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deadsetobsessions · 8 months ago

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Alley Drunk! Danny AU- Pt. 4

[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.3]

Danny blinked down at the cart, where a red hoodie and pants with red stripes along the side laid over the lip of the cart. Considering they’re in this universe’s brand of Marget- seriously, who names a store Target? If anything in Amity Park was named that, Skulker would have wrecked it in five seconds flat- it’s hilariously on brand. Though, to be fair, this was Gotham’s version too, which meant a lot of security guards (who definitely doubled as goons for the Rogues, Danny was sure) and the vibes were spooky.

“I’m guessing red’s your favorite color.”

Instead of the humorous way he meant the sentence, Jason looked up anxiously and Danny immediately hated himself a little bit more.

“Sh- I can put it back..?” Jason hunched in on himself.

Danny tracked the movement with clearer eyes than he’s had in a long while and ancients, does it remind him of how Dani was in front of Vlad all those years ago. And Danny has spent his entire half life being not like Vlad, so he’s not going to start now.

“Nah, you should definitely add some more stuff. This is no where near enough clothes.”

It really wasn’t. Danny had taken Jason to the store to pick out clothes- “Ther’s a second hand store down the stree’, ya know,” Jason had mumbled when they went through the doors- but the kid had only tentatively put in a small red hoodie and some pants in the cart. Now he had to put this in a way that’ll wipe the stubbornly hesitant look on Jason’s face off.

“Think about it this way, then. You’re repping me now, and while I might be the alley drunk, I’m not the poorly dressed alley drunk, yeah?”

“Oh. Tha’ makes sense.” Jason nodded to himself determinedly, and the kid strode over to the t-shirt section. For all of his confidence, he still glanced back to see if it was okay with Danny.

Well, Dani was the same way before she found her confidence (when she knew Danny wouldn’t abandon her or hurt her) so Danny just gave him a thumbs up before reaching into the rack and sweeping an armful of clothing straight into the cart. Then, he strode over to the jackets and grabbed the ones in Jason’s size and slightly bigger. Oh, he has to grab shoes. He’ll leave that for later, but Danny was going to get those ratty trainers off of Jason’s feet and into the nearest trash can if it was the last thing he does.

The halfa hummed, pausing at the first decidedly not miserable sound he’s made in a while. Dammit, if that wasn’t a sign of Danny’s attachment to Jason, he doesn’t know what would be. To be fair… Danny already committed murder for the kid, which was pretty much something he thought he’d never do, so in for a penny out for a pound or whatever.

He put a significant amount of the budget aside for the section labeled “JASON” so Danny shopped without a worry. Charlie’s ill-gotten assets were a good monetary compensation for his crime of existing near Jason or existing, period.

He picked up toiletries, toothbrushes and the like, when Jason came back sans t-shirt. Instead of a shirt- Danny had actually hoped that Jason would try to get multiple shirts- Jason was clutching a book.

Before he could even voice anything, Danny plucked the book out of his grip and put it into the cart with a disarming smile.

“Oh, good idea. We should get you books too. Wanna go pick out some more?”

“Uh- y’re just gonna get a book, just like that?”

“More than one book, I should hope. You are going to school, right?”

“…Yeah!” Danny couldn’t fathom ever being excited at the thought of school, but as Jason bounced away to peruse the admittedly poor selection of books, Danny couldn’t help but think that maybe he should give this education thing another try. Who knows? Maybe it’ll be less stressful now that he’s not Phantom.

Danny walked to the aisle next to the books and promptly proceeded to shove every single piece of stationary he thought was nice- pens, gel pens, cooling pens and pencils, a thick stack of notebooks, flash cards, etcetera- into the rapidly getting full cart.

Jason came back with three more books- nice, the classics- and froze at the sight of the cart.

“Oh, hey. Getting all of those?”

“Wha’- wha’s wit’ the stuff?”

“School supplies! Quality education starts with quality supplies, you know!” Danny said, a sliver of the grin that used to come so easily to him making an appearance on his face. "Don't worry, I budgeted. See?"

Danny handed Jason a piece of paper, confident that the kid would know if it was good or not.

"Where'd... ya get all of this?"

"Hmm... here and there."

Jason looked up at him, squinting suspiciously. "I hear' Charlie's gone poofed up."

Danny shrugged and put a calculator in the cart. "Oh, I'm sure he's busy."

Yeah, Danny thought vindictively. Busy being dead.

"Ya sound like a walking con," Jason said as he visibly decided to give up fighting against Danny's spending. "We nee' food."

"Gotcha. Well, if you need anything else, just bring it into the cart."

"I want veggies. Frozen, 's cheaper."

Danny nodded, resisting the urge to ruffle Jason's hair.

----

"Hey, you's the Alley Drunk, right? 'Bout that boy you've been toting ar-"

Danny punched the guy in the face, dropping him like a stone. He looked up slowly and swayed.

"Any of you ask about my kid brother again, and I won't bother with being drunk when I hit you."

Rapid nods. Danny shuffled away, satisfied.

----

Two weeks later, after a school day, Danny finds Jason heading to the bathroom with a box of...

"Hair-dye?"

Jason, who was marginally more relaxed and assured that Danny wasn't going to kick him out, nodded.

"Dye's fadin' n' I dun wanna get nabbed on the streets for having red hair."

Danny blinked. "You have red hair?"

"Sure do. See? Roots are showin' again." Jason pointed at his scalp where Danny could see the hair was getting lighter.

"Right. Well- I'll leave you to it. Let me know if you need help, kiddo." Danny said, desperately hoping he hid how off kilter he was feeling well.

"I don't need help, ah've been doing this for ages." The kid went into the bathroom and closed the door harshly. When the lock clicked and the faucet began running, Danny let himself slide down the wall into a crouch, hands cradling his head.

Red hair. Blue eyes. Tan skin. The facial features. The intelligence and empathy.

Danny chuckled hysterically under his breath.

Was Jason this universe's version of Jazz?

"Fuck."

#danny phantom #batman #dc x dp #dpxdc #danny adopts jason todd #jason todd #bamf danny phantom #alley drunk! danny au #danny: i'm grieving #jason: wanna bet?#that's right jason's this universe's jazz fenton #this universe's danny fenton died and that's why danny can exist here without causing issues #danny: i have adopted a random child #danny: this child is jazz wtf

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dcxdpdabbles · 2 months ago

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DCxDP fanfic idea: The Ones who got away.

A fic based off results for Funniest reason Bruce knew Danny

Bruce Wayne can still clearly remember the day he first met Daniel Fenton. It was while the two were at Gotham Acadamy, when Bruce was still steaming with rage and plans of vengence.

Daniel—or Danny to his friends—had moved to Gotham midway through Danny's sophomore year from a small town in Illinois.

Bruce was a year younger but was the only one around when Danny stumbled into the main office trying to find his classes. Apparently, the student assigned to give him a tour had only bothered passing along his schedule and letting him lose.

Bruce was supposed to be waiting for Alfred to pick him up (he thinks it was because he got into a fight or maybe someone tried to make fun of his parents? Bruce wasn't too sure) but figured walking the older boy to class was so much more enjoyable, especially with how cagy Danny seemed to be.

As they walked, Bruce could tell Danny came from a lower-class family. He may have been wearing Gotham Acadamy's uniform, but the fit was wrong. The cloth that made up his blazer pulled around his shoulders tightly and ended too far down his forearm. His pants were too long for his legs and held in place by a very determined belt. His shoes lacked the everyday shine and were scruffy from the mud.

None of that was overly obvious but to a school full of Gotham elities they could catch it at first glance. Bruce pointed it out, asking if he had gotten them from the donated box.

He hadn't meant it as an insult. Bruce was genuinely curious, but Danny took it as such. Before he could even blink, Danny had rounded on him and snared in his face.

"You got a problem with that!?"

"No," Bruce answered promptly, stunned by Danny's glowing eyes. He could have sworn they were glowing. A strage emotion started to grow in his chest as Danny crowed him more against the wall.

He would later describe the feeling as "mesmerizing:;" Bruce could not take his eyes off Danny's. "I was just curious."

Danny's eyes seemed to glow even more, casting Bruce's face in an emerald green shine. Or at least that's how Bruce remembered it. Maybe his memories of the encounter were not as reliable as one would hope.

For a moment, Bruce thought Danny would punch him. He hoped he would. Bruce had been so angry as a child after his parents' murders that he would gladly get into any fights at school. He liked it. It made his terrible, horrible thoughts stop when he gave into the rage and the violence.

But Danny didn't do that. Instead the older boy had lean back, closed his eyes and breath a few times though his nose. Then in a very obviously restained voice grunted out "Telling someone that thier clothes looked like it came from a donation box is not okay"

"Why?"

"Ancients, dude. It's rude."

"Why?"

Then, to Bruce's teenage shock, Danny was willing to spend almost an hour with him, explaining why people reacted the way they did to his words. Not even Alfred had been that patient with Bruce. It was the first time someone didn't make him feel terrible for not understanding the human thought process.

(Later when mental health awareness became more spoken about Bruce would learn he was not broken. He was just different. That was years away from this however)

After that, Danny found his class and made a fast friend willing to show him the rest of the way. It should have been their last interaction, and officially it was, but Bruce could not stop thinking of Daniel Fenton with his glowing eyes and strange restraint rage.

Bruce remembered that he got into fewer fights around that time. Alfred was overjoyed. He refrained from telling the aged butler that it was not because he had outgrown his urge for combat but because he was too busy sprinting as fast as he could across the campus between classes in hopes of catching a glimpse of Danny. They were in different years, classes, and lunch times and ran through different circles.

The two rarely crossed paths.

But that didn't stop Bruce from wanting to see him. He just wanted to see if the glowing eyes were real or just a trick of his young—and smitten—mind.

This was long before Batman, which means Bruce wasn't as sneaky as he thought. In fact, by the end of Danny's second month at Gotham the older boy had developed a sense of Bruce's lurking.

Danny could pick him out in a crowd no matter where he was. It would have been thrilling if the rest of the student body hadn't noticed.

Danny being from a poor family, only attending Gotham Acadamy through scholarship, singled him out. Bruce Wayne- the school madman- following him around only made things worse for Danny.

Before long bullies rounded around the transfer, and while things rarely got physical it didn't mean that they made things easy for Danny. He gain a school nickname, whispered between laughter and mocks when the teachers' backs were turn.

Freaky Fenton.

Danny obviously thought Bruce had something to do with this; after false rumors of Bruce being the one to start that horrid nickname, whatever goodwill the older boy held for him soured. Bruce tried so hard to explain that it wasn't him, but rumors spiraled faster than he could keep up and soon Danny hated the very sight of him.

Danny would respond with harsh hisses whenever he tried to approach the boy. It was a bit shocking to hear such a sound come out of a boy so pretty—and pretty he was. By the time they graduated, Danny had left the Academy as " best-looking."

It was the kind of sound Bruce would find in a snake or a feral cat. He quickly backed away, unsure why that sound made his heart race. Danny took it as a surefire way to get rid of Bruce.

Over the following three years, he would be subjected to Danny's hissing. The bullying that Danny suffered through eventually stopped when people grew bored, and when Danny hit a later puberty that made almost everyone choke on their spit.

Bruce was sad that he could only see the other from far away. He eventually had to move on, aware that it would never happen between them. Danny graduated and returned to Amity Park, Illinois, vanishing from Bruce's life.

That's when Bruce met Harvey Dent. The two grew to be fast friends and shared a desire to better Gotham. They became fast friends at their college orientation after noticing they were each wearing a "just donated" sticker for the blood drivethat same morning.

Bruce and Harvey were inseparable, where one was, and the other was not too far away. Life was full of comfortable company, able to get excited about things without having to wear a mask and exploring the world to all the wonderful new horizans Harvey showed him.

His friend believed in wonder and spontaneous adventure that blended well with Bruce's careful planning and weariness. Eventually, they even moved into the same dorm because they practically already did with how often they spent the night in each other's place.

They went through their basics, cheered when they got accepted into law and medical school, and spent every holiday at each other's hips. Harvey was the first person Bruce told he may be attracted to boys (even before Alfred), and Bruce was the only one who knew why Harvey woke up in a cold sweat, a scream in the back of his throat, and the wild, untrusting looks he gave alcoholics.

Harvey was the light to Bruce's darkness. Unsurprisingly, he gave in to the urge to hold that light one night and leaned over to press his lips against Harvey's. His friend had sighed against his lips and pressed back, muttering about wanting to do so since the first time he saw Bruce.

When this happened, the public wasn't the most accepting, so Bruce and Harvey kept their romance confined in their dorm, but it was the happiest he ever felt. Harvey, because a love affair of this kind could ruin any chances he had to crawl out of the hole his dysfunctional family put him in, and Bruce's status would plummet if the newspapers ever caught wind, making his company lose thousands.

They both agreed it was better to be friends with benefits. A secret.

Harvey was almost worth delaying his training and not becoming Batman. Almost.

Bruce's mission, however, could not be stopped, and with a heavy heart, he dropped out of medical school and ended the secret with Harvey. Two hearts broke that day, Bruce's for leaving and Harvey's for not asking him to stay.

His training took him out of the USA, but he would fly back between masters to check up on Alfred and Harvey. Life went on, and Harvey continued to awe his classmates with his sharp mind and top grades. Alfred kept Wayne Manor in order, waiting for him, and Bruce studied everything he could get his hands on in preparation for Gotham's justice.

Then he met the Al Ghuls, and all his visits were gone. Thankfully, he was allowed to send and receive letters once a month. According to his postcards, his friend had gotten a new roommate—one who was just as kind and as great a friend to Harvey.

Bruce had no right, but a part of him ached that Harvey may have found a new secret—someone to curl against with the radio playing softly in the background, someone who would enjoy Harvey's amazing cooking.

Then he realized that it was for the best. He wished them well.

When his training ended two years later, Harvey was in his final year at Law school. He still lived with that same roommate, and so Bruce figured he might as well stop for a visit.

Batman was set to debut that weekend. He wanted one last hurrah before he sold his soul to the city.

His heart fell to his knees when Daniel Fenton opened the door to Harvey's dorm with a smile. Apparently, he had returned from Amity and was also seeking a law degree.

He was Harvey's new Secret. It was easy to tell with the way they danced around each other, and what was worse was that Danny didn't recognize him until Harvey had yanked him inside with a cheer of his name.

"What a small word" Danny laughed. "Can't believe you know my high school Not-Bully"

"Daniel, I never-" Bruce starts, knowing Harvey's eyes have narrowed. He has never been one for bullies.

"I know," Danny cuts him off with a small apologetic smile. "I know that now, Bruce. I'm sorry I was a dick to you in high school. I should have verified where those stupid rumors came from, but school was tough."

"Yeah, poor Bruce always puts his foot in his mouth." Harvey laughs, punching his arm. For a moment, it feels like no time has passed, but then Harvey pulls away to wrap an arm around Fenton's waist.

Danny's eyes widened in shock, but Harvey calmed him down by explaining that Bruce was like them. Blue eyes- blue, weren't they green in Bruce's memories?- warmed and dinner is served.

Dinner is great—so great that Bruce comes back the next day and the next and the next, and then he suddenly spends far too much time at their dorm.

He can't help it; Bruce Wayne was never known for having self-control. But like walking around with broken bones from his nighttime activities, he learns to grind his teeth and bear through the pain.

Harvey and Danny will buy a house together in the meantime.

#dcxdpdabbles #dcxdp crossover #spirit halloween ship #Harvey Dent/ Bruce Waybe #Harvey Dent/ Danny Fenton #Pre-poly #The ones who got away #Part 1 #autistic bruce wayne #Was supposed to be funny but feels angsty

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mochinomnoms · 4 months ago

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i understand the simping for the fashion dilf believe me i do

but i come offering other non simping thoughts for now

i can imagine yuu just casually braking into other dorms to sleep when it rains bc their dorm is still…extremely broken (because the BIRD MAN WONT FIX IT)

so their friends (and possibly lovers depending upon your preference) just wake up the next morning to see yuu on on couch in their common area with grim sleeping on them

-🐝

I love this alot but especially if it's a case that no one can figure out how the hell you're getting into their dorms. Even though they're easily accessible through the mirrors, the dorms are probably locked from the outside for safety reasons.

At my dorms and for most of the buildings, they were open during the day and at night they would only be accessible though student id/key cards. I think the students at NRC maybe could use their wands as their key cards, but you don't have a wand, just Grim with his stone. And people forget that Grim, even though he's just a lil ceacher....is still technically a student that can get into buildings lol.

Heartslabyul is the main victim of your sudden appearances, which makes Riddle a bit conflicted, as he understands Ramshackle is desolate, and the roof might cave in on you while sleeping... But there are RULES, and you're not supposed to leave your dorm after a certain time, AND you need permission from your housewarden to sleep in another dorm. But technically you're your own housewarden...and you did come into his dorm right before the deadline (Idia can pull up the timestamped camera footage to prove it if you ask). Ace and Cater get a kick out of seeing you in the lounge and may or may not have the urge to draw silly things on your face in marker. Trey and Deuce feel a bit bad since you are using the couch pillows to cover yourself, so they start leaving throw blankets for you to use. Riddle will get over it, eventually, and will start involving you in the dorm's morning routine and chores if you're there often enough.

The next most common is Scarabia, mostly because their lounge is super luxurious and Kalim doesn't care that you sneak in. In fact, he starts anticipating it (he can be perceptive if he really pays attention) and will sit in the lounge waiting for your arrival for an impromptu sleep over! It only becomes a problem when Jamil wakes up and goes to get Kalim up for the day only to realize that he's gone and oh god where is Kalim did he get kidnapped oh shit Jamil is gonna get murdered by Kalim and his own—WHY ARE YOU SLEEPING IN THE LOUNGE—PREFECT????? You promptly get banned for a few weeks before the cycle continues again.

For the next dorms, it's a tie between Savanaclaw and Diasomnia. Mostly because they're not as comfortable, like yeah Savanaclaw has a pool in the lounge and Diasomnia is a cool gothic castle but...they're not comfy to sleep in. Scarabia gets hot, but at least the lounge is comfy, Savanaclaw doesn't have loads of cushions, pillows, and blankets. Leona doesn't care much though, and he had you over once before, so as long as you don't disrupt his sleep again, do what you want. And Diasomina, while you'd be welcomed with open arms by Malleus, is kinda creepy...especially in the lounge....and you've woken up with Malleus or Lilia hovering over you, unblinking, staring until you wake up. They just want to greet you good morning! It's...sweet...but unnerving. But if you can't go to Heartslabyul, and you've been banned by Jamil from Scarabia for a while, then it's a toss of a coin between those two.

Your last options, in order, are Octavinelle, Pomefiore, and Ignihyde. Octavinelle, well they have a very lovely lounge with lovely ambience and quite comfortable couches! But, last time you got found by one of the students, you got reported to Azul who promptly made you work in exchange for sleeping in the dorm without reserving a room. Yeah, you forgot that Azul has rooms available to rent out, you can't get around that by sleeping in the lounge, work off your debt! It becomes a game almost, to see if they can find you before you sneak out of the dorm. You've been unsuccessful, as Jade and Floyd has an uncanny ability to find you no matter where you are. Once, as a joke and in retaliation, you managed to sneak into Azul's office and sleep on his couches. You'd planned to wake up and sit in his chair so that you could turn around with Grim in your lap like a James Bond villain (Grim asked what a James Bond was), but you ended up passing out for a solid 10 hours from how comfortable you were. You woke up to your head in Jade's lap, petting you like a cat, and legs over Floyd's lap, as Azul worked on paperwork. When you woke up, very confused and groggy, he asked how you would like to split your ten owed hours of shifts.

Pomefiore, while lovely, is not your favorite choice. Mostly because you don't want to deal with Vil. He's actually the most concerned out of everyone that you've resorted to sleeping in lounges, it's not good for your health. And as we all know, he is very concerned with his dorm members maintaining a good health and general wellness. So the moment he hears that you are sleeping around in the lounges, he waits, even puts Rook on watch for you. The moment you pass out in his lounge? He's snatching you and nearly motherhenning you. He's pushing you to sleep in one of the dorms, most likely Epel's room, since you're familiar with each other. And now, you've also been tied in with the same routine and rules as Epel. You appreciate the concern, but you don't know how to tell Vil that you kinda like the fun of running around between dorms and freaking people out. He probably wouldn't be amused, so you manage to escape his grasp and stay at Ramshackle for a while to let him cool down (he's a bit offended that you wanted to escape, so now he's biding his time and waiting for you to eventually crawl back when the other dorms are occupied.)

Ignihyde is last because, quite frankly, that bish look cold! And uncomfortable! And a lot creepier than Diasomnia!!! And also, Idia and Ortho have that dorm covered in camera and security measures, so you're not getting in. Sorry I don't make the rules, Idia just really doesn't want to deal with you in the lounge, especially when he runs out for midnight munchies and has to hold back his scream when he sees a random person in his dorm and oh no it's just you. Prefect, what the fuck?

#mochi asks #twst #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #idk how else to tag this so reader it is

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himexyandere · 4 months ago

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Here's the Part 2 to my first Yandere Villain post as promised! I hope y'all enjoy! ❤️

Link to Part 1

It isn't long before you start receiving a bunch of gifts from the villain, ranging from simple things like sweets, flowers, and clothes... To unhinged "gifts" like pieces of hair from another smaller villain you've been hunting, or a tape recording of him torturing another villain. Needless to say, all of these things are promptly discarded by your sidekick with claims that they could be boobytrapped or poisoned.

Most of the time, you don't even see the gifts, as you're busy with protecting the city and responding to distress calls. Your sidekick is the one that handles all of your fan mail. Though, calling the villain's deliveries "fan mail" is a gross oversimplification. He isn't your fan. He's madly in love with you.

And of course, he shows his love for you in the only way he knows how — by kidnapping you. After responding to a distress signal that was just on the outskirts of the city, you promptly fell unconscious as soon as you arrived at the location... Only to wake up in an unfamiliar bedroom. It doesn't take you long to put two and two together. Although, you weren't expecting your cell to be so... Luxurious, nor did you expect to have servants tending to you.

The servants are quiet, but they do answer some of your questions. They bathe and pamper you in a way that implies you're going out to celebrate something. Once you're all dressed up and proper, the villain finally comes into the room. Immediately, you ask him if this is some elaborate scheme to get you to lower your guard so that he can finally kill you.

He's confused..? "Have my feelings truly not reached you, even after all this time, my dear hero? Have you not been getting my gifts? I've attached numerous love notes to them all."

You just flat out tell him that you have no idea, since your sidekick would dispose of them and tell you what was in the package afterward. His face visibly darkens before he asks how attached you are to your "little sidekick". It's clear he has murder on the mind, but you're a little too exhausted to do anything aside from sigh and tell him that it isn't your sidekick's fault for assuming his "gifts" were traps. He is a villain, after all.

After a bit, he does ease up a little, though he still looks upset that you haven't been getting any of his supposed love letters.

"Upon further thought... This is perfectly fine! I have a spectacular night planned for us, and I shall reaffirm the words of adoration I wrote to you all throughout."

#yandere #male yandere #yandere villain #yandere male #female reader #male yandere x reader #male yandere x female reader #male yandere x fem!reader #obsessive love #obsessive yandere #male villain #part 3?? how we feelin about this man fellas

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kujousgf · 1 year ago

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THERE'S JUST ONE THING I WANT (your blood all over me)

pairings: final girl!reader + slashers!wandanat, pre-established bucky + reader

summary: movie night at your boyfriend bucky's on friday the 13th, what could go wrong?

warnings: depictions of violence and murder, cult dynamics (cult leader wanda), character death (not reader), cheating, manipulation, patriarchal ideals, misogyny, power dynamics, pet names, mommy kink, dom!natasha, sub!reader, dom!wanda, fingering, groping

wc: 5.7k~

A/N: sorry bucky...

Friday the 13th, a universal day of bad luck and bad omens. You were never one to be overly superstitious, you did have a black cat, Liho, after all, but something about this just felt like a bad idea. Bucky had proposed the idea of having a movie night of sorts to celebrate the unofficial holiday, wanting to invite some friends over and watch a few horror movies. He explicitly wanted to ‘watch Parker piss his pants over a little movie,’ which you rolled your eyes at.

“I don't know if this is a good idea, Buck…” You sigh, looking up at the taller man through your lashes, your arms wrapped around yourself. “Oh, come on, it'll be fun. Who doesn't love a good horror movie?” He laughs, though he knows you don't, “besides, I'll keep you safe. Don't worry.” He pulls you into him, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“You know I don't like those kinds of movies,” you huff, “and your friends are always… weird.” You mumble, burying your face in his chest. He sighs above you, starting to run his fingers through your hair, “I know, I know, but it'll just be one movie. And it's just the guys! They're harmless, come on, you know that!” His tone is lighthearted, but he tugs a little on your hair at the last part. “You can invite some of your friends,” he offers, “who've you been hanging out with lately? Wanda? Natasha? Carol?” and then he quickly changes his mind, he doesn't like her attitude towards either of you, “Ugh, no, don't invite Carol… How about that Kate girl? You can invite the redheads and Kate?”

“...okay, but promise you won't pick one that's too scary?”

“Promise, scaredy cat.”

Friday comes quickly and you're currently preparing for Bucky’s friends to come over, making sure there's cold beer in the fridge and snacks for them to eat. Your boyfriend was setting up the television apparently, telling you that you were always better in the kitchen than he was and then disappearing into the living room. Some of your friends were coming too, which you were grateful for. You had debated inviting Carol even though Bucky said not to, but decided against it. Wanda and Kate would be here soon, but Natasha said she had something she needed to do with Yelena tonight and wouldn’t be able to make it.

You play with the ring around your finger before you start to put bowls and dishes on the island’s countertop in front of you, humming softly to yourself as you make sure it looks presentable. You were never one to like an ugly spread. Bucky chooses this time to come into the kitchen and wrap his arms around your waist from behind, “see? Told you, you’re so much better in the kitchen than I am.”

“You’re just saying that because I cut up some plums for you.”

“You got me.” He chuckles, reaching forward to grab a slice of the fruit, “the boys should be here soon, you should get changed.” He pats your bare thigh, the shorts you’re wearing are decidedly too short for him, and then pulls away from you and starts to walk away.

“You didn’t seem to mind my outfit earlier!” You call out after him teasingly, and he just turns around to give you a pointed look, opening his mouth to speak before promptly closing it when he hears a car pull into the driveway. “That must be Steve. Go get changed.”

“I’m going, I’m going.”

It did turn out to be Steve, and you greet him after you’ve come back downstairs. This time dressed in a pair of jeans and a brown sweater. Bucky’s friends arrive in quick succession after that: Steve, Sam, Tony, Peter (Quill, not Parker. Parker couldn’t make it), and even Rhodey showed up which was apparently something of a miracle. Wanda’s friend Vision was away for work, otherwise you might have asked her to bring him too. You sip on a drink in the kitchen with Wanda while you wait for Kate, it was far too loud in the living room with all the boys. Especially because Tony had started drinking. You don’t envy Pepper, the man could be loud while sober, so this was almost unbearable. You remind yourself that they’re Bucky’s friends and it’s just one evening, he’ll make it up to you tomorrow.

“You know, you could have just told him we were going out and you wouldn’t have had to deal with all of this,” Wanda hums, lifting her glass up to her lips and taking a sip of wine, “I know how much you hate these kinds of movies.”

“I know, but he seemed excited about it, and you know him… I don’t want to be down on something he’s actually excited about.” You lean against the counter, holding your glass in both hands against your chest. “He said he’d pick a movie that wasn’t too scary, but we can probably get away with just being in here for the whole night. It’s not like they’ll really notice.”

“You don’t think Bucky will notice if you’re not within two feet of him at all times? You must have forgotten who you’re talking about.” Wanda laughs humorlessly, a tight smile on her lips. None of your friends were particularly… fond of your boyfriend. It’s not that they hated him, he could be a nice guy, it’s just that sometimes the way he treated you was more like the way you’d treat a child or a trophy than a girlfriend.

Just then Bucky’s voice interrupts the two of you with a ‘babe!’ and you excuse yourself from the kitchen. You’re semi-grateful for it, not wanting to get into this Wanda right now, but you wanted to avoid the guys for longer than you were able to.

It turns out he had just wanted another beer, which you brought him and he accepted with a kiss to your cheek. You’re certain that Peter was going to ask for one too until he and Bucky had some sort of silent conversation, so you slipped out of the room to avoid whatever the outcome might have been. Things between the two of them could get tense.

Wanda gives you a look when you re-enter the kitchen and you shrug, “he was having some sort of debate with Steve, he didn’t want to lose his train of thought.”

“Uh huh…” The strawberry blonde opens her mouth to say something else, but she’s cut off when she hears a sharp, feminine scream pierce her ears. A scream that she knows doesn’t belong to the horror movie everyone is supposed to be watching tonight. She gives you an indecipherable look, and you look back at her with wide eyes, frightened. “Was that… the movie? Buck didn’t say he was starting it yet…”

She doesn’t answer you, waiting to see if maybe she can hear the background noise of a movie coming from the living room, maybe they decided on a different movie. But when she doesn’t hear anything besides confused chatter she can’t quite decipher she shakes her head, “I don’t think so.”

You’re soon joined by Bucky and the rest of the guys in the kitchen when he rushes in to make sure the scream he heard wasn’t, in fact, his girlfriend. “What the hell was that? Are you okay?” He holds you at arm’s length to inspect you, making sure you weren’t hurt. You could be a little clumsy, and he knows you’ve been drinking some wine, so he thought maybe you had decided to cut up some fruit and dropped the knife, accidentally cutting yourself. But after a quick once over, he realizes that you’re fine.

“I-I don’t know. Wanda and I were just talking in here and then we heard a scream. I thought maybe you started the movie without us. Do you think someone’s hurt somewhere? Oh God, this is exactly how those horror movies you like so much start out. I told you doing something like this today was a bad idea, Buck–”

The back door opens and you barely hear it, still rambling until Bucky puts his hand over your mouth. You furrow your eyebrows, and you’re about to move his hand to tell him off, who cares that his friends are here, until you hear a set of footsteps and realize that everyone is standing still and tense. Bucky’s house had a bit of an odd layout. Whereas other houses kitchen’s were in the back of the house, his was near the front.

Your boyfriend was always hyper vigilant, even when there was no reason to be, but when he brings his finger up to his lips to signal you to be quiet, you think that maybe there is a reason this time. Even Tony seems to have shut up, looking slightly concerned. Maybe all your talk about bad omens was getting to everyone.

There’s a tension in the air and everything is silent for a moment until the footsteps continue, getting closer and closer…

Your breath gets caught in your throat when a masked figure steps through the doorway. They have a long, sharp, knife-like blade in one hand, the front of their shirt and mask splattered with blood. In the other hand, you see a coat you recognize, one you know belongs to Kate, splattered and stained with blood. Wordlessly, they hold it up and tilt their head, their green eyes sparkling at the recognition and horror on your face. A scream rips through your throat before you can stop it.

Bucky turns and he’s quick to push you behind him as soon as you scream while everyone else is frozen in place, eyes wide with shock. “Very funny guys, love that you hired an actor to scare the shit out of my girlfriend, very clever. When I said I wanted to scare her, I meant with the movie. So she would be extra clingy tonight, so we could– not the point. This isn’t cool.” His tone hardens with the last three words, feeling the way you’re shaking slightly behind him from fear.

“Buck, we didn’t… this isn’t us.” Sam speaks up and the masked stranger decides that this is enough talking for now before they surge towards Peter, who’s drunk enough to move just a bit too slowly. Their knife plunges into his stomach and he lets out a loud yell, drink dropping from his hand and glass shattering against the floor, doubling over when the knife is taken out and then plunged into his flesh again and again and again.

The action is enough to snap everyone out of their frozen states and send everyone running in a panic. You vaguely hear a ‘holy fuck!’ before Bucky grabs your hand and drags you out of the room, planning to circle around the killer and then exit the house. He lives at the end of a relatively secluded street, but he has his car and if he can get to it, he knows he could get the both of you away from danger quite quickly. He’d be sorry about his friends, but he can always make new ones.

“B-Buck, wait! We can’t just leave Wanda, what if she’s next? Please, we can't just leave. That was Kate’s coat, they got Kate. We can’t leave everyone.”

“We might get killed and you're worried about that redheaded b– fine, we can make sure Wanda’s okay.” He concedes when he sees your face, pulling you into the bathroom with him and shutting the door. He takes a breath and then locks it. If all else fails, the two of you can stay in here until morning, but right now he apparently needs a new plan.

He pats his pockets to try and find his phone, if nothing at all he needs to call the police. He groans when he realizes he left it on the couch. “Fuck.”

At some point you and Bucky get separated, it's hard to stay together in chaos like this. Maybe going back for Wanda was a bad idea, but you just couldn't leave her to fend for herself, especially after what you can only assume happened to Kate. And seeing what happened to Peter, you couldn’t let that happen to her. Stupid, maybe, but she was one of your closest friends.

You don't know how long it's been until you find yourself in a group again. Except now you're missing Peter, Tony, Steve and Rhodey. By the look on Bucky’s face, you know they all must have suffered the same fate as Peter.

“What do we do, man? We could try to leave, but that only got Steve killed. Did anyone call the cops? I can't find my phone.” Sam paces the room.

Steve’s body lays limp and slightly cold on the stone path leading from Bucky’s porch to the driveway. He didn’t get very far.

“I did.” Wanda speaks up from the doorway, keeping watch in the one on the left and scanning the whole room, paying particular attention to the doorway across from her. “I hope they'll be here soon. They might have already been here if James didn't live so far from town.”

“Oh, are you blaming this on me? Are you saying this is my fault?” Bucky shoots a glare towards Wanda. The tension between the two of them was always thick, but right now you think even a knife wouldn’t be able to cut through it.

“If the shoe fits.”

“Listen here, you–”

“Watch your tone.” Wanda's accent slips out and your eyes flit over towards her.

“Please don't fight, it won't make things better.” Your voice is quiet, scared, as you speak. You stand close to Bucky, arms wrapped around your torso. You're shaking slightly, the image of both Peter and Steve making you nauseous. You hadn’t expected to see him when you walked out the front door, and the image was enough to have you running back into the house.

Bucky grunts in response and Wanda doesn't say anything, crossing her arms tightly over her chest and looking towards the other entrance of the room you were all in again.

Perhaps she should have been paying more attention to what's behind her, though, because the masked stranger is suddenly right there. Your eyes widen and you don't have time to warn her before she shrieks as they force her hands behind her back and press a knife against her throat. It's a bit of a struggle, but the masked assailant is clearly strong as they manhandle Wanda into the room.

“Wanda!”

“Fuck!”

“Man, fuck this!”

You, Bucky, and Sam all stand alarmed near the center of the room, looking with widened eyes at the scene in front of you. A beat of silence passes, all that can be heard is labored breathing. And then the knife falls from her throat and Wanda starts to laugh, bent over from the force of it. “Oh, you should have seen your faces!” She laughs like this is the funniest thing that’s ever happened to her before she stops abruptly and stands up, a gun suddenly in her hand, pointed straight towards you. “Come here.” Her accent is back now, the fake American one dropped.

“W-Wanda, I don’t… what’s going on?” You sniffle, tears falling freely down your cheeks.

“W-Wanda,” she mocks, faux pout on her lips, “Come here.”

“Don’t listen to her. Stay right behind me.” Bucky steps in front of you, shielding you with his body.

“What a gentleman.” Wanda sneers, gun steadily pointed at Bucky’s chest now.

“Wanda, sweetheart, don’t get ahead of yourself.” Natasha speaks up, taking the now bloody hockey mask off and revealing herself. It had been so hard for her to keep her comments to herself and remain a mystery this whole time. Usually it wouldn’t be, but today was just so exciting. And it was personal.

Oh, she had been the one to give Wanda the handgun.

“Now what the fuck?” Sam makes the mistake of making himself known again and Wanda rolls her eyes, turning and aiming the gun at him instead. “Oh, shut up.” She pulls the trigger and a bullet goes straight through the man’s skull, blood splattering onto the floor and the wall behind him. He drops to the floor with a thud.

“Jesus Christ! You’re both fucking insane!” Bucky takes a glance towards Sam’s body on the floor, feeling bile rise up in his throat.

“Buck, I-I’m scared.” You whimper, and he pulls your body against his, hoping to bring you some comfort by running his fingers through your hair. This is not something he ever thought before, but maybe he should have listened to you when you said this was a bad idea.

Wanda takes a deep breath, her head jerking involuntarily at the sight, like she’d just seen something horrible. “I won’t ask again. Come. Here.” The gun is pointed at you again and her hand shakes slightly. Her eyes flash and you look up at Bucky, afraid she might actually shoot you. “Buck, I-I maybe I should go over. T-To calm her down… I don’t want her to hurt you.”

You sniffle again and he takes five seconds before giving a small nod. “It’ll be okay, baby. They won’t get away with this, I promise, I won’t let them.” He says in a way that he hopes is comforting to you. You hesitate before pulling away from him and slowly walking over to Wanda.

“Hi, Wands,” you smile up at her sweetly, “did I do good?”

“You would have done better if you didn’t let him put his hands on you like that,” she spits. You pout up at her and she softens slightly, leaning down to kiss you. She knows you were only playing a role, but that didn’t make it better, “you did great, baby.”

“What the fuck is going on!”

You spin around, eyes wild, no longer hiding anything now that the charade has been dropped, angry that your moments with Wanda are still being interrupted. “Will you shut the fuck up for five fucking seconds?! We are trying to have a conversation here.”

Bucky, poor guy, looks the most shocked you’ve ever seen him. He never would have seen this coming, he never could have. This wasn’t like you, you were sweet and quiet and would never speak to him like that. You couldn’t possibly have anything to do with this, not voluntarily. The way you were acting wasn’t making any sense.

“Baby… Come on, this isn’t like you. Whatever they said to you, whatever they did to you, you can tell me. I can help, I’ll get you out of this, you don’t have to worry.” He chooses almost the exact wrong thing to say, and you grab the gun from Wanda, pointing it towards him. Wanda and Natasha look toward each other, this wasn’t part of the plan. Not exactly, anyway.

"Oh, you can help me?! You'll help me!" You think of these past couple of months, years really, that you’ve spent with Bucky, stuck with Bucky. You did it to yourself upon the request of Natasha, but that doesn’t make it any better. You're practically hysterical at this point, waving the gun in your hand around with your finger on the trigger, "because you're a big strong military man, you can help me! Oh, and I bet you’ll save me too!" You're laughing now, shaking as adrenaline pumps through your veins. "That's what I am to you, isn't it? Proof of your ability as a man to save a woman? Your little trophy to prove that you're a good guy." You point the gun steadily at Bucky now, looking him directly in the eyes, "unfortunately for you, I've never been yours to save."

The thing about your and Bucky’s relationship is that it was never built on anything good. It would have been better, for him mostly, but the both of you, if you had just stayed friends like you wanted to, but he just kept pushing. He loves you, don’t you love him too? He knows you do, he can tell. He’s loved you since middle school and he’s never found the right time to tell you, but now that you’re both starting university, he couldn’t take the chance that you’d find someone else. (Unfortunately for him, you already had. The extra 10 years of friendship Bucky had, had nothing on the connection you had with Wanda and Natasha).

Bucky watched you grow up, watched you turn to him when your parents fought, watched you take your father’s mistreatment of you and your mother, and watched your little fear of abandonment grow when your father up and left one night. Watched the way you hoped he wouldn’t leave too, took advantage of it, really. And you watched him, watched the cracks in his nice guy persona get bigger, watched as they became canyons when you wedged yourself into them, watched as he hoped, God he hoped that you were your mother’s daughter.

And Wanda and Natasha watched you both, content to keep your relationship a secret as you explored the ways in which you could exploit Bucky, expose his true colors. They didn’t do very much pushing on your part, they wanted you to be free to make your own decisions. They may be in charge, but this was your idea, they just gave it the green light. Well, Wanda may have planted a few seeds, but that’s what she does. You were free to ignore them if you wanted, but she knew you didn’t. She knew you’d make her plans blossom.

The switch from hysterics to calm and collected has your boyfriend's head spinning. He doesn't know what part of this is real and what isn't, still half hoping this is some sick prank. Because this isn't like you, it's just not. The first time Bucky had ever shown you one of his guns, you were like a deer in headlights. You'd refused to even touch it, scared of such a weapon, a monster of human creation, you'd called it. That's who his girlfriend was, not this person standing in front of him. This mad woman, this crazy bitch. So this had to be fake, it had to be a prank.

It's not, of course, because what Bucky doesn't understand is that nothing with him had ever been anything but fake. What Bucky doesn't understand is that even though he's your boyfriend, you've never been his girlfriend, you've been Natasha and Wanda's. You've always been Natasha and Wanda's.

Natasha comes up behind you and wraps her arms around your waist before pressing a kiss to your cheek, "go on, pretty girl, you can do it," she whispers encouragingly. This may not be a part of the original plan, but the sooner they get this done, the sooner she can take you back to her and Wanda’s apartment. And the sooner Wanda can stop obsessing over this. "Remember how he treated you. Remember how we treat you."

“Be a good girl, we’re so close.” Wanda’s voice hits your ears and it’s like you can’t help but listen to anything she says. You take the shot without a second thought, the bullet going straight through Bucky’s chest as your own chest heaves, your breathing slightly labored. You’re still holding the gun towards him as his eyes widen and he drops to the ground, touching the wound like he can’t believe what just happened. He chokes slightly, coughing, as blood starts to spill past his lips and you shut your eyes. If only he hadn’t turned into such a rotten guy, he would have survived.

You feel Wanda’s soft hand slide up the length of your arm as she slots herself behind you now, Natasha going to check around the house to make sure no one has miraculously survived being slain. A smile graces the Sokovian’s lips and she envelopes your hand in her own, gently transferring the gun into her own grip instead, letting your arm drop to your side before lowering the weapon and tucking it into her back pocket, “you did such a good job, baby. I’m so proud of you.” Her voice is so sweet and loving that your bottom lip trembles involuntarily.

You love Natasha, but Wanda has always had an affect on you, and you know that if the Russian had said the same thing instead, you wouldn’t react this same way. The overwhelming feelings that loomed over tonight come back in full force as you let out the first sob. “Oh, sweet girl,” Wanda coos, turning you in her arms and bringing you against her, holding you tight, “such a big night for you, huh? But you know that what you’ve done is for the greater good, right? You know that, don’t you?”

You nod and she kisses the top of your head. “B-But Tasha came early, and I didn’t know that Katie– I thought– Tasha was too early, and I couldn’t tell if–” You can’t get your thoughts together anymore, your mind racing with everything that’s been going through your head since the beginning of the night. The fear for Kate, the confusion when Natasha showed up before 10:02pm, the very specific time she was supposed to, the way Wanda had looked just as confused as you had.

“Oh no, did she scare you?” Wanda laughs lightly, endeared and a little amused, “I’ll have to give Tasha a little talking to. She was a little early, huh?” She smooths her hand along your hair, petting you, “don’t worry about Katie, darling, she’s just fine. You know how Yelena would react if she wasn’t.”

“I-I know, but–”

“Shhh, I know, sweetheart. It’s okay, you didn’t know. Now, why don’t you give me a kiss, hm? Don’t I deserve a thank you?”

A ‘thank you’ for what, you didn’t know, but Wanda clearly thought she was deserving of one and who were you to question her? You lean up to give her a kiss, your arms wrapping around her shoulders as she grips your waist. You sigh against her lips, feeling yourself relax a little just from the comfort any amount of affection from Wanda gives you.

“I leave you two alone for five minutes and you’re pretending like I don’t exist.” Natasha stands from where she was leaning against the doorframe as she looks at you and Wanda, “do you have any idea how long I was standing there?” It had only been long enough to catch Wanda’s ‘don’t I deserve a thank you?’ and watch the two of you kiss, but still.

You pull away from Wanda and huff, your tears now forgotten, “I’m mad at you!” You glare at Natasha and she raises an eyebrow, walking towards you now, “mad at me, зайка?” She furrows her eyebrows slightly, as if she’s confused, and there’s an annoyingly attractive little smirk on her lips as she gets closer.

She grabs your hips and pulls you away from Wanda and the Sokovian would usually protest against the Russian’s audacity to steal her girl away, but she’s content to watch the two of you bicker for a few minutes. Natasha pulls you against her, “now what did I do to deserve that?” She squeezes your hips softly, looking down at you. “You were early!” You push against her chest before resting your hands there, playing with the fabric of her sweatshirt, “we had a plan!”

“Well, we didn’t exactly stick to the plan anyway, did we, baby? Huh? I don’t think the past 15 minutes were part of the plan. How about you, Wands?” Natasha turns her head slightly and makes eye contact with her girlfriend, to which the strawberry blonde just rolls her eyes, “this is not my problem. She’s not mad at me.”

“We might have if you showed up on time! You scared me, you asshole!”

Natasha is perfectly happy to humor when you’re ‘mad’ at her and even when you play fight against her or hit her, but she is not happy to hear you speak to her like that. Her movement is swift as she reaches up to grab your jaw, her grip harsh as her fingertips dig into your cheeks, “watch your tone and your language, yeah?”

You whine quietly, nodding. Natasha hums, releasing your jaw in favor of patting your cheek, “good girl. Now, why don’t you tell me properly why you’re ‘mad’ at me?” Her next actions contradict her words as she slips her hands underneath your shirt, sliding her palms up your stomach and then back down again.

“You were…” you trail off, distracted by Natasha's hands on you. She slides her hands back up and gropes your covered breasts, “I was?” There’s a smug look on her face as she looks down at you, pleased with how easily she can distract you. “You were early and… and you scared me, I didn’t know it was you.”

“My sincerest apologies, princess,” Natasha slides her hands back down and grabs your waist, squeezing roughly, and then she grins, “I didn’t realize you were so easily scared.” You’re about to curse her out, but she leans down to capture your lips in a kiss before you get the chance. The kiss is sloppy and rough as your hands grip her sweatshirt, tugging her as close as possible.

Wanda, never one to like being left out, takes her place behind you, sandwiching you between her and Natasha. Her hands slip under your shirt and replace where Natasha’s used to be, cupping your breasts and groping them softly, “let us make it up to you, ангел.”

The sound of Wanda’s soft voice in your ear relaxes you in their arms and you make a noise of agreeance against Natasha’s lips. “My poor little angel,” Wanda murmurs, “my divine little lamb. You didn’t deserve to be scared like that, did you?” Wanda’s questions are almost always rhetorical and you’re glad for that right now.

One of Natasha’s hands moves from your waist to unbutton your jeans and then slides into your panties. You grip her sweater tighter to try and urge her to move her hand further down, but she leaves it splayed just above your cunt. She pulls away from your lips, the both of you panting as you catch your breath, a string of spit connecting your lips and then dripping down.

“Say please, зайка. Just because I’ve upset you doesn’t mean you lose your manners, does it?”

“Please, Tasha. Please touch me.”

“Tell me thank you for what I did today.” She’s trying to stay in control of herself, but you can tell from her labored breathing and the flush of her neck that you’ve affected her.

“I’m so happy you freed me, Tasha. Thank you. I’m so grateful I can be yours forever now. Thank you, thank you.”

Natasha surges forward and crashes her lips against yours, a moan escaping your lips at the contact. Wanda hums in approval and it lights a fire in both yours and Natasha’s stomachs. You both know, this time, Wanda is only here to watch over the two of you, and to know what you’re doing has her approval means more to the both of you than anything you’ve ever done.

Natasha swallows your gasp when you feel her fingers beginning to rub at your clit, slow circles that work you up at just the right pace. Wanda places small kisses on your neck as Natasha works, groping and squeezing at your breasts as she does. She knows she’ll have you to herself later while Natasha works on cleaning up today’s mess, so she’s content in watching her prized possession feel good.

When Natasha moves her hand further down and sinks two fingers into your cunt, you pull away from her lips and let out a little whimper. Usually, she’d work you up, but she knew the three of you shouldn’t linger in the house longer than necessary. “Shhh, that’s it baby, you can take it.” She lets you bury your face against her chest as she pumps her fingers in and out, grinding the heel of her palm against your clit.

“There you go, that’s a good girl.” Natasha coos. She’s being uncharacteristically gentle and you think it’s because Wanda is watching or maybe she really does feel bad for scaring you like she did. She holds you tight against her as she leans over you to kiss Wanda. You feel your knees get weak when you realize what’s happening and you clench around Natasha’s fingers.

They both pay you no mind except for the fact that Natasha’s skilled fingers are still working against your cunt. She curls them just right and you bite down on her collarbone. She gasps and pulls away from Wanda’s lips, her other hand gripping your waist tighter, her blunt nails digging into your skin and leaving little crescent marks.

“Forgot our little зайка was a biter.” She grunts.

It’s not long before Natasha’s fingers work you up and push you over the edge, cumming with both her and Wanda’s permission. When Natasha pulls her fingers out you let out a little whine, sensitive from cumming. “Open up, pretty girl.” She brings her fingers up to your lips and you let her push them inside, cleaning your cum from her fingers, your cheeks hot at the action.

Natasha pulls away from you and pushes you to your knees, your shaky legs doing very little to hold you up anyway. Wanda’s fingertips drag across your cheek as she moves in front of you, standing next to Natasha. “What do you say, маленький ангел?” Wanda speaks as she uses her middle and ring finger to tilt your chin up.

You peer up at them, adoration swimming in your eyes, “Thank you Mommy. Thank you Tasha.”

#alice's fics !#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x fem reader #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanov imagine #natasha romanov x reader #natasha romanov smut #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff imagine #scarlet witch x reader #scarlet witch smut

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starlight-library · 9 months ago

Text

IOU | OP81

pairing: ghostface!oscar x ghostface!reader

summary: reader & oscar are best friends but reader would love to get a shot with ghostface. what they don’t know is that their chances are closer than they think…

warnings: [DARK THEMES USED & SMUT] slightly descriptive murder, mention of stalking stalking, mention of blood, breath play, public sex, oral sex (m receiving), dry humping, dom!oscar, sub!reader, degradation, hair pulling (if you squint??), face fucking, deep throating

a/n: once again, dark themes used! please read the warnings above!!! i answered a asked on my main here and decided to make a oneshot of it (yes i quote J's ask cause it was too good). tbh didn't even plan for a plot but here we are! I know my answer and this are vastly different...i don't wanna talk about it. also ghostface!oscar series belongs to @piastrification so homie this one is for YOU!! Also happy belated Valentines day omg. Hope you enjoy 🫶🏽

word count: 4.5K

This week has started out to be one of the worst weeks you’ve had in a very long time. Monday started off with your car breaking down on the way to campus and you completely missed your first class. When you got to campus an irritated Oscar was waiting asking why the hell you didn’t call him. “Even though I was in class, I would’ve left and gotten you,” he told you. You weren’t in the mood to argue so you just apologized and told him you’d call him next time which seemed to ease his irritation slightly. Seemed he also had a pretty shitty Monday.

Tuesday brought your shitty manager everyone hates at your job to end a relatively quiet day. It was the typical bullshit but still didn’t mean you had to enjoy it. You spent the whole drive home on the phone with Oscar screaming your head off about all the things your manager had done. The micro-managing of your work, the snarky remarks, the extra work so he can just fuck off in the back, god you could not stand this manager at all. Oscar listened like he always did. “You don’t deserve that,” you could hear the frown in his voice, “honestly he shouldn’t even be a manager. I could take care of him for you.” You laughed. You thanked Oscar for the offer but you had already decided that your manager would be your next victim. It would be tricky considering everyone in the store knew how much you two despised each other but it would get done.

You ended up with a stomach bug on Wednesday. You woke up around four in the morning with a jump and just made it to the bathroom before you got sick. You stayed in there for a good hour before there was nothing left in your system and you dragged yourself back to bed. You somehow coherently managed to message your professors you’d be missing class due to illness and texted Oscar that you’d be out sick today before promptly falling asleep. You woke to a knock on your front door and dragged yourself out of bed. You made a face seeing Oscar standing outside with a bag. “What are you doing?” You ask.

“Taking care of you. Can I come in?”

“What if you catch it? What about classes?”

You watch Oscar simply pull a KN95 mask out of his pocket. You narrowed your eyes as he slipped it on. You didn’t need to see his face to see the cheeky smile he was giving. His eyes twinkled slightly with humor as he gently turned you around and guided you back inside your place as he listed the things he brought over and how he can afford missing one day to make sure you eat and rest, a habit you tend to struggle with. He really was a good best friend.

Thursday is really when you hit your limit. Arriving on campus you and Oscar head to class though neither of you really paid attention. You two spent most of the time texting each other even though you guys were sitting right next to each other. When class ended the two of you headed to the closest campus cafeteria before parting ways. You got on the line to grab the food while Oscar secured you two seats since it was roughly lunch time and everyone would be out and about.

Carrying the two to-go containers after paying you make your way to the back left corner. It’s usually where you and Oscar sat and enjoyed just people watching and gossiping about other students but you slowed your walking. Oscar was looking up at someone. Fucking Brittany. One of the sororities girls. Sorority president actually. Brittany was in a nice blouse, a skirt, some fucking heeled boots. Her blonde hair was thrown up into a messy bun and she was leaning forward slightly while smiling wide at Oscar.

Jealousy hit you like a truck. You grip the to-go containers tighter while standing frozen in your spot watching them. You wanted to march over and tell her to fuck off. Grab your stupid bun and slam her head into the table until she’s bleeding out. Or maybe take the plastic forks that rested on top of the to-go containers and gauge her eyes out for having the audacity to even look at Oscar. Alas, you refrained from it all. Instead you just tilted your chin up and made your way over with a tight smile. “I’m back!” You announce to Oscar. The both turn to face you and Oscar visibly relaxes slightly but Brittany is giving you a once over clearly unimpressed. You turn and blink, feigning surprise. “Oh! Brittany. Hi,” you keep your tone light and friendly, “what brings you here?”

“Oh, I was just talking to Oscar,” Brittany smiles, “we’re partners for our history project.” You could give two shits less what it was as you spy Brittany’s hand moving to Oscar’s upper arm and resting there with ease. Something so subtle but could come off as flirty and you wanted to cut her hand off. How dare she think she can touch Oscar like that? “…and wanted to see if he wanted to come to the frat party Saturday night,” she concludes.

“Oh, isn’t that sweet of you. Can he bring a plus one?” You ask putting the containers down, sliding one over to Oscar.

“If he wants…” Brittany glances at Oscar with a smile then back at you, “but we need to know to make sure they’re on the list. Even then…it depends on the mood if everyone gets in.”

“Then it seems kinda stupid for a list, don’t you think so?” Oscar asks finally. Brittany laughs. It wasn’t even that funny. You realize now that she’s flirting with Oscar. Well. This just won’t do. Not like you care anyway. Oscar is your best friend. Sure you love him but it’s platonic -or so you tell yourself- so it shouldn’t bother you but it does. It does bother you because Brittany was the queen heartbreaker. She used guys until she got bored. Until they got attached and couldn’t offer anything else after giving her everything. You were not about to have Oscar be a pawn in her fucking game. You had missed the remark Brittany gave as you sat down, your heart pounding in your ears.

“…let me know!” Brittany calls out as she’s already walking away.

“Ugh. As if,” Oscar murmurs and turns his attention to you. “Hey,” he starts softly. Bring your gaze to him and you blink, “you okay?”

“Yeah,” you manage a smile, “I’m fine. Did you see the shoes she was wearing?” You ask to divert the subject as now you might have something fun to do this weekend.

* * *

Personally, you never understood the hype of sororities and managed to curb every single one who tried to recruit you. It was just a bunch of girls with money and tried to make it sound like it wasn’t a cult but it most certainly was if you got in. Moving into the house, what they expected you to wear, how to act in public, who can and cannot date, for fuck sakes they monitored your social media post and if they didn’t approve of something you posted they would either make you take it down or probably kick you out. You much preferred your freedom over dealing with that bullshit.

Luck had shined down on you when you heard some of the girls mention Brittany couldn’t go to the bar tonight because she was under the weather and just ‘had to get better for tomorrow in case her special guest came’. It was a miracle that you didn’t march over here and slaughter Brittany right then and there but you bide your time. You had to be careful.

Now, slipping the mask on, you give it a five minutes after everyone else leaves before slipping through the back door. Standing quietly, you listen to the water running and slowly making your way through the house. Climbing the stairs you follow the noise until you’re outside the bathroom. You hear Brittany singing and you silently open the door. Steam hits your face and it takes everything not to cough from the sudden heat. Stepping in you watch Brittany’s silhouette run her fingers through her hair. Gripping the hilt of your knife, you inch forward. When Brittany turns you stab the knife through the shower curtain and straight in her heart. Twisting, you step forward until Brittany is pinned against the wall as she weakly has a hold of your wrist trying to pull the knife out her screams being drowned out by the shower and her choking on her own blood. You pull out before stabbing again to ensure that there was no chance she would be able to survive. When her attempts falter, you pull the knife out. Cleaning the knife off, you slip out of the house the way you came smirking knowing the rest of them wouldn’t have hot water for a long time.

Carefully you pack everything into your backpack you left in the woods by the house before securely zipping it. Slinging a strap over your shoulder, you start to head back to your apartment. You emerge from the treeline right into an alleyway and into town which is bustling with college kids. Perks of living in a college town. You just turn left and make your way back to your apartment which is a bit further uptown and you notice as the people start to thin out.

You feel eyes burning into the back of your skull. Turning your head over your shoulder, you stop. At the end of the block you see a figure in all black and an identical mask standing there. Normal people would do anything but stare. Call out to the figure, turn away and walk, call the police, something except just stand there silently and face off with this killer. Copycat killer that is. You suppose you’d have fans, sick and twisted probably, but you didn’t expect you’d end up creating a copycat killer. Not that you minded, actually the gesture touched you actually. People had been too stupid to realize it was a copycat but not you.

After all, their first kill happened to be one of your best friends you recently dropped.

You can’t even remember why but you arrived to apologize and found her body on the floor, throat cut. It was a bit messy. The cut wasn’t as clean as you would’ve expected and there was blood everywhere. Even on the poor bitch’s hands. Then you realize that there’s a few stab wounds. Seemed she put up a fight before whoever did it got the kill. Then someone clears their throat and you raise your gaze.

There you saw him.

An identical ghostface mask, black long sleeve shirt, jeans, and sneakers. Personally you preferred boots but to each their own. As much as some little sane part in your head told you to stop judging this person’s choice in shoes and run, you stood there staring because god he was so *distracting*. Honestly, the tight fit long sleeve should be illegal for killers to wear. It clung to him defining each curve of his muscle and you couldn’t help but get turned on because well–they’re a well fit masked killer.

“Did you do this?”

The killer nodded. Silence fell upon the two of you before you finally asked, “why?”

“...Why?” The voice asked. A shiver ran down your spine hearing the low murmur. A voice modulator just like you. Smart and well fit? Shit, “that’s all you can ask? Why? Aren’t you supposed to be running and screaming?”

“Well I find that a bit stupid,” you retort, “you’re right here. Masked or not, you're taller. You have length compared to my short legs. I might have you in agility and you’re a bit messy with your killing. Shaky in the hands.” You tilt your head to the masked figure with a small smirk. You watch the figure tighten his grip on the hilt of the knife before he’s in front of you in about four steps. You gasp as your head is yanked back by your hair, knife against your throat.

“Are you asking to be killed right now?”

“I mean you gonna fuck me before you kill me?”

Ghostface reels their head back slightly. Stupidly, they loosen their grip from the shock. Taking your chance, you grab the first with the knife and twist it away from you. They shout out in pain as you get your hair free and release their wrist before kicking the figure harshly in the stomach. You step on the figure’s chest a bit harshly. Smirking down at him, “expect the unexpected sweetheart. But you never answered me. Why?”

You can hear something faintly. You cannot believe this guy is mumbling. Leaning down slightly, you turn your ear, “I can’t hear you,” you tease.

“I did it for you.”

Now you’re stunned. You lean back slightly, hand over your heart. You don’t dare move though. You expect it to be some sick joke but the laughter never came. You bite your bottom lip having half the mind to suck him off right then and there. You stay strong though. Instead, you move to stand over the figure and bend down and hook a finger under his mask. His hand flies to your wrist and you laugh.

“I’m not gonna take your mask off,” you explain, “Trust me. Right now I am getting extremely horny and I don’t think I can handle you being ugly under the mask. Would just completely kill the mood.” You laugh hearing the figure let out an offended noise, “but aren’t you sweet,” you tilt your finger up and the figure follows, lifting his chin, “don’t be a stranger, yeah? Now, you should get off so I can feign the heartbroken emotional ex- best friend.”

Ghostface is in front of you now. He’s got your chin between his thumb and finger staring down at you and you blink as you come out of your memory. He’s close and you can hear his soft breathing which forces your own breath to hitch. You curl and uncurl your fingers and you hear a small huff behind the mask accompanied by a smirk you assume. “My,” he murmurs softly, “what do we have here. You shouldn’t be walking alone at night like this little one. You never know what lurks in the dark.”

You take a deep breath to keep your voice even. Pressing your thighs together you try so hard to stop the heat that’s starting to spread through your body. You should not be getting this turned on but how could you not? You had a copycat killer who kept killing people that you had issues with somehow and someway. “I–” You start, biting your bottom lip trying to find the words but you’re cut off with a chuckle.

“You’re so worked up for me. I can see it in the clench of your legs, the flush on your cheeks, the way your pupils dilate and the way you bite your lip for me. You don’t even know who I am. I could be a total stranger, who followed you home one night and just never stopped, but I could also be your best friend, that you’ve known for years, who you think you know like the back of your hand. You don’t even know. But I know one thing for certain though- I’m sure your panties, if you’re even fucking wearing any, are already soaked.”

You hate the fact he’s right. Your breathing slightly heavy as your eyes widen as you listen. Shifting, you clench your thighs even tighter as one of your hands slips between your thighs slightly. You can’t see his eyes but you can feel his stare bruning into yours and you actually look away. This hasn’t happened before.

“Look. At. Me.”

Your eyes snap back and your mouth hangs open slightly. You can feel how wet you are every time you shift and by god do you need something here. “What do you want, love?”

“I would very much like to take you up on that offer and suck you off,” you nod your head in the direction of the alleyway.

“Excited, aren’t we?”

“We’ve been at this for months of fucking course I’m excited.”

He grips your jaw tightly, “I’d watch that tone if I were you. I can happily just walk away and leave you here alone.” Your eyes travel downwards and spy his half hard bulge against his jeans and then back up, “I can handle myself and sleep much more satisfied than you probably would with your fingers,” leaning close to your ear, “but I’d be a fool to leave you so desperate without giving you a taste.” Your eyes nearly roll into the back of your head but he lets go of your jaw and spins you around, smacking your ass. You startled with a yelp before quickly scurrying to the alleyway.

Any sane person, seeing the alleyway lead to the woods, probably would have taken the chance to run but not you. You were so desperate to finally fuck this copy cat that you spun around as he rounded the corner. You gasped as your back slams against the brick wall feeling pain through your shoulder for only a brief moment as your hands fly to Ghostface’s wrist as he holds you there by your throat. Oddly enough your calm even though he could easily choke you as your breathing becomes a bit more jaded. Lifting his mask slightly you stare at the slightly chapped but pink lips as you drop your bag. They look so familiar, why?

You can’t really think longer on it as he moves his hand up to your jaw tightly and his lips are on your neck as you gasp for air. He wedges his knee between your legs and immediately you roll your hips whining loudly. You let your eyes drift close as the figure litters your neck in kisses along with marks. You let the figure tilt your head so he can litter the otherside in matching marks. Your nails dig into his wrist earning a hiss against your neck. When he pulls back your eyes stare at his lips and you’re so tempted for a taste. You find yourself starting to lean in before he’s pushing you onto your knees. Blinking, you're now eye level with his obvious bulge and glance up at him fixing his mask.

Dropping your gaze, your hands get straight to work. Undoing his jeans you pull the zipper down before pulling his pants down just enough. You hold your breath seeing the outline of his cock because oh it looks so much bigger than you’ve had which…was very few. There was only one way to really find the truth. You let your fingers dance across the waistband of his boxers before you tug, cock basically popping free. You lean back with wide eyes because it is bigger than you’ve had. It’s actually the biggest you’ve ever had. The length was maybe just an inch or two over average which was impressive enough but it was the girth that really made your mouth water and the precum leaking out just makes you drool.

Gently wrapping a hand around his cock, the figure’s breath hitches as he bucks his hip. You give a few experimental tugs not really for a reaction but more so to get a feel of him in your hand. Big. Girthy. Heavy. God, how pent up was he? You feel fingers through your head as you continue to cautiously jerk him off before licking the tip. The reaction pulled out of the figure was a low satisfied groan and it encourages you to take the tip of his cock into your mouth. You swirl your tongue around the tip before sucking, alternating between the two before you finally you’re ready.

If you had known how big he was you would’ve been a bit more…prepared. You weren’t naive enough to think you could take all of him down your throat. God no. Maybe with some training and patience later if the figure would let you but you didn’t have either of those things or really time on your side. Still, you had to make sure to keep the figures interested in you- even if he’s killed for you already. Better safe than sorry, right?

Hollowing your cheeks out and flattening your tongue on the underside of his cock, you start to suck him off. Bobbing your head you can’t help but feel a bit of a rush go to your head as the figure above lets out another loud ground. You glance up to see the figure’s neck as his head is tilted back. You're absolutely drenched watching him and find yourself slipping a hand into your own pants and moan around him as you rub your clit. That catches his attention as his head snaps down to look at you.

“Naughty girl. You’re so turned on from sucking me off that you have to touch yourself?” It earns a strangled whine, “such a pathetic slut.”

You can’t help but moan at that. “Wow. You are so fucking pathetic it’s adorable.” The figure coos and grips your hair to stop you. Shifting, he puts one foot in front of you and smirks, “here why don’t you just hump my leg while you’re at it.” He taunts.

Funny enough you’ll take him up on that. The moment he frees your head you go back to bobbing your head on his cock humming in delight as you hug his leg, settling on his foot and grind your hips down. If your lips weren’t so occupied at the moment you would smirk at the shocked reaction you pull from the figure but you’re lost in your own world. The stretch of your jaw combined with the already dull ache lulls you into a peaceful trance. You completely ignore the spit that’s starting to wet your chin.

You feel the figure’s other hand gently grab your jaw trapping you in place suddenly. You stared up with doe eyes as the figure fucked your face before you felt him hit the back of your throat. You gagged and your hands flew to his thighs for some stability as he repeated the action. “So fucking good. Taking my cock,” the figure grunts out and tears prick your eyes when he stops moving and you gag because he’s so far down your throat. He pulls off just enough for you to gasp and get some air before he’s back in your mouth and fucking your face again. You’re prepared for it this time as you relax your throat and gag less.

Having lulled yourself into such a peaceful you nearly let your eyes slip close. Sliding your hands down, you wrap your arms around Ghostface’s leg as you continue to fuck yourself against his foot while he fucked your mouth. You ended up tuning everything else out except him and listening to him ramble was going to get you off alone. ‘Such a gorgeous cock drunk whore’, ‘you look so pathetic humping my leg while you let me fuck your mouth it should be illegal’, and ‘you’d look so beautiful being my personal cock drunk slut’. It’s the one you made out between all the groans and moans and curses. You felt his tug at your hair as a warning and you finally opened your eyes.

“Fuck–shit–I’m gonna–” He groaned but doesn’t stop his thrusting. He does the opposite as he picks the pace up. That’s all the encouragement you needed. You find your hips onto his foot even harder and faster as you. You feel the familiar coil in your abdomen and you’re trying so hard to reach it. He snaps his hips forward and forces himself down your throat. Your eyes go wide and you gag, choking on his cock as he spills into your throat. You hit his thighs and try to focus on breathing through your nose but even still the rough face fucking before forced deep throating was enough to send you over the edge. You groan and whine as you continue to hump his foot before he pulls you off his cock and slips his foot out from under you.

Sitting there, you gasp for air as your chest heaves. You look up at Ghostface and lick your lips slowly as you debate if you wanna turn over and let him fuck you right now. He would. For sure…probably and he taste good to. But that would be giving too much. You were the original after all. Finding your footing, you stand up and slide your pants down. There’s a choked sound from Ghostface and you glance over at the figure looking away.

“Seriously?” You raise a brow and giggle, “you just fucked my face but you get all bashful about seeing me in my panties.”

“I–well. I mean. No–” This one sucked at lying. Rolling your eyes, you look away as you take your pants off before sliding your panties off. “What are…” Ghostface’s voice trails off as you stuff your soiled panties into his front jeans pocket. “Consider it an IOU,” you say as you hurriedly put your pants back on. You’re grabbing your bag before the figure gets a chance, “this was fun but I have to run. My friend is coming over for a movie night and he’ll be pissed if I’m not there,” you sigh dreamily at the end of the alleyway, “he’s so caring like that. Anyway, bye!” You say before you’re slinging your back over as you take off. You get home and quickly change into some pajama panties (with new panties) and a sweatshirt before finding yourself settled on the couch while flipping through for a movie.

Hearing keys jingle you look up, you smile at your best friend walking in. You two are so close that he has his own copy. Oscar’s in a baggy grey hoodie with some black jeans on as he takes his shoes off before making his way to the back of the couch. He smiles slightly at you and offers dinner but you decline. As he turns for the kitchen, you spy something hanging out of Oscar’s pocket. It looks like a fabric of some sorts. Watching him in the kitchen, you decide to get some water. Quietly getting off the couch you stand in the doorway. Oscar continues to cook himself dinner and you wait until he’s focused on whatever is in the pan to strike. Passing behind him, your eyes drop down and your breathing stops. Black lacy panties with red roses on them. You look up at Oscar who’s glancing at you over his shoulder. His gaze follows yours and he smirks.

“Can I cash that IOU now, darling?”

#starlight library presents;#oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri smut #op81 x reader #op81 smut #op81 imagine #oscar piastri x reader smut #f1 reader #f1 smut #f1 imagine #ghostface!oscar #ghostface!oscar smut #starlight library fiction #contains dark themes #mentions of murder #mentions of blood #smutty #bit toxic??#for the love of god read the warning

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marchsfreakshow · 2 months ago

Text

The Small Things [Tate Langdon]

Tooth rotting fluff ! / A little short thing

Tate was practically almost always over, but never failed to make you feel like you were special.

Everyone thank @marchsfreak for giving me this cute ass idea! I genuinely love it and find it adorable<3 I'm so sorry this took so long, i've been feeling dreadful recently. (So my writing isn't up to my normal standards sorry-)

Not proofread lol

No one's perspective

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

Tate loved being held by you.

Possibly the only thing he could love anymore.

You were scooped up into his arms whenever possible, and stay like that for as long as you humanly could. Wether or not you were straddling him and just playing with his shirt, or Tate was laying in front of you, letting your arms wrap around his torso. It never failed to make the ghost smile. It was all he craved, more than anything, in the drab murder house.

"Tate!" You squealed, your arms instinctvely wrapping around his shoulders to keep yourself hoisted up. Tate's response was just a little chuckle and a wider smile, since your laugh was all he wanted to hear right now. He tightened his grip on your body and legs, walking around the dim basement. Each time you felt his hands, even jokingly, start to loosen under you, your grip on his shoulders and neck tightened, curling up best you could by his chest. "You actually get off on this! This is just cruel..."

"not cruel at all! I like feeling you up close and personal." The ghost chuckled again, almost curling you like some weights just because. As much as you enjoyed being lifted like it was nothing, your mother soon called your name from the top of the basement.

Begrudgingly, Tate let you go, holding onto the small of your back as he let you stand up. His fingers still lingered on your shirt as you started to walk back up to the house. The talk realistically only lasted about 5 minutes, but to the ghost it felt like forever. Time always went so much slower, when you were dead. As soon as the idea came into Tate's head, he silently jumped his way up the stairs, hiding himself behind the open door.

"I'm back." You started, starting to make your way down the creaky steps. There was silence for a moment and it only confused you. "Tate?" You asked down into the dim, dingy basement. Every step only worried you further. As you walked down, you took a deep breath, assuming Tate was about to pull something that could scare you. Like usual.

As soon as your foot stepped on the basement floor, Tate's arms scoped you up. His arms wrapping around your front tightly and lifting you up effortlessly. Your feet suddenly leaving the ground made a scream evict from your mouth. "OH MY GOD TATE-!" A sly smile was felt against your neck as your hands gripped onto the ghost's arms tightly. "Put me downnn!" You whined a bit with your legs still in the air for a second.

Instead of a verbal response, Tate just placed you down on the old couch, immediately laying himself on top of you. His face hiding in your neck. The ghost's arms rested on your shoulders as your own snaked around his back. One hand slowly starting to pet at his hair, the other rubbing his back. "You happy now you weird blondie?"

"Very." He murmered, putting a kiss to your neck.

"yeah? Good.." You muttered back, placing a kiss back onto Tate's hair. It only took a few minutes of the sweet silence between you before the ghost promptly fell asleep. "Who knew ghosts were so sleepy all the time hm?" You teased to no one, as Tate barely hummed in reply, snuggling himself closer to you. If he wasn't close enough already to be honest.

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

Tags: @babygorewhore / @taintandviolent / @oceanblvd111 / @nahoyasboyfriend / @coentinim / @slutforgarlogan / @briaroftheroses @am3ricanh0rrorwh0re /. @evanpeterspeter / @feefymo / @fear-is-truth / @lacucarachapisser / @saintlucretia / @jazz-berry / @t8-ak47 / @lemoniiiiiii / @xrag-dollx

#ahs #american horror story #ahs murder house #american horror story murder house #ahs fic #ahs imagine #tate langdon #tate langdon x reader #tate langdon x y/n #tate langdon x you #tate langdon fluff #evan peters #x reader #fluff

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missmonsters2 · 2 years ago

Note

🥶

WandaNat

Pairing: WandaNat x Fem!Reader

Warnings: awkward!reader. clint slander. WandaNat no mercy.

Note: i miss them

Masterlist || Library Blog || AO3

Count: 999 (🧍‍♀️)

Reminder there's no taglist but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘

Please do not copy, repost, or translate my work anywhere else.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

This was your worst nightmare—trapped between the bodies of two incredibly hot, kind, and funny women.

And no, it wasn't in the sexy way—your brain refused to even let you go down that route. You'd implode at even the slightest thought of it.

This was Clint's fault, you quietly seethed, plotting his gruesome murder that could later be turned into a true crime podcast. Laura will have to be a widowed single mother, and the children will have to grow up fatherless, but surely it was for the best.

"Come down to visit us!" Clint said to you, your mind mimicking his voice unflatteringly. "It's been way too long since you guys came to stay with us."

It was a normal occurrence; you thought nothing of it. You, Wanda, and Natasha often went to stay with Clint and his family quarterly. Natasha visited more with her girlfriend, Wanda, and they invited you every time, but you settled that four times a year was enough.

It was usually fun, and the time spent was enjoyable, so you really had thought nothing about it.

Until Clint decided he was actually the incarnate of the devil and condemned you for some undisclosed sin.

"Oh, you three are cool sharing a room, right? The other spare bedroom is under renovation. I mean, one of you can take the couch but I highly don't recommend it with what the kids have spilled on it over the years."

No, it wasn't okay, you wanted to say at the time, but Wanda and Natasha nonchalantly waved Clint off and told him it was fine, and the conversation breezed on, never to be returned to again.

Why would he invite all three of you if there wasn't enough space!? You tried to tell Wanda and Natasha that you could drive to the nearest hotel at night, but they looked at you strangely and asked if you hated them. It was jokingly, but you could hear a tinge of hurt in their voice, which silenced you from offering to leave again.

But now you were suffering.

The bed was way too small for three people but left enough room for just a couple of inches to keep you from coming into skin-to-skin contact with either redhead.

You stared at the ceiling, despite being unable to make out any details of the room in the darkness.

Why the fuck were you in the middle?

You should've been on the edge. At least then, you could hang half your body off it to keep some distance.

You started at the edge of the bed—make no mistake. But then Natasha came to your side and asked you to scootch over. You assumed she preferred sleeping on the right side, so you started to make your way down to the other side. But then, to your horror, Wanda climbed in from the other end, effectively trapping you in the middle.

The words were caught in your throat as you tried to force them out and ask if you could have the edge, but Natasha and Wanda mumbled their goodnights before promptly falling asleep.

This was unacceptable; you mentally cried. This was—weird. You know that Wanda and Natasha have been together for ages, and they probably didn't care, but it was strange to be in the middle of them like this. You're way too awkward for this.

It brought up the unwanted feelings you've been trying to get rid of for months.

The worst part was that it was winter, and this room was so fucking cold. Was Clint going through financial hardship? Why isn't there any heat in this room?

You wished him ill, you wished him ill, you wished bad things upon Clint Barton.

You shifted, trying to pull the blanket up higher and shrink yourself to retain some of the heat. You turned on your side, facing Wanda's back, and frowned. You could practically feel the heat radiating off her and wanted to scoot away from her. But you couldn't. You'd scoot right into Natasha, who was also radiating heat as she faced your back.

At this moment, you hated them for being so unaware of their temptations.

You swallowed. Moving a little closer to Wanda wouldn't be too bad, right? Just to steal a bit more of her warmth, so you could fall asleep and wake up early to get out of bed.

You scooted a little closer, your nose just inches away from her back since there wasn't much wiggle room. Her heat emitted off her like a goddamn fireplace, and you sighed a little at the warmth on your nose and the parts of your cheeks.

It was still pretty cold, and you shivered a little.

Your movement seemed to wake Wanda as she lifted her head to look around at you. You looked like a deer caught in the headlights. Turning back, Wanda lay her head back down and shut her eyes with a yawn.

You started to scoot back to where you were, but Wanda grabbed your wrist from under the blanket and pulled it over her waist as she shuffled back into you.

The warmth pressed against your front jolted you, and you were stiff, despite how good it felt.

"любимая, she's cold," Wanda mumbled in the dark as she threaded her fingers through yours.

Wanda was clearly speaking to Natasha because the redhead behind you shifted and moved closer until she was pressed against your back snuggly. Her arms wrapped around your midsection as she tangled her legs through yours.

You wanted to die.

You wanted to kill Clint Barton and then run into oncoming traffic.

"Um," you croaked.

"Is this better?" Natasha mumbled sleepily, and she was so close you felt her lips move against your shoulder.

No.

Yes.

No.

"Uh," you dragged out before finally deciding with an awkward stiff, "Yes."

It was warm—almost too warm now. You closed your eyes with a silent groan.

You weren't getting any sleep tonight.

#wanda maximoff x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #wandanat x reader #wanda maximoff x you #natasha romanoff x you #wandanat x you #wanda maximoff imagine #natasha romanoff imagine #wandanat imagine #wanda maximoff fluff #natasha romanoff fluff #mm: my fics #mm.drabble.wandanat

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mushies-stories · 1 year ago

Text

Our perfect girl

Billy X Reader X Stu

Stu reeled you in, now it's time to show you how much Billy wants you too.

the boys managed to get away and have made it to collage where they meet the reader. the reader doesn't know about the boy's 'hobby' or verry much about the murders in the first place.

Warnings: SMUT, Creampie, PNV, Female reader.

word count: 3087

SMUT BELOW

It was Stu who approached you first, seeing you at a coffee cart on campus between classes one day. He was instantly attracted to you so he brought Billy the next day to the same spot and waited for you to show up. Once they saw you approaching they got in line behind you. You were short and cute and had an aura of sweet innocents. “Hot chocolate please.” you asked the barista politely and they could practically hear the smile in your voice.

Billy made it a rule to look into anyone they planned on dating since later they may end up finding out their little secret and they wanted to at least have a chance at keeping you alive and with them. So Billy sent Stu in first Since Stu was easy to get along with and basically acted like the perfect boyfriend aside from being a psychotic murderer. He learned your interests and soon you were head over heels for him.

You had gotten to know Billy over the few months since you had met Stu and started dating him and he always seemed to be going out with another girl every other night. That didn't stop him from eyeing you up though. It was always brief and he never lingered too long but if you caught him he didn't flinch away. He simply acted as if he wasn't even looking. And Stu never seemed to notice.

Tonight Billy stayed in and you all decided to watch a scary movie. You were watching the ring, a movie you picked out because you enjoyed showing the boys Japanese horror movies the most. They were so used to slasher fics that these movies were a whole new world.

You and Stu layed on the couch with you back to his front, one arm under your head and the other across your stomach, keeping you pulled close to him. Billy sat in the chair with his legs hanging off one of the arm rests.

About hallways through the movie Stu decided he was more interested in looking down your shirt, hand now resting on your exposed thigh, dangerously close to your ass. You had told Stu you wanted to keep the PDA down when other people are around, like Billy when he stayed for movie nights. Stu didn't seem to want to follow that request tonight. He scooted himself down enough so he could lean into your neck from behind and pull you closer to himself by wrapping his arm back around your middle.

You didn't think much of it and let out a content sigh, nestling into his warmth as his breathing fanned the side of your neck.

A few moments later Stus lips were giving your neck soft kisses. Delicately he lines the side of your jaw with them. You melt everytime Stu even touches you, not having much experience before him other than an ex boyfriend from highschool you lost your virginity and promptly broke up with. You held onto the arm that was wrapped around you, gripping it soft in a warning, or a plea before you were puddy in his arms.

You felt him smirk against your soft skin before grazing his teeth softly before nipping the spot, the soft gasp that left your lips caught Billy’s attention. He glanced over and saw Stu smirking at him while you had your eyes closed and head pushed into the pillow resting between you and Stus arm.

Guess Stu wanted to surprise him, Billy thought. He hadn't told him tonight was going to be the night they told her they both wanted her. A crooked smirk played along his lips as he watched Stu adjust so his knee slid between your legs and was hovering over you, holding himself up with the arm that was under you. The other held your hips down, your eyes snapped open to see Stu smiling adoringly down at you. He just loved seeing how easily you melt for him.

You turned your head just a fraction to see Billy looking down at you with an amused smirk, legs now planted on the ground. You looked back to Stu with worry. “Stu, what about Billy?” You asked.

Stu glanced at the normally Grumpy looking man. “Well he can join, if you’d like him too princess.” He said. Leaning back down to nuzzle into your neck, continuing his sweet assault but now with sloppier kisses and sucking.

“What are yoh-ahh, talking about?” You asked between sweet soft gasps that had Billy’s dick twitch in his pants. Stu was getting both of you hot and riled up.

Stu pulled away enough to look you in the face. A hand came to your burning cheek, holding it softly as his thumb stroked over it. His knee came up to apply pressure to your growing aching core. “I said he can if you want him too, I know he does.” you looked at him with complete confusion. You didn't know what to say, was he serious…”it’s okay with me baby, we both want you. We just didn't want to scare you off right away.” he said softly, giving you a reassuring smile.

You looked at Billy who’s smirk was no longer there. Instead it was something more serious. He was waiting for your answer. They meant it. You looked back at Stu, chewing your bottom lip, contemplating. “I don’t know.” you admitted. “I still freeze up around you and my brain short circuits all the time… and the girls I see Billy with I don't think I'd be able to keep up.” Your voice almost gave out in the end. You brought your arms up over your face, wanting to hide just how embarrassed your confession made you.

Both men were more surprised that you were worried about not being good enough over them sharing you. Billy nodded to Stu to sit you up. Stu grabbed your forearms and hauled you up with him, bringing you to sit across his lap. Hands resting on your thigh and hip. Billy was standing in front of you two. You looked up at him, cheeks burning as his intense stare sent a shiver up your spine. He brought a hand to cradle the side of your jaw. “Oh sweet girl, you’re more than enough. Those girls were replacements in a way until we could talk to you.” he said softly.

The look in his eyes was soft and maybe even longing? something even you knew wasn't easy for him. Your heart fluttered in your chest. “Replacements?” You questioned. Was he really just seeing random women because he wanted you the whole time?

He nodded. “I wanted you the moment i saw you, wanted to talk to you, kiss you…” his eyes trailed over your body before meeting your eyes again. Your breath caught in your throat when his thumb came to swipe softly at your bottom lip. “What do you say angel, give me a shot. If you hit it, we stop.” He added to reassure you they wouldn't force you.

He waited for your answer, thumb lingering on the side of your jaw again, you leaning into his touch as you thought about everything. Head spinning with emotions and now a burning desire. It was Stu gripping your hip a little tighter and whispering in your ear that refocused you.

You nod once. “okay.”

Stu gently pushed you up to Billy who guided you a few steps back to the chair. You looked back at Stu who sat in his spot on the couch with a grin on his face. Sitting Billy guided you by the hips to straddle his lap. Your heart raced as his hands brought you down against him. His hardening cock pressing into your core against your flimsy shorts and you shuddered at the contact. You held onto his shoulders for support so you didn't just melt completely into him.

“Relax baby girl.” he said softly, one hand coming up to tangle in your hair at the base of your neck, the other rubbed up and down your thigh softly in a soothing motion. He was treating you like a startled animal. He looked you over with a soft smile. He flattened his hand to cradle your head gently and pulled you in, his lips gliding against your own so softly you wouldn't have imagined it was Billy Loomis if you weren’t the one in his lap. He deepened the kiss and brought his hand from your tight to grip softly at the exposed skin on your hips. You let out a content sigh into the kiss, fully relaxing into his hold.

Billy had to pull back for air but when he did the sight of your face made his dick twitch against your pussy. Your pupils were blown and you were panting softly, chest rising and falling as you caught your breath. He couldn't help it and bucked his hips up, causing you to let out a soft gasp and grip the fabric of his shirt. “Hey Stu, she alway get all worked up this fast?” he asked, grin crooked on his face. Billy rolled your hips into his just so he could watch your eyes flutter and your mouth let out the sweetest little whimpers.

“Yeah, she's pretty sensitive. Sweet girl just wants to be touched.” He chuckled, watching you with a growing hunger. “Baby are you gonna let Billy fuck your perfect little pussy?” he asked, palming his hard on through his jeans.

You felt like your voice would give out so you responded with a nod and a roll of your hips and you whined softly. Your arms came up to the sides of his neck to pull yourself closer.

Billy let his head lean on the back of the chair, his grip on your hips tightening. Stu had said you got kind of needy, light a switch flipped in your head and the only thing you could think about was being fucked but he didn’t know this was all it would take to have you practically begging.

He slid his hands down to your tights and tapped them softly to get your attention. “Hold on to me.” He said gripping your thighs and standing with you clinging to him. He walked you into Stus room, wanting to make you feel comfortable with something familiar. He tossed you onto the end of the bed and watched your breasts jiggle on impact. “Can you take your shorts and panties off for me babe?” he asked, undering his belt slowly. His motions halted when he saw you falter, your shyness taking over again as you chewed your bottom lip. .

Stu leaned against the door frame watching you figure out how to act. He thought it was adorable how attached to him you were but also how much you wanted to let Billy in. “You can do it baby, show him how wet you are for him.” he encouraged you with a grin.

You nodded and your hands traveled down to the waistband of your shorts and tugged them down and over your knees along with your panties, Letting them fall to the ground. Billy brought his hands to hold your legs apart before you could get shy again and try to hide yourself. A groan rumbled in his chest when he saw how wet you were. He slid a finger through your folds and you shuddered at the contact “how much do you want me to touch you sweet girl?”. He asked, voice low and full of lust. He slide a finger into your tight hole

You looked at him through half lidded eyes. “Billy~” His name fell so sweetly from your plump lips it made his heart skip a beat. He slid his finger slowly out of you and brought the digit to his mouth where he sucked your juices off with a little pop. your face heated up and your hips wiggled at the loss of contact to your needy pussy.

He couldn't bother with taking his clothes off now, he shimmied his pants and boxers down enough so his throbbing cock could spring free. He wasn’t as long as Stu but he was thicker and his cock had your head spinning with anticipation anyways. You let out a soft whine when he finally settles between your plush thighs and lines the head at the entrance of your tight hole, he ran his cock through your slick folds, savoring the soft sounds you made below him. “Tell me babygirl, how much do you want my cock filling this pretty pussy.” He asked again, cock pushing at your tight hole.

You looked at him with pleading eyes. “Please Billy, I need you.” You begged, voice quit and urgent.

With a low groan Billy began to slowly sink his cock into you, he watched your eyes roll to the back of your head as a soft strangled moan pushed past your lips. “Fuckin tight baby.” he said through gritted teeth, finally bottiming out in you. Your hands had already found their way around his neck to pull him closer.

He waited a moment to let you get used to him before his lips found yours. In a heated kiss his hips began a slow gentle pace, fucking into you like you were a delicate flower. You whined and bucked up against him to urge him to fuck you faster. He pulled away and looked down at your beat red face as his hips rocked gently into you. “What baby, Need more?” he teased, loving how your pussy fluttered around him.

You shook your head and looked at him with eyes that had even him melting. “Please~ more Billy.” You brought your legs up to wrap around him, pulling him deeper into you.

A growl rumbled in his chest at your actions. “Dirty girl, begging for my cock, fuck.” He said, struggling to keep himself contained. Stu said you liked to be fucked dumb but he also knew Stu was nicer than him during sex. Stu wanted to please his partners more than anything and Billy normally just wanted to destroy their pussies. But with you, he wanted to make you feel good so he picked up the pace and deepened his thrusts. Your back arched into him and a lustful moan left your lips.

Stu was enjoying his show, seeing Billy be so tender with you and you responding so perfectly to him made him proud of both of you. He wanted Billy to have his chance with you, to experience all of you and for you to get to know Billy better before they started the fun games with all of you.

Billy’s head was beginning to fog up with the sounds of his cock fucking your whined for him to fuck you harder. He did and you let out a whale of a moan. He leaned in to catch your lips once again in a crushing kiss. Lips smashing against each other as his tongue explored your mouth, eating every sweet moan and gasp you let out. His hips snapped into you, cock hitting your sweet spot every time.

From behind him Stu decided to let out some wisdom. “Her neck is pretty sensitive, and she just loses it when you touch her clit at the same time.” He informared his partner.

Your brain was so full of feeling Billy’s dick fucking you into oblivion you could barley register what your boyfriend even said. But Billy did and caused him to break your kiss and adore your fucked out face, eyes closing with each thrust to your g-spot. He slid a hand between your bodies and the pad of his thumb came to rub small circles on your swollen bud. You're through your head back with a needy whine.

Billy drank the site of you in, his cock disappearing into your tight hole, sucking him in as your whither bellow him. “Fucking beautiful. So perfect baby girl.” He praised as your mind was drifting father and farther into pleasure. “Gonna cum for me? Cum all over my cock that you're taking so well?” He said between breaths.

Your arms and legs gripped him tighter, not allowing him room to pull away. “Fuck.” he grit out through a clenched jaw. Your pussy was gripping his cock so tight he wasn't going to last that much longer. He leaned his head down to your neck and began sucking the soft skin below your ear. He nipped softly and left small kisses behind before finding a new spot to assault with his teeth.

You arched into him, pleading and strangling moans for him to let you cum fill the room. “pleaAh- Billy!” you whaled, finding it hard to form words. With his thumb on your clit and his mouth attacking your neck Billy pounded into your pussy with his own release bubbling up. A few more thrust and your legs were tightening around his hips and a vice-like hold. “Fu-uuuck!” you screamed as your walls clenched around the thick mass filling your pussy. Your high took over you with no warning, the only thing you could do was hold onto Billy who was now rutting himself into you given the little space you allowed him to move.

His own release followed right after, his hot cum filled your pussy as he groaned and bucked against you, cock twitched as he emptied himself in you. “Fuck baby, fucking pussy is taking everyting.” He said into your ear as you both came down from your highs.

He pulled back and grinned at your fucked out form, mouth hanging open with his cock still barried deep in your pussy that was now fluttering around his cock. He slowly pulled his softening cock out and watched as his cum seeped out of your little hole.

“Told you she was perfect.” Stu said, now walking over to the two of you to stand beside your fucked out body. “She likes when you cum in her, keeps you there so you can't get away.” his hand moved damp hair away from your face, loving your cock drunk face.

“Yeah I noticed.” Billy said with a chuckle, still catching his breath. “Fucking perfect.” he said, giving you a crooked grin.

“So, how's' bout it babe? Got it in you for one more?” Stu grinned down at you, watching the sparkle of desire reignite in your eyes.

#scream #scream1996 #scream x reader #ghost face #ghostface x reader #billy loomis #stu matcher x reader #billy loomis x reader #scream1996x reader #billy loomis smut #Stu macher x reader smut #billy loomis x reader smut

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double--blind · 1 year ago

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(SPOILERS) Andrew and plausible deniability, OR: mfer doesn't wanna be held accountable for his actions

This has been churning in my head for a while (I am mentally ill 🥴), but a large part of the driving force behind Andy and his actions is his aversion to blame. He sorta shares this w/Ashley (she's got quite a few rants abt how things aren't her fault), but I believe Andrew takes it just a step further.

I've seen many say this before, but from the start of the game, you'll notice that even beyond normal moral quandaries, Andrew's first objection to any horrific action Ashley proposes is usually a variance of "what if we get caught?". He objects not bc her ideas are ethically repugnant, but bc they could be found out as having done them, and he knows rationally that others know they're bad. This goes as far back as childhood with the Nina incident. He fears punishment and the threat of prison more than he apparently worries about what his crimes might mean for him as a person or what they might mean for the people that might be affected by them (save him and Ashley). This doesn't mean he doesn't feel guilt or have nightmares abt them, but they're not his first priority. Trouble's a pain to deal with, and the dude's low-energy.

In fact, most of his guilt seems largely self-centered. Like, no exaggeration: if it isn't about either him or Ashley (which is, in a way, lowkey also about him), then he couldn't really care less. Do you recall him ever expressing worry or remorse on Nina's behalf? Mourning her? We think Ashley's the one w/empathy issues, but Andrew's in the same boat imo. Self-preservation and self-interest is all that's keeping him seemingly amiable enough for polite society, bc for the most part, he really couldn't be bothered.

In his dreams, the victims of their murders are just bodies: interchangeable, holding no more meaning beyond the fact that they're dead. Any corpse's limb will do to replace the one Ashley cooked—never mind that they may be from different people—bc they're all the same to him. Even Julia, sitting in her dorm room surrounded by evidence of Ashley's harassment, gets no sympathy from Andrew. For the most part, he elects to ignore it all, and regards Julia herself with a detached sorta nostalgia tinged in no small part with apathy.

img txt: You'll never see her again. And the fact that it doesn't really bother you, bothers you.

(The only things of notable worth from her were the colored pencils on her desk, which he promptly takes from her to give to Leyley instead, and isn't that just some crazy symbolism right there?)

His fear of punishment goes hand-in-hand with his desperate pursuit of plausible deniability. Everything he does, he does under certain self-imposed conditions. If it's Ashley's idea and he argues back, it doesn't matter in the end if he goes along with it, bc it was Ashley's idea in the first place. He's just there to make sure she doesn't get them in trouble, bc she needs him, bc he's gotta take care of her. Even if it's not her idea at all (e.g., killing the closet warden, killing the lady in room 302), it's still her fault, bc he did it for her, bc everything he does, he does for her.

Ashley's a manipulative, evil lil possessive gremlin w/a soul as black as tar, and Andy's a doormat, but don't think for a second that part of him doesn't use that dynamic a little to keep from reflecting on what he is. He suffocates under it, but he also relies on it. If there's any sort of plausible deniability available, he'll take it and run with it.

The truth of the matter is that they're both deeply toxic, warped individuals. The difference is that Ashley's owned up to it and quite frankly doesn't care. Andrew hasn't. He's the "normal" one.

Now, for the funky incest part (what we're all here for babyyyyy)—

We've all seen the flavor text abt the bed-sharing by now, right?

img txt: Oh yeah, you tooootally have nightmares as often as you claim.

We know for a fact that aside from some light teasing, maybe, Ashley would have no problem whatsoever with sharing a bed w/Andrew. Heck, she'll coax him into bed (demo) or climb onto the couch with him (ep 2) w/o any prompting from him whatsoever, just bc she feels like it. Andrew, apparently, can't do the same. He doesn't allow himself this intimacy of his own choosing, so he has to lie and pretend to get it if he wants it. He's greedy for her, too, but he can't let himself show it.

If something is sufficiently too intimate in his eyes, beyond anything he can excuse away for some reason or another, then he'll stop himself from doing it. Just like how he wouldn't let himself succumb to the urge of pulling Ashley into his arms to make her smile, but is willing to give her a hug when she asks for it in front of their parents.

He insists on the extra expense of two beds, and then cites his nightmares and panic attacks as the driving force behind crawling into bed w/her, bc then it isn't really his fault now, is it? He tried to stay away, after all. He did! He just didn't have a choice!

Lol

Andrew can't admit to wanting this—buries those feelings and thoughts as deep as he can so they fester and bleed, the repressed idiot—so he gives Ashley all the power to decide how close they get. It's in Ashley's hands. He's free of that hassle.

Which is why the post-sex vision, and Ashley's reaction to it, is so dangerous. @csg-iii made a good point about it in my last post:

img txt: I think the biggest point about "11" is that Andrew asks/begs Ashley for reassurance that it will never happen ("never say never"). It's a subtle admission that if she really wants it to happen, he knows he won't be able to resist his own urges. His only ""hope"" of avoiding going there is if Ashley doesn't want it.

Andrew, in absolving himself of this choice and putting it in Ashley's hands, shoots himself in the foot, bc what if Ashley goes the whole mile? Then the only real thing keeping his desires unrealized was the fact that they had never been voiced as an option before.

He doesn't want to think of himself as someone who'd bone his own sister. Forget being a cannibal, demon summoner, or a murderer; those titles were foisted upon him. This is too close to something real that he carries inside him; this isn't anything Ashley's buried in him, but rather something of his own invention. Something he'll definitely have to take responsibility for.

#the coffin of andy and leyley #tcoaal #coffincest #andrew graves #txt post #yeah......... I'm rambling again sorry guys #character analysis

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tange-my-rine · 9 months ago

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Temporary Fix || Tangerine x gn!reader

Summary: You and Tangerine weren't complicated, sometimes you'd see him on the job and he'd provide you... stress relief. It was easy, so easy. It wasn't supposed to be anything else, just friends (barely acquaintances really) doing what you both needed. It wasn't like you could have someone on the job anyway. You didn't think it was anything that would change. But, he had never seen you hurt before, and when a job goes wrong, well... everything changes.

TW: friends with benefits (for now), mentioned sex (but nothing graphic), protective! Tangerine, possessive!Tangerine, violence, blood, murder, guns, gunshot wounds, mentioned death, cursing (it's Tangerine), and all things bullet train.

[[A/N: yes this is a one direction title, what about it??? also the reader's codename is 'Mouse', you work with Ladybug. Tan calls you pretty but who doesn't to be called pretty?? This is got really long, sorry !!!]]

You were pretty good at your job, your messes weren't messy and your kills were organized, clean really. (Your agency did have a cleanup crew for when things got out of hand, so your work still stayed pristine even when it did get messy.) That's how you got your code name, Mouse, because you were in and out of a location as quiet 'as a mouse'.

You're not sure when you met the twins, but you do remember it was bloody. Something about you showing up to your gig and a trail of blood led you through the building right into their presence. You'd somehow known it was the twins (kind of because of the mess) but otherwise because there was two of them -stuck like glue.

The barrel of two guns pointed at your head, and you shared your mission, and they theirs, which were actually totally unrelated. Needless to say, you got out of there with your USB drive. (Mostly because of Lemon, Tangerine wouldn't have flinched if he pulled the trigger.)

It just kept happening. Undercover missions, hits, and even work you had to travel to, somehow they ended up in the same place. Not always for the same work, you should say, but same destination. You'd originally thought it was some sort of coo, that they were trailing you but after confronting them (and Tangerine saying he didn't 'give a fuck about your whereabouts'), the idea was void.

The first time your... situation had started was one of your missions where you went undercover. Some sort of fancy charity gala, if you remember correctly, and Tangerine was there. Just Tangerine, he didn't tell you why -he hardly even wanted to speak to you.

You'd offhandedly said something about all the rich people being attractive, and how it wasn't fair. He'd promptly said, "You don't have to worry about bein' attractive, love, you're the prettiest one here."

He wasn't flirting, or you didn't think he was -he didn't even smile, or smirk, or anything- just spoke over the rim of his cup and took a long drink after. Your eyes darted to his Adam's apple for a second, you'll admit it.

Nothing else happened that night, you didn't flirt. You don't know what did it, not at all, he just kept looking at you -small little, intense, glances. Once again, you thought nothing of it.

Well, until he pulled you into a closet and kissed the literal breath out of you.

And, well, the rest is easy to figure out.

It didn't happen all the time, not every mission, but sometimes, when the adrenaline was high. You called each other when you weren't on the same mission; he'd done it after the first time, and you followed suit. It was easy, so easy.

That brings you to today, it was supposed to be a grab-and-go, easy. Except for the whole full building of people part, it was an office actually and you needed the CEO. There were so many civilians, but you were Mouse -you'd be in and out so quick, they wouldn't even see you.

Your intel was wrong.

The whole place was filled with bodyguards, and security, head-to-toe, filled. You were good at your job, but you were outnumbered -so incredibly outnumbered.

Needless to say, your disguise of an office worker didn't work.

There was blood tainting your skin, your head on a swivel -fuzzy and pounding. Your were on the third floor, hidden in a janitors closet -the smell of cleaner burnt your nose and made your eyes water.

Your chest heaving and your hands shaking, you were overwhelmed -you couldn't do this alone. God knows how many men were on the last two floors. And you were 90% sure your ribs were broken on your right side, your leg was shot, and your shoulder was shot -you couldn't move. No way you were going up the stairs. You weren't even sure you could leave the building at this point-

You were bleeding out, actually, if the wooziness in your head meant anything.

Your comm was broken on the first floor, you'd cussed and thrown it to the ground. So, even if it still worked, it was lost -long gone of the concrete floors.

You were totally and completely fucked.

Then, you felt something in your pocket, rubbing against your clothes -scratching against the fabric. It buzzed then, low and under the hollowness of your breath; you barely heard it -a pounding in your ears so loud, you think it was your heartbeat.

You breathed out, pulling your phone out with your hand that wasn't lax on the floor -your shoulder wasn't fun to move.

The text flashed across your screen, Tangerine. It was a little blurry, your head spinning but if you focused you could read it.

'You home?'

Something in you sighed, deep and broken; maybe this was the last time you'd ever speak to him. You'd kind of become fond of him, all blue eyes and broad shoulders -his accent and the way his lips would creak up when he smiled at you. You ached for something you didn't have, you realized.

What a fucking time to realize it-

You typed out a message, painstakingly, a single finger -slow and deliberate, 'No. Job. Bleeding out, hidden. Too many.'

Your head was pounding, but you pushed through it, typing, 'I'm sorry, Tan.'

Your hand loosened, laying slack on your lap -your head hurt, maybe you could rest your eyes for a little bit. Not long, just a second to get the pounding out of your head.

Before you could fully do it, the phone in your lap jostled vibrating -it nearly fell, clattering onto the concrete floor but you grabbed it. Not eager to be found, you could die now but you would die if they found you.

Your eyes flickered across your screen, Tangerine flashed along it, shaking in your hand; he was calling you.

Something in you made you gather the strength to swipe and answer it -maybe to hear his voice again, or to say goodbye. You weren't sure, god you were so tired.

"Mouse," his accent spilled out, pointed, "-fuckin' Mouse, can you hear me, love?"

"Hey, Tan," you croaked out -voice rough and low, still not wanting to get caught and wanting to laugh -you didn't want to die sad, "-funny hearing from you."

"Mouse," he didn't react, seemed to be moving, you could hear his footsteps -loud, loud, "-where are you?"

"On a job," you sighed out, words a little breathless and slurred, "-'Supposed to be an office building, but it wasn't. Security, so many security- Think the CEO was bigger than fucking officework-"

"Darling," he spoke softer, but still loud, direct, "-focus on my voice, yeah?"

"Okay," you hummed, more focused -you wanted to do whatever he wanted, "-I will."

"Now," he spoke, gently, and you heard a car door shut -absentmindedly, "-where are you? Can you remember?"

"On the docks," you answered, slow -trying to process the words you were saying, "-tall, so many windows... Company, it's a... glass company, I think. J-Johnson something."

Tangerine hummed low and warm, you recognized the tone -somehow you knew it, "Okay, okay, love. Good- Good job."

"Third floor," you echoed out, "-There's two more, people still in them, I didn't get far enough."

"Can you hear 'em, love?"

"Sometimes," you let out a long breath, "-I'm staying quiet, they'll kill me, Tan-"

"Relax, darling," his voice crept up to your ear, "-breathe, keep focused, yeah? Keep talkin' to me."

'Lemon, fuckin' drive faster, will you?'

"I'm in a...a janitors closet, it's dark in here, I-I can't see. Think I'm bleeding," you mumbled out -a little slurred, you weren't sure he could hear you.

"Fuck..." he sighed, swallowing something in his throat -you could tell you weren't supposed to hear it, "-Where are you hurt, love? They cut you, shoot you, what?"

"Broken ribs," your breath stuttered out -it stung, "-shot me in the shoulder and the leg, I can't fucking move."

"Right, yeah," he exhaled and you thought for a second it was shaky -something sour in his tone, "-You got any pressure on it? Can you?"

"'Can't move, Tan."

"Try for me, love," his voice shook a little, you couldn't think about it, "-Try the... Try the leg."

You did, moving the arm where your shoulder bled -it ached so heavily your head started to pound, but you pushed through. Pressing your palm hard against the skin, you hissed into the phone -eyes bleary, you think you might've been crying.

"I'm sorry, love," he whispered, his voice rough, "-'So sorry, love. I know it hurts like hell, I know."

Your breath shook out through your throat, tone lighter, "'Been shot before?"

"Fuckin' yesterday," he huffed out, all angry and Tangerine, "-some bloody prick grazed my side."

You laughed, and it hurt a little, but you didn't care -not then, "'Always so angry."

"Not at you," he corrected, hardly letting your words slip out, "-Never at you, love."

The hum of the engine stopped, and you heard a distant voice -Lemon, you recognized. It was a sort of murmur to you, you couldn't hear the words. You weren't sure you wanted to.

"Mouse?" He spoke out, slow words but urgent, "-You said the third floor, right? Janitors closet?"

"'s where I'm hiding," you clarified.

"Yeah, right-" you heard the patter of his footsteps, slaps across the sidewalk -some crinkling of fabric, "-I'm on my way, okay? Goin' as fast as I fuckin' can-"

"Be careful," it slipped out of your lips, low and slurred, but you know he heard it.

A sharp inhale of his breath told you so, wordless on the other side of the line -you could only hear the slap of his footsteps, so fast.

"You..." he started, something shaking in his voice, "-You stay alive, yeah? Keep breathin'-"

"Tan-"

"No," he echoed, direct and strict, "-no, you can't die. Not now, okay? You stay fuckin' alive."

"Tan-"

He continued, not slowing down -words frantic, "'Ave so much to say, love, so much. You gotta stay alive to hear it."

"Okay," you breathed out, fighting back the slip shut of your eyes -they burned and you were so tired but you couldn't leave him, not when he was so close, "-I'll stay alive. Promise."

"Promise," he echoed like it helped him understand it -believe it.

Before you knew it, your phone went silent -echoing out into the air. You squinted at it, taking a deep breath -feeling it rack through your body. Dead. Your phone was dead.

God, you'd never hated yourself more. It was so easy to breathe when he was there on the phone, so easy to remember why you were fighting and what you were fighting for.

The silence was overwhelming, a low whimper pursing through your lips -you couldn't see anything but you could feel the blood, sticky on your hand. Something in your stomach twisted, tongue heavy in your mouth; what if you died before he got here?

You can't imagine-

"Lemon," a voice echoed outside the door, "-you deal with the upstairs, keep your eye on it. I'll check every fuckin' room on this floor-"

"Tan," Lemon spoke quieter, a crinkle of fabric, "-they'll be alright. We're 'ere, remember?"

"Right, yeah," Tangerine let out a shaking breath, "-I just..."

"I know," Lemon interrupted, voice stronger, "-I think they know too. 'Just go and fuckin' find 'em, yeah?"

"Don't even have to ask-"

And then, the footsteps grew louder. You knew the closet was close to the stairs, he'd be here soon -god, he'd be here soon. You let out a deep breath, shaking against your chest -a sob racking through your lips, it wasn't loud, not really, but it was noise.

The footsteps stopped in place, and you could hear the harbored breathing for a moment, before it echoed out into the hallway -shaky and full of hope, concern, so much, "Mouse? Mouse? Can you hear me?"

Your breath stuttered in your chest, and the sting of your lungs overwhelmed you for a moment. You breathed out, slow and trying to numb your pain, and talk. But it hurt-

"I-In here-" you breathed out and it was shaking and it was quiet, but without a doubt, the footsteps quickened, so fast you could almost not even hear it.

The door, close to you, sneaked open -light pouring out into the room, it blinded you for a moment. All you could see was the shadow of a figure, you knew it though, knew the shadow. You smelt his cologne, and you had missed it-

Without a single breath shattering out of your lungs, he was standing for a moment frozen -door lazily opened and hallway out of the corner of your eye's view.

Tangerine slunk to your side, eyes dashing across your body, the stains, the blood-

He swallowed, dryly -concerned; you could see the emotions pass through his face. Something in you wants to calm him, tell him you're okay. But you didn't actually know that.

His hair was out of place, curly and ungelled, but still wearing a suit -the blue one that matched his eyes. You like that one, you mindlessly thought.

And without a word, he began to move -shrugging off his jacket. You merely watched on, as he tugged at his sleeves -unbuttoning the cuff (it was all a little familiar actually for very different circumstances), and without hesitation, ripping the fabric off his arm.

The noise echoed through the hallway, startling you slightly. Tangerine flinched a little, frowning, before going back to the fabric.

Hands tenderly gathered at your leg, he gently replaced your hand and wordlessly tied the fabric around your calf. He paused, looking at you, voice soft and gentle.

"This is gonna hurt, love. I'm sorry in advance."

And it did. Who knew?

Your head was bleary, eyes a little hazy and teary from the pain -breaths hollowed out of your chest.

"'Should be the worst of it, love," he hummed out, before sliding a hand behind your back -carefully pulling you up, "-lean on me, okay? I 'ave to get to your shoulder."

You nodded, slowly pressing your head forward into his right shoulder -his cologne filtering through your nose, and the warmth of his body fluttering over your skin. It was comforting, so much that your eyes almost closed on instinct; heartbeat in your ears, the sensation grounded you -brought you back in your body.

Tangerine was moving, looping the fabric under your arm -carefully keeping your arm steady and in place. Fingertips gentle like he was holding the world in his hands -careful and considerate.

"Stay awake, love," he spoke, his voice rumbling into your ear, "-I know you're tired, but I need ya to keep your eyes open for me."

They fluttered open at his request, forehead pressed into his shirt -you could see the thin lines in his vest, tracing the crinkle over his shoulder. You focused on the feeling, the fabric tight around your skin, and the buzz of his skin against yours.

You'd been closer really, but this was a new kind of intimacy -something that made you pleased somewhere deep in your chest. You had always wanted this you realized, this closeness with Tangerine.

How did you not notice?

Even when he stopped, hands still, you stayed there a moment like you'd never get it back.

And maybe you wouldn't. Maybe this changed everything and Tangerine would run for the hills-

Without a word, he laid you back down -gently placing your head on the ground with an attentive hand, a bit like you were breakable. Fragile. You supposed right now you were.

His eyebrows furrowed as he leaned over you, eyes hitching on the makeshift bandages, "We 'ave to get you to the hospital, shirt can only do so much, love."

You thought of the pain in your leg, the pulse of your heartbeat when you walk, but even still, you tried to push up -get on your feet. You promised you'd stay alive.

Tangerine immediately put his hands on your shoulders, keeping you in place, "What are you doing?"

"Trying to get up," you answered, simply.

"Right, no, not happenin'," he let out a laugh in disbelief, "-you are not fuckin' walkin'.

Without another word, he stood -turning around and looking down the hall, assumedly for Lemon. When his eyes caught you could tell, something straightening in his posture with one succinct nod.

They always had their language, it was so interesting to watch sometimes. Lemon would raise an eyebrow, Tangerine would squint his eyes and they'd both not move for 20 seconds like they were communicating through looks.

Before you could think about it too hard, he spun back to you -sinking to his knees. Mumbling, "Think you're fuckin' walkin', ridiculous." No hesitation, he slipped his arms under your back and knees -careful of your calf, and stood.

In another world, you'd probably be shocked at his physical strength but lucky for you, you already knew a lot about that.

Not now, your mind hissed.

Tangerine's steps were quick but careful to not jostle you at all. At some point, you heard Lemon -frantic and loud but you couldn't make out what he said. That was your first sign. The world after that began to spin, the stairwell becoming dizzying -your eyes just wanted to shut. You were so tired.

You heard Tangerine then, you knew he was speaking to you but you couldn't make out what he was saying. You tried so hard to listen-

Then, it all went black.

The first thing was the smell of sterilization hitting your nose, it made you scrunch it up on instinct and then you heard some ruffling.

"Mx. Williams?"

You did not know who Mx. Williams was, but you still squinted open your eyes -the bright lights making your head spin for a moment. You settled across the room, nothing special, just a typical hospital bed -stiff bed, thin covers, and all.

It was a woman speaking, you realized, in scrubs with a warm smile on her face. Ah, you thought, an alias.

"Hi," she spoke softly, carefully, with a smile, "-you're in a hospital, you're safe. Do you remember anything?"

"No," you answered, unsure of the story concocted to get you here.

"You were involved in a robbery," she began, slow to introduce it, "-you had a few injuries from it but you're all fixed up now, okay?"

It was surprisingly calming, "Okay."

"Your husband," she motioned to your right side, "-brought you in."

Your eyes darted to your side -because husband?!, but they just settled on Tangerine -laid back in a chair, arms crossed and chair pulled as close to your side as he could.

Something in you softened, and you smiled.

His clothes were still ripped and stained, but it was dry now. You briefly wondered how long you'd been there, how long he'd been waiting.

"Been a rough couple of days," the nurse hummed, "-he hasn't left since you got here."

You hummed, reaching out and brushing your skin against his hand -just to feel him, know he's real. It didn't wake him up, but you weren't sure you wanted him to just yet. You wanted to enjoy this before everything went... however, it went.

"You've got a good one," the nurse hummed, scribbling on a chart -eyes lounging over the machines.

You smiled a little brighter, imagining it for a second, where he was yours, "I know."

"Alright," she spoke, pushing the clipboard back into her chest, "-your doctor will be here soon."

You nodded, eyes languidly tracing over Tangerine -his head was leaned forward now, curls hanging over. Something in you wanted to brush through them, and you would have honestly, but you couldn't really reach.

You pursed your lips, throat dry, when you spotted water on the little table by your bedside and a thing of jello maybe, probably in preparation for when you got up. Pulling it toward you, maybe a little too fast, because the plastic spoon clattered to the floor; you flinched.

"Shit," you mumbled.

It definitely wasn't loud enough to wake him, but he must've been sleeping very lightly. Sudden and brash, ready to fight something -protective, he didn't even notice you.

"Woah, hey-" you laughed a bit in disbelief, and sipping from the bottle, "-calm down, cowboy."

His eyes immediately flicked to you, blue and darting all over your face like he was taking you in. Wordlessly, he stood there frozen -almost in disbelief.

You paused, looking over him -softer, "You okay, Tan?"

"Am I fuckin... Am I okay?" He echoed out, "-Really?"

"Well, yeah," you responded, slow, "-you seem... riled up."

"Love," he spoke, softer but still so direct, breathless, "-you're in a fuckin' hospital bed. You almost died-"

"Seriously, Tan," you interrupted, you hadn't seen this side of him before, "-are you alright?"

He stood completely still, eyes flicking to yours -hair sticking up in a mess, shirt still ripped. He looked a little deranged, not the worse you'd ever seen, but... there was something in his eyes -a gleam.

You couldn't tell what it was.

"No," he finally answered.

"Are you-" you started, now suddenly darting over the blood (was some of it his?) "-Are you hurt? Did you get checked by-"

"Love," he sighed out, hands raking through his hair, "-you almost died. Do you not hear that? Fuckin' dead, gone-"

"Tan-"

"No, no, no-" he shook his hand, exasperated, in disbelief, "-if I hadn't called, you would be fuckin' dead, Mouse."

"Tangerine."

"What the hell were you bloody doin' there?" He finished succinctly, eyebrows gathered -frustrated.

"A job," you spoke, tone questioning, "-What the hell is your problem?"

"You shouldn’t have fuckin' been there," he nearly growled out, "-that's my problem."

"My intel was wrong," you exhaled, stiff -if he was angry, you would be too, "-I couldn't have known. You think I wanted to solo a whole building of security?"

You trailed off, settling back into the bed -your head was starting to hurt; this was not what you had wanted. Far fucking from it.

He sighed, a big long sigh, briefly pressing his fingers on his temples, "Look, Mouse-"

You didn't look at him, eyes trained on your hands, and the blanket spanned across your lap. You wouldn't give him the dignity of looking at him, not when he was just being a dick.

"I'm not mad at you," his voice was lower now, "-just whoever sent you on that fuckin' suicide mission."

"'Could've fooled me," you scoffed, twisting your arms into a crossed position.

Tangerine sighed again, roaming closer to your bedside and falling to his knees to meet your face better, "Mouse, love, look at me."

You kept your eyes on your hands.

"Mouse, please."

You pursed your lips, he hardly pulled out the please -this was bigger than what you thought it was. Your eyes landed succinctly on his, blue -so blue- already looking at you with something of remorse. Huh.

"I'm sorry," he started, slow with one hand reached up to run through his hair again, "-I know I'm being a fuckin' dick."

"Good guess," you hummed.

"Right, yeah," he shook his head, lips curling up at the corners, "-Look, I... Fuck, I..."

"Tangerine," you put a hand on his shoulder, he was close enough now, "-seriously, what is wrong? I've never seen you like this."

He swallowed, dryly, and you almost offered him your water -he'd been doing that a lot lately.

"You almost died," he repeated.

"Tan, we're not talking about me," you responded, "-I think we both know what happened-"

"Love," he interrupted, repeating again, "-you almost died."

You raised a brow, questioning -confused really, "What does that have to do with-"

"I wouldn't have known," he breathed out, shaky and tone the same, "-you were going to fuckin' die and I wouldn't have known, ya know 'at?"

This was new to you, Tangerine looked shaken, scared. When had he ever been so broken open in front of you, so... so desperate? It was like he cracked open his ribs and you were staring at his heart.

"Tan, I didn't mean to-"

"I would've fuckin'-" he laughed a little, and it was wet -there were tears in the corners of his eyes, "-I'd 'ave heard it through the fuckin' grapevine."

"Tan," you were too soft to stop him.

"Do you know why 'at's fucked up? Truly, do you?"

"Because we're... friends?" You asked, with a lilt -you weren't sure, and even though you felt something you couldn't push that on him. No matter how bad it hurt.

"Fuckin' friends," he laughed, looking up at the ceiling -his eyes were definitely teary, you realized.

"Why are you-"

"Darling, tell me this," he spoke, looking at you now -blue eyes intense on yours, "-do you think I would've grieved you as a fuckin' booty call or a... a friend?"

"I don't..." you spoke, "-I don't know, Tan."

"No, truly, love," he echoed, voice quiet and barely there, "-do you think I would 'ave?"

You fell silent, eyes sliding over his face -the storm of his eyes. It wasn't like a thunderstorm, not angry, just a rain -a dark, heavy rain. You wanted them to be light again, sunny.

You pursed your lips, flicking over his face -there was something different there, something smoothed across his features that you had never seen before. It was something.

"No," you answered finally.

"And you ask me, you ask me-" he started, tears built up now -he blinked them away, "-if I'm okay?"

You didn't say a word.

"You almost-" Tangerine continued, voice breaking as he tilted his head down and took a deep breath.

"Tan," you spoke, softly -something burning in the backs of your own eyes.

"You almost died in my fuckin' arms, Mouse."

"But I didn't," you echoed, "-I didn't. I'm alive, you saved me-"

And then in the tiniest voice you'd heard from him, he looked at you, teary-eyed and exhausted, "Why didn't you call me?"

"Tangerine, I-" you started, "-I didn't know if it... if you-"

"I would've picked up," he spoke, firm and decisive, something biting in his tone, "-If you were halfway across the fuckin' world, I would've found a fuckin' way."

"That's not-" you started, before sighing, "-I didn't know if it mattered to you."

"Mattered to me?" His voice echoed in disbelief, "-If you... You didn't know if your death would've mattered to me?"

"No," you answered, "-I really didn't. I thought... Well, I thought both of you would be fine-"

"Fuckin' fine?" He spilled out, "-You think I would've been fine?"

"I didn't know," you reasoned, "-it wasn't... none of it was... We never talked about it."

"God, I'm the fuckin' stupidest person on this goddamn planet," he breathed out -a mutter, but you still caught it. He was really close to you in this position, you could hear the inhale of his breaths.

"Darling," he spoke, something pent up in his eyes -ready to spill, "-I can hardly function without you. And you think- You really fuckin' think that I wouldn't have cared if you died?"

"I didn't know," you explained, "-I didn't know anything, Tan. We never- We never talked about this, it was simple, easy."

"Well, it's about to get really fuckin' complicated, isn't it?"

"What are you-" you started -confused.

"Consider this me talkin' about it, yeah?" He spoke, looking straight at you -not waiting for an answer, "-The idea of you dying makes me fuckin' sick. 'Makes my whole body feel like my heart fell out of my fuckin' chest, and left a cold, empty shell of a man. Yeah? If you died, I think I wouldn't be able to breathe anymore-"

"Tangerine-" you swallowed back tears.

He continued, "And frankly, the idea of it happenin' has kept me up at night. The idea of it happenin' and me not knowin', not even bein' there- I can't even begin to fuckin' fathom."

"Tangerine-"

"I can't be here without you," he finished, softer and quieter, "-I can hardly fuckin' leave you without it feelin' like I've left a fuckin' limb. A piece of me."

You couldn't speak, tears bubbling up your throat. He stared at you, and all you could do was stare back -eyes unwavering; you wondered distantly where his head was at.

"So, yeah," he cleared his throat -righting himself, "-I would care if you died. 'Would care a fuckin' lot."

"I didn't..." you began, tears burning your eyes -something heavy in your chest, "-I didn't know that."

"Yeah, I know," he replied, a little bluntly, "-you ever see me as fuckin' feelings guy? No, but even still I should've told you a long fuckin' time ago because this-"

His hand motioned to you in the bed.

"This was a fuckin'... worst-case scenario for me."

"I'm sorry," you whispered -you couldn't imagine the pain, if he... if he meant all that.

"You're sorry?" His eyes were attentive on you again, big blue and concerned, guilty, "-no, love, there's nothin' to be sorry for. I... I should've said somethin', I doubt you would've ever been in this state if I had."

"I'd-" you echoed out, "-I'd still have the same job, Tan."

"I would've gone with you," he spoke, "-or been closer... I-I would've fuckin' driven the getaway car if you'd let me."

You paused, eyes flickering over his face -that unnamed thing, you knew it now. It seemed so obvious. Every word he said bounced off your head as it echoed in your mind; he'd said so much, you could read in-between the lines for the rest of it.

"Tangerine?" You hummed.

"Yeah?" His voice was gruff, spent.

"I love you too."

He grinned then, all crow's feet and upturned lips -you'd never seen something so bright. Not from him. Maybe it wouldn't be the last one.

"Thank fuckin' god," he groaned out, "-I really don't know what I was goin' to do if you didn't."

You laughed, a little shy -this was all so new, "Well, good thing you don't have to, yeah?"

"Yeah," he finished, still smiling -his hand came to hold yours for a moment, careful even though you weren't hurt there.

Tangerine seemed thoughtful for a moment, before raising your hand to his lips, "I'm really fuckin' glad you're alright, love."

"Yeah, me too."

He opened his mouth to say something else, but the door swinging open cut it short.

"You lot done yet?" Lemon asked, head sticking in the door, "-I've been waitin' out here like 20 minutes. The nurses are startin' to look at me weird-"

Tangerine sighed from beside you, as you spoke, "Come on in, Lemon. Lovely to see you by the way."

He stepped fully in then, your eyes catching on the takeout boxes in the bags he held, "So polite, unsure why you ever liked him."

"Right," Tangerine rolled his eyes, "-Do we 'ave to start this now?"

"You see?" Lemon raised a hand, "-This is how he treats me, yeah? I bring 'im food and I'm fuckin' shot do-"

"Is there something for me?" You questioned, you had honestly never been so hungry in your life -probably your body healing and whatnot.

"'Is there something for you?' Of course, Mouse, I'm very thoughtful like 'at," Lemon smiled, "-unlike this bloke, yeah?"

"Lemon," Tangerine hissed.

"Told ya," he responded, taking a seat in one of the extra chairs on the other side of you.

"I'll fuckin' bite your head off, you know 'at? Rip you limb from limb-"

"Boys, seriously," you groaned, "-can you agree on anything?"

"You need a new handler," Lemon spoke -already eating his meal, to which Tangerine reluctantly nodded.

"Well-"

"And you're with us now," Tangerine offered up, "-anywhere you go, we go."

Lemon nodded, pointing to his brother like in solidarity, "Agreed."

"Guys, really? That's what you-"

"You know how pouty he's gonna be if you aren't?" Lemon retorted, handing Tangerine both his and your boxes -movement fluid right over you.

"I don't fuckin' pout," he murmured, opening the box and setting it on your table -before settling into his chair with his own.

"No, don't even start that shit," Lemon replied, "-you haven't said a full word to me in the last two weeks!"

"That wasn't pouting-"

"What would you call it then, sulking?"

"I'll kill you, Lemon, don't fuckin' start it-"

"Enough you two," you yelled out, not loud enough to attract any unwanted attention, but enough to shut them both up.

You sighed out a big long breath and righted yourself -grabbing a forkful on the food.

"Now," you hummed, grinning at the two of them, "-where are we off to next?"

They raised an eyebrow.

"If I'm staying with you," you repeated, "-where are we going next?"

Tangerine furrowed his brow like it was common sense, "Nowhere, love, you're healing."

"Tan-"

"Seconded," Lemon raised his hand, "-he's already got a place and everythin' might as well give it to 'im."

"When did you-"

"Not important," Tangerine clarified, before turning to his brother, "-See, how hard was that? To fuckin' support me?"

"You're one to talk, mate."

You were really gonna have to get used to this.

Then Tangerine, almost instinctively, scooted his chair forward -placing his box next to yours on the table and with the confidence of a million men, intertwined your hands.

It couldn't have been comfortable, both with the hospital bed barriers and eating with one hand, but he treated it like it was nothing at all. Like he'd do it 100 times over for you.

Okay, you thought to yourself, you could definitely get used to this.

#temporary fix #tangerine bullet train #tangerine x reader #bullet train #tangerine x y/n #tangerine x you #tangerine #tan's things

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radioisntdead · 7 months ago

Text

Maybe one day I could learn to love you..

Alastor x reader, Human au!

Summary:

Alastor and reader are put in an arranged marriage and, one of them falls and the other doesn't know where he stands.

Warnings!

Murder, death, inaccurate portrayal of the 1920's??, OOC, this was edited but there are probably misspellings around, not beta read [How do I acquire a beta reader??] Me projecting my Aroace vibes onto the reader and Alastor, reader is implied to be afab (is that the right term?) because 1920's but GN, also reader is put in a wedding dress.

Song

You and Alastor didn't know each other super well, you knew each other well enough to be friends but not super close, the only way the two of you even met was because his mother was a close friend of yours,

The two of you were "getting up there in age." and "should marry soon."

Frankly neither of you wanted to get married but you couldn't exactly express that to your folks, and Alastor couldn't bare to see his mother sad that she wouldn't be able to see her only child start a family.

There was only so many times you could use the "haven't met the right person'' excuse before they decided to set you and Alastor up.

You and Alastor sat at a café to see how things play out and long story short agreed that it would be beneficial for the two of you to wed, a marriage of convenience.

His mother would be satisfied in thinking her son wouldn't be alone when she was gone, and your parents wouldn't nag at you, saying you'd become a spinster.

You sat in a dressing room, in a beautiful white dress, your mother was right outside along with a few family members, you could barely make out their voices saying how excited they were.

You looked into the mirror, your makeup was beautifully done, hair done up like a princess's

Anxiety filled you, you wondered if you would feel like this if you were marrying someone you had romantic feelings for?

You shook your head and took a deep breath, standing up you opened the door, being greeted by smiling faces.

Can we become we,

You walked down the aisle, a painted smile plastered on your face.

No longer known as just you and me

Alastor continually smiled, not breaking it as the two of you exchanged vows.

he gently took your hand and slid the ring onto your finger, taking a moment to lift your hand and kiss it,

You could hear a few folks in attendance cooing at the action, you could already hear the on-coming whispers of how 'in love' the two of you seemed.

Two separate lives now in unity

"You may now kiss the bride."

It was quick, a small peck before turning around to face your loved ones and others that were invited.

Stuck here together but

Unease filled you as the reception came to an end, after the concerning amount of dancing and drinking, it was time for them to bid the two of you farewell for your honeymoon, you hugged your parents goodbye, he did the same with his mother and the two of you stepped into the car and there you went.

Will this always be just an arrangement

You were uneasy as you got ready for bed, silently praying that you wouldn't have to do anything, but preparing yourself for the possibly that you would just have to grin and bare it, lay back and disassociate.

Thankfully nothing happened, Alastor bid you a goodnight and promptly passed out.

And neither of you brought it up, consummating your marriage was never a topic between you, and for that the two of you were secretly relieved.

You were glad you married Alastor out of all people. [Said no one ever]

Can we become more

As time went on you and Alastor became closer, and feelings began to consume you, sneaking in slowly, it started with you noting how Alastor preferred more bitter or savory foods as opposed to sweets, or how he preferred black coffee to tea.

It was the 1920's, you didn't have a term for what you were back then, and so you thought you were just not meant to be in love, that maybe something was wrong with you? Why weren't you wired like your peers were? You thought that maybe you were too young for feelings like that but you realized that wasn't the case as you grew

You remember talking with your friends, and while they were more prone to crushes or saying what they would do to someone based off their appearance, you always felt a little odd, you were reassured by them saying maybe you just had higher standards, or just hadn't met the right person yet,

But that didn't really explain the fact that you didn't look at a person and think that you wanted to bed them

Than half of a union we’re chosen for?

Alastor had a similar experience, although he had been different in other ways, after all he did killed people so that probably had an effect on it (it probably did but not in this case)

His dear mama just told him he hadn't met the right person yet, and he didn't have a reason not to believe his mother.

On his side he was going to avoid it as long as he could, and he did until he was matched up with you, and wedded.

It not only gave him a cover, you were a perfect alibi, it gave his mama peace of mind.

You were a good companion as well, you weren't overly touchy, you were smart and had your wits about, you could keep up with him,

You became a good friend who he just so happened to wed.

Where I am your best half

The romantic feelings you felt you clung onto desperately, afraid that if you let them go you'd never be able to feel them again, after all where would you find someone like Alastor? [In a Prison probably]

Not to mention the two of you were already married so that was already a done deal, this is the best situation to be in, right? Falling in love with a person you were already married to?

And I am yours

Your affections became more obvious by the day, lingering touches, acts of service becoming more frequent, spending more time together.

For Alastor it was becoming harder to hide the Blood stains that would get on his shirts from you.

Stuck here forever and hopefully not ending in estrangement

Alastor's mother absolutely adored you, you were a decent person, loving and caring to her son, not to mention you were such a sweetheart to her, helping her in the kitchen, helping her move around as it got harder to do in her old age.

It’s the step of faith, We have to take sometimes

His Ma sat him down one day while you were out running errands, telling him to cherish you more,

Not wanting to disappoint his ma, he slowly but surely began to return your affections a bit more, not by much but a little bit more.

If I’m, with you, I can take it

The two of you would go dancing at the speakeasy Mimzy worked at, cook together, he'd murder people behind your back, the two of you would spend time together doing projects like puzzles.

But if we are one, What happens to you and I

Alastor's mother started getting sick.

It started with a cough, which she dismissed to you and Alastor as just a cold, that didn't stop the two of you from making her meals and making her rest but it got worse, the cough turned into hacking late at night and struggling to breathe.

If I’m, with you, I will make it

The doctors couldn't do much, only suggesting medicines that would give her relief.

Will this always be just an arrangement? We’ll find out in time if we don’t break it

You were there with her, at one side while Alastor was at her other, Alastor held her hand as she breathed her last breath.

Can mine become yours, combining our dreams

Alastor was a complete and utter mess, after all that was his mother, the person closest to him besides you, gone.

He would never see her again, he would move to call her and tell her good news,

She wasn't there,

He went to call her at noon like he did every day?

She wasn't there, he had to train himself to not automatically go to the phone, if he found himself dialing her telephone he'd hear the phone operator ask who he's trying to call, and he'd have a moment to remember that the person he was trying to call was no longer with them.

Without keeping score

You were a shoulder to cry on, helping him keep sane, the two of you grieved for his mother together, you helped plan a great funeral, sparing no expense she was practically a second mother to you after all.

Always together, but never bored, No choice in the matter but

The world didn't end when his mother died, he was lucky enough to get a few weeks off but Radio waits for no one, and he was needed back.

This will never work without each other

He went to work, you'd listen in on the radio while doing whatever you did, working, vibing, I don't know what you did for a living.

Can we become we, start a new line on this family tree

Things healed, they would never be the same, obviously you can't bring back the dead, but things were okay, the two of you had each other especially after the stock market crash and everything that followed,

Two hearts connected by one beat

You had a special place in Alastor's twisted murdery heart, it was likely that Alastor wouldn't return your affections, but that was alright, you were content staying near him.

Your hand in mine and

The two of you were dancing, he held your hand as he twirled you around, looking into his eyes with your own lovesick ones you smiled

"I could never choose to love another"

It slipped out, it took the two of you a moment to process it, Alastor let out a sigh, a twinge of guilt? Or something else flashed in his eyes

"Maybe one day I can learn to love you, too."

One day would never come through, for your life was cut short before Alastor's, a bad flu had taken you out, folks often forget how deadly the flu can be.

Alastor was by your side as you breathed your last.

The world didn't stop spinning because you died, but he didn't handle it well, first his Ma and now you, two of the most important people in his life gone just like that, both taken out by some type of sickness, was this punishment for murdering people? The two innocent people he cherished perishing?

Alastor would more then likely never see you or his mother again because when he fell below you were safe and sound above.

While Alastor was clawing for power below you were living your best afterlife above, doing whatever hobbies your heart desired, moving forward with new friends, family that included Alastor's mother, and maybe a paramour? Or maybe not, you were okay with or without one.

Unfortunately for Alastor you were embedded in his memory, every once in awhile you would pop in late at night when he was trying to sleep or do something productive, plaguing his mind with what ifs.

On the other side you were blessed with ignorance, after all he couldn't haunt your memories, he couldn't pop into your mind with what ifs, and you couldn't miss Alastor if you didn't remember him.

Good evening folks! I need to quit killing the reader off, sorry this was delayed!

I was going to go a completely different direction with this but that would've had a happy ending

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #alastor x reader #alastor x you #hazbin alastor x reader

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court-jester-stuff · 2 months ago

Text

Confessions, murder and lies

Charlie Walker x reader

tags/warning: fem!reader, blood, injury, murder, smut, fingering,

p in v, incorrect hospital stuff, , no beta we die like Robbie, let me know if I missed any

word count: 2.9k

notes: English is not my first language, inspired by "Softer Than Shadow" by 'slxsherr'

You used to not be sure what to make of Charlie Walker. In the past year that has changed. He’s dorky and funny and when you think about it he’s definitely cute. When you think about it you absolutely have a crush on him.

Only problem, he’s had a four year standing crush on your best friend Kirby. Who has been teasing you to death for having a crush on the boy ever since you confessed the crush to her during a drunken game of truth or truth.

Sitting on Kirby’s couch during the after-party of the annual stab-a-thon is absolute hell with the combination of Robbie stressed out of his mind, Kirby filling in Jill on what happened and Charlie walking around in the closest proximity since the school project that set off this ridiculous crush you have on him, all that along with the looming serial killer that’s been plaguing the town and has stabbed Gale no less than an hour ago.

Yeah, safe to say this evening has not been going the way you’ve wanted it to. To be fair the only reason you were even at the stab-a-thon was because Kirby convinced you. Something about having to live for Olivia and making Charlie happy.

As if he cared if you showed up. He only wants Kirby. You thought.

By the time you tuned back into the conversation Robbie had started drinking his way through Kirby’s dad’s liquor, Charlie had put on stab seven and had sat down next to you.

He sat down next to you… to flirt with Kirby who was flirting back?

You didn’t know at this point.

Not wanting to watch that going down you got up of the couch.

“Where are you going?” Kirby asked.

“To make sure that Robbie doesn’t do anything too stupid.” You said. “Maybe laugh at him being a stupid drunk a little. You have no proof!” You teased.

Kirby laughed and Charlie had turned to look at you.

You made eye contact with him gave him a tight smile.

“I’ll make sure your best friend doesn’t kill himself.” You told him before promptly walking out before he could say anything else.

Watching Robbie wasn’t boring, actually it was quite entertaining. Him having his live-stream on backwards, walking straight into a hanging plant, which you were pretty sure you had gifted Kirby, it was all pretty funny.

Up until you saw Ghostface standing in the doorway.

“Robbie, look out!” You yelled out, but it was too late. You watched in horror as Robbie fell to his knees and when you looked up and saw Ghostface looking, what you assumed was right at you, you bolted. Running around the side of the house you could hear him running after you.

He grabbed around your side and pulled you backwards into him. With the quickest thinking you could manage you pushed yourself backwards as hard as you could knocking you both to the ground.

He however did not let go. You twisted around and stopped the knife in his other hand right as it was coming for you. You tried as hard as you could to force his hand away from you up until he took his other arm from around you and started pushing with both hands.

With all the survival instinct you had in you you managed to force his arms away and get it to start running away, only for him to grab your leg and drive his knife through your calf.

Kicking him in the face you managed to get loose and back into the house where Sidney and Kirby were.

“Oh my god! Your leg!” Kirby exclaimed.

“Turns out I do have that unfiltered rage and survival instinct inside me.” You tried to joke. Cringing when you sat your leg down.

“Behind you!” Sidney yelled and before you could even look Kirby had grabbed your arm and started dragging you through her house to a room that has a lock.

When you were both inside and the door locked you each took a moment to catch your breath.

“Robbie’s dead.” Is what you managed to get out in between gasps. “He was running around outback and when we wanted to go back inside there he was. Fucker chased me all the way around the house.”

“Fucking hell.” She said before guiding you towards a wall that you easily slid down.

And then it was quiet for a bit, both processing what had just happened.

“I’m sorry about earlier.” She said. “I hadn’t meant to flirt with Charlie like that. It’s just so easy to tease him. Maybe you’ve rubbed of on me.” She added with a shrug after seeing your confused glance.

“It’s alright, I get it. I mean, he is cute.” You said with a knowing smirk. “I hope everyone is alright. I mean who knows who else has fallen victim.”

“Oh my god Sidney.” Kirby looked at you with wide eyes before walking towards the locked door.

“Uuh Kirby, I’m sure she’s fine. Or at the very least I want you to be fine. Which means staying in the room with the locked door.” You emphasised knowing what she was about to do.

“I can’t leave her out there, and… and Jill’s out there too.” She looked at you with exasperations.

“Fine, but first we try to reach 911 or anyone who can call for help.” You said.

“Deal.”

by the time Kirby got back with Sidney you must have tried calling 911 at least twenty times.

Sidney looked around the room before her eyes landed on you, still sitting on the floor.

“How’s your leg?” she asked while eyeing it worryingly.

“Hurts like a bitch. I’ve wrapped it with a piece of my shirt so at the very least the bleeding is somewhat contained.”

You wanted to say more but before you could Charlie appeared outside the glass door, smearing blood all over it. Begging to be let in.

All three of you looked in horror and shock not knowing what to do.

“If you aren’t sure if you can trust him, don’t let him in.” Is what Sidney said and so Kirby didn’t open the door.

Which we all quickly regretted when Ghostface appeared behind him. Slamming his head into the glass and the dragging him into a chair to tie him up into. That’s when Kirby’s phone started ringing.

It was Ghostface. Asking his sick questions in exchange for Charlies life.

Sidney tells the two of you that she’s going to go get Jill and leaves.

Kirby starts answering questions and when she gets one wrong she goes quiet for a moment before looking at you and saying he wants you to answer the next one and if you get it right Charlie lives.

You get up off the ground and limp over to her, taking the phone.

“Well, dear little Iris. Given that you’re the one with the crush how about you decide whether he lives or dies. What are the names of the two boys that help Sam save his bother from the lost boys?”

You’ve watched this movie countless times, several times with Olivia, Jill and Kirby and another several times alone so the answer comes easy to you even during a time like this.

“Edgar and Alan Frog. Their names are Edgar and Alan Frog.”

The line goes dead and you both rush to get to Charlie.

You staying slightly behind due to your leg.

Through Kirby’s apologies you manage to get Charlie inside and the door locked ones again.

Kirby looks embarrassed before she says she’s going to find Sidney and Jill. Before you can stop her she has already left the room.

Limping over to the now closed door you lock it.

You slide down onto the ground beside the door and opposite of where Charlie has sat down.

You both sit like that for a while in silence before you break it.

“I’m sorry we didn’t let you in. I am truly so sorry.” Looking down at your feet you don’t see Charlies smile before he answers.

“It’s alright, I probably would have done the same if I was you two.” He takes a deep breath before adding. “Plus it was mostly Kirby and Sidney. I mean, you can barely stand.”

You scoff at that.

“Yeah that’s true.” There is a beat of silence before you once again break it.

“Listen, Charlie. I know that we aren’t exactly close so this might come out of no where to you but with a high chance of one if not both of us dying tonight I feel the need to tell you this.” There’s a pregnant pause before you continue. “I’ve had a crush on you for the past year now and I know that this is shit timing and honestly if it wasn’t for this psychopath trying to kill us I probably wouldn’t have said anything at all but you deserve to know.

I’m not expecting you to suddenly get over your crush on Kirby and walk off into the sunset with me but you should know. Just so that it’s out there. Sorry for springing this on you but yeah… I wanted you to know.”

And then it’s quiet again. For quite a while but you don’t regret saying anything. That is until Charlie gets up from the floor and moves over to sit next to you.

“I kinda like you too.” He says.

“It’s alright Charlie you don’t have to do this. I get it, you like Kirby and I know I’m not competing with her.”

He raises his hand slightly and hesitates before placing it on top of yours.

“I do, really. I won’t lie and say that I’ve had a crush on Kirby for years but this year that sorta shifted. I started thinking about you and that scared me so I kept up the whole ‘I’m in love with Kirby’ act. I never thought you’d also like me.”

You raised your head to look at him and found him already looking at you. He put your hair behind your ear and smiled. You smiled back.

“I’m not all that convinced yet but I’ll take your word for it.” Your eyes shifted from his to his lips and you hoped he didn’t notice. He did. His eyes also darted between your lips and your eyes.

“This would be a great time to convince me you do like me.” You said leaning in a bit.

“And how do I do that?” He asked following your lead.

“By kissing me maybe. I feel like that might convince me.”

And then he did, he leaned in all the way and placed his lips against yours.

And when he did you could feel him sigh against your lips, like this was something he had always wanted and had finally gotten.

Your lips moved against each other for a while before pulling away.

“Did that convince you?” He asked with a breathy smile on his face.

“Maybe. Although not entirely yet. Maybe you should do it again.” You said in the same breathy tone.

He smiled wider and leaned in to kiss you again but the moment his lips touched yours Jill’s voice could be heard outside the locked door.

“Is someone in here? Please help.”

Charlie looked at you before you nodded and he got up to open the door. Jill stepped into the room and when you had finally made your way onto your feet you felt something hit the back of you head.

The next time you woke up you were in a hospital bed.

Your head throbbed slightly but for the rest you felt no pain. Painkillers probably.

It was night. The barely lit room and the dark sky outside the window gave that away.

You tried to sit up and groaned in the process of doing so.

The curtain on your left shifted and out from behind in came Charlie, attached to his own IVF that you just noticed was also attached to your hand.

“Good morning sleepyhead.” He said with a slight smile.

You returned it before asking what had happened. The last thing you remembered was what you presumed getting hit on the back of you head before passing out.

“Mind if I sit with you while I explain?” He asked with a slight sigh but a small smile nonetheless.

“Not at all.” You said already moving over to make space for him.

Once he was seated he turned to you and began to explain.

“It was Jill and Trevor. They pulled a real Bonny and Clyde on us. Decided they were going to kill us all and blame one of us. They were going to play themselves off as the only surviving victims but that didn’t work out the way they wanted.” He turned to look you in the eyes and when he noticed you playing with the bedsheet anxiously he placed his hands atop of yours. Intwining your fingers.

You looked him in the eye and nodded, letting him know you were listening. And so he continued.

“After she hit you on the back of the head I acted fast and slammed her head into the wall. I uuhh…. I might have slightly ran… towards the kitchen and she followed me. Trevor was there and he tried to shoot me but I ducked and he shot Jill instead. When he saw what he had done he shot himself. I walked back to you and the cops arrived shortly after.”

You processed what he said before turning to him again.

“So�� it’s over. They’re dead and we’re not?” You asked.

He nodded at you and squeezed your hand. You also nodded before asking him if he wanted to lay with you. He did. You both laid there for a bit before he pulled you closer and kissed your forehead.

“Thank you Charlie.”

“What for?” He asked.

“For staying with me. You could have easily waited in the kitchen or ran for it but you didn’t. Actually, you kind of saved us all by thinking quick and ducking. Who knows what would have happened had you not done that.”

He chuckled slightly and kissed your head again. You lean your head upwards and kissed him softly. The kiss didn’t stay soft however and you both had to break apart for air soon enough.

“Can I touch you?” He asked oh so sweetly and when you whispered out a soft yes his hands started wandering down your waist.

The kissing, or rather making out, resumed as his hands kept wandering.

Slipping under the hospital gown he grasped the waistband of your underwear before breaking the kiss.

“Can I take this off?” You nodded heavily and he slipped your panties off.

He fingers started toying with you as he swallowed every gasp and moan with his lips.

He dips a finger into you as his thumb starts drawing circles on your clit. You squirm farther into him as he adds another finger. Once he has two of them he starts pumping them at a steady rhythm.

Whispering sweets things in your ear about how well your doing and about how your such a good girl for him.

It doesn’t take long before you feel that familiar feeling of bliss approaching.

“Charlie- fuck I’m gonna cum.” He smiles against your lips before stopping his hand. Earning a bunch of whimpers from you.

“Charlie, please.” You whisper against him.

“It’s alright love, I’ll make you feel real good.” He moves his hands and pulls off his boxer before lifting your leg over his hip.

You feel him tease his cock through your folds and then slowly entering you. You both whimper as he slides in and he gives a sigh of relief when he bottoms out. He places his hands on your hips.

Staying like that for a moment before you push yourself down on him. He picks up a steady rhythm and it doesn’t take long before you both start moaning louder.

“You’re doing so well, taking me so well. Fuck, you feel so good.” He starts rambling in your ear praising you the entire time.

“I’m so close Charlie.” You whine into him.

“Me too, love. Me too.” He says before kissing you, his hips start moving erratically before you both reach your peak.

You both lay there for a moment coming down from the high. His dick growing soft inside you.

“You did so well, making me feel so good.” You paise him. He chuckles softly before pulling out and pressing kisses all over you face. His hands kneed your sides.

“Let me get you cleaned up, hm.” With that he gets out of the bed and you see a light start shinning against the wall.

He returns a moment later with a washcloth and cleans you off before getting both our clothes fixed. Afterwards he gets back into bed with you and hugs you close to him.

He smirked into the darkness. You didn’t need to know that he was actually the one that shot Jill and Trevor and staged the whole thing. Dewey was way too caught up with everything to question his story so as far as anyone knows he was completely innocent and he got the girl. He could not be happier.

authors note: I hope you enjoyed!

#charlie walker #charlie walker x reader #scream 4 imagine #scream 4 fanfic #scream 4 #rory culkin x reader #rory culkin smut #charlie walker smut #rory culkin

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phantomvegetable · 2 months ago

Text

Ghostface x Reader

deceptive devices tw’s: danny johnson, strong language, panic attacks

Danny was getting bored. Day in and day out, night after night, he was tasked with picking off little worms that gave him the same reactions every time: scream, cry, plead, beg, die; cry, scream, beg, plead, die. And so the cycle would repeat.

“Come on,” He often finds himself complaining to the empty air at night, almost like a prayer to the Entity. “Give me something new. You’re a fan of chaos, aren’t you? Let’s stir some real shit up.”

Soon, his request would be acknowledged—but not without a little coaxing.

The Entity demanded to be fed, to be satiated—and when Danny may or may not have missed his quotas more than once, punishments be damned—he knew he had gotten his way when he woke in a place that was not his home. Smirking, Danny pushed his way through the fog, brushing aside the curious observation that he was not wearing his usual ghostly attire.

It was only when he came upon a campfire surrounded by familiar, undead faces that Danny realized what was being answered was not his fantasy, but actually his worst nightmare.

A girl’s head perks up at his presence before he can even hope to slink away without being noticed, having to force an unnatural smile as more eyes fell on him from the circle. Shit.

“Oh?” The same pigtailed girl raises her brows. “A new survivor?”

“Poor bastard,” An older man sighs with a shake of his head. Danny’s blood boils with indignation, fingers twitching as if they itched for a knife that he did not currently have. He could murder this entire camp within minutes—they were the unfortunate ones, not him. “What’s yer name, kid?”

Just to get a rise out of them, Danny tried to answer with a snide “Ghostface,” but found that his own body would not let him. He fought with the spell for a good few seconds before giving up with a scowl, crossing his arms much like a child throwing a tantrum. “It’s Danny.”

“Nice to meet you, Danny,” A woman with curly hair and glasses smiles warmly at him. He curls his lip in a half-assed attempt at a returned greeting. “My name is Claudette. Over there is Meg, and this is Bill…”

She takes a painfully long time to introduce the rest of the survivors around the fire, sans a few others who were currently in trials according to Claudette. When she finishes, Danny politely asks where he can sleep, claiming to have a whopping headache, and is pointed in the direction of their tent site. He thanks them with a wry smile before abruptly turning on his heel, his face dropping into a sour expression.

This was not what he meant when he said he wanted a change, at all.

“Two can play at that game,” Danny utters under his breath, making a break for it once he’s out of sight. The fog promptly swallows him, chews him up, and spits him right back out to where he started.

So he tries again. And again, and again until Danny inevitably has to accept that he is stuck un the survivor’s camp. “What’s to stop me from killing them?” He asks the fog.

There is no reply. Danny grumbles.

For starters, he didn’t have a weapon—he’d have to swipe one off of one of the meatsacks, if they even had any. Secondly, if they decided to gang up on him and fight back, he would be seriously outnumbered…

The cons outweighed the pros, and Danny unsatisfactorily had to settle for doing nothing—for now, at least.

Deciding on a tent at random—he didn’t care whose it was—Danny slipped inside, snooping around personal belongings until sleep weighed his bones down like an old friend wanting to catch up after decades of being away. And, begrudgingly, Danny allows his eyes to close for the first time in a long, long time.

———

Something cold and wet jostles Danny from his rest a few hours later, causing him to stir with a snort. He opens his eyes to a black nose sniffing at him, followed by a brown-eyed gaze and floppy ears that perked curiously in his direction. A dog?

Danny stretches a hand out to the creature, earning a flinch and it backing up a few inches. He tries to coax it. “Shh, there, there…” It growls lowly before barking at him once. Danny cringes. “Hush, you mangy mutt..”

It barks again, tail wagging. Ugh.

A voice calls out a name—the dog’s, he supposes—which causes the canine to turn. Moments later, a head pokes through the flaps of the tent and peers down at Danny. “Oh, you’re awake.”

“Against my will…” Danny bites out bitterly. You don’t laugh.

“Well, good. Then you can tell me what the hell you’re doing in my tent.”

“Just having a little shuteye,” Danny groans as he sits up, rubbing at his face. He doesn’t remember the last time he’s slept that long—it was almost as if he was cursed to remain active at all times in this place as a killer while the human survivors were afforded all the luxury of sleeping after trials. It irks him. “And I didn’t know this was your tent. How am I supposed to know whose is whose?”

You cross your arms, eyes narrowing harshly. “If you had bothered to listen to anything Claudette told you, you would have found your tent on the other side of camp.”

“Geez, aren’t you a ray of sunshine…” Danny stands after popping his back, finally taking in your appearance. You must have been in a trial during his arrival, because he doesn’t recognize you—and he would. Fiery eyes, a cross attitude… you were just his type. Danny chuckles to himself.

“Something funny?” You raise a brow. Danny’s back to playing pretend, waving his hands dismissively.

“Sorry, it’s nothing.” He then juts his chin at the dog that woke him up, the animal now sitting on its haunches and looking up at you with its tongue lolling out. “Who’s the pooch?”

Your eyes flitter to it, then back to Danny, your feet shuffling in a way that lets him know you’re uncomfortable with the idea of giving the information away. “This is Daisy,” You introduce after a minute. “She’s my dog.”

“You don’t say,” Danny hums as he bends down to pet her. Daisy’s ears pin back before his hand touches her head, and she lets out a warning growl that has him backing off quickly. “Charming, isn’t she?” Your eyes rake him up and down.

“She doesn’t trust strangers,” You say lowly. “Especially creepy ones. And I find that she’s usually on the right track.” Danny feigns being hurt.

“You don’t even know me, Sunshine,” He juts his lip in a pout.

“That’s exactly why I don’t trust you,” You spit vehemently, jabbing a finger at his chest. “You may have the others fooled, but I know what you are.” Danny stills at that. Could you actually know?

“Oh?” He breathes, losing his playfulness. “And what would that be?” You shudder.

“I—I don’t know,” You veer, eyes flashing with momentary uncertainty. Then you’re back to a steely expression. “But what I do know is that something about you is off, and I will be watching you very closely.” Danny smirks, hackles lowering. So you didn’t know.

He leans in close, relishing in the way you recoil. “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” He purrs, tone light. You push him away in disgust, stepping back to give him space to exit.

“Get out.”

He happily obliges.

———

It’s a few days before Danny’s first trial as a survivor, giving him enough time to get a feel for his new teammates. Claudette, Kate, and Mikaela are all bleeding hearts who are quick to accept him without wasting a breath. Dwight and Meg are a bit more on the fence about him, but seem more willing to give him a chance than others. Then there’s you, Jake, and Bill, who are skeptical of his easygoing nature, casting looks in his direction anytime he passed by. Danny didn’t care—he welcomed the attention. Finally, there was Ace, who didn’t seem to care much about anything. He was just happy to have another player.

“Trust me, Danny-o,” Ace says while throwing an arm around his shoulders. It takes everything in Danny not to twist and break the appendage. “I’m like a good luck charm. Stick by me, and we’re sure to win.”

“Oh, sure,” Meg snorts, rolling her eyes from where she sits on a log across from them. “Like you bring us all to victory.”

“I help!” Ace counters, sitting up. “I’m at least better than slick over there who just creeps around with her dog.” You snort.

“And whose dog was it that saved you from nearly having your legs chopped off?”

Ace sputters, unable to come up with a retort. Danny’s gaze drops to Daisy.

“Does she come into trials with us?”

“She does,” You utter without looking up, focused on the piece of wood you’re sharpening. But Danny’s itching to get your eyes on him.

“Where did you find her?” He asks, strategically pinning you with a question. You falter, glancing down at Daisy who is asleep by your feet. Finding your resolve, you go back to gliding the stone against the stick in your hands, beating Danny at his own game.

“I didn’t. Like anything else in the fog—she came to me.”

“That reminds me of how I found my guitar!” Kate chirps, bringing the group’s attention on her. She continues her story about how when she was at her lowest point of despair, she was given her instrument, and blah blah blah blah. Danny wasn’t listening—he was solely honed in on you. Were you looking for Daisy when you found her? If so, how was it that you were given something that you cared about whereas he ended up stranded amongst a group of morons? It made no sense—and, honestly, it was a bit unfair. Frowning, Danny fails to realize you’ve met his stare. You cock a brow suspiciously.

“Something bothering you?”

“No,” Danny mutters, shrugging off Ace’s arm that was still on him and standing to his feet. “I’m going to bed,” He announces before stalking off without waiting for acknowledgement. He feels your eyes piercing his back as he leaves, no longer thrilled that he is your focal point in that moment.

On his way to his tent, Danny feels a somewhat-familiar breeze that whisks him away into a trial, the Entity promptly placing him in the streets of Haddonfield that Danny recognizes instantly. He rolls his eyes, the irritation he felt from earlier starting to take the form of a headache. He sees now why survivors needed sleep so much—they were so damn fragile.

“Let’s get this over with,” Danny sighs to himself, immediately setting out to find his old friend Myers.

He passes by generators, not bothering to fix them as Danny instead sweeps the area for any sign of Michael. He tries houses, trodden gardens, and the outskirts of the woods lining the neighborhood without finding so much as a bloody footprint. Growing increasingly frustrated, Danny follows his tracks back to where he saw one of the survivors—Meg, he thinks—slinking around in one of the homes.

If he couldn’t find Myers, he would just have to use bait.

Upon his silent arrival, Meg jerks abruptly once catching sight of him, causing the generator she’s working on to implode noisily. “Jesus!” She gasps, hand over her racing heart. Danny tries to hide a cocky smirk. “What are you doing just standing there?” Meg hisses, nervously scanning behind him. “The killer could see you!”

“Oh, I’m not too worried,” Danny says nonchalantly, leaning his weight against the wall. Meg narrows her eyes, mouth opening to bark something else at him when she tenses up. Strangely enough, Danny stiffens at the same time as her, an unfamiliar and unwelcoming sense of dread taking control of his senses. Meg inhales sharply, and Danny doesn’t have to turn around to know what she sees.

“Run!” She cries, scrambling to her feet as she high-tails it out of the room. Danny merely watches her go, a humorous chuckle escaping his lips.

“Never gets old, am I right?” He angles himself to face Michael, who just seems to stare at him. Danny forces down the terror that seems to rise in his throat, willing his heart to stop its incessant pounding. “Alright, now I know what you must be thinking. Why is he out of costume? Why is he talking to survivors? Well, I’m just as confused as you, bub.” Danny takes a step forward. “Now, will you please help me out of here so I can get back to what I do best?”

Michael, as per usual, is silent. But that isn’t what concerns Danny, no—it’s his body language.

Michael is poised as if he’s confused—which, admittedly, Danny would be at a loss too if he were in Myers’ position—and appears as though he doesn’t recognize him. His knife is half-raised, as if conflicted. He looks like he’s either ready to run away from or at Danny. Danny takes another step forward.

“Come on, bub. It’s me—don’t you recognize me?”

A pause, an uncertain shift, and then Michael’s knife is suddenly plunged into Danny’s shoulder.

Pain lights his every nerve on fire and Danny hollers out of shock and agony, staggering backwards as Michael pulls his knife back with a squelching sound. Blood spills onto his clothes, the floor, and down Michael’s arm, and Danny doesn’t find enjoyment in knowing that it’s his.

“Myers—“ He grunts, hand pressing into his wound. “What the—ngh—fuck? It’s me!”

But he isn’t listening. Michael moves forward threateningly, and Danny is appalled at how he flinches back. His heart is racing, his shoulder is throbbing, and he can’t stop hyperventilating. Panic sets in, blowing his pupils wide. Michael was going to kill him.

A flash of movement clouds Danny’s vision followed by a bright light that sends Michael reeling. Danny feels hands on him, helping him up, and before he knows it he’s being escorted out by someone.

They run, turning corners and vaulting platforms, until Danny asks to stop, his lungs begging for air. The hands let him go, allowing Danny to slide to the grass a bleeding mess, unable to catch his breath. He can’t focus on anything—his vision is all a blur. Everything starts to go dark when suddenly a weight is on his lap, grounding him momentarily. Finding the ability to raise his arm, Danny reaches out to first feel something soft, then a collar, then floppy ears.

“Just breathe,” A voice—your voice—finally registers in his ears, providing an overwhelming sense of calm that washes over him. “You’re okay.”

Danny wordlessly pets who he now realizes is Daisy, allowing her steady breathing to take charge in leading his own uneven breaths. He doesn’t even register that you’ve begun to stitch up his injury until he jumps at a particularly sharp prick.

“Sorry,” You mumble, not making eye contact. “Almost done.” You’re more careful this time, pulling the string taught before clipping it with your teeth. You move his clothes back into place, sitting yourself next to him after closing up your med kit and placing it to the side. You’re quiet, which Danny is grateful for while he searches to find his voice.

“Thanks, Sunshine,” He settles on, forcing a wobbly grin that you don’t return. He drops the act as he hisses out in pain.

“Why didn’t you run?” You ask bluntly. “You know they want to kill us, right?”

“Ngh… guess not,” Danny grimaces. “I thought having a little heart to heart would change his mind.” Your lips barely quirk up. Danny still counts it as finally being able to crack a smile out of you.

You sigh, standing to your feet after a moment. You offer a hand to help him up, Danny using his good arm to hoist himself to his feet. Daisy sits back, panting, carefree.

“Guess you’re not as threatening as I thought you were,” You murmur, more to yourself than to him. Danny still pretends to take offense.

“Not threatening?” He scoffs, leaning his head back. “Dollface, I could slice you into pieces with a toothpick if I wanted to.”

There’s a truth to his words that you don’t quite pick up on. Instead, you roll your eyes, motioning for him and Daisy to follow. “Yeah, yeah,” You dismiss him, throwing Danny for a loop when you take his hand in yours. “We can test that theory after we escape this killer, yeah?” You fix him with a look that is much softer than it ever has been, making Danny simultaneously freeze and melt at the same time. He can’t stop the smile that stretches across his face.

“Looking forward to it,” He banters. You squeeze his hand in retaliation.

#dead by daylight x reader #dead by daylight reader insert #danny johnson x reader #ghostface x reader #the ghostface x reader #reader really hit em with an “i know what you are”

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