stand you fuckers!!! Get out of my house!
Damian: How did you even pay for this place?
Jason: I USED TO KILL PEOPLE FOR A LIVING!!!!
Selina: Jason, your not supposed to even be here. We need to leave now.
Jason: Yes you fucking should!
Selina: I meant all of us!
Jason: Good luck with that! You’ll have to drag me out.
Damian: Just watch us do it!
Roy: This is getting a bit personal, I’m gunna grab my bow and leave.
Jason: Stay Roy!
Roy: Okay, I’ll stay!
Selina: How are we so awful? What is it that we do that bothers you so much?
Jason: I don’t want to talk about it!
Selina: What is it?
Jason: You guys make me want to actually be a part of the family! You guys care for me, and make fun of me *starts crying* and make me laugh, and it’s not fucking fair!
Selina: Jason..... I’m.... I’m sorry. Why are you crying?
Jason: Because this shit has always been unfamiliar to me! Family has always been fucked up for me before Bruce. When he took me in I didn’t know how to feel because at that point my life was filled with rage, sadness, and confusion. *sits down on the couch* Then came in Dick, who at first made me feel at home with how much he hated the fact that I replaced him, until a few months go by for him to accept me as a brother he never had. Then I fuckin’ died!
Selina: *sits down next to Jason* It’s okay if you want some time away from us, I understand now that this is new. We won’t ever stop loving you Jason. If you ever need a break from us then I’ll cover for you, just don’t be out for too long.
Jason: Thanks Selina.
Roy: *starts humming Love Is A Battlefield*
Selina: Are you humming Love Is A Battlefield?
Jason: He is so humming Pat Benatar right now.
Roy: No, you’re all just hearing things.
Damian: Who’s Pat Benatar?
Jason: Okay, GET OUT!!!!
Selina: *rushes themselves out the door* Let’s go Dami, we’ve overstayed our welcome!
Damian: But my phone!
Roy and Jason: GET OUT!
Tim and Stephanie
Stephanie: *dancing in a strangers house* Woooo!!!
Tim: *break dancing to “Dirrty” in the middle of a dance circle*
Stephanie: *nudges the person next to her* I’m friends with that guy!
Stranger: Nice!
Stephanie: I know right!
Tim: *steps out of the dance circle* Hey!
Stephanie: How many Red Bulls did you have?
Tim: How many legs does a wolf-tigark have.
Stephanie: What!
Tim: I’m super fucked up!
Stephanie: Same! Wanna have sex?
Tim: Sure!
Duke, Cassandra, and Harper
Duke: Hey, Harper! Do you remember that time you were totally surrounded by the Riddler’s henchmen and I swooped in and saved you, and you were like “Thanks dude! You’re the best! I totally owe you one!”
Harper: Yes, I remember part of that being true!
Duke: Well, I need you to return that favor and you can not tell any of the others. I lost Tim and Stephanie and need help finding them.
Harper: What the hell Duke! How did this happen?
Duke: Well, Luke broke Tim and Steph, causing them to decide to retire, then they disappeared.
Harper: Okay, Orphan and I will be right there after we take down these two drug dealing pimps!
Duke: Thank you!
Harper: *hangs up the phone* Okay, let’s take care of this Orphan!
They both jump down landing a kick to their chest. Harper then grabbed her dudes arm and broke his wrist, finally stomping on his face, knocking the dude out. Cass walked towards her guy reaching down and throwing him against a wall, then kicking his back.
Nightwing
Nightwing: *arrives at the apartment door*
Boyfriend: YOU STUPID BITCH! WHY CAN’T YOU DO ANYTHING RIGHT! 
Girlfriend: *through tears* I’m sorry!
Boyfriend: *slaps the girlfriend* SHUT UP BITCH!
Nightwing: *knocks on the door*
Boyfriend: *opens door* Can I help you?
Nightwing: Yes hi. I was walking around the neighborhood and wanted to know if you wanted to donate to the charity of whoop-ass?
Boyfriend: Not interested. *tries to close the door*
Nightwing: *pushes the door open* Hold on, you need to hear the rest of my pitch! *kicks the boyfriend in the chest* 
Girlfriend: *still crying* NO! PLEASE STOP!
Nightwing: Wha-
Boyfriend: *tries to throws a few punch at Nightwing’s face*
Nightwing: *drops to the floor and goes for a flare, sweeping the boyfriend off his feet*
The sound of sirens is heard out side.
Nightwing: *temporarily distracted by the sirens*
Boyfriend: *gets up* YOU CALLED THE COPS! YOU UNGRATEFUL GOOD FOR NOTHING BITCH! *tries to punch his girlfriend*
Nightwing: *catches his fist* Not gunna happen. *tosses the boyfriend against the wall and has him put his hands over his head*
Police Officer: G-C-P-D! GET YOUR..... Oh, Nightwing? How random seeing one of you guys here. Like always. *goes in to arrest the boyfriend*
Nightwing: *kneels down to where the girlfriend is sitting and takes note of the cuts and marks on her arms* Are you okay?
Girlfriend: I-*sob* I don’t *sob* know what *sob* I did *sob* wrong?
Nightwing: You did nothing wrong. Everything will be okay. Did he hit you?
Girlfriend: *nods her head yes*
Nightwing: Where did he hit you?
Girlfriend: *looks up to reveal a black eye and cuts on her face* My *sob* face, arms *sob*, stomach. *buries her head in her arms and starts to cry even harder*
Nightwing: Hey, it’s going to be okay. It’s all going to be okay. 
Nightwing tries the best he can to comfort the girl before the EMT arrived. After that he stuck around for a bit to give a statement of what happened when he arrived and to make sure everything was fine before he left.
Duke, Stephanie, Tim, Harper, and Cassandra
Stephanie: *wakes up* Ugh. My head! *she looks over at Tim and smiles as she gets out of the bed*
Tim: *starts to wake* Ow! *sees Stephanie* Hey!
Stephanie: Hey! 
Tim: *sits up on the bed*
Stephanie: Look about what happened, can we agree it was a drunk mistake.
Tim: Yeah! *rubs the back of his head and stands up close to Stephanie* I’m sorry, I can’t pretend! *he pulls her in and kisses her* I really like you!
Stephanie: I like you, too.
Tim: Wanna crawl back under the covers again for a bit?
Stephanie: Absolutely!
____
Desk Clerk: Thank you, hope you enjoyed your stay!
Tim: We certainly did, thank you! *both Stephanie and Tim walk out the door and see Duke, Cassandra, and Harper* 
Stephanie: Hey, you found us!
Duke: Get in the car!
Harper: Spent most of the night looking for you suckers until we saw that Tim used his credit card to purchase a hotel room there! 
Tim: We’re sorry you had to go searching for us!
Duke: Also, if you are even still thinking about retiring, you’re going to have to tell Bruce yourself.
Stephanie: We’re not retiring. We probably just thought it was a good idea because we were both sleep deprived.
Duke: Good, because I didn’t want to see Bruce lose his shit!
Dick and Julia/Dick and Jason
Back at the Batcave
Julia: How did it go?
Dick: Rough. That building was well into Harper’s sector though, why did you have me take care of it?
Julia: I think you know why.
Dick: *thinks for a moment* Because of the way I’ve been reacting to my breakup with Bab’s.
Julia: If you stopped thinking of how to win her back for one second, you would see that she is most likely suffering as much as you are. 
Dick: I understand. I’m going to head upstairs. Don’t stay down here much longer, that’s an order.
Julia: Are you still entitled to give orders?
Dick: I still get to wear the cowl, don’t I?
Julia: Fair enough.
Dick quickly showers and heads upstairs.
Jason: Hey, Dickwad. Over here.
Dick: Sup, Jay?
Jason: Follow me.
Jason leads Dick to the parking garage and into one of Bruce’s cars and drives to the safe house.
Jason: Welcome, to the safe house. I heard you had a rough day so I thought it would be worth it to take you here. Wayne house free zone so feel free to cry, let out your feeling, whatever you need to do to process this. I’ll wait in the car.
Dick: *crying* Jay.
Jason: Yeah.
Dick: *hugs Jason* Thank you!
Jason: No problem. If you tell Bruce, I will end you though.
Dick: Got it!
While I try to make these stories for the most part humorous and entertaining, domestic violence is a very serious topic. Since quarantine, domestic violence rates have gone up. If you or some one you know is in an abusive relationship or has found themselves in one since quarantine began, don’t hesitate to call the Domestic Violence Support hotline at 1 (800) 799 7233. You can also go to thehotline.org to contact them.
If someone you know has just left an abusive relationship (boyfriend/girlfriend, husband/wife, parent/child) remember to be there for them. Allow them to talk but don’t force them too if they don’t want to. Make sure not to bash the guilty party and respond about them neutrally. Most of all, make sure to let them know that they are still loved, and that they are still the same person, even if they feel that they are not.
I will be reblogging this message on my blog. I ask you to please share and reblog as much as you can.
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orionlakehastodie · 3 years
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Villainholics Anonymous
"It's the height." This was from Alina, their newest member.
"No. I still say it's the hair." This from Brienne. The only blonde one.
"It's the cocky ass way they smile." This from Lily Potter - the vice president.
"And do they all have to be so bloody handsome? Like if villain why hot?" Rey. And her age old problem.
"Admit it ladies. It's their dicks. Their gloriously large and thick dicks." Lizzie Bennet. The president of this club.
There were choruses of assent from all the women - all who had their unable to walk days in various stages of soreness. Today was Lizzie's turn. Fitzwilliam Darcy the menace had been particularly eager the night before.
The Villainholics Anonymous was officially in session to annoint their newest member - Alina Starkov.
"Alright, now we have to hear from our newest member. Alina, you have the floor." Lizzie took advantage of the silence before Rey can wax poetic about Ben's face when sunlight hits it when she watches him sleep in the mornings, or before Lily can sing praises about her husband always getting up to change Harry's nappies and how can a villain be that adorable.
Alina cleared her throat and sighed. "My name is Alina Starkov and I'm a villainholic."
"Hi, Alina." Chorused the other women in sympathy.
"It all started when he pushed up my sleeve and got into my face going all 'what are you' in his hot, deep voice with that accent."
Alina's eyes glaze over and Brienne nods in sympathy.
"It's like they tell you you're the ugliest woman they've ever seen but they're like stripping you naked with their eyes and they love what they see? It's like... turning you on?" Brienne squirms in her chair, subtle smile on her lips.
"Or you know they tell you 'I can take whatever I want' in that annoyingly Disney prince charming handsome face and you're all tied up and you're just thinking damn if I get those plush lips you can take whatever you want and more-"
"Yes Rey, we know. Ben Solo has a face carved by angels and wept over by poets - let Alina speak!" Rey shot Lizzie of disdain before sighing and turning to the large framed photo of a shirtless Ben Solo she kept at her side during these meetings for "emotional support".
Lizzie clears her throat and turns back to Alina. "Do go on, Alina."
"And then he comes and cuts a man in half. And I have blood and gore all over my face but he sweeps over in his ridiculous black cape-"
"Ah yes. It's always the cape." Lizzie smiles, remembering her husband walking through a moor.
"Whatever Lizzie - Darth Darcy is better than Darcy! My husband made that shit fashion." Rey sticks her tongue out at Lizzie and she retaliates by kicking at Rey's chair.
"As I was saying!" Alina glows a little bit brighter with her ire, wanting to share more about her precious Sasha.
"He takes me up into his arms and gets me up on his horse and his chest is so big and warm around me and his arms are so muscly and I just felt like... so safe and hugged and saints when I hug him and I feel all that delicious muscle wrapped around me and I just-"
Alina pauses to fan herself, remembering Aleksander's steamy hugs and how it would lead to her naked and impaled on Aleksander's huge dick.
Lily pats her hand in sympathy and shakes her head. "They're so good at that, at looming so tall and so pretty, with the ridiculous you're mine smiles on their faces and they scramble your brain with their yummy glorious smell and the way it feels so warm when they hold you. Like, what evil motherfucker smells like treacle and woods and comfort?" Lily is still very angry that her amortentia just really smells James Potter amplified. How dare this man.
"Anyway you think you'd move on from them, and then bam. He invites me to all these horse back riding just him and me, and he makes me wear his black kefta."
Brienne whistles at Alina's statement. "These fuckers are good at that. Giving you marriage swords, and marriage keftas. Like - Jaime even went as far as to say it's yours, it will always be yours swords that stand in for my heart. And they look so puppy like when they give it to you and you're just like... omg I'm married. Villains. That's true villainry right there." But even as Brienne says it, she strokes Oathkeeper fondly at her hip.
Alina nods her head, wrapping her own black kefta around her. "And you know it makes you feel like it's just you and him and you don't need anyone else and the next thing you know you're sucking his face in his office, and itching to get his dick inside you."
Murmurs of sympathy from all the women.
"And how is it that a villain can kiss like that? Like they're off to go to war the next fucking day?" Alina blushes as she remembers how she was pressed down into that giant map and if Ivan did not come bother them she would have been dicked down on that map too... okay so she had been dicked down on the map. Once. Maybe twice. Okay maybe once every week.
Rey sniffs and brings out Ben's sweater than she uses to wipe her tears. Lily groans in disgust.
"Rey, honestly that sweater is nasty."
Rey glares at Lily and looks down at her worn quidditch jersey with Potter 01 emblazoned at the back.
"You're one to talk Lily. Anyway. I totally understand Alina, like they kiss you and suck your soul out and make you wonder if they can kiss your pussy the same way they kiss your lips and then they fade away, into the Force, before you can ride that large dick."
Brienne throws a popcorn at Rey. "Don't be such a drama queen Rey. You brought back that fuckable redwood you call a husband from the world between worlds and rode that dick into the sunset after. Mine died in a random as fuck explosion."
Lizzie scoffs at Brienne's words. "And you clobbered Dumb and Dumber in the head and rewrote Jaime back as the rightful heir of Casterly Rock and rode that dick into the sunset."
Brienne rolls her eyes. "Not everyone can have a happy ending walking in the morning mist to kiss me and propose marriage. Some of us had to correct the writing of dumb men. Be thankful a smart woman wrote yours, Lizzie."
Rey nods in sympathy. And Alina clears her throat. This was her Sasha's time to shine. These women.
"Anyway, then after they kiss you like that, you find out they're evil and then they try and kill your friend - as if you want any other dick than their villain dick - but even their jealousy is so hot and so you pretend they're evil, but then you get this weird bond connection thing and suddenly he can just appear in your room like that. I mean, they're already so hot - then they appear heartbroken and pining after you and pretending they hate you but they're just like softboi TM and the next thing you know you're naked and making inappropriate use of the Force Bond."
Alina stops and fans herself, remembering just how inappropriate she and Aleksander have been through the bond, how full of him she was afterwards she leaked him out throughout the day-
"It's them always showering when the bond connects!" Rey's exclamation brought her out of her reverie.
"Like, is he just always showering 24/7 to let me see his beautiful tiddies? And like, am I supposed to not strip and lick them tiddies when I see them? It's like the Force Bond is designed so we can feel bad for the villain and fuck them senseless. Again - if villain why so fucking hot?"
Alina nods in sympathy as Rey is currently sitting on an ice pack because Ben had ridden her vagina sore. It's the damned bond sex. Those always go haywire.
"And then... they become the selfless idiot TM, deciding to let themselves be stabbed in the heart and tells you they're human with you and then when they get resurrected do they get back with you?"
Alina and Rey clutch each other ugly tears pouring and Brienne nods with them, tears pouring from her eyes.
"No. No they bloody don't the wankers. They ride off into a war and get killed by rubble!" Brienne slams her fist on the table and takes a deep swig of her butterbeer.
"They become one with the Force after kissing you senseless and making you feel like you're home!" Rey wails hugging Alina close to her.
"They get speared by a fucking tree to tie the universe back together!" Alina clutches back at Rey wiping at her eyes.
"They tell a Dark Wizard to fuck himself while telling you to save your only son!"
Lily joins the hugging ladies and drags Brienne into it as well.
Lizzie sighs and pounds on her gavel. "Ladies, ladies. Get over yourselves. Your men are back with you - Brienne - Jaime is at Casterly Rock because he said fuck that to riding back to Cersei and stayed with you. Rey, Ben is probably grumbling his way through another Republic meeting because he also said fuck that to becoming one with the Force and crawled back to you. And Alina - sweetheart, Aleksander is out of the tree - because he said fuck that to not being with you. We're here to make sure Alina finds her husband hot because he's now reformed. We don't like hot villains!"
The ladies gathered themselves and Alina wipes her tears and flushes.
"So... anyway, two days ago, Sasha came back from a peace talk with Fjerda, and he was really angry because we just got intelligence about Parem. And he said... we should have kept the Fold so he can just kill them all... and... and I found it so hot, so I... I stripped him naked right then and there in the war room and sucked him dry."
Sympathetic grumbles came out from the other ladies.
"Don't worry Alina, we're all here to get this temptation out of you - but I get it. Villains are hot. Sometimes I make Ben wear the mask..." Rey wipes her tears and sighs dreamily and Lily clears her throat.
"Rey-"
Rey blinks and shakes her head. "Right, right, villains are not hot."
"Alina," Lizzie begins but her phone started buzzing. She peeks at it and her eyes widen, and a familiar flush takes over her face. Brienne catches sight of it and smirks.
"Darcy calling you inferior of birth again, Liz?"
Lily grabs Lizzie's phone and giggles. "Darcy got himself in a lake and wondering when dear Lizzie is coming home."
Rey snickers. "I'm betting it's now."
"Shut up you lot, anyway Alina-"
But Alina was already packing up her bags. "Alina?"
"Sorry. Aleksander just came back from Grisha training - and he said if I'm not home in 30 minutes he'll take all that I hold dear so I only have him. I'm gonna get railed. See you guys next week."
She was out the door in a minute flat and Brienne laughs.
"Remind me, why do we do this again? Last week Rey got called home by Ben who said she was his sweet nothing and she came to the meeting today sitting on a vagina pack."
Lizzie merely rolls her eyes and stands up too. "Well, where else can we brag about having tall, hot loving husbands with big dicks who challenge us mentally and love us for challenging them back? I'll see you girls, I bought more of those vagina ice bags, sounds like we'll all need them."
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I Thought You Should Know 2
Part 2.
Part 1 HERE.
Notes in part 1.
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Before:
This time when Superman caught you he held you close and wrapped his arms around you before flying away with you clinging to him and crying because you couldn't hold it in anymore.
Awareness came with a background of arguing and a sinfully - sinfully - soft mattress. Tugging the blankets up and over your head you snuggle into your pillow and doze.
    You've grown up with yelling and lived in places that were noise 24/7 and presumed the arguing was the neighbors. A quiet falls over your cocoon and it hits you... your hotel room had a  mattress that was as stiff as plywood. 
    The bed dips and you tug the sheet down from your face and take in the warm tangerine color walls, dark wood molding and the bedside table was a rustic style piece of furniture. Turning over you're startled to find Clark Kent standing with a tray of food but more surprising was the man sitting on the bed in a sharp charcoal suit. 
    Curious, you lift the blanket and peer down at yourself.  You were wearing your underwear... you guess it was bettered than being naked. "Rest assured Miss ****, your virtue is safe."
    "Lex!" Snapped Clark with a glare before he turned to you and floundered for what to say before pushing the tray out, "Coffee?"
    "What happened?" Your brain felt muffled and you can remember bits and pieces and jumping off a ledge... "Shit, did I try to kill myself again?" You sit up and the blankets pool at you waist uncaring of your bra that was all lace and completely inappropriate for your type of job. 
    "Again?" The tray is set down on a bedside table and Clark was crawling to you, grabbing your arms, checking your bare wrists, as if he hadn't seen them before you were tucked in half-naked. "**** we talked about this."
    "Settle down." Lex heaved himself up with a sigh and peered down at the two of you, "Clark brought you here, you were hysterical and I gave you a sedative and while you were high out of your mind you chose my,"
    "Our." Clark snapped but the other man continued on without missing a beat.
    "Bed to make your nest. You had this loon," a finger pointed at Clark who look aghast, "Rip off your corset because, and I quote, I can't catch it rip it off. As you spun in a circle trying to reach for the laces."
    "I kind of panicked and ripped it off. Sorry." 
    "He's not sorry, he burned the thing in the fireplace."
    "Secrets Lex! Married couples know how to keep secrets!" Clark glared and you watched them bicker back and forth, lost. 
    "Can we not? As hot as it is, I'm too nauseous to join in on your makeup sex." That cut through the weird foreplay the duo had.
    "Get out." Lex tries but you ignore him as usual.
    "Here have some coffee!" Reaching for the tray Clark held onto it without strain. 
    It was a giant mug of black coffee, a small plate with an oversized croissant, little jars of jelly that was a mismatched set from various fancy hotels you knew Clark had a habit of stealing from, a bowl of yogurt topped with fruit and granola, a whole tomato, a cow shaped creamer, and a pig shaped cup with sausage sticking up. 
    "Remind me to never request breakfast in bed. You forgot silverware and cutting the dam tomato." Lex clapped his hands, "I'm off. Don't overstay your welcome and you're barred from all future events." And then he was gone. 
    "He does have a nice ass." You mumble into your coffee that was sweet and perfect. 
    "It makes up for his bad bedside manner." Then Clark is gone... and back with a spoon and knife, a knife he uses to cut your tomato. "There's a bedroom here for you." It's spoken softly and your eyes flick up to meet his then away, the croissant butter soft. "****?"
    "Hmm?"
    "I'm sorry."
    Now you remember, quite convenient when there's a knife in arms reach, "You're not." Strawberry jelly smears heavily. It's flavorful and you chewed slowly, savoring the rich taste. A sip of coffee and a your slurp breaks the silence. 
    "I am. I shouldn't have said that."
    "You thought it and you spoke it. Simple logic."
    "No."
    "You're a whore." You pick up a tomato slice, "You fucked all the girls you cheered with and you bottomed for half your fraternity." It tasted juicy, "Lois Lane wasn't your only fuck buddy at the paper and Green Lantern misses your dick something fierce." From your peripheral it was interesting how embarrassed his face colored.
    "How..."
    "Now Lex," you interrupt. "Lex is a slut but he's a slut with standards like myself. Dick pics help weed out the useless ya know." Sip, "Men - woman - don't care." Sip, "It helps when you get really lonely and you can leave. No strings, no questions." Sip, "If you speak to me that way again," your gaze meets his, "I won't need kryptonite to kill you." 
    "****..."
    "Refill please." You hand over your mug that's half filled and Clark takes it. Quietly he moves off the bed and walks out. 
    The tray is settled at your side and you manage to shuffle over to the edge and stand by the time he comes back. Meeting him part way you ignore the way his eyes rake over you, "I'm..."
    You were tired of apologies and hugged him. He was tall and you settled for wrapping your arms around his waist and hugging him tight, "Leave it."
    It's never brought up again.
    .
    The formal gala was beautiful. Lights, cameras, ice sculptures, bottles of champagne flowed as did the money for the secret auction, so secret no one was aware there was an auction.
    At least that's what the news had said.
    Lounging on a couch with a tub of ice cream your face is covered in an organic green tea mask, your body has been massaged by a last-minute goddess with hands that deserved to be preserved in the Vatican vault, and your feet was resting on Clark's lap where the man was massaging your left foot with a hand as the other hand tossed Gummi bears.
    You were horrible at catching them with your mouth but the colorful bears decorated the carpet and sofa with a certain pizazz. Elevator doors opened and expensive loafers dragged, "Why are you still here?"
    Spoon dangling from your mouth you pull it out and point it at the tired man who was being rerun on the massive television. "Did you have fun at your party?"
    "That party brought millions to Saint Jude charity foundation."
    "Uhu... and how much really..."
    Lex dismissed you to turn to his husband, "Why is she still here."
    "I'm not putting her out, you can do that." It was said matter of factly with a hint of try it, go on, I dare you.
    Oh this was good, not as good as the ice cream but good.
    "****." You blink up at the tall bald-headed man, "Leave."
    "But the make-up sex."
    You think his eye is twitching, "There is no sex!"
    A pout twitches your lips and your spoon stabs at the ice cream, "But Dom Daddy Master sex is the best sex." Beside you Clark chokes on a gummy and Lex is a thundercloud as he steps closer and closer to you until he's close enough you can smell his cologne. "See," and you glance over at the coughing man who was thumping his chest, "That's hot. You're hot, we should...."
    "Shut up!" And you shut up, sitting back. "Your jokes are not appreciated. Pack your shit and run back to your Captain America. The epitome of all that's righteous and leave..." you snort and quickly cover your nose as ice cream somehow went up there. "Me and mine alone!"
    A napkin is passed to you, "Ignore him. He saw what's in the box and is not too happy right now."
    "Couldn't you have left it behind?" Wiping your nose you take in all that was Lex Luthor and processed what he said, "Why would I run back to that asshole?" Of course Lex had bared his teeth in a very animalistic way and stormed off so you turn to the quiet second half and said, "What was in the box?"
    "A dress." His face loses trace of all humor, "The accessories are a problem, my nose is quite good and you're not that type of person to..." Clark cuts off as Lex returns and all but flings the box at you and Clark catches it and settles it on your lap while taking away your ice cream. 
    You ignore the argument that's caused by that stunt and take in the dented and dirty box that was lopsided and the tissue paper that hung half out. Clark was right, there was a dress balled up on top and you pull it out... it was a familiar dress.
    Black, shiny, skin-tight, one side would cover down the length of your thigh while the other was cut in a way to barely cover your vagina. 
    You knew this dress.
    This was a similar dress you had in your closet from ages ago. It had been the dress you met Steve Rogers in when you had worked another undercover mission as a singer in an underground club. The lights on stage would make the material nearly sheer and showed off your curves and the nipple piercings you had gotten done for the gig. 
    Well... "He knows." Or at least presumes who you are but how? Dropping the dress to the side you go through the rest of the stuff and pull out a pair of killer heels in your size, "Nope." And drop them both atop the dress. Next was a scrap of fabric that took a moment of turning it here and there to realize it was panties, "What the fuck is this?"
    Clark looks pink while Lex scowls but answers, "Thong."
    "This," you shake it like it's flag. "Wouldn't cover an ass cheek. I have a fat ass... the strings would cut across my hips and make me look like a ham hung to dry." That too was dropped and you rummaged around the jewelery, the hair extension that sat wrapped, and an empty clutch. "Stockings? It's cold, these fucker really think I would waltz around and freeze my clit off?"
    "The point was to entice me, your target, or that idiot." Confused, you glance up at the taller man. "Your choker. There's a mechanism that releases a pheromone when you get close enough to your victim. It's potent, it's an ingenious way to get me to leave and hand me over to SHIELD or attract that asshole who was there, dressed to impress and also wearing a wrist watch that had the same scent, my intel says he was hoping to use it on you if you had arrived. Fucker doesn't realize all phone calls are tapped, that was a mistake."
    Rummaging through the box you find rings, bracelets, a pair of studs for nipples - which what the fuck - but no choker. Glancing over at Clark you said, "You said your nose. How does it smell?
    "Musky. I only know about it because HYDRA is interested so they tried to use bait, young bait, to entrap my husband in a scandal. It didn't work, girl scouts don't make penthouse calls at 1am. Thankfully I was home and tossed the girl in the closet before dealing with him."
    "I could have raped that girl." 
    "Lex, no." And Clark was off the couch and crowding his husband who leaned into the embrace with a miserable face and you felt upset. Box plopped on the oddly shaped coffee table you make your way around the duo and bare foot you walk to the elevator door that opens with a soft ping and step on, finger jabbing on the button to the ground floor.
    It was a short trip of quiet, you ignore the dried and cracked gunk that was on your face and stepped out into a lobby with its shiny floor and gold accents. 
    There weren't many people about at this hour except a janitor that was windexing a window and a concierge who stood once he caught sight of you. "Ma'am!"
    "Phone?" You gesture to the old-fashioned looking thing that sits behind the desk. You knew it was a thing installed by Lex that was as private as you could get, and one that no nosey AI could hack into. An alternative option in case he was too lazy to take an elevator to the top floor.
    "I'm sorry but..."
    "Great, thanks, sit and be a good boy as mummy handles something." The man is a stuttering mess as you reach over and take it, plopping it on the high ledge. 
    "Ma'am you can't!"
    Fingers presses into small holes and drag clockwise with each number. "Phone the penthouse, I'm sure Mr. Luthor would be ecstatic over us meeting."
    The concierge, who had his hand on separate phone and was calling security faltered, "Lex Luthor?"
    You smile, green tea dust falling, but before you can utter a comment the line picks up without a greeting, "Brucie poo, remember that favor you owe me? Well I'm collecting." 
    The concierge moves away to stand with the Janitor who had been quick to call him over and tell him to keep his eyes down. Which was for the best since you were walking around in flannel that was oversized, courtesy of Clark. Switching to a different language and lowering your tone you spoke with an unamused Bruce Wayne, while not friendly with Lex, had been highly upset over the use of children as pawns.
    You weren't surprised. 
    The elevator dings and you wave at Clark who jogged to you and you were quick to say your goodbyes, "Why didn't you tell me?" Frowning at the taller man.
    "You're not here, why would we tell you?" And that, that hurt.
    The elevator doors closed and you knew you needed to do something, time was wasting.
    .
    Solid black, it matched the coal around your eyes and the contacts you had struggled to put on. Boots were comfortably strapped up to your knee and you waltzed across a manicured lawn. 
    The cameras were down.
    The dogs had been knocked out.
    Security had been scarce since a good portion had all come down with a mysterious stomach bug. You can't really protect your benefactor if you're shitting your intestines out. 
    Striding up the marble steps that led to a wrap around porch, you tried a door handle and found it locked. A laser took care of that, a nifty little thing you dropped on the ground and waltzed inside, smoke curling into the air from the burned brass and wood.
    Having had memorized the layout you strode to the kitchen, up a flight of stairs, down a hall, up another set of stairs, down another hall and to a bedroom door where you put yourself in a position that your com had instructed. Gun in hand you aim a degree left, swooped right, down center, each bullet piercing through the door and wall.
    Stopping only when your com had said so. 
    You open the door and lean against the door jamb, the bodies on the ground paving a way to a lone man pressed against the corner of a wall holding a gun.
    "Hello honey." He aims and pulls the trigger. The gun jams. "Poor baby," you stalk over. "Let mommy kiss it better."
    From a distance away Superman removes the com in his ear cutting off the scream of the HYDRA operative who had tried to set up his husband. 
    .
    Maybe if your com hadn't been knocked off and landed in a puddle of blood you would have found yourself here, in a chair, at the SHIELD headquarters. 
    Great, just great.
    The chair was uncomfortable so you chose a nice corner to lay down, cross your ankles, and try for a nap. 
    You had gotten as much as you expected from Mr. HYDRA guy which was meh. Not enough info compared to what you had but if you were honest, you weren't there for intel.
    It was just a great excuse to inflict as much pain as you could and death. 
    You hated getting your hands dirty but... yea... getting caught on the back lawn with SHIELD agents storming up to you with guns and K9 was a weird experience. 
    "****." Confirmation that Steve had a really good guess you were you. Ugh. The door closed behind him with a thump and the man strode over. "You can cut the act, I know who you are."
    You sign WHO.
    "I thought you were dead." You yawn, "I knew it was you when I heard you laugh." He pauses as if he expects you to talk. "Superman knows who you are, how do you know him?" Quiet. "Answer me." He sighs, voice changing to one of concern, one you had believed was his true self. "I miss you."
    A hand lifts and you sign QUEEN.
    "****!" 
    Middle finger, no two fingers, point in his direction.
    A hand grips your ankle and you're dragged from the wall, your other free foot hits the ground with a thump, you curl your toes - triggering a nifty backup - and out pops a short knife. Steve let's out a shout as you stabbed him in the leg, once, twice, and his arm that swings to stop you before the man let you go.
    Blood coated the ground and the super soldier stumbled back, "What the fuck ****!" The security that patted you down didn't take all your lovely toys. 
    Hopping to your feet you waved a finger at him and signed BAD BOY. The doors open and two men with guns enter, they try to get Steve to leave but he's a stubborn fuck, "Back off, I've had worse." 
    Just to fuck with him you sign, POISON.
    His eyes go wide and he stumbles out with the two guards and you're left alone once again.
    .
    The fuckery begins when the vents turn off, it takes a while for the air to get stifling and hot but you don't remove your uniform and lay on the ground sweating through your material and the pungent stench of blood has you breathing through your mouth. 
    Stubborn to death you try to ignore the nausea that roils your stomach, a migraine forms at the back of your skull, and your mouth was dry and throat parched.
    Time churns and it's hard to focus so you keep your eyes closed but it does little to help. Maybe this was it? A smile quirks your chapped lips, at least you got to stab Steve, hopefully your knife was dirty and he got an infection.
    When did you close your eyes?
    Breathing was like choking on sand and you can hear the ragged sound of you inhaling deeply and sharply. A shadow hovered above you and you felt a tug and your body lifting before dropping. It's dizzying when your head lifts upwards but thankfully you're gently settled down
    "Shit's adhered to her skin." 
    Was someone talking? No, let you sleep. Closing your eyes you hate that you're jostled as your legs are lifted and plopped on someone's knee.
    "Get me water and ice, her legs up will help with blood flow to the heart."
    Cold seeps through your uniform and the lip of a bottle entices your tongue to move and swish by swish cool water washes away the sandpaper feel of your mouth.
    "Cut it off her." You recognize that voice.
    "The first layer was easy, this is adhered to her skin." Pause, "I've seen this before Captain. You'll rip her skin off, best to wait until she regains conscious and..."
    "She's not HYDRA."
    "But you said..."
    "I know what I said, now get out!" There's a scuffle and a slam. Hands are tugging at the edges where the suit left your skin exposed. Someone had removed your boots and gloves... a sharp tug of pain at your temple reminded you you're wearing a mask that showed off your eyes and your mouth once the second layer was pulled aside. 
    "God dammit." Steve growled, "Fine! We'll do this the hard way!"
    Your fingers curl and you try to move but your legs are heavy and a prickling sensation runs up and down. Move you tell yourself but you can't.
    "All I wanted was a simple yes or no." Something cold presses against your cheek, a pointed tip digging, trying to dig, beneath the seam of material and skin. "This is your fault ****." 
    What?
    Pain causes your back to arch and your right calf to seize, you choke on a scream trying to move away from the slice of the knife as it digs under your skin and not the material but Steve has a firm grip on your chin.
    Blood seeps out and there's a swear from the man and the knife is pulled out. He ignore your whimpers of pain to move a single hand down your body. Skimming over your breasts, sides, sternum, waist, and back up to your throat, "A little less pressure eh?" The blood stained tip pops through the layer, Steve needing to push harder as the material - as thin as it was - was strong.
    The knife carefully drags downward, blood seeping from between the black material, and stills just under your bust line where your waist cincher catches the blade. "Hmm." Cutting straight down, the blade knocking through fabric and the hooks.
    The suit material was adhered to your cincher leaving your stomach bare. His free hand settled on your too warm skin, fingers tracing over the indentations left from the boning and material. 
    He tries to tug at the material but your body shifts with it, "I'll get this thing off you even if I have to skin you."
    Shouting catches his attention but Steve ignores the sound of gunfire, secure in the knowledge he was locked in. The knife veers direction and he slices down the side towards him, gripping the cincher for leverage. 
    Mid thigh Steve is startled when the door to the room flies across the room, knife jerking and slicing deep causing you to cry out, a pitiful cry. "Fuck!" Steve scrambles to cover the wound with his large hand but it does little to stop the blood.
    A hand grips into the back of his neck and tosses him as if he were a rag doll. He hits the wall leaving a crumbling indentation in the concrete. Shaking it off, Steve is prepared for a fight but once the disorientation is shaken off he manages to catch a glimpse of red before realizing he's alone.
    You're gone.
    .
    The bandage on your face and the butterfly band-aid running down your body to yet another oversized bandage at your thigh made it look as if it was bad. "I'm fine." A nurse stands idly to the side and you glance at her, "Tell him I'm fine."
    The him was Clark who was trying to take your temperature for the fifth time in the span of an hour. "You're not fine!" He also sends a look to the nurse who looks on amused, "Tell her she's not fine, a high fever is a sign of infection, God know what germs that cell had."
    "It was a clean cell." You try but Clark takes the opportunity to plop the thermometer into your mouth and you roll it under your tongue. 
    Beep.
    "It went up a degree!" 
    "For fucks sake. Lex!" You yell the other mans name.
    The phone rings at your bedside and you pick it up and hand it Clark who scowls. "Yes Dear." 
    The nurse tip toes closer to fluff your pillows as you settle back. The past few days a whirl wind of adventure. Between SHIELD putting out a warrant for you - both your identities - and fighting with Lex that no he shouldn't call a war against the organization and that you had a plan. Of course bumming it at the Luthor's meant you had a lovely nurse and a personal chef.
    The high life.
    "The husband requests I should leave you alone less I suffer a dry spell." He side eyes you and you hold a hand out to him which he takes and crawls beside you, careful of your body under the sheets. The nurse leaves and the two of you are left alone. "I was so scared. Seeing you there... bleeding..."
    "Me too." You admit, "I shouldn't be surprised but I am. Steve... that's not my Steve."
    His arm pulls you closer, dragging you off your pillow and into his arms. "He was never yours." It hurt but it was the truth. He gently brushes away your tears - it's not fair you still cried for this man - and gently turns your head so you can gaze at him, his touch soft as it hovers above your bandage. "Give us a chance ****."
    "Clark..." your eyes burn with more tears, afraid, you're so afraid. "I can't."
    "He could have killed you and yet he still holds a place in your heart."
    What? "No."
    "He's still there, he lived everyday content with another woman while you were left alone and bitter. Everything you've done to get to this point was because of him. He's still there, in your heart, a parasite, keeping you from moving on and taking a risk." You're  quiet and his normally stoic self turns frustrated and says, "The asshole stabbed you, doesn't he deserve to suffer?"
    "Yes. He deserves to suffer." The anger surged and you used your arm to prop yourself up, "Steve humiliated me. They all knew, fucking knew, and... I still have the fucking dress." Clark frowned, "How could he do that to me, why Clark. Why?"
    "Because he can." You flop back on the mattress and cover your eyes with the heels of your hand and will the hurt to die and your tears to dry. "He's  heartless but you're not."
    "Clark..."
    "No. He never cared ****, he used you while Sharon was away. If it wasn't for the other asshole, Steve would have dumped you at the alter or killed you off and you know that's true. Look what he did to you, you don't think he would have that spy take you out?"
    "No." You choke out and you sniff before a grin curls your lips. "He would have done it."
    "Or the..."
    "No." Sniff, "I hacked his journal. He was going to cause a car accident." Clark went stiff and in the distance you hear a crash, a slam of a door, and you glare at Clark, "You didn't hang up the phone!" It wasn't a question because a moment later the door to your bedroom swings in and the very tall, very angry shadow of Lex Luthor fills the doorway. 
    "****." It was your full name. Your full legal name and you went absolutely still. 
    "Babe..." Clark tries but Lex is a storm cloud as he saunters forward and ignores the pet name only his husband was allowed. 
    "Are you soft in the head?" Lex loomed over you and for the first time you were scared of him. 
    "Lex..."
    "Car accident? You knew he was planning on killing you and you still did nothing." The man didn't have to shout but each word was laced with venom that had your heart skip a beat.
    "I..."
    "Swallowing a bottle of pills isn't what you do when someone plans to murder you." Oh shit, "Jumping head first into missions without backup or extra ammo is not the way one plots revenge." Fuck. "Running off and putting yourself in suicidal situations does nothing but get you killed!"
    "I know."
    "Then why must you be so stupid!"
    "Because I needed to feel something!" You shout, it hurts to sit up but you scramble to do so as Clark assists. "I was stupid, is that what you want to hear? How stupid I was to believe that someone  could love me? Me? That someone would want me for something other than sex? That I was beautiful? Smart? That I was more? Stupid of me to think that a person could think I was worth a commitment and kids and a last name, a home, I was stupid to think I was worth a home, someone who can... can love me..."  it was hard to breath and see as the old hurt rear its ugly head and you can't be strong, dropping your head, spine hunching you press your hands against your eyes, the pressure easing the headache that was throbbed steadily. 
    "Lex, ease off." Clark rubs circles on your back.
    "No. She needs to deal with this and not wallow in self pity."
    "Lex!"
    Sniffing up the snot you wipe your nose and say, "It's not wallowing. I'm not a victim, read the definition asshole."
    "Of course you're not love but crying doesn't get back at someone who wants to cut your break cords."
    Sniff, "Drunk driver." Your eyes itch and you rub them again, "A t-bone."
Clark takes in your red eyes and the flush to your face before looking up to his husband, "Kill him."
    "No."
    "Already on it." Lex says matter of factly. 
    Again you say, "No. Death is too good." 
    Lex sighed, he was ready to snap at you again. "He's enhanced. What's your plan? You can't get close to him like before."
    "He's a conservative man, his reputation is everything to him." You say, "I got a plan to get SHIELD off my back and I'll make public his journals and porn crap."
    Lex frowns, "No maiming? Missing limbs?"
    You shake your head, "No. There's some heavy shit in those journals and secrets about the team. I'll black out the intel from missions but Steve gets off on knowing that the world sees him as this perfect man. A God amongst mortals. He won't know how to deal with it."
    "Alright, ok, we can work with that." Hands continued rubbing circles on your back, "Can I punch him at least?"
    "You're getting your hands dirty?" Surprised, Lex glanced down at you, "Guess he loves you more than me." In response Clark lugged a pillow at him.
    "Punch him twice. One for me and one for you." It comes from you.
    "Break his leg for me." Lex sends you a look but you don't say a word, "Payment for the stitches."
    "Mhm." You'd probably scar too. "Break both legs." You rub at your thigh where it itched.
    "I smell blood." Clark leans over and moves the blanket aside and patches of red bloom on your bandage, your shorts hiked up to V of your thighs. "Lex, get the nurse. You might have popped a stitch."
    "It's ok, I'm ok."
    "No, you're not." 
    The nurse comes in with a first aid bag and your bandage is removed showing that yes, you popped a stitch. It doesn't take long to fix it but you do lean into Clark for comfort. 
    .
    SHIIELD's system is down.
    Their backup of a backup doesn't work, nothing works. Cards danced on the screens, Queens of spades, hearts, diamonds, and clubs bounce up and down, left to right, in no specific direction. 
    They all know whose calling card halted all communications and in a solo room where a group of people who had complete access to everything were privy to a badly drawn cartoon of a queen of hearts card threatening to release sensitive information to earth and Google Earth images of all their safe house locations including their own. 
    Less than a day later SHIELD pulled all their warrants and people in the search of you. 
    An email was immediately sent with your resignation and quickly after that a website was made public with Captain America Secrets on full view and no A.I. or hacker could tear it down. 
    Not with the insane amount of protection you encased it in. Still, you had fail safes in case it was taken down plus the internet where nothing died was quick to copy and paste and you sat back in your hello kitty onsie as the world burned Steve Rogers and the Avengers.
    Tony's PR team was quick to claim it was a hoax and the others had denied all allegations against their own humiliation but you had finally let it go. 
    You had to.
    Looking up as a set of floor to ceiling windows slid open and you watched as Superman flew in and landed. His hair was in disarray, a portion of his suit was torn and blood was splattered on his cheek, not his blood you're sure. "Had fun?"
    A grin is tossed your way and the papers on the coffee table ruffled as the man sped to you and was right there, making your eyes cross. "Beautiful. Perfect. Brilliant. Patient. Crazy. Lovely."
    "Clark, heros say no to drugs." You interrupt his rambling.
    "I'm sober."
    "Meth?"
    "****."
    "Cocaine?"
    "****."
    "Sugar?" There's seconds, time for you to turn your head as Clark leans in, but you hold your breadth as he kisses you. A soft and gentle pressure and it's so sweet.
    "Let me love you ****." his brows press against yours, "Let us love you. Give us a chance."
    No.
    Just no.
    You don't need the extra heartache.
    "Okay." It slips out and you can't take it back. Do you want to take it back? 
    Clark's face is one of excitement and his eyes shine with something that you've seen before, when he looks at his husband and you were a sucker for pain. You can't take it back, "You won't regret it I promise." And with that Clark picks you up and you hold on. 
    "I'm not having sex so you can put me down." You kick your legs because you're almost sure you wouldn't.
    "Oh I know." He walks confidently to the still open window, "We need Lex for that. He has a sturdy desk and sound proof office."
    "Clark!"
    And he jumps, flying off in the direction of his husband's company. It would be a pleasant surprise but at least he was right, that desk was sturdy. 
    End.
Notes:
I can't write sex scenes so there you go. Use your imagination. I picture a spit roast scenario and a very slippery desk.
 I can confirm that Superman kicked Steve's ass, broke his legs - twice - and punched 3 times. Which is why Clark arrived looking disheveled. Also Steve did give as good as he got but Superman is a pretty boy with hopefully good dick (for you the readers sake ;)
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