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hard-core-super-star · 1 month ago

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push me on the counter, call me princess [W.Maximoff; N.Romanoff]

pairing: dom!wanda maximoff x sub!reader x dom!natasha romanoff

summary: you and wanda develop a connection you definitely shouldn't have with someone in a relationship. unbeknowst to you, it's all part of their plan.

warnings: PURE SMUT, MINORS DO NO INTERACT -> mentions of cheating! [no actual cheating, though! wandanat have an agreement, R doesn't know about it until things get spicy]; mommy + daddy kink; nipple play; impact play; wanda using her powers to hold R down; fingering [R receiving]; oral [Nat receiving]; twinges of humiliation; degradation + praise; nat's a little mean but we love her for it; use of the term 'slut'; probably more but i forgot

wordcount: 3.3k

a/n: so...i'm technically not doing anything official for kinktober this year because school is kicking my butt already BUT i have a few ideas for some very filthy smut fics so i'll be posting them this month. i haven't written for wandanat in a minute so i hope i did them justice. please let me know your thoughts, i hope you enjoy <3

* * * * * * *

It was supposed to be a one time thing.

That's what you told Wanda when she pushed you against the farthest wall in some dingy, badly-lit, New York bar.

The two of you had come back from a long, draining, mission and, instead of staying at the Compound and actually resting, you decided to go out and get drunk to let off some steam. The mission had technically been a success, but it had also been a pain in the ass...and in the shoulder, thanks to the knife wound you'd received.

So, yeah, maybe going out wasn't the best idea in the first place.

In your defense, it was borderline impossible to say no to the witch. Mainly because she was very convincing when she wanted to be, but also because of your massive, and borderline ridiculous, crush on her.

To make matters worse, Wanda was pissed off at Natasha for...something and you ended up taking the place of a supportive partner.

It would have been fine had the drinks in your system not made your inhibitions lower significantly, which rendered you helpless against the green-eyed woman of your dreams. Then again, it's not like you were particularly against that idea in the first place.

Maybe that made you a horrible person.

Maybe that made Wanda a monster.

But how could she be one when she whispered the sweetest words in your ear while taking you over the edge and destroying you in the most pleasurable of ways? How could there be anything wrong about her soft caresses and gentle smiles?

A part of you knows the answer. It's wrong because the witch's heart isn't yours. Or worse, because someone else's heart belongs to the witch.

Because for all their problems and arguments, Wanda and Natasha love each other. At the very least, they tolerate each other enough to stay together.

And you don't fit into their relationship.

You shouldn't.

But Wanda isn't a person you can just ignore.

She makes that perfectly clear no less than a week after your little "mistake".

You're in the kitchen at the Compound, eating some leftovers and scrolling through your phone to keep yourself occupied, when Wanda walks in. You don't need to look at her to know she's pissed off. Her energy is way too heavy to mean anything else.

"Hey, Wands," you say, barely looking up from your phone out of fear of falling under her spell once more.

She walks over to you, leaning against the counter and silently watching you for a second. Her silence honestly scares you, but you don't question her yet. You know better than that.

"You've been avoiding me," she says, her voice soft yet not gentle. "Why is that?"

A shiver runs down your spine at the question.

You know you can't lie to her, she's a freaking mind reader, but you can't exactly tell her the truth. You've both been trying to ignore it since the morning you woke up tangled together in her bed.

A bed she shares with someone who isn't you.

"I've been busy," you reply with a shrug. "Kate's been forcing me to train every day."

Clearly, that's the wrong answer, considering the tilt of her head.

Yup. You're fucked now.

"Is that so? I didn't realize you two were such good...friends."

Wanda pushes herself off the counter, taking slow, calculated, steps until she's standing behind you. If you weren't so focused on keeping your voice steady, you might have been able to guess what her plan in.

"Well, we both love annoying Clint and making Yelena mad."

She hums in response as her arms wrap themselves around you, pulling you back until you're firmly pressed against her.

The action almost makes you fall off your stool. You somehow stay put, though, even as every fiber of your being tells you to leave. The harsh truth is that you don't want to leave.

You want her so badly that the consequences don't seem to matter.

Nothing matters but her.

Which is exactly what she wants.

"You should be careful with the little archer," she says, her hands not so subtly caressing your sides. "You know she's just going to use you then throw you away when she's bored."

The irony in her words isn't lost on you.

You open your mouth to let her know that when her hands move up and brush against your chest. It takes all your willpower to stop yourself from gasping.

"Wanda," you hiss. "We're in the middle of the kitchen."

"Relax, detka," she whispers into your ear, your body instantly obeying her words. "You know I won't let anyone see."

"Do I?" you reply. "Because it seems exactly like something you'd enjoy."

The witch chuckles despite herself. "That's true but you're not the only trying to keep things a secret."

You know her words should make you feel worse about this whole thing but right now, they only serve to turn you on. As messed up as it is, there's something exciting about the situation.

About how much Wanda wants you.

So, even though you know you should push her away, you lean back against her, allowing her hands to explore your body however she wishes.

Your obedience (if you can even call it that) is instantly rewarded by the other woman. Her hands sneak their way under your shirt, her fingers drawing teasing shapes on your warm skin as she makes the journey upward.

"You're such a good girl for me, baby," she mumbles almost absent-mindedly. "Letting me use you like this. Letting me play with you whenever I want."

A part of you wants to put up a fight. To show her you have a bigger backbone than she realizes. That you're able to switch the tables on her whenever you want.

Unfortunately, that part of you goes quiet the second her fingers find your nipples. "Look at you, all ready for me, huh?"

"Shut up," you mumble as your cheeks heat up.

Your words of defiance earn you a sharp pinch to your already sensitive nipples. "Watch your mouth, sweetheart."

It's impossible to stop your back from arching as the leftover sting rushes through your system. You'd learned the hard way that Wanda could either be the sweetest or the most unforgivable lover. In a way, it made being with her all the more exciting...and unpredictable.

Then again, you can't pretend you don't like it. If you didn't, you would have never gotten mixed up with her in the first place.

"Sorry," you whisper, not sounding particularly sincere.

If Wanda notices, she doesn't point it out and instead goes right back to playing with your chest, squeezing and pinching your nipples as she pleases.

Her actions only serve to make you more and more desperate for her. It's almost embarrassing how good she is at reading you. At knowing exactly what buttons to push to turn you into a shaking, pleading mess.

A part of you knows it's thanks to her powers that she can read your desires so well, but you ignore the thought for now. You could beat yourself up over all this later, right now, you had a very important task ahead of you.

"You're eager today," she teases, her eyes zeroing in on the slight movement of your hips. "Did you miss me that much?"

You're not sure why you're in such a defiant mood today but your mouth moves way faster than your thoughts. "Yeah, Kate was too busy today."

You don't see the scarlet that begins to overtake her eyes since you have your back to her. You miss the warning signs until she uses her magic to bend you over the counter, keeping your hands behind your back.

"You're going to regret talking to me like that," she says, holding you down easily thanks to her magic.

It's obvious you should apologize and yet you remain as composed as you possibly can given the situation. As stupid as it is, you're still mad at her for putting you in this situation.

Out of the two of you, she was the one who was in the wrong. She was the one fucking up her relationship just because she was upset with her girlfriend. And she had the audacity to pull you down with her.

To make you like it.

You couldn't place all the blame on her and yet you did it anyway. As if that would somehow fix the entire situation.

Her hand comes down on your ass before you can make your predicament worse. The sudden sensation makes you jump, the leftover sting taking over your mind.

"Wanda." Your attempt to sound mad falls completely flat since your voice is far too breathless for it to be convincing.

She spanks you again. Once. Twice. Each time striking both harder and faster.

"Try again, detka," she tells you, her voice unforgiving. "And then maybe, I'll go easy on you."

She won't.

You know she won't. But the idea that she could is more than tantalizing enough.

Although, then again, it wasn't like you didn't enjoy calling her by her beloved title.

"Mommy," you whisper, your voice sounding way too loud in the empty kitchen.

You don't need to be looking at her to see the proud grin that takes over her features.

This is the real reason why she wants you. Why she likes being with you. Because she doesn't need to fight you to get you to submit to her every whim.

"Good girl." Wanda's hands toy with the waistband of your pants. "Tell me what you want."

You allow the silence to drag on for a second longer than necessary. You both know you won't deny her, you can't, but that doesn't mean you can't keep her guessing.

Maybe then she'll grow tired of you and stop using you so carelessly.

"Want you to touch me...please, mommy."

You half expect her to drag the moment out until you can't hold yourself back from begging for more. For her.

She doesn't, though, because unbeknownst to you, she's playing a different kind of game with you today.

Wanda uses her powers to undress you, barely giving you a second to register just how vulnerable she's leaving you. You know no one will walk in on you two, she promised you that much, but that doesn't make it any less scary...and thrilling.

"Look at you," she coos, her fingers spreading your slick folds. "So wet and I've barely even touched you. Such a needy thing, aren't you, sweetheart?"

It's embarrassing how hard your walls clench around pure air from the mere tone of her voice. It's that intoxicating mix between degrading and sweet that you want everything she's willing to give you.

"Yes, mommy," you whimper.

"Oh, I know," she says, pushing the tip of her index finger into your tight cunt. "She's such a good girl, isn't she?"

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion but her powers hold you down and stop you from turning to look at her. Your question is answered before you can even ask it, though, as a certain pair of black boots make their way into your field of vision.

"I'm not sure." The sound of Natasha's voice sends a shiver down her spine. "She looks like a desperate slut to me."

Wanda stops you from answering, thanks to her powers. "Oh, come on, Nat, don't be mean. Look how eager she is to be played with."

The redhead rolls her eyes. "That just proves my point."

The witch laughs, taking the moment to sink her finger deeper into your pussy, relishing the wet sounds that fill the kitchen. You're more than a little humiliated, but there's nothing you can do to stop it. Worse, there's nothing you can do to deny how wet the situation is making you.

How desperate you are for more.

Wanda knows. Of course, she knows. It's partly because of her powers and partly because she knows your body far too well. And because she knows you so well, she gives you a chance to call the whole thing off before it even truly starts.

"What's your color, y/n?"

It would be so easy to say "red" and stop everything. You know there would be zero judgement. That despite whatever agreement they've come to, they'd both take a step back and make sure you were okay.

And yet...you can't seem to form the word.

Because, as much as you don't want to admit it...you want this.

"Green..." you whisper.

Wanda leans in, taking your mind off of Natasha's eyes on you, and peppers soft kisses across your back. The softness of her lips is a stark contrast to her previous demeanor and it helps calm down your speeding nerves.

The Russian steps forward, her hand cupping your face and gently tilting it backward until your eyes meet. "You want this, don't you, darling?"

You don't want to admit it but you can't bring yourself to lie to her. "Yes...I want this."

The sharpness in her eyes fades away slightly. There's still an edge of annoyance in her features but she looks almost as turned on as you feel. "Good girl."

Your walls clench around Wanda's finger and she chuckles before starting to move in and out of your tight heat. "I think she likes you, Nat."

"Shut up."

Wanda adds another finger into the mix, expertly stretching you out and drawing out a long moan from your parted lips. "That's it, just give in, sweetheart. Doesn't it feel better when you stop thinking so much?"

It's startling how right she is.

She doesn't wait for an answer this time, though, she simply speeds up her movements, curling her fingers in the way that drives you crazy. The pleasure slowly overwhelms your mind, removing all other thoughts until all you can focus on is how good it all feels. How much you like submitting to them like this.

"Mommy..." You whine, watching the way Natasha's eyes darken in response to your sounds. "Please...need more."

"Aw, are two fingers not enough for you, baby?" The fake pity in her tone turns you on more than it should. "Does your greedy pussy need more?"

You nod desperately, ignoring the humiliation that lingers in your every move.

All that earns you is another laugh from Wanda and an eye roll from Natasha.

The redhead steps back from you, causing you to whimper, before her hands move to her belt. Her eyes remain on yours as she starts removing her garments, slowly revealing the red strap-on resting between her legs.

Your lips part almost instantly once you catch sight of the full size of it and just how incredibly dominant it makes Natasha look. You shouldn't be surprised considering what everyone, including Wanda, always say about her. Then again, seeing is believing.

"So fucking eager, aren't you?" You know the Russian is technically making fun of you, but you can't help feeling a bit proud of yourself for the grin on her face.

She steps forward, her hands coming up to tangle in your hair and guide you forward. There's something weirdly soft about her movements, about the way she takes her time with you. Maybe, just maybe, she likes you more than she's let on.

You wrap your lips around the head of the dildo, your eyes glued to Natasha's face. You can see the flecks of pleasure spreading across her features, the way she clenches her jaw to stop herself from vocalizing it. It's like you're stuck in a far too arousing competition with her. Each of you trying your damn harderst to break the other.

Unfortunately for you, you also have Wanda working behind you, her fingers restlessly pumping in and out of your soaked entrance. She knows exactly how to wind you up.

Exactly how to keep you on your toes yet wanting more.

Natasha guides you further down her cock, working the length deeper into your mouth. "You look so much better like this, malyshka."

"I told you," Wanda pipes up, choosing that exact moment to work another finger into your tight heat. "You just wanted to be a party pooper."

"Keep talking like that and you'll be next, Maximoff."

"You're no fun."

You've never heard Wanda like this. So pouty and borderline bratty. It's a stark contrast to the dominant woman you've grown so attached to. To the one that turns your brain to putty with just a few words.

"Don't get any ideas, sweetheart. Mommy's still in charge here."

You moan in response, the sound muffled by the dildo currently stuffing your mouth.

"If you're Mommy," Natasha says, starting to thrust into your mouth. "Does that make me Daddy?"

You try to voice your approval for the title but neither of the women pay attention to you. They just keep talking like you're not even there, like all you are is a toy for them to play with.

"I thought you didn't like being called that."

The redhead shrugs in response. "I don't but now I'm curious."

"I think our good girl would like it."

You wait for Natasha to complain and say something about how you aren't theirs. Maybe make fun of you again for even thinking they'd ever entertain that idea.

She doesn't, though.

All she does is double her efforts as she keeps thrusting into your mouth.

The kitchen fills with the sounds of your pleasure as they both play with your needy holes.

You feel yourself growing closer and closer to the edge, the coil in your stomach getting tighter with each one of their well-timed thrusts. You're completely at their mercy and you love every second of their never-ending show of dominance.

Of control over you.

Wanda's movements speed up and you do your best to ask for permission to cum, knowing all too well the consequences that would await you if you forgot. It's practically impossible to speak, though, considering the way Natasha is still thrusting into your mouth, her hips grinding against the base of the dildo each time she slips the length back inside.

"I know, baby," the witch reassures you. "You want to cum so bad, don't you?"

All she gets is a muffled whine in response, your body jerking forward when her thumb teases your swollen clit.

"Go ahead, darling," Natasha speaks up, her voice practically a low growl. "Cum all over Mommy's fingers for me."

You're not used to receiving such a command from the redhead and yet your body reacts immediatly to her tone. Your whole body seems to come alive as you fall over the edge, Wanda's fingers never ceasing in their movements. She expertly draws out your pleasure until you're left shaking and panting.

The ringing in your ears doesn't allow you to hear the string of moans that leave Natasha's mouth as she watches the scene. The sight of you coming undone so violently causes her to fall apart, her fingers tightening in your hair until you're sputtering for air.

Thankfully, Wanda knows your limits well.

No words are exchanged as she uses her magic on you again. You're barely coherent, your mind still too muddled by pure pleasure and the cotton-filled haze of submission.

She gently sets you down on the couch, wiping down your soaked skin with a wet cloth, making sure to look you over in case their rough movements bruised you up.

"You okay, darling?" The witch asks as she settles down next to you.

You nod in response, shifting a little until your head rests in her lap. "Yeah...just tired."

"You should get some rest, detka. We have a lot to talk about."

Her words make you laugh. "That's an understament, Wands."

"Whatever." She moves her hand down to run her fingers through your hair, gently scratching your scalp as sleep overcomes you.

There's a lot you don't understand, a lot you really figure out, but you feel safe with the knowledge that you haven't ruined anything. That you're not an intruder in their relationship. If anything, you're a welcome addition.

#wandanat x reader #kinktober 2024 #wanda maximoff x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #wandanat #wandanat smut #wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff #mommy wanda #avengers fanfiction #marvel fic #mcu imagine #wlw fic #writing

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certaimromance · 4 months ago

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𝜗𝜚 Holding Us.

Spencer Reid x Fem!reader

Summary: You finally had a perfect date with the guy you like, you even kissed and everything seemed perfect. But suddenly he starts acting weird and you think you know this behavior.

Words: 2,5k.

TW: mentions of trauma, death, injuries. drugs and addictions!!! especially spencer's history with them. angst and also comfort???. spoilers for season 2. english is not my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: Next time I'm probably going to write something that might be all fluff, but drama and angst are calling to me.

♡ Enjoy! ♡

The taste of green tea, accompanied by ginger, entered your throat again and you couldn't help but let out a sigh. Your reading glasses fogged up and you mentally cursed yourself for not remembering to take them off sooner. Your mind was elsewhere and the bandage on your right hand made it impossible for you to go about your business normally.

You settled into the jet seat and tried to ignore the pain you felt in your arms to continue reading normally and turn the page, but it was still impossible and not even your favorite hot drink worked as medicine. All the recent events were replaying in your mind like a movie, and being attacked by a serial killer on your first case after a long flu break was worthy of a dramatic script.

Fortunately, Spencer was your partner at the time and helped you just before the unsub could use his knife on you badly and end your life in the blink of an eye. You had cut your hand deeply in the middle of the struggle and Reid appeared to save you when you were lost, even with his few physical skills, he fought the man as best he could and shot him without even hesitating.

You didn't even get a chance to thank him because it all happened so fast and he'd been acting weird since you came back to work after your break. In the ambulance, he barely looked at you when the paramedic finished patching you up, asked if you were okay, and then went back to acting like you were a pest to be avoided at all costs. You kept wondering if you'd done something wrong, because just four weeks ago the two of you had the best date of your lives, even kissed, and now you weren't even acting like friends.

You began to wonder how much could have changed in a week. Everything was fine until you officially went back to work and tried to act normal. You got sick after the date, Spencer was a gentleman and brought you soup and flowers for days, even though he knew you wouldn't let him see you. And then, overnight, you found out that he'd been kidnapped in a case while you were away, and assumed that was why his constant messages and calls had stopped. You came back thinking that you could be a support to him after such a traumatic experience, but instead he avoided you.

“Is everything okay?” Hotch's voice startled you, almost causing you to drop your cup on the floor. He was sitting in front of you and you thought he was asleep like everyone else.

“Oh, you scared me.” You put your hand over your heart and put the teacup down on the table to look at him.

“You haven't answered my question.” He insisted, settling back in his seat and giving you a look that compelled you to tell him everything. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I was just thinking about what happened and how I didn't get a chance to thank Reid.” You admitted somewhat awkwardly, not wanting to make it obvious that your feelings went beyond friendship, although deep down you knew it was clear. “I've seen him acting strangely, I think he's avoiding me.”

“You should try to talk to him and ask him what's wrong. He saved your life today, that's not something you do by avoiding someone.” Your boss said in a reassuring tone, noticing your great nervousness about the subject. “I don't think he'll have a problem talking to you, and now he seems as thoughtful as you are.” He finished, pointing with his head.

You took the moment to look at Spencer and noticed that Hotchner was right. He looked as pensive and confused as you had been during the minutes you had all been traveling. He was frowning slightly, fiddling with his fingers and looking out the window, even though it was night and there wasn't much to see because of the darkness. You couldn't help but wonder if he was thinking about you.

“I hope you're right.” You murmured, taking another sip of your tea and looking at the papers the man was going through. “Strauss will send me home after this, right?”

“You can't do much with your injured use hand, you need a few days.”

“I'm fine and my other hand is fine, I have not even had to take painkillers. I've got it under control.” You replied tiredly, trying to ignore the pain you felt by making a gesture. “Please don't send me home. I can't anymore, I have to work or I will go crazy.” You added, practically begging him.

“Don't get used to it.” He warned you in a serious tone before continuing. “But I'll talk to her and you stay out of it. You'll just profile and theorize until your hand is right. Nothing more than that and where my eyes see you.”

“You're the best boss in the world, really, I'll buy you a mug that says that.” You said, getting up from your seat and holding back the urge to hug him, knowing it was too much.

“Agent.” He called out to you in a serious tone before you could do anything. “Be careful and tell me if you are in pain...just don't tell anyone I intervened for you or I'll fire you.”

“Understood, sir.” You replied in the same formal tone before heading for the bathroom.

Something inside you knew it wasn't normal for the stitches in your hand to hurt so much, so you slipped into the plane's bathroom as quickly as you could, thankful that most of the team was asleep enough to notice your groans as you moved forward and closed the door behind you. You carefully removed the bandage, seeing that a few stitches had opened up, and pulled the painkillers you'd been given to ease the pain out of the bag, but before you could take any, a couple of knocks on the door made you jump and pray it wasn't your boss.

“Who is it?” You asked in confusion.

“It's me, Spencer.”

You didn't even have to think before you unlocked the door and yanked it open with your good hand.

“Do you want to come in? I was just leaving...” You started to babble as soon as your eyes met his and all the nervousness of a teenager in love appeared.

“I wanted to know if you were okay, I saw you come in complaining of pain.” He explained calmly, lowering his gaze to your hand and watching it with concern.

“Oh, don't worry. I'm fine.”

“May I check?” He asked cautiously, and you nodded a little nervously.

You went further into the bathroom so he could do the same, and he did, taking the back of your injured hand after washing his hands to make sure everything was okay. He touched you so gently that you almost forgot the pain you were in without even taking the painkillers.

“One of the stitches opened up, that's why it hurts. But it's not infected, so they should just sew it up and you'll be fine.” Spencer reassured you while you looked at him carefully.

Incredibly, this was the first time since your return that he had said more than one sentence to you, and he was less than a meter away from you. It made you feel like a fool to be mildly excited about it.

“And how are you? You were the hero who took the worst of it and saved my life.” You pointed as you watched him carefully apply a new bandage to your hand.

As soon as you asked, he pulled away and unconsciously put his hand to his stomach, where the unsub had elbowed him pretty hard in the middle of the struggle. “I'm fine. Nothing I can't handle.”

“Sure?”

He nodded and ran his fingers gently over his stomach, wincing as he tried to hide the pain. You always thought he wasn't very good at hiding things. As soon as he looked into your eyes and saw your worried face, he repeated that he was fine. You raised a skeptical eyebrow, not believing him for a second about his supposed well-being. You had spent enough time with him to know when he was hiding something, just by looking into his eyes.

“You're a terrible liar.” You said, looking at him with narrowed eyes while he repeatedly shook his head. “Then let me see.”

Spencer's eyes widened at your request, but the blush that appeared on his cheeks betrayed that there was more than embarrassment in his expression. He hesitated for a moment, but finally agreed, knowing he wasn't going to get out of this one. He slowly lifted his shirt, wincing as he did so, revealing the large red bruise on his stomach, just above his hip.

Your gaze fell on the large red bruise on his stomach and you gasped, covering your mouth in shock. It was much larger than you had expected and the color much more intense. You reached out tentatively and gently touched the bruised skin, causing him to flinch involuntarily.

“Are you in much pain?” You asked in a worried voice, trying to decipher his expression.

“It hurts a lot.” He nodded slowly, wincing as you touched the sensitive area, sending a shiver down his back. “But I'll be fine, really.”

“Okay.” You whispered, not knowing if it was time to move away from him or not. Not knowing what to do, you spoke again and didn't move. “I wanted to thank you for what you did, I haven't been able to before.”

He seemed surprised by your appreciation, and even more so when you stopped touching him and took a step back.

“I would never let anyone hurt you.” He said seriously, as if it were an oath.

You looked at him for a few seconds to make sure he meant it, and then you looked down at the ground. Something inside of you was screaming at you that this was the time to talk to him and put all your doubts on the table for him to resolve. You needed answers or you would go crazy, and maybe this was the time.

“Spencer.” You called out to him and waited for him to look at you to start talking. “I wanted to ask you what's wrong, if I did something or I don't know, apologize if it was like that, because it's terrible to see you avoiding me.” You began to speak quickly because you were nervous. “And if it's about the other night...our date and all that. I'm really sorry if I made you uncomfortable and pushed you into something.”

“No, you didn't do anything.” He stopped you immediately and tried to touch your face to make you look into his eyes, but he couldn't because of a sudden pain in his stomach and he had to lean against the sink. “The date went well, very well. It was actually wonderful.”

“What's wrong with you, why are you acting like this all of a sudden?” You asked him. You asked him, taking a few steps toward him and noticing that his eyes were on the painkillers you had left on the sink. Then you noticed how dilated his pupils were. “Are you in a lot of pain? Do you need these?”

“I'm fine, I'm not acting out in any way.” He replied, completely ignoring your last question, but still with his eyes on the meds.

“Come on, I know you. I know there's something wrong with you, and you don't have to hide it.” You persisted, trying to understand what was happening to him. You could tell by his body language that he was tense and defensive.

“I said I'm fine.” He cut you off.

“No, you're not, I realized something is wrong.” You tried to approach him because of his erratic behavior. His hands had begun to shake and his fingers were inches from the box of painkillers. “You can trust me, I know you and I'm here for you.”

“You think you know me that well already?” His tone made you feel uncomfortable and invasive. You could tell he was bothered by your implications. “One date doesn't get you that far.”

Ouch, that was a low blow.

“I didn't say that, Spencer.” You said, trying not to sound defensive. You didn't want to start a fight when you were just worried about him. “I just want to help you.”

“I don't need your help.”

You were silent for several seconds, your eyes following his to the painkillers. “But you need these, don't you?”

The trembling of his hands intensified with your question, you could see his pupils seem to dilate even more at the sight of the drugs in your hands, and his breathing became irregular. He nodded several times after your question, desperate to get his hands on them.

“Since when?”

“What?” He asked confusedly as you took the painkillers from his hands.

“You know what I'm talking about.” You looked him straight in the eye with seriousness and much more concern than before. “I know an addict when I see one.”

Your words had hit him like a big bucket of cold water, freezing him in place. He barely blinked a few times before he spoke.

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

“We both know.” You took a few steps toward him and took his hands, stopping the trembling in them. “And that means you're not alone in this anymore.”

He could hardly believe what you said. His mind had convinced him that if you found out, you would yell at him, turn your back on him, or report him, and instead...you were comforting him?

Spencer felt unable to look at you, the guilt washed over him. He tried to pull away.

“You...I'm a drug addict, and you're not even mad?”

“I'm not one to judge you, but I am one to help you.”

His eyes widened slightly at your words. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. He desperately wanted to protest, to tell you that he was hopeless and completely lost...but how could he? You seemed so determined to stand by his side and support him, even after learning such a painful and shameful truth.

“You won't...leave me?”

“I would never leave.” You gave him a small smile and felt him drop his head on your shoulder and relax. “It's going to be okay.”

Finally, he closed his eyes and let out a choked sob without pulling away. Your words had hit him at a low point, and the reality of the situation had come crashing down on him after he had tried to ignore it for so long. He slowly embraced you, feeling that he would collapse without your support.

“Everything will be fine.”

And you were so sure of it that you saw yourself in the mirror every day.

#spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #matthew gray gubler

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have-you-seen-my-sanity · 5 days ago

Text

Stupid idea

Marc Spector x fem!reader

Summary: You thought he was a bad guy, so you *tried* stealing his money. Turns out it was a bad idea. Or was it?

Cw/triggers: Nsfw, p in v, pred/prey dynamic if you squint, only a little bit plot.

A/n: Trying to rob that merc with a mouth could end in a veeery sticky situation... I said could...

Normally you wouldn't run around and rob people, but this guy...

The first time you saw him was when he was chasing a guy, who was trying to shake him off by throwing stuff into his path, but the man chasing him was running after him like a bull chasing someone waving something red.

You didn't pay much attention then, but as you were minding your business, you saw them at a roof, with the guy in the grey jacket having no weapon, but then he stumbled upon guys who you thought were just helping the poor guy that got chased.

You saw the group taking out knifes, the man in the grey jacket had nothing, but he threw hands at them like no tomorrow. What was wrong with him?

Later, the man was the one holding a knife, with the group on the ground. Were they dead? You didn't know.

What you did was waiting for that man to come around a corner, before reaching into his pocket to snatch his wallet.

He was running after you like a mad man

Throwing stuff into his way only seemed to make him more determined to catch you.

He eventually catched you in an empty area...

And now he had you against the wall, your legs wrapped around his waist while he was thrusting steadily into you.

"Did you really thought you could rob me and get away with it?"

He hit that special spot within you, stars clouding your vision, you were already at the brink of orgasm and all you could do was moaning, whimpering and squeeze his waist.

"But I gotta say, you were a good chase."

Just as he said that, those words were the last straw, causing you to crash down on him.

While he groaned at the feeling, he had absolutely no intentions to stop, still thrusting steadily into you, only increasing the pace a bit.

"Give me another one, thief." he ordered.

You winced at the overstimulation, your legs were feeling like jelly and you'd probably just fall off if it wasn't for him holding your legs in place.

"Fuck," you breathed out, feeling the pleasure returning.

He rolled his hips right into you, causing you to almost lose it even more despite already being as cockdrunk as you can get.

Marc chuckled hotly beside your ear. "What? Thought I wouldn't deal with you?"

His breathing got quicker, so did his pace, pounding into you rapidly to chase his release.

The familiar feeling in your belly grew more intense with every roll and grind of his hips.

He sure must be close due to his heavy breathing and grunting.

You were already close to another orgasm, your inner walls squeezing tightly as your second orgasm hit the wind out of you, followed by his frantic thrusts and a drawn out groan as he painted your insides white.

Your sweaty forehead slumped down on his shoulder as you tried catching your breath.

With a gentle roll of his hips and a content sigh, he pulled his softened cock out of you.

"I'll let you go. But don't do that shit again, we clear?"

"Yes." you nod.

Slowly, gently, he released your legs, steadying you to not fall.

"Good. Now you go mind your business and I'll mind mine."

While you adjusted your clothes, he adjusted his own clothes, then casually walked out of the alley.

----------------------------

Tags:

@nekoyin @iolaussharpe-24 @steven-grants-world @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @krakenkitty

@buckyssugarchick

@mooksmouse @sugarplumz100 @faretheeoscar @tokkiwrites @lunaana-02

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#moon knight #marc spector #marc spector x reader #marc spector smut #marc spector x reader smut #oscar isaac #oscar isaac characters

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slut4thebroken · 1 year ago

Text

Chapter two: Helping Hand

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Arkham Knight/Jason Todd × Bruce's daughter!reader

Summary | You can’t stop thinking about what might’ve happened to him, so he helps you take your mind off it.

Warnings | 18+, sexual content, angst, smut, unprotected sex, breeding, oral (fem receiving), kissing, thoughts about torture and sexual abuse, vomit, crying fluff, Jay is a sweetheart and I love him

Words | 4.9 k

Notes | Three things: 1. I don’t have much practice writing emotional smut so I’m sorry if it’s not very good😣 2. I’m pretty sure the Robin suit was bulletproof and that’s why he didn’t die… but we’re just gonna ignore that when his scars are mentioned lol 3. I could not for the life of me find a gif of AK!Jason’s face that was wide and not super tall so enjoy this one instead lmao

Ao3 link | <3

Fic Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Chapter one

You stood, frozen, a few feet from the door. After a moment, you snapped out of it, now very determined to escape.

You maneuvered your legs through your arms until they were in front of you. Unsurprisingly, the knots are good. Jason’s always been good at them, in and out of the bedroom. You pulled on it with your teeth, trying to loosen it. When it didn’t work, you stopped, thinking of another way.

You’ve seen your father do this only once, but he’s done it a few times before so how hard could it be?… You tried to remember how he positioned his hands, then took a deep breath. After a few seconds of trying to make yourself do it, you scoffed- questioning why you would even try it in the first place.

“Nope- no. I can’t break my fucking thumb.” Instead, you found a knife in the kitchen and slowly started working it through the rope. It took way too long until it finally grew loose and fell to the floor, but once it did, you searched for a way out or a way to contact your father. After being unsuccessful, you sighed and sat on the couch.

The door being slammed shut made you bolt up- you must’ve fallen asleep. Jason walked straight into his room, not even looking at you.

“You have to let me contact him.” You said after he walked back out, now without his helmet.

“No.”

“You can’t just keep me here forever.” You snapped, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Don't tempt me, princess.”

“Jason, I’m serious.” He sighed and finally looked at you.

“I don’t plan to. But until this is done, you’re staying here.”

“What is this?” When he didn’t respond, you huffed. Then, “Does he know it’s you?” That made him freeze again.

“He should, since he’s the world’s greatest detective, but we’ve long since learned he doesn’t live up to that title.” Good. If he knows it’s Jason then he probably won’t be as worried about you.

“I need to let him know I’m okay so he can-“ You were about to say, so he can focus on stopping you and not on finding me.

“So he can, what?” His voice made you stiffen- you've never heard him sound so menacing before.

“N-nothing.” You said quietly, averting your gaze. You already knew he was giving you the “you better tell me right fucking now” look so you quickly changed the subject. “Are you going to kill him?” You asked quietly, scared of his answer.

“Not yet. He needs to suffer more first, then I’ll kill him.” You stared at him in shock and this time he was the one to avert his gaze.

“Jason, please. This is my dad we’re talking about. I don’t have anyone else.”

“You have me.” He said quietly, making you frown.

“You know that’s not what I mean.” He was silent for a moment, then cleared his throat and looked at you again.

“He deserves to die. You moved on from me so easily, I’m sure you can do the same for him.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“I saw you.”

“What?”

“With Dick. I saw you.” He gritted, making you stiffen.

“Whatever you think you saw, Jason, it wasn’t like that.” Your stomach twisted knowing that someone else other than Dick knew about that night.

“Really? Because it seemed pretty clear that he was fucking you.” He said bitterly. You swallowed thickly and looked at your lap, remembering what had happened that night.

It’s been a little over a year since you lost him. Dick was staying the night at the manor before heading back to Blüdhaven in the morning, that’s the only reason you even had this opportunity. He opened the door, hair messy, sweatpants low on his hips, and immediately invited you in when he saw your current state.

“I- I can’t… Dick, I can’t anymore, it- it hurts so much. I don’t want it to hurt anymore, please.” You whimpered. His hand cupped your cheek, wiping your tears.

“What do you want me to do?” He asked softly, gaze trailing over your face.

“Make me forget. Please, I just need to not think about it for a little bit.” You whispered, tentatively placing your hands on his chest.

“Are you sure?” Instead of answering, you placed a hand on the back of his neck and pulled him into a kiss. He was frozen for a beat before reciprocating. Never breaking the kiss, he walked you toward his bed and gently laid you down, then crawled over you. The rest of the night was filled with soft moans, whimpers of his name, and you forcing your thoughts back to him every time they wandered.

Afterwards, he laid next to you, both of you panting and staring at the ceiling. Without his touch, all of the thoughts came back full force and you recoiled away from him as you jolted up. You couldn’t even formulate a sentence but he seemed to understand when you gathered your pajamas and hurried back to your room.

You felt sick to your stomach. You used your best friend to forget about your dead boyfriend- his brother. The rest of the night was filled with quiet sobs and silent apologies to Jason.

“I know you won’t believe me, but it really wasn’t like that, Jay.”

“I mean, I always figured you’d eventually move on to Dick. I didn’t think I’d have to die for that to happen though.” He scoffed bitterly.

“That’s not what happened.” You said quietly, feeling nausea start to build in your stomach at the thought of you being the cause of some of his pain. “I’m sorry.” You whispered, eyes burning with unshed tears.

“What, now you’re gonna cry? You’re a big girl, you made the decision to use my own brother as a fucking rebound, so deal with it.” He spat and you let out a quiet sob as you turned to face the other side of the room. He was right… After doing what you thought was going to make you feel better, you only felt worse. Now instead of thoughts of his death and the torture he might’ve endured, it was also about how you betrayed him. You could have picked anyone else on the planet, but you chose Dick. The person Jason felt has always gotten everything and more. The only person he was ever worried you would leave him for.

“How long did you wait, huh?” His voice was much closer now and then you felt a hand in your hair, painfully pulling you to face him.

“Or did this start before I was kidnapped?” He sneered.

“No! No, it- it only happened once.” You sobbed, wishing you could turn your head away from him. “I thought… I thought he could help me.”

“Help you?” He scoffed.

“Yes! Because the love of my life was fucking murdered and for over a year, every single time I fell asleep or let my thoughts wander, my stupid fucking brain would make up things that might’ve happened to you since my dad didn’t let me see the video. So I was hoping that for just one fucking night, I wouldn’t have to think about that.” You yelled, tears streaming down your cheeks. His grip on your hair grew slack until his hand fell to his side.

“And did he?” He asked quietly.

“No.” A heavy silence filled the room and you looked down at your lap again. “I’m sorry, Jason.” You whispered. He sighed and started walking away. “You’re still mad at me?” The venom in your voice poorly masked your sadness.

“No I’m not fucking mad at you! How can I be after that shit?” He exclaimed, running a hand through his hair and closing his eyes.

“It’s okay if you are.” You said softly, despite the fact that your chest ached at the thought. “Just don’t be mad at Dick, it wasn’t his fault.” He let out another heavy sigh and walked back over, sitting on the right side of the couch, as far away from you as possible. You stared at the scar on his face, feeling bile rise in your throat as you imagined him screaming and crying. Or maybe by then he had been so tired- so broken, that he couldn’t even scream. Clenching your jaw as your eyes started to burn again, you wished that Joker was still alive so you could kill him yourself.

“Hey,”

“Huh?” You asked, moving your gaze to his eyes. Clearing your throat and willing the tears to disappear, you forced yourself to pay attention- to not let your thoughts wander again.

“I asked if you’re okay.”

“Oh. Yeah- sorry.” You lied, gaze straying back to the scar. How many other scars does he have now? Your eyes moved down to his body, imagining all of the places he could be permanently marred.

“I’d make a joke about you undressing me with your eyes but you actually look like you’re about to start crying.” He chuckled dryly, making you look up at him again.

“Sorry. I’m sorry.” Swallowing the lump in your throat, you forced yourself to look at the ground.

A lot could’ve happened in over a year. So some of your made up scenarios are probably true. Was it only Joker or were there others? Did they only torture him physically and emotionally? Or did they torture him... sexually too?

You could barely even finish the thought before bile was quickly rising up your throat, making you run to the bathroom. This wasn’t the first time you’ve gotten so nauseous thinking about what happened to him that you actually threw up. You slammed the door shut, not wanting him to see you like this, and once you finished throwing up you just sat on the floor and cried. You felt so fucking weak. And he probably needed you to be the strong one right now so you can help him with what he’s going through.

A hand on your knee made you jump. Jason was sitting next to you, offering you a glass of water that you gratefully took to swish in your mouth and spit back out into the toilet before closing the lid and flushing it.

“I’m sorry.” You croaked, not able to look at him.

“If I knew it was going to be this hard on you I would’ve stayed away. I’m sorry, sweetheart.” He pulled you into him, letting you rest your head on his chest as you tried to calm down.

“What happened to you?” You whispered and he stiffened.

“Baby, I don’t really think it’s the best idea for me to tell you. Just try not to think about it, okay?”

“I can’t.” You whimpered.

“How about I help you?”

“How?” He didn’t respond. Instead, he helped you stand, got out an extra toothbrush and put toothpaste on it, then handed it to you. You took it and tiredly brushed your teeth, watching through the mirror as he wrapped his arms around your waist and placed his chin on your head as he waited. You leaned back into his body and let your eyes fall closed, focusing on his chest moving with each breath and his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your side.

When you finished, he picked you up bridal style, making you release a startled giggle, and carried you into his bedroom. He gently set you on the bed, then started removing his tactile gear. You eyed him curiously until he was in just an undershirt and underwear. When he laid down next to you on his side, you mirrored the position.

“However you want me to help, I will. Whatever you want. We can just lay here and talk to get your mind off it or I can help you another way.” He said softly, bringing a hand up to brush your hair behind your ear, then cup your cheek.

“I need you, Jay.” You whispered, eyes fluttering down to his lips.

“Are you sure?” He rasped.

“Please.” That was all it took for him to slowly move forward and press his lips to yours. The kiss was tentative, experimental, but quickly deepened. His hand moved to the back of your neck to hold you against him as you moved yours to fist his shirt, pulling him closer. Without breaking the kiss, he pulled you on top of him, his freehand rubbing up and down your back in soothing motions.

“I missed you so much, baby.” He whispered against your lips, making you whine. When his hands moved to the hem of your shirt, you pulled back and ripped it over your head, then continued the kiss. Warm hands snaked up your back until he met your bra, effortlessly unclasping it and sliding it off your arms to the growing pile on the floor. You moved your hand to his cheek, gasping when you felt the raised skin.

“I- I’m sorry. I forgot and it startled me.” You said nervously, worried you had upset him.

“Don’t be sorry, princess.” You could tell he was being genuine. Leaning down slowly, you pressed a tentative kiss to the marred skin, watching his cheeks turn pink.

“C’mere.” He mumbled, pulling you into another kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you too. So much, Jay.” His smile was infectious and soon enough you were both sporting lovesick grins. He swiftly rolled both of you over, never breaking the kiss, and settled between your legs. Your hands made their way to his hair as he started trailing kisses down your neck, sometimes stopping to leave a mark. He quickly reached your chest and took your nipple into his mouth, groaning against you as his fingers stimulated the other one. When he was satisfied, he moved to the next one, giving it the same treatment.

You did your best to just focus on the feel of him and not let your thoughts wander. But even though he was right here in your arms, you still had trouble believing this was real.

“Am- am I…” He pulled up to look at you and you brought your hands down to his cheeks. “I’m so scared this is just another dream.” You whispered, gaze rapidly moving over his face, trying to re-memorize it just in case.

“I’m real, baby. It’s really me.” He said softly, bringing a hand up to cup your cheek. Slowly leaning down, you felt his breath fan your lips for only a second before he was kissing you. Your grip tightened on his face, scared that if you let go, he’d disappear. After a moment, you pulled back, gasping and panting, keeping him close to you. Opening your eyes to find him already looking at you, you nodded, giving him permission to keep going.

Jason continued his path down your chest and stomach until he reached your pants. He slowly dragged them down your legs, teasing you, and you tugged on his hair, expressing your impatience. He just chuckled and finished pulling them off, then placed his hands on your hips, tracing the fabric of your underwear with his thumbs.

“I’ve always loved these. My second favorite pair.” He said quietly, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Your hips bucked subconsciously and he looked at you with a teasing glint in his eyes.

“Have you forgotten your manners?” He said with a smirk, making you blush.

“…Please.” You muttered, embarrassed. When he didn’t move, you let out a needy whine. “Jay, please.” You pouted, giving him puppy dog eyes.

“How can I say no to that face?” He cooed, pulling your underwear off, then parting your legs and settling between them. When he licked his lips and let out a low groan, even your ears grew warm with a blush.

“So fuckin pretty.” He said under his breath, moving onto his stomach. “Perfect.” He placed a soft kiss to the inside of your thigh and you lightly tugged on his hair again.

“Jay, stop teasing.” You frowned.

“I’ve waited years for this. I’m taking my fucking time.” He growled. Despite his words, he slid his arms under your legs to pull you into him and immediately dove in, licking a slow stripe up your folds.

“O- oh… Jay,” You said breathlessly, hips flinching when he let out a loud moan. Like a man starved, once he got a taste, he grew even more eager. He lapped up your arousal as he fucked his tongue inside of you, but when he moved up and sucked your clit into his mouth, you let out a strangled moan, pulling him against you by his hair.

“Fuck! Oh my god… Jason,” You whimpered, unable to control the way your hips were rutting against his face. It felt as good as you remembered, maybe even better, and when a finger easily slid inside your drooling hole, all of your thoughts just completely vanished.

“How’s that feel, princess?” He grumbled against your clit, making your hips buck toward the low vibrations.

“Good- so fucking good, Jay.” You whined breathlessly. “Please don’t stop.” He inserted another finger, making your grip tighten in his hair as you threw your head back with a loud moan. The coil in your belly was so fucking tight and you prayed that because this was the first time in a while, he wouldn’t want to draw it out.

“Close-“ You gasped out, tilting your head back up to look at him. His eyes were closed and brows furrowed as he repeatedly sucked your clit into his mouth, never stopping the motions of his fingers.

“Come for me, baby. Please.” He all but moaned as his eyes flickered up to you. You held him tight against you as your hips maintained a steady rocking against his face. “C’mon I know you can. Let me taste you- I need it, sweetheart. Please.” How could you say no to that? He only had to suck your clit into his mouth once more before you were falling over the edge, feeling your entire body tremble beneath him. You sobbed out a moan, feeling so overwhelmed with emotions and feelings and him. But you never wanted to stop. You wanted to live in this moment with him forever, just feeling close to him and nothing else.

As you came down from your orgasm and grew sensitive, you knew he wouldn’t stop, so you pulled on his hair, trying to remove his mouth from your overstimulated clit.

“Jay- Jay, baby, please.” You gasped out, hips twitching in a useless attempt to escape the overstimulation. He reluctantly pulled back and you watched with half lidded eyes as he removed his fingers and sucked them into his mouth, cleaning them. You whimpered at the erotic sight.

“I hope you know that now that I have a taste for it again, I’m gonna have my mouth on that cunt at least once a day.” He smirked, making your cheeks flush.

“You’re so crude.”

“No,” He scoffed, “you’re just easily flustered. Now. Speaking of getting a taste for things again, if I don’t get my cock in you right now, I’m gonna explode.” He said as he moved up your body until he was leaning over you. You smiled, trailing your hands down his back and grabbing the bottom of his shirt to pull it over his head, but it quickly faded as you got a glimpse of his torso. Your eyes started burning as you examined all of the scars, ranging from knife wounds to a bullet hole.

Two fingers grabbed your chin and tilted your head up as he lowered his body until his chest was pressed to yours so you couldn’t see. But the damage was already done.

“Hey,” He said softly, moving his hand to cup your cheek. “Just focus on me and the moment. That’s all that matters, okay? Just us, nothing else.”

“I know… I’m sorry. I feel so stupid getting this upset about it when I’m not even the one who experienced it.” You let out a dry laugh, looking to the side. You really did feel stupid because of this and you hated it. It’s not like you.

“That’s not stupid. If someone did even a quarter of the stuff to you that he did to me, I would kill them in a heartbeat- Actually not a heartbeat. I’d cut off all their limbs and then just let them bleed out to really make them suffer.” You looked at him again and couldn’t help the way the corners of your lips turned up. “The point is, I would feel the same way. I’d probably also cry if I thought about it too much. So no, it’s not stupid.”

“I just- I feel so weak. And you probably need me to be strong right now after what you went through.”

“I’ve made my peace with it… Mostly. And I didn’t come back because I needed you to be strong for me, I came back because without you, I don’t have anything. Being away from you was probably the worst part- and I know it was selfish of me to force myself back into your life and open old wounds but when have you ever known me to be selfless?” He chuckled lightly and you scoffed at his words.

“You’re the most selfless person I’ve ever met.”

“That’s debatable. Point is, I just need you. Nothing else.” You gave him a small smile and snaked your hand around the back of his neck to pull him into a kiss. When you almost immediately pulled away, he tried to chase your lips, making you chuckle breathlessly.

“I love you, Jason Todd. More than anything.” The smile he gave you made your stomach flutter and your chest ache- you missed that smile so damn much. “Enough cheesy stuff. If you don’t put your cock in me right now I’m going to explode.” He barked out a laugh which just made your stomach flutter and chest ache even more.

“Yes, ma’am.” He said sarcastically, quickly throwing off his underwear and climbing back over you. The blunt head of his cock brushed your opening and you took in a sharp breath, waiting eagerly. He dragged the tip through your folds, coating it in your arousal and his spit, and you let out a low whine as you squirmed.

“Please?” You pouted, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and your legs around his hips. He didn’t respond. Instead, he applied more pressure until the head of his cock breached your hole, making your breath hitch. His brows furrowed as his mouth opened in a silent moan and he let his head hang down.

“Jesus- fuck. Squeezing me so fuckin tight, baby, I’m not gonna last.” He said through a moan. To be fair, you didn't expect him to. You don’t know what he’s been doing since he escaped, but you figured it wasn’t having sex.

“I don’t care. Please just fuck me, Jay, I need it.” You whined, making him let out what sounded like a whimper.

“Keep talking like that and I’m gonna bust right fuckin now.” He gritted, opening his eyes to look at you. You did your best to hide your smirk as you purposefully clenched around his length, making his hips stutter forward, pushing in a little more. When he saw your poorly concealed smirk, he narrowed his eyes. “You’re a fuckin tease, you know that?”

“Yeah well I like seeing you blush like that.” You looked up at him through your lashes with a teasing glint in your eyes and he placed a hand on your neck.

“You wanna keep teasing me and see what happens? Or do you want me to fuck you.” He asked, squeezing the sides of your neck lightly. When you huffed and looked away from him, you could practically feel his smirk. “That’s what I thought.”

He moved his hips again, not stopping until he was completely buried inside you. You let out a ragged breath as you struggled to adjust to his size- honestly it felt like he was all the way up your stomach and you knew that he was. You knew that if you looked down, you’d be able to see where his cock was bulging your stomach. And you really fucking missed that feeling.

“Now you’re speechless, huh?” He smirked. You glared at him, but it quickly softened as your face twisted in pleasure when he slowly started moving out. He dragged his cock back until only the tip was inside, then slowly forced it back in. You whined as he kept up the slow pace, but deep down you were a little grateful that he knew and respected the fact that you’d need some time to adjust, especially after all this time without it.

He removed his hand, then suddenly dropped his head into your shoulder, kissing and biting the skin before moving up to your neck to suck the skin in his mouth, leaving even more marks. You couldn’t hold down the embarrassing sounds crawling up your throat, but they only spurred him on. His pace increased slightly and the first unexpected thrust knocked the breath out of you.

“Missed you so fucking much.” He muttered against your skin. “Thought about you every day- about coming home to you… You kept me alive.” He whispered the last part hesitantly and you let out a choked sob from his words. You wished you could say the same, but you were under different circumstances. You lost the love of your life and if you’re being completely honest, there were parts of it where you truly wanted to die just to have a break from your emotions.

“I love you.” Was all you could think of to say. He pulled back to look at you, thrusts never slowing.

“I love you, sweetheart. More than you’ll ever know.” You pulled him down into another kiss, eagerly chasing his lips as the pace of his thrusts increased even more. He reached a hand down to your clit, making you release a muffled moan into his mouth before pulling back.

“God- I’m not gonna last long either.” You said through a breath, feeling the knot in your stomach grow tighter.

“I need you to come with me. Can you do that, princess?” He rasped, cupping your cheek again and moving his gaze back and forth between your eyes. You nodded with a whimper and he gave you a proud smile. “Good girl. Just gotta hold it a little longer, okay?” You let out a loud moan from his praise as your walls fluttered around his cock, making him hiss. But despite that, you did your best to hold it, wanting to come with him.

It didn’t take him long before his thrusts were becoming erratic and frenzied, rutting into you as he desperately chased his orgasm.

“Don’t pull out.” You whispered. You figured he wouldn’t since he said “come together,” but you wanted to be sure.

“Fuck,” He choked out, hips snapping into you as he neared his orgasm. “I won’t, princess. Gonna fill you up nice and good- give you what you want. But you need to ask for it nicely.” His words were strained as he tried to stave off his incoming release. You wanted to whine and hide your face instead of saying it, but you were rapidly approaching the edge and you didn’t want to draw it out any longer.

“Jay, please. Need you to fill me up- I need it so bad.” Your whine turned into a sob as you clenched down on him again.

“Good girl. Good fucking girl. You ready?” You nodded eagerly, trying to hold it until he actually gave you the word. Only a few thrusts later, he choked out, “Come with me, baby. Come now.” That was all you needed to let the knot of arousal in your stomach snap. His lips pressed to yours, muffling your cries and moans as his hips stuttered to a stop, now only bucking forward sporadically, trying to bury his length impossibly deeper inside of you. Using your legs and arms, you pulled his body completely against yours as you savored the feeling of his cock twitching inside you, filling you up.

When he pulled away, you both were panting, trying to catch your breath. He rolled you over again, never removing his cock, and had you lay on top of him completely, letting you rest your head on his chest.

“I love you.” He murmured, planting a kiss on the top of your head.

“I love you.” You responded, in the same tone, then placed a kiss on his chest. You could see some of his scars with the way you were laying, so you let your eyes fall shut, but even then, you didn’t think of it. For the first time in years, you just felt truly content. So content that your brain was satisfied not knowing what happened. You just prayed it stayed like that and wasn’t only because of postcoital bliss.

When he brought a hand up to run through your hair, you snuggled into his chest even more and kissed him again, before letting yourself relax completely.

Chapter three

fic timeline

———

Tag list

@igotanidea @clairacassidy @phoenixgurl030 @halleest @emmerskiri @randomgurl2326

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #smut #fluff #angst #arkham knight #arkham knight x reader #kissing #crying #dick grayson #jason todd smut #Jason Todd x reader smut

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love-bugsy · 1 year ago

Text

meet cut(e) | jason todd

the worst thing about love (two) / (one)

you’re just trying to get through your surgical residency, but this masked vigilante keeps showing up half-dead on your fire escape and reminding you of your dead best friend. oh well, at least he's cute.

tw: allusions to character death, depictions of grief, mentions of blood and injuries, swearing, completely ooc Jason but he’s like my own lil character now and I’m protective, i learned my medical terminology from grey's anatomy don't hate me

only jerks steal other people's writing (just don't repost, mate)

You’re awake when he stumbles into your apartment two weeks later. You stare at him owlishly; knees tucked up against your plush, non-indented couch, glass of Merlot in your hand kept carefully away from the carpet you just scrubbed the bloodstains out of. You set it gingerly on your coffee table, half convinced he’s not real.

“I got… a cut.” It seems strange for this masked vigilante - you may or may not have been doing some tipsy research on the hooded hero - to look so sheepish. All six feet of him stooped in your cramped apartment, one hand clutched to his side, that emotionless mask staring straight through you. You get up from your couch wordlessly, walking down the hallway to rummage through your bathroom.

First aid kit and isopropyl in hand, you return to his awkward stance in the middle of your living room; his gaze intently focused on your overstuffed bookshelf. His attention snaps to you when your sock-clad footsteps meet the edge of the plush rug separating you. From this angle, you can see the stubborn, brown bloodstain that you tried to hide under the leg of your armchair - little marks… stains or rusting memories… You gesture to your couch, and he sits, taking off his jacket.

Yanking a stool over to sit in front of him, you pull up his shirt, brows furrowing at the slice in his side. He’s undressed the cut you stitched up for him before he should have, and you examine it while you clean his most recent knife wound. Your stitches are far from perfect - the scar bulging in some areas - but for such a high tension wound, it’s healed well.

Your eyes flicker up to his blood red mask for a moment, and it occurs to you - distantly - that you should probably be terrified. I mean, seriously. A part of you screams that this is how people get murdered. Another part of you thinks that this is the most vulnerable he ever gets; his shirt off, gritting his teeth through the pain of 91% isopropyl alcohol.

Another - buried - part of you thinks this seems familiar.

Your gaze darts back down to his chest, lingering unconsciously on the end of the scar that cuts out from underneath his shirt. Your eyes catch on the ugly bruises decorating the tan expanse of his torso, some angry and purple, others a sickly yellow. He clears his throat awkwardly and your cheeks heat, returning your attention to sterilising his wound. Real classy, birdie, ogling a guy whose face you’ve never seen. He breaks the thick silence first, low voice crackling through his modulator.

“How’s it look, doc? ‘m I gonna survive?” You hide a smile beneath your exasperated look, brows knitted. Still, you can’t fully conceal the amused edge in your dry tone.

“You’re not nearly as charming when you’ve been stabbed.” He cocks his mask; unreadable. For a long moment, you think you might have actually offended him, until he huffs out a staticky laugh.

“Slashed, actually.” You scrunch your nose. Pedantic asshole.

“Look, I’ve had a long day, which wasn’t exactly made better by having to patch up a freak in a super-suit, so just… save the witty ironicism for someone who didn’t have to clean up baby vomit all day.” You can hear the smile in his voice when he responds, mask’s gaze still fixed on your face.

“Ouch, doc, and here I thought you were happy to see me.” A little pause as you meet his gaze briefly, unable to shake the familiarity… the instinctive fondness that warms your chest. His next words seem more guarded. “So, why’re you helping me then?” Good question. Your focus never falters from the slow concentric circles you’re rubbing around his wound with an alcohol soaked hand towel.

“I took an oath.” He laughs again and you quash the little spark of pride that hearing it gives you. You swap the towel in your hand for a roll of bandages and a plaster, applying the latter first before starting to wrap his waist.

“My bad, doc, I thought you were helping me out of the goodness of your heart.”

You scrunch your nose, trying to suppress the smile that tugs insistently at your mouth. Reaching for a clip, you secure his bandages and help him pull his shirt down so it doesn’t catch. You get up from the stool, shuffling it out of the way for your future self to move back in front of your kitchen island. Yawning, you stretch your hands above your head, a little noise of relief leaving your mouth when the tension in your shoulders loosens. You pretend not to notice how his mask tilts, lingering on the sliver of skin exposed as your shirt lifts.

He settles backwards, leaning his shoulders over the arm of your couch so that his legs don’t dangle over the edge. You watch as he yanks your throw blanket haphazardly over his torso and crosses his arms over his chest. You’re sure he must be keeping you in his peripheral as you startle out of eyeing him warily, but he doesn’t acknowledge any of it. Maybe to save you some dignity. Padding back to the hallway, you make it halfway before pausing, words spilling from your mouth unbidden.

“You can have some coffee, you know.”

“What?” The question comes out slurred, a full night’s worth of adrenaline finally dwindling. It brings back a flash of a near empty coffee pot - last dregs dripping slowly into a blue mug held in lethargic hands. You blink.

“In the morning.” He tilts his mask, and you stumble to elaborate, “When you sneak out. You can have some coffee.” Cautious, you study his reaction, but your vigilante doesn’t move an inch - his mask’s white slits boring holes into you like he’s trying to figure you out. Or waiting for a catch. You think he might trust you more if you give him one.

“You have to wash the mug, though. And the coffee’s old.” If you focus hard enough, you can hear something percolating - the coffee in your makeshift warmer or… the tenuous thread of something like dependency. He shifts on the couch and you suppress a wince at the stress it will put on his injuries.

“I like old coffee,” he hums out blurrily, hushed static of his modulator nearly rendering the words unintelligible. You flinch, turning off the living room light instead of responding.

You’re seventeen, he’s sixteen. You give him shit for being two months younger than you. It’s so late at night you’ll start to call it morning soon, and the two of you sit on opposite sides of a diner counter.

You lean over the counter, arms outstretched, dropping your head into your clasped hands. He reaches over you, pouring out another cup of old, lukewarm coffee. He follows it up with an unholy amount of cream and sugar - just how you like it - nudging it over to you with that wry grin of his.

“Tired, birdie?” You are tired, but not as tired as he is. You think maybe Wayne Enterprises should be funding his college tuition, not this superhero shit. Superhero shit that he never talks about, except. He used to tell you everything. You used to tell him everything.

Because he’s smart. He’s really smart. Smart enough to not risk his life every night. You want to tell him that but you know he doesn’t see it that way. In that mask, he’s infallible. Instead, you hum in agreement, dragging the mug closer and taking a sip. You scowl at the bitterness.

He frowns petulantly, looking at you with tired, amused eyes. “You don’t like my coffee?” You set down your cup, wrinkling your nose at the unexpectedly loud ‘clink’ it makes against the counter.

“You’re so dramatic, blue, only you like day-old coffee.” He gives you a dry look, one that says he’s too tired to mock-argue with you. So instead, you turn on the sink behind the counter, rinsing cutlery to load the dishwasher. You both sit in near silence, broken only by his fingers tapping carefully on the counter and your absent-minded hums.

You spend days agonising over a present as his birthday rapidly approaches, though you know he hates the fuss. You settle on a gunmetal grey lighter, shakily hand engraved with a bluejay. Something to replace his shitty BIC one, with its smudged sharpie lettering that barely spells out ‘JT’.

Secretly, you look forward to the sardonic comment he'll make about how he thought you disapproved of his cancer sticks. The truth is, you don't think you could stop enabling him.

A month out from his birthday, he drops by after patrol with your copy of Wuthering Heights. You ask if he liked it and he says he didn’t. Something, something, overly maudlin. He’s lying. He always gets that little specific crease between his eyebrows when he lies to you.

It feels like all you see lately.

Are the nightmares getting worse?

Lie.

Stayin’ out of trouble?

Lie.

Are we always going to be like this? Am I always going to lose you when you put on that suit?

Lie.

Over and over until you snap, poking a finger straight into the crease and smoothing it out. You tell him you want the truth and he tells you he can’t give it to you. You yell at him for ten hour-long minutes, sweeping angry gestures with your arms. One of them knocks over his half-full mug - blue shards shattering in the slow spill of murky coffee. You wish you remembered what he said to you, but all you remember is watching him leave. The last time he ever did.

You wait two weeks for him to come back, recording apologetic voicemails that he dodges with clipped, sullen phone calls. Then, he stops picking up at all.

His death isn’t reported on the news.

Alfred visits you once after he dies, carrying Jason’s old leather jacket like a sleeping animal that might come alive at any second. You don’t talk - not even when he hands it to you - you don’t know what you would say. You don’t know each other, you have nothing in common, except that you loved the same person once.

Your life shrinks - going through the same mechanical motions for months on end, school, work, home. It feels blasphemous to do anything but stare at the jacket - to lift it from where it hangs on the back of your door, to make it yours instead of his - until, one day, you can’t bear to be distant from him anymore. You put it on, shove your hands in the pockets like he always did, digging around. You find an old hairtie of yours in the inside pocket and a stick of apple pie flavoured lip balm you lent him last winter.

His lighter is in the front pocket, blue as his pale, dark eyes. Carefully, you place it on your desk, next to the one you meant to gift him.

Two lighters and you don’t even fucking smoke.

oof okay, this one was a bit of a monster (don't know if it bodes well for this series for me to have struggled with this chapter so much lol) but i hope you guys like it. :) i might have to take a little break over the next month because of my final exams, but rest assured, doc and jay will be back again come november. tysm for reading!

with love, bugsy

#series: the worst thing about love #love-bugsy #jason todd x reader #jason todd fic #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd imagine #jason todd reader insert #x reader

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slay-the-heroine · 4 months ago

Text

The Narrator:

The door to the basement creaks open, revealing a stairwell. It is dark, as all the torches have been snuffed, and are practically unusable. You can't see much, but the carpet that drapes down the stairs feels very well-worn and somewhat unpleasant. A light from the basement glows faintly.

The Narrator:

Maybe if there was more light, this wouldn't be such an uncomfortable feeling. If the Heroine does live here, slaying her is probably doing her a favor.

The Narrator:

A soft voice drifts up the stairs, drawling with uncertainty.

"Is someone there...?"

Voice of the Smitten:

Oh, her voice... It's already so untrusting. She is hiding herself away...

Voice of the Prince:

Does she know it's us? Does she remember us? If she doesn't, it's okay. We'll try our best to set things right, won't we?

The Narrator:

If you were "setting things right," then you'd take the blade and slay her. She obviously doesn't remember you, you've never met her before. It makes sense that she is untrusting, but it doesn't matter.

The Narrator:

You walk down the stairs and lock eyes with the Heroine. There's a heavy chain around her wrist, binding her to the far wall.

Voice of the Smitten:

We are unarmed, we are unarmed...

The Narrator:

You don't have to remind me.

Voice of the Smitten:

I'm hoping she can tell intuitively.

The Narrator:

Well, don't try to tell her. It's best to just go back and get it so you are armed.

"Nice to meet you."

Voice of the Smitten:

...What?

Voice of the Prince:

She doesn't remember us? That's fine! We had that plan ready, right?

Voice of the Smitten:

No, she—

The Narrator:

Of course she doesn't remember you. It's like I said.

Voice of the Smitten:

That— She-She's bluffing! Y-you can't tell?

Voice of the Prince:

How do you mean?

Voice of the Smitten:

She does remember us! She's just... pretending she doesn't. Can't you hear it in her tone? See it in... her eyes?

Voice of the Prince:

Oh? Does she? That's good too, though, isn't it?

Voice of the Smitten:

I... I don't know why she's lying about that, though... Is she that upset with us?

The Narrator:

Don't be nonsensical. Are you hearing me? You've only just gotten here, and you've only just ever seen the Heroine. You've never interacted with her before.

Voice of the Prince:

But we have! We at least know what she's like. I mean, the lying isn't too far off, from the whole stabbing bit.

Voice of the Smitten:

But we haven't done anything, she has no reason to lie. We have to explain this to her— Just... Be cautious about it. It's clear she doesn't trust us...

The Narrator:

She is a liar. I told you she was. There's no reason to explain anything. Just do your job.

>>>

#slay the heroine #choose your own adventure #slay the princess #slay the princess au #stp #stp au #slay the princess fanart #stp fanart #Sharp Damsel

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themainreactor · 9 months ago

Text

"I don't think this was the original plan... Oh well."

In which a suicidal boy gets kidnapped by his scary yandere girl stalker. He could care less and doesn't mind dying, however she cares and it confuses her why he doesn't. So she brings him with her into the League of Villains and for once in his life, he can say that he's genuinely felt... At least okay.

"You need help, y'know that right?"

"I know I just... I don't want help."

"How do you expect to get better then?!"

"Well I'm not really excepting to get better, I wasn't even really expecting to live this long."

"Why are you like this?!"

...

Y/N was kind of... Strange to say the least.

Y/N's not even sure why he can't just be normal, he wants to be but he can't help but feel like life would be better without him being there. Even if he doesn't try to gain attention, he still somehow does.

Whether it be bullying at his school, his parents disappointment in him, his friends leaving him because of how much his mental state is hurting them, or even him bothering the police and ambulances.

So he decided after a while to just stop trying to die because it makes it so much worse when he doesn't succeed and everyone gets frustrated. He got better over time... Well at least it took him about three years to convince everyone of that. At least people felt less worried and went back to their normal lives.

Yet he still seems to attract trouble.

So that's why he's not entirely surprised when he wakes up in an abandoned house one evening after his nap with a crazy looking girl kneeling at his feet. The walls were all graffiti'd, there was no furniture and it was already clear that the girl had some sinister intentions.

"You're awake! Hi there cutie!" The girl yells, happily jumping around before kneeling right back in front of him. He's not entirely sure what's going on and what's even worse is that he's pretty sure he recognized her.

"You're... That girl... You killed that boy in my school" He states, only to get a giggle and a nod as if that didn't matter whatsoever. Already that was the worst impression someone can have about another person.

She was probably going to kill him too and honestly he didn't mind, he just had a nap so at least he would die refreshed.

"Yep! That's me! That was my first love but you're my favorite so far!" She yells, gushing before placed her knife right against his neck.

"Y'know... You'd look even cuter with your blood all over you."

He only raised his eyebrow before activating his quirk, causing her to scream and drop her knife.

His quirk was emotion, he could control, level out or amplify an emotion in a person. He amplified fear in her, so that's why she was now shaking on the floor.

But now he actually felt a bit bad for her.

She was a freak, he could understand that much and he didn't blame her. Everyone called him a freak too. Plus, It was flattering since no one had ever been a freak for him, although it was concerning. What was he doing to gain her attention? Did she know where her parents were at?

He struggled with the zip ties that were tying him only to get one to snap and let go of his wrist. He sighs, turning off his quirk and watching as she cried and choked on her own spit. But she seemed more calm even though she was still feeling the lingering fear from before.

"So what do you plan do to me?"

"No! Not anything bad! I just... I wanted some of your blood..."

"Why? Don't you have your own?" Y/N chuckled.

"...Yeah... But I want to be like you! I... I want to become like you because I love you!"

"... You don't even know me-"

"Yes I do though! Your name is Y/N, M/N, L/N! I know that you're really strong and that everyone at your school is scared of you! They think you'll take advantage of them with your quirk but I know you wouldn't do that! I also know that you used to date a girl And she left you for your best friend!"

"... And you know this all... Because?"

"Because I followed you and I like watching you at school and at home! Y'know if you want I can kill the girl and that fake friend of yours! Would you like me to do that?! It doesn't matter anyway!"

He just looks at her again, worried about what she meant. She loved him, so she was going to kill him... That made no damn sense.

"Just like the boy... Y'know we were confused, no one at school thought you'd do something like that. You were always that sweet and happy girl... Why'd you kill him?"

"I hated pretending that I was normal! But that's all anyone saw me for anyway! For example, is my home! Or it used to be my home." She mumbles and Y/N looks around the graffiti'd walls, it looks like it was once a girl's room.

He almost forgot what her house even looked like.

"I... I was born a monster, someone who couldn't live without hurting the people she loved... So... I want to become a really strong girl, someone who can make my own path and become those I love!"

"... That's why you want my blood?"

"Yep! I want your blood! You're so pretty and interesting at the same time! I want to be just like you! I love you!"

"How do you know you love me?"

"I just know I love you! You make my heart beat really fast and I want to kill anyone that hurts you!"

He remembered him and his mother bidding her family goodbye after they moved. He could recall how they came to comfort them even though most people hated them. People blamed them for not raising their daughter right but they probably tried to. He never saw them in a bad light, he always felt like they had tried.

He doesn't say anything as she tried to explain herself more, he just watched her. He knew that in this position she could still try to kill him. Now that he thinks about it though, he didn't really want to live. No one would be worried about him killing himself if someone else killed him.

He didn't have to pretend to want to live anymore... Just like she didn't have to pretend to be normal. So finally he gives in, silently handing her his wrist. She looks at it, confused before a hopeful smile came on her face.

"You... You want me to have your blood?!"

"Instead of stalking me, you should have just asked, you would have gotten it faster."

"... Really?"

"Yep."

The girl just looks at him, she's not sure what to say. With all the people she's killed and loved, never had any of them offered her something like that.

Why was there no hesitation in his voice?

He was definitely extra special, she couldn't possibly kill him now.

"... But why?"

"You'll be doing me a favor... I don't really want to live believe it or not, although I assumed you already knew that."

She did know that he dozed off a lot and that he seemed bored and sad sometimes but she doesn't like how unusually calm he was, it was unnerving how he didn't seem to care about the dire situation he was in. She wanted to kill him and he wasn't even trying to escape her.

So quickly she grabs onto his wrist, using the knife to only make a small cut. She didn't even try to drink the blood or save it, she just wanted to see if he would actually let her or if he'd even care. He didn't flinch and it made it worse so she groaned and started to cut the zip ties off of his other hand and his ankles.

"You good?"

"No... I don't want to kill you anymore."

"Damn, am I that boring?" He playfully asks, hoping to actually get her to reconsider what she said.

"You really want me to kill you?!" She yells

"Yeah, why not? In fact, please do, I wouldn't hold it against you, really." He shrugs before she almost growls at him. She had some canines that were definitely sharp, like a dog or even a vampire.

"No! I... I can fix you."

"... The hell does that mean?" He looks at her, suddenly worried that she was one of those fantasy medieval romance novel girls.

Those types of girls and women scared him because they could care less. If you even remotely resembled their book boyfriends, they would try to marry you.

"Do you know that hero killer Mr. Stainy that was on the news recently?!"

"Um... I don't think that's his name but sure, yeah the hero killer."

"I also want to be just like him! I want to be able to live in a world where I can be free."

"... Hate to break it to you, I don't think you can do that when you're killing people." He chuckled, gaining a cute giggle from the girl.

"I know that, silly! So, that's why, I'm going to join his group."

"His group? What group?"

"The League of Villains."

"... Aren't they their own group?"

"I don't know but I want to be like stainy! But I want to be like you too so why don't you come with me? I know you're bored with your life so help me with mine!" She happily jumps.

"... So... You're not going to kill me?"

"Nope! We should take you back home!"

What? What was wrong with this girl? Was she bipolar or what?

"... Okay... You still want my blood?"

"Yeah!" She smiled.

And with that she grabs his wrist before actually biting it and sucking the blood out of it.

"Ow... Y'know you still have time to kill me, how do you know I won't call the police and tell them that you're here?"

"Because you're too sweet for that!" She replies after letting her mouth pop off of his wrist. She was probably right though, he wasn't going to call anyone on her.

"Now, why don't we get some sugar cookies and you can go home? I know those are your favorite and I'll definitely get you when I find a way to continue my life plan!"

"... Alright..."

"I love you so much!"

Y/N doesn't respond, but he carefully eyes the harsh bite mark that was now on his wrist.

This was probably a bad idea. After all, how was he going to explain this to his mom?

Honestly, he didn't mind.

...

"Are you sure you're okay with being left at home?" His mother asks, placing her luggage in the van as her husband gets the car started.

"Yeah, I'll be fine." Was all he said smiling at his mom as she came over to hug him.

"If you start to feel scared or depressed please call me before you do anything."

"Mom, I think I'm fine, it's been like three years since I last tried anything like that."

"I know but still, that shouldn't even be a last resort okay?"

"Alright mom, now stop worrying about me and enjoy your honeymoon!"

The mom gives him a quick hug again before entering the car. The husband just waved at the boy since they still weren't on the best of terms, but it was good enough that they were cordial with one another.

The boy waves the car away as they drive off, and as soon as the car is out of view, he walks right back into the house.

He yawns, happy that he had the house to himself. Until he didn't of course.

"HI!"

"JEEZ! WHAT THE HELL?!" Y/N jumps, dropping the bagel he grabbed from the counter onto the floor before groaning. It was the girl, Himiko Toga. It had been about a month since she had kidnapped him before taking him back home and she literally found every spare minute to invade his privacy when his mom and step dad weren't around.

"... Oh... Hello."

"How are you doing handsome?!" Toga yells, quickly hugging Y/N from behind before jumping onto the counter to sit down in front of him.

"Just fine... How'd you even get in the house?"

"I broke through your window."

"... Did you break the window?"

"No silly, I just popped the screen open and then unlocked the latch before popping the screen closed once I got in!"

Y/N groans a bit, scratching his hair before handing her a new bagel and picking up the one he dropped on the floor. He could just eat it off the floor, it's not like the floor was dirty since he helped his mom clean the entire house yesterday.

Was he still going to eat it? No, he wanted to die but he didn't want to contract a disease while he was at it.

"Guess what!?"

"What?"

"I found someone who'll help me get into the league of villains! You should come with me tonight! Oh! I also drew a picture of you and me!" Toga excitedly yells before jumping off of the countertop and rushing upstairs.

"Um... Alright." Y/N mumbled before yawning and grabbing another bagel to eat. It was only about a few seconds that she came rushing back down with her small but cute cat backpack unfortunately covered in small amounts of someone's blood.

"Here, look!"

Y/N looked at it for two good seconds as he tried to comprehend what the hell he was seeing. As surprisingly good as her drawings were, why did it have to be him like that?

He had to refrain from pushing the sketch book out of his face. First off, what type of memory did this bitch have that she could draw him from scratch. Secondly, this was the most non safe for work thing that he's ever seen, he's not used to this shit because he's only watched porn once and it was by accident.

"It's..." Y/N looked at the giddy girl, mentally applauding her courage in showing him this with a straight face, as if it wasn't basically fan art sex.

"It's nice."

"You really think so?!"

"Yeah."

Toga starts kicking her feet, content that Y/N liked the picture she drew. So she just watched him for most of the day and she doesn't even know why he keeps her around. After all, she could try to kill him when he wasn't looking... Oh wait, he wanted to die.

Toga sighs before looking up at the ceiling in boredom. She was excited to bring Y/N with her to the league but she was a bit worried that they wouldn't take him nor would he technically be a villain anyway. Would he be willing to kill someone if they made him?

"So, before we go to see if you can get into the league, we should go to the store and buy you a really cool villain outfit, something that's cute but also screams badass-"

Y/N chuckled at her as she kept rambling about clothing items. Honestly he didn't care, as long as at some point he died. Maybe that was a bit too far to think but he really was tired, he barely had the energy to get up in the morning and brush his teeth and that was every single morning.

"Alright."

"So what style of clothes do you like?"

"Um... Surprise me, I don't really mind."

"You seem indecisive."

"Well I am."

"About the whole league of villains thing?"

"Yeah."

"Don't you want to be a villain?"

"No... No, not really." He shook his head, being fully serious about it. However it wasn't like he wouldn't try it. I mean, he literally had nothing to lose besides him mom and his life, and his mom was very capable of protecting herself.

"... Well do you want to be with me?!"

"... I mean... No... You're kinda crazy."

Toga just huffed, crossing her hands in front of herself whilst pouting. Y/N walked off into the living room, noting that Toga grabbed a knife and tried to stab his shoulder before he activated his quirk.

Why was she like this? She must have actually been bipolar or something.

"I don't know why you keep wanting to stab me at the most inconvenient times." He mumbled, barely paying attention to her once again distraught figure on the floor before he just sighed and turned off his quirk.

"Hey, you're okay." Was all he said, gently patting her head before looking at the time.

This made him think of why he couldn't have just left his quirk out of a situation like this? He could have died that way, he could have been killed and missed that opportunity because of his reflexes.

Whatever, he'd die eventually.

Toga didn't say anything as she stood up, just slowly hugged Y/N again since she didn't really care about whether or not he used his quirk on her. Y/N hugged her back before letting go just to let her know that he wasn't mad at her. Sure the quirk was annoying but she knew all too well that he was too sweet to truly harm anyone.

"So... Will you come with me tonight?"

"... Sure, why not?"

"Thank you! Thank you so much Y/N-kun! I love you, I love you!"

"... Okay..."

...

"What do you mean I need a body count?" Y/N questioned the supposed villian broker named Giran, grimacing at the man in front of him. There was no way this man was actually going to let him in The League of Villains at all if he hadn't killed people yet?

Sounds biased.

"Well I guess we can forget that for now but have you killed anybody at all? What's your quirk? Abilities? You got any props to show us? Anything at all that could determine that you'll be a good addition to the league?"

He couldn't even answer the question at first, almost all of his attention was being taken by the barbequed man standing on the side. Why did he genuinely seem like he was tweaking out? He was probably not a normal human to begin with, he must have been born into this villain trade. This had to be some bloodline Taugarian stuff.

"After all, I have good business with the league and I wouldn't want to ruin it."

"... Why didn't you tell me? I would have prepared a bit better." He grumbled, glaring at Toga when he turned her direction.

"Well the union already said I was a good pick! Sorry, I didn't think about it even when I said that I'd bring you!"

Y/N just sighed when Toga hugged onto his arm, quietly eyeing the burnt guy that kinda had some sass with his stance. Clearly he was impatient and didn't want to wait for this.

"Well... I haven't actually killed anyone yet, except for my dad. I hit him with a bat when I was younger and he died of blood loss, but I don't think that really counts since it was an accident." He starts, already cringing at how strange his own voice sounded.

This was annoying and embarrassing.

"My quirk is emotion, I can control people's emotions basically... But I don't really have a prop to show-"

"Oh! Me! Me! You can use me! You wanna use me?!" Toga yells really quick, jumping in front of him all excited like.

"The hell?" The burnt guy asks, almost wanting to gag. He didn't really like this crazy lovesick girl and it would be really annoying if he had to be in a villain group with her. He didn't know much about the boy, except that he was most definitely a rookie who probably just wanted attention.

He'd just burn them later if they annoyed him too much.

"Um... How bout no?" Y/N starts, gently grabbing her by the shoulders and moving her to the side of him instead of in front.

"We gotta go soon so when you're done talking with the crazy one and attention hogging dude, can you let me know? I'm already tired of this." The burnt guy scoffs when he gets a finger pointed his way by the guy, so he just decided that he was ready to leave until he was stopped.

He may or may not have had a sudden heart attack by the alleyway door but for some reason he couldn't move and he didn't like it one damn bit.

Why did he suddenly feel like he was absolutely worthless? He felt useless in so many ways and it was one of the most painful things in the world. All his trauma just threw up at him all at once.

"That's rude y'know? You should respect the guy when you're the one taking up his time." Y/N scolded, moving his index finger up in the air which caused the guy to just start crying.

He just cried, it actually made Y/N kind of nervous since it seemed like more than just his quirk. It sounded so broken, he would rather hear someone scream than sob the way this guy was weeping.

"That is so cool Y/N! What emotion are you using now?!" Toga asks.

"Sadness." He replies, his eyes still on the grown man. He only just now noticed that him crying had actually opened up the burn wounds around his mouth and eyes.

"Basically I overwhelm the brain with the chemical that causes a particular emotion before forcing it onto the body." Y/N explains to the guy, turning off his quirk so that the burnt guy can breathe.

"... That's... Scary actually and it's perfect, Even though the union didn't pick you, you'd be a great helper for what the league of villains needs. The dude you just messed is named Dabi, You're in."

"Oh My Gosh Y/N-kun! Do you know what this means?! You and I are going to be hero killers! Just like Mr. Stainy! Oh man! I love you so much!"

"... Cool... Thanks... Hey um, Dabi right? Sorry about that-"

"Shut the hell up." Dabi growls, standing up and holding one of the burn marks closed right under his eye. He didn't even bother wiping the tears away because it wasn't gonna do him any good. He was already embarrassed, and this dumb ass kid scared him.

If he could dominate and control an emotion that quick and that effective with almost no drawback, what the hell would be able to stop him?

"Yeah... I-I kinda deserve that, I'll shut up, that's fair I guess."

...

"Shigaraki! Your league of villains has been the talk of the town this last several days." Giran comments as he opens the door to an abandoned bar. This seemed like a really terribly way to start a conversation if you ask Y/N.

"Word on the street says you're about to start something big-"

"And? Who did you bring?"

Rude. All Giran does about it is chuckle before waving the three of them inside. Toga almost squeals, hugging onto Y/N's arm before letting go and walking in. This was most likely a bad idea.

As soon as Y/N enters he knows this is an annoyingly bad idea. This dude with the hand for a mask was the leader of this whole thing? He looked like a skeleton, when was the last time this man ate?

"So it's really you huh? I've seen you in pictures but i gotta say, you're way grosser in person." Dabi starts, tilting his head to the side.

"Wow it's the weird hand guy! You're friends with my hero stain right? Cool, let us join the league, we wanna be in your group!" Toga yells, blushing as she once again grabs a hold of Y/N's arm

"... Kurogiri, get rid of these three, I can already tell their exactly the kind of trash I hate. A girly brat, some weak mute boy and a guy with no manners." The man named Shigaraki, pointing his finger at them.

"I'm not mute." Y/N chuckles, almost using his quirk on the man just because of his bluntness. It was pissing him off more than he'd like to admit.

"Now, now Tomura Shigaraki, They came all this way. The least we could do is here them out, give them a chance. Besides, this broker is respected in the underworld, they're bound to be valuable assets." The weird purple smoke guy called Kurogiri states.

He kinda reminded Y/N of that fire bartender in the Undertale game.

"Like em or not, you still owe me a finders fee in cash. I suppose I could introduce the three of them before I go." Giran mentioned.

"This one looks like an adorable high school girl right? But she's actually the suspect in a series of deaths where the victims all bled out. So far her name and face have been kept out of the media."

Danm, Y/N almost forgot just how dangerous she was and what she was guilty of.

"Toga, Himiko Toga! Life is too hard and I just want to make it easier to live in this dumb world. I want to be Mr. Stainy! I wanna kill Mr. Stainy! Oh c'mon Mr. Handy man please let me join your league of villains!" She greets herself, letting everyone in the room know just how crazy she was.

"You gotta be kidding me, is she crazy?"

"Well she can hold a conversation, for the most part at least. C'mon, she can be useful."

"Yeah, in fact I was gonna be her next victim before she asked me to come here." Y/N answers, looking at Shigaraki with a very serious expression.

"... What?" Shigiraki looked at the boy and he almost took his hand mask off in surprise. He honestly would have expected that the kid wanted to be here with how calm and blunt he was.

"It's a long story... Well not really but it's not relevant to the topic right now."

"And this guy," Giran adds, pointing his cigarette towards Dabi. " hasn't committed any flashy crimes but he's taken stains ideology to heart."

"I don't like this, is your group really dedicated to the hero killers mission? I can't imagine you are if you're going to let this little psycho join." Dabi grunts when he refers to Toga.

"Grow up, at least she can introduce herself." Y/N grumbles, already realizing that him and this Dabi were probably not gonna get along all that well.

"Yeah, I actually agree with him. She may be a psycho but she can actually talk to people." Shigiraki comments, waving his hand in the general direction of Y/N and Toga. "Don't just stare, what's your name?"

"Right now I'm going by Dabi."

"No I want to know your real name."

"I'll tell you when you need to know it, in any case, my new purpose is to carry out the hero killers will."

"That wasn't what I asked you, patchwork. Jeez why's everyone so hung up over Stain."

"Okay I'm not that smart, " Y/N starts, hoping to understand something about all of this. "but why the hell do we need to carry out the hero killers wish when he's not dead? Isn't he just in prison? We should have our own wish if it's our group right? Not live off the back of someone else's wish, or am I missing something here-"

"Shut up." Shigiraki growls as he stands up.

"It's all I ever hear about, every, damn, day. It's really pissing me off!"

"No, don't do it!" Kurogiri yells.

The hell was he doing?

"WE'LL KEEP THE BOY, THE TWO OF YOU ARE DONE!" Shigaraki yells, throwing his hands in their direction. Dabi does the same in Shigaraki's direction.

Y/N pulls Toga back before she can do anything or get hurt, but not before grabbing her knife to possibly stab the dude's hand. Y/N hasn't killed anyone but that doesn't mean that he doesn't know how to fight.

Before anybody's attacks land anywhere, Y/N watches as purple smoke engulfs their hands before they are placed somewhere else in the room. It was like a portal of sorts.

"Please calm yourself Tomura Shigaraki."

Why does this dude keep stating his first and last name like it was some title?

"If your desire is to be realized then we must increase our numbers,"

Y/N sighs, not paying anymore attention to the conversation before taking out his hand along with the knife. He hands the knife to Toga who felt it was right to suddenly Koala hold his back.

"I'm outta here."

Y/N moves himself out of the way of the pissed off leader of the league of villains. He's not sure how he feels about him, maybe it's not all that bad but he didn't really like how that ended.

"Where are you off too?"

"Shut up."

"I try to make it a point not to complain about my clients but he's too young and far too immature." Giran sighs.

"Really thought he was gonna kill us from a sec!" Toga gushes before jumping off of Y/N's back.

"Yeah, he looks like he needs to be in a psych ward like you Toga." Y/N added on, ignoring the surprisingly weak punch Toga gave to his shoulder.

"That guy makes me want to vomit."

"I've only known you for like thirty minutes and I think I can tell that everything makes you wanna throw up."

"What'd you say?"

"I said-" Y/N starts, ready to repeat himself again.

"Shut up! No one asked you anyway!"

"Okay patchwork."

"What?!"

"I said okay patchwork, I'mma keep calling you that too."

"I hope you drown!"

"I was hoping for that a long time ago dude."

...

"I can't believe we're actually in the league! Oh my gosh this is gonna be so cool! I can't wait! And it'll be even better with you Y/N-kun!" Toga yells, blushing to herself as the both of them sat on top of a building.

"How high do you think I'd have to jump to crack my skull?"

"... What?"

Y/N turns to Toga only to be graced with a small smile concealing her worried expression.

"... Oh sorry, I wasn't trying to scare you."

"No, you didn't scare me... I just... I think it's about two stores high."

That was the first time anyone had answered him a question like that before, and of course it had to be the crazy blood stealing girl.

"Alright."

"..."

"Hey... Y/N-kun?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you call me Himiko?"

"... Why?" Y/N inquired, wondering if he was being caught in some strange trap by her again.

"Well because I love you and it's just that I don't want to see you die yet. I want to be there for you like you were there for me before and I want you to love me too."

"Um... I was never there for you though-"

"Yes you were! You were always there, someone that was always consistently in my life!"

"... Is that because you were stalking me?"

"I wouldn't call it stalking, I'd call it a romantic walk that you didn't know you were doing with me!"

"Oh... Alright." Y/N sighed slightly, letting you ye girl hug him as he looked down at the people below. Everyone was just walking around, trying to get the last of what they needed so that they didn't have to stay out too late.

None of these people would be prepared for something like the league of villains... So why was he partaking in this? He was one of these citizens, one of these people.

"Do you love me Y/N-kun?"

Y/N briefly turned to look at Toga once again, her sick and flustered smile looking right back at him.

"... No... I don't love you Himiko."

Toga nodded her head, accepting the answer for what it was before looking up at the sky. The stars were very pretty when there weren't many lights.

Y/N though for a bit more about this whole thing, not sure why he was agreeing to this. Sure he didn't value his life all that much but he had family, he had people that cared about him, and he had people he cared about.

But there was something about this that made him feel excited and energetic about it all. He can't remember the last time he felt so much thrill being near a person that could kill him.

It was always him that was trying to kill himself, not someone trying to kill him. No one had ever tried to kill him before.

It was exhilarating.

Heck, the guy wasn't even really trying to kill him, he was trying to kill Dabi and Toga and yet he had pulled her out of the way to protect her. It seemed like he'd really enjoy being a villain but at the same time, he could be a pretty good hero.

He must have been a villain or a hero in his past life because even with that sudden stress he felt so calm, like nothing had even occurred and he wasn't bored like he had nothing to do either.

If this villain thing didn't work, he would try to transfer into a hero school like UA or something like that, though that was setting the bar higher, it was something.

He actually didn't feel like killing himself right now.

"Hey.... Himiko?"

She didn't respond and when Y/N looked at her, she was asleep, resting her head against his shoulder.

"I don't love you... But I think I like you, I'd like to be a villain as long as you're there." He mumbled, gently placing his hand on top of her head.

How did he even let an evil and crazy yandere girl swoon him into joining her in a group of other evil people?

He's not sure but at the moment, he doesn't mind. He'll figure out the details later.

Wow, he's actually feeling pretty okay right now.

#character x reader #possible spoilers #character x you #i hope you enjoy #on a whim #oneshot #male #male reader #mha #bnha #bnha x reader #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha x reader #toga himiko #himiko toga #the league of villains #toga x reader

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yanderes-galore · 10 months ago

Note

Michael Myers yandere alphabet please!?

I don't think there's many changes from the DBD one, but I'll do my best!

Yandere Alphabet - Michael Myers

Pairing: Romantic/Platonic (Unclear)

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Stalking, Violence, Murder/Death, Blood, Possessive behavior, Kidnapping, Isolation, Marking with a knife, Forced companionship.

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Michael is someone who would stay out of his obsession's sight for a long time. He is also shown to fixate on one target for long periods of time. His obsession is observing you, staying out of sight yet causing you anxiety.

Most of his obsession is the stalker stage. When he actually gets his hands on you his "affection" is rough. He is a yandere who seems more docile until he actually closes in on you... then he's intense.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

Being a slasher and called literal "evil", safe to say he thrives off the mess he makes. He shows little emotion in general, especially towards blood and corpses.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

Michael is silent yet imposing once he takes you in. He makes no sound but it's clear he wants you to stay where he's put you. He doesn't mock... he doesn't say much of anything, really.

He just likes to stare at you... the only thing you hear is his breathing through the mask.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

If he feels you're going to try and avoid him, yes.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

Not vulnerable and hard to read. Michael doesn't let you know anything about his intentions. Not being able to read him keeps you on edge.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

Silent and stoic as usual, you can't tell. What you do know is he is at least annoyed due to his attempts to restrain you.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

Hard to tell but I'd say no and he seems annoyed if you try to leave.

You're trying your luck.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

With Michael there can be a lot. I'd say him killing your loved ones or even being rough with you to try and make you more docile.

Isolating you after the trauma that comes with getting rid of your loved ones is probably the worst.

Nothing specific comes to mind for him, he just feels he wants you... so that's that.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

Hard to tell but he lashes out anyways, which makes it hard to tell if he's jealous or not.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

He's not a fluffy type of affectionate, he's rough and intimidating. While he mainly stalks you, if he's up close his "adoration" comes off as violent. I doubt he knows how to show genuine affection.

I've stated before that he'd be fascinated if you had hair, to the point of tearing some out to keep it. He keeps all sorts of belongings that remind him of you.

He isn't empathetic and just knows to take what he wants.

Which ends up in some pain for you... on purpose or not.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

Would start by stalking you. He watches your routine for possibly even months before he approaches. He takes things from you to soothe his obsession.

That is until it all builds up... leaving him desperate for more...

Right until he takes you away.

Not really. His mercy isn't even entirely mercy.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

I imagine Michael would do some cruel things to punish. What comes to mind is cutting your skin ever so slightly. Enough to learn your lesson... but not enough to kill.

Cruel, but he's done worse...

He could do so much worse.

Most if not all of them.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

Very patient.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

Hard to tell... but it seems like yes or he just doesn't let people know.

He will get volatile if anyone brings you up... so I guess that's a hint.

No and no.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

Hard to say, upbringing?

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

He leaves you alone for the most part, maybe feels a bit irritated but gives you your space.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

I'm just not going to answer this question as the answer is most likely yes when it comes to my work

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

Signaling help or trying to incapacitate him. Good luck, you'll need it.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

Yes, unfortunately.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

Not a worship yandere but would slaughter any who try to take you.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

Months, maybe even years.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

Yes.

#yandere slashers #yandere slasher #yandere michael myers

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hermesserpent-stuff · 3 months ago

Text

soooooo void!remy meeting the x men and being freaked is a love of mine. and him mistaking kurt for a weird vamp due to void things lol.

based on convos with @golden-buddle

tw: human trafficking, violence, child abuse

Remy clicks his tongue, fighting the urge to hiss and show off his teeth. He has to keep his poker face on. He had been working his way into gambling dens, digging down deeper and deeper, and now he has entered one of the darkest vilest gambling dens in the city. They dealt in things beyond the chump change of the rings that Remy preferred. No, this one deals in people. And not just people, but with a particular eye for vamps, mutants, and the young of both.

He hates it. And the arch vampires of the city hate it. They had hired Blade to help them out clear out some of these dens of depravity. Which means Remy hunts them down and gets in and Blade and the rest come a knocking.

Remy feels like his skin is itching as the proprietor of the establishment escorts Remy’s little group past the cages. Remy slips charged bits of paper into as many locks as he can. A little jolt and they would explode. He does not plan on things lasting long enough for him to actually to sit down and play a game of poker. He tenses as one of his many many explosions goes off. Well now. It seems someone tried rattling a cage.

He hears the howl of Wolverine and the snikt of his claws coming into play as the sound of Deadpools endless pool of chatter springs.forth. Remy is ready to join in the chaos of the fight when he notices a little mutant girl being dragged down the stares through a door he thought was a wall. He makes a beeline for it, pulling out his favored bo staff to hit and explode any who tried to oppose him.

The door leads to winding stairs that go deeper and deeper. He doggedly follows as the men take note that they have a prayer and start trying to do things that might slow him down. The little girl yowls and struggle, Remy spotting her fuzzy cat ears and tail as she struggles. One of the men hits her head and something in Remy snaps. He chucks a card forward, exploding the man's arm off. Then a silver knife finishes the job, lighting the vampire up. He dispatches the other two with similar explosions lighting up the ill-lit room that surrounds them. He pants and the little girl stares as she sits on the floor.

Remy pulls himself together and lowers himself to the floor.

“Hey mom petit. I'm not here to hurt.”

She sniffs the air. Probably has abilities similar to Logan's in the smell department.

“You smell like cat.”

She whispers and Remy smiles with no teeth.

“Sure do. Got a princess at home named Beignet. She's the sweetest fluffiest drop of midnight to come into my life. I would never hurt her. Or you.”

The girl seems to trust this, launching herself forward and burying her face in his neck.

“I don't want to hurt anymore. I always hurt.”

She begs and he gently pets her hair crooning lightly.

“Then Remy promises he gonna get you out. You got a name, mon petit?”

She noses his neck, sniffing and holding tighter.

“They… they took it. Said I wasn't allowed to name myself. They called me Kitten.”

He wants to rip the world apart. Kill those men again and again. Names were important. Knowing his name was his helped keep him sane in the horridness of the void.

“I don't wanna call you something they made you take. What do you like to be called?”

She pauses, her little nails growing out into tiny claws that are sharp through his shirt. But not a threat. She is just scared.

“My momma called me Eleanor.”

He hums at the name.

“Alright. That's a pretty name, cher. Eleanor. I'm Remy.”

He gently pets her hair, and she noses his throat. He stands up with a playing card slotted into his free hand. She presses close, a light purr there as he spins and starts make his back to the stairs.

A man jumps out the block his path and Remy throws his charged card. He slides to the side as the man spits insults and tries to grab at the girl. She whimpers and presses closer into his chest, little pinpricks of blood coming out. He fires off another card and leaps up the stairs and around the man. He kicks his head and throws another charged card, blowing up his chest. Another man bursts into the stairwell and knocks him down. Remy keeps a tight grip on the little girl, determined to not let her down. He throws three cards at the staircase. But the guy dodges the cards and fires at Remy with a gun. Remy ducks down and throws a few more cards, hissing loudly as he shifts backwards away from the guy. His charged cards light up bright pink against the darkness, little flares of hope that explode in a ver familiar way. He gets a good shot on the man’s chest and he blows up.

Once more he tries to get to the stairs. Eyes flash in the darkness ahead of him and the smell of sulfur reaches his nose. Remy freezes, arms tight around the child that clings so fiercely to his chest, her cat ears pinned back at all the sound. In front of him stands a demon- or some sort of vamp? Either way, he does not know their allegiance and his throat fights down a sob of weariness. He just needs to finish breaking free of this hell, to meet up with Blade and Wolverine who he can hear ripping the place a few floors overhead.

The blue vampire steps forward and Remy pulls out a cross and chucks it and hisses long and loud, showing off his teeth and stepping backwards. He is scared, so scared. The thing grips the cross, mouth opening slightly to say something right before the wood explodes. Remy’s feet are already moving when he hears a poof intermixed with the sound of an explosion. He skids to a stop at the sight of the vamp popping out in front of him.

“Hey, hey. Beruhige dich. Calm. We are on the same team. No need to disrespect the cross.”

The guy's hands go up showing three phalanges instead of the normal five. Remy hisses stepping back. This guy is fast. Too fast. Remy is too slow while carrying someone else, but he is not going to put her down. She whimpers and he gently pats her.

“It's okay Eleanor.”

He whispers, hand pulling out another weapon, a gun full of silver hollow points filled with garlic. The blue vamp loosens his posture, crouching down and curling his tail close. Tail? Maybe a really weird vampire.

“I dunno what game you be playin’ vamp, but if’n you be with the guys upstairs, we gonna have an issue real quick.”

Remy bites out, terror nipping at him. He was not supposed to be so far from the others. But he had been drawn in deeper at the chance of helping a child.

“Ah, mein Freund. Breath. I am not a vampire. I am like you and her. Mutant. Im here with some friends of mine. To help.”

A mutant? That… that actually makes more sense. That or the guy is a straight up demon. The little girl peeks out, arms still tight around Remy.

“I see. Your group helps mutants… X-men?”

He knows the name from Wade’s friends who come around occasionally that he and Logan avoid. The girl would be safe with them. He would really like to avoid Charles Xavier, not needing to meet another terrifying telepath, no matter how sweet other mutants seemed on the guy. Logan is probably avoiding them for a different reason.

“Ja! You know us!! We're the good guys!”

The guy cheers, tail swinging in presumable delight. The little girl’s eyes follow the tail, her own responding a little.

“Mmph. Remy will be believin’ he be seein’.”

“Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed. But we’ll make an exception for you, herr und frau. Now! Let the fuzzy elf help you out!”

The guy winks at the girl flicking his tail through the air and grinning. She lets out an amused sound and Remy finds himself relaxing.

“I'm Nightcrawler. And I can teleport. Let me port us out of here. Ja?”

Remy considers it, tucking his teeth away. He looks down at the little girl, who he does not want to scare more.

“What do we say cher? Do we trust a fuzzy elf?”

She sniffs the air and presses a little tighter into Remy.

“Uh-huh. Yess.”

She whispered, hissing the last syllable. He pats her head and nods.

“Alright. Get us out. To somewhere safe.”

Remy steps towards the mutant and Nightcrawler grips them both gently. Remy flinches at the poof noise and forces his eyes back open as the scent of sulfur hits his nose. He sees that they are right outside the doors of the gambling ring. He spots one of the vampire workers bolting out and Remy presses the little girl close, shielding her eyes and ears as he fires. The vampire lights up and explodes and Nightcrawler freezes.

“You just-!”

“Don't feel bad. Bloodsucker was helpin’ hurt children. This weapon does not blow up normal folks. Just hurts like the devil.”

He hisses and then snaps his head to the side. Blade is there, sword wet with blood. Remy whistles, knowing that the vamp will be able to notice it even with the battle going on. Remy also notes that there are other people who are wearing outfits that have some shared designs. Remy keeps the girl on his hip and aims, firing to keep people away. Blade gets to his side and sniffs for wounds.

“Blood?”

Blade growls and Remy laughs.

“Aw, don't worry about Remy none! This sweet gal accidentally clawed me through my shirt.”

Eleanor makes a soft noise and he shushes her.

“And you shouldn't worry either, petit. I don't mind being clawed accidentally by you, cher.”

He gently pets her head and looks to Blade. Blade scrunches his nose.

“We’re almost done cleaning it out. Cops are coming and these X-men are helping get the mutants somewhere safer. And some vamps are collecting the fledglings.”

Remy slowly nods. Good. everyone was being taken care of. A few stragglers try to escape but he and Blade make sure they do not escape. Nightcrawler helps keep people from sneaking up on Remy and Remy keeps anyone from being able to touch the blue fur ball. Remy ends up sitting on a half wall next to the entrance. Eleanor is currently eating some of the Rolo’s that Remy had in his pocket, pressed against his chest with her legs tucked up against him. She seems to enjoy the caramel and chocolate, tugging on Remy’s sleeve to get more. He happily gives her more. Blade sits him on his left and Nightcrawler sits to his right.

Nightcrawler speaks softly to him.

“The institute is a very safe place for mutants. She can learn there without people discriminating against her.”

Remy smoothes her hair down. He feels a little tense at the idea of just handing her over. She curls a little tighter into Remy while staring at Nightcrawler.

“That'll be up to Eleanor. Watchu think? Remy’s happy to help you, but he's no good a teachin’.”

“But… what about you?”

She whispers, claws digging down into his shirt. He croons softly to her.

“I'll be okay.”

“He can come visit. I’ll give him the address and everything!”

Remy looks at Nightcrawler who looks genuine.

“You'll help her?”

“All the best medicine and teaching. And protection. Xaivers is safe.”

He knows they are headed by the person who is the brother to Cassandra. It makes him nervous about going anywhere near.

“Will you visit Remy?”

She asks, hope in her voice.

“I-... I'll come, cher. Remy will come and visit. Keep an eye out for me on the edges petit.”

“Or you could come too.”

“I got a place already.”

He says with a shake of his head and scooches closer to Blade who hums pleasantly. Nightcrawler looks like he understands. Maybe. He presses a playing card gently into Eleanor’s hands and kisses her forehead before she goes with Nightcrawler. Blade gently rubs his nape with a firm hand and Remy leans into with a croon.

#hermes speaks #void remy lebeau #remy lebeau #void gambit #gambit #a wolverine finds a spider #nightcrawler #deadpool and wolverine

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thedelusionreaderbitch · 1 year ago

Text

Poly! Kanej x gn! Reader - Always Darkness (PRIDE 2023)

A/n: Happy pride everyone! Enjoy the 3rd installment to the fics of pride 2023 with this poly fic!

Summary: After being captured during a job, you attempt to down play the effects it had on you.

Warnings: this was written a while ago, physiological torture, torture, haphephobia, temperature changes, claustrophobia, panic attacks, questionable sanity at certain points, mild violence, swearing, hallucinations, asylums, straight jacket, suicidal thoughts, ptsd, trauma, mild blood, this is a heavy one guys, I think that's it? You have been warned!

The 3 P's:

[Pronouns used: you/your] [Pov: 2nd person] [Pairings: romantic! kanej x reader, (mentioned, platonic!) crows x reader]

It was cold, it was dark, and it was wet.

Yet it was so warm it felt like your feet were frying off but at the same time, it felt like they were numb. The room was dark only that, never changed, it was always dark. The light could never reach in here, not even a sun summoner would be able to summon anything in that cell. It was damp, but maybe that was because of the blood pooling around you as everything else was dry.

Laying on your back you look up, your eyes widen and you barely blink five times a minute. The heat in the room is unbearable to you, so you try to sift your body, to relive some of it. Then all the heat leaves your cell, room, home? You weren't sure anymore, but it was suddenly cold, so cold.

The room starts to spin and all you used to be able to see was darkness, but now you see different worlds and universes! The rational part of your brain knows it's not real, but the part that slowly submits to the mental pain and stress of everything starts to convince you otherwise. The only thing that keeps you grounded is

Them.

Then everything is falling and you don't know if you're screaming because you can't hear anything, and you can't flail your arms to wave around because you're stuck in some sort of jacket. A straight jacket you think is what Kaz called it, he said it was for the crazies.

But you weren't crazy! Yet why else would you be in one then? Maybe you were insane...

Oh, right the mission. You weren't crazy, you weren't crazy, you weren't crazy! You were just locked up because you fucked up on a job. Maybe you deserved to be in here then.

Then you were back to getting up and to hitting the walls. Perhaps to feel something, to have control, but you couldn't kill yourself on them no matter how hard you tried.

So you screamed, cried, and yelled. Eventually, you started babbling on about other things that made no sense entirely.

Or at least you thought you made a noise. You couldn't tell, because what really is reality?

You sit up from your bed preparing to kill someone.

The knife that is usually underneath your pillow is in your hand at all times now after that one job. Always ready to strike.

"Fuck." You mutter as your head falls into your hands as tears well up in your eyes. Again.

You thought after two weeks out of that asylum you would be over all the nightmares, but you weren't over anything. You couldn't have anyone touch you unless they made it very clear what they were doing, you couldn't sleep in complete darkness. Hell, you didn't even like going in a dark space anymore. Oh, there's more. The constant flashbacks, and the extreme claustrophobia, not being able to have your hands wounded together. The feeling that complete silence gives you. Always, always, having to remind yourself that you're not going crazy, it was just the lack of sleep, or the partially non-existent sleep.

All of that could be summed up into one word PTSD! But if you wanted to be even simpler the word would be trauma.

Nobody really knew how bad it affected you either, Nina did because you had to tell someone but other than that you just didn't tell anyone. You didn't want Kaz or Inej to take you off jobs so you downplayed what happened and told them it wasn't a real asylum really.

Probably you would never tell your boyfriend or girlfriend, they had their own problems to deal with.

The tears don't fall down your face, but they are pretty damn close as you stand up to take a walk... Somewhere.

Walking out of the safety of your room you don't know where you're going, all you know is that you have one goal in mind: Away.

You find yourself outside of Kaz's office door. The last place you wanted to be, but maybe the place you needed to be. Your hand grip's the doorknob as you close your eyes and try and come up with some sort of excuse so you could be close to your lovers.

You could hear their voices talking and scheming together about the next heists and jobs. It brought a smile to your face, and instead of opening the door your hand slips off the door handle and you slide down to the floor. The wall next to the door was cold, and incredibly wet.

"Subject number one." Your head snaps up to where you heard the voice from. You've haven't heard a real voice in what seemed like years, centuries even. But instead of seeing a real live person all you can see through the darkness is a blurry speaker and the one way glass.

"Stand up please."

You don't stand up, rather you do the exact opposite as you start rolling around the room muttering random things. Perhaps you really had gone insane, or maybe you were just defiant.

"You see now that subject number one is clinically insane. Tested by the royal ravkan grishas themselves!"

Ha! No one had tested you! They had just put you in here as a form of punishment for getting caught stealing... What was it again? Silly you, you must have forgotten!

So then how much time would it be until you would forget them?

"So now we're going to do the cold test. It's where we'll turn the temperature down drastically to see what a clinically insane person would do!"

And then suddenly everything was cold - so cold.

"No, no, no, no no..." You mutter as your knees come up to your chest as it starts heaving.

Fuck, a panic attack.

"Please stop, don't touch me!" You blubber, tears filling your eyes as you start to rock back and forward.

"Please make it stop! Make it stop!" You cry.

You hear some foot steps and you assumed the door to Kaz's office opened, but you couldn't really comprehend everything properly because you were trying to keep yourself from spiraling further.

"Y/n!" You hear Inej's voice call out to you but the other voices are just too strong, filling up your mind with vicious attacks, and daggers killing off the very little of your will left. You didn't even notice the blurry figures crouching in front of you.

Forget. Everything will be easier.

Maybe you are really a freak.

You fucked up, you deserve to be here.

You almost killed your lovers, what kind of sick monster would do that?

You. Are. Insane.

Insane, insane, insane!

"Breath L/n." Kaz places an ungloved hand on your shoulder.

"Don't touch me!" You push him backwards suddenly standing up and you start sprinting towards the steps.

"Y/n! Wait!" Inej takes hold of your wrist and her skin on your reminds you of touch too much. Too much pain.

Crack!

A crisp and cold crack was heard throughout the Slat as you snapped Inej's wrist. She screams in pain and Kaz catches up to you both, worried, and beyond terrified at what is playing out in front of him.

"I said don't touch me!" You sob, and once again your knees give out underneath you as you collapse with sobs clogging your throat on the floor.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry..." You whisper brokenly, the last bits of your mind coming back to you.

Inej and Kaz look down on you as Inej cradles her wrist in her hand and it finally gets to her.

"That was a real asylum wasn't it?"

And at the those words you sob harder as you nod because no words would be coming out of your mouth.

"Oh, saints Y/n." Kaz's voice comes over and calms you a bit, better than it did before anyways.

"We should have never have left you there."

With tremendous effort, Kaz crouched down beside you but he didn't come any closer. His hands are gloved now, so when he reaches out to brush a finger across your cheek you don't feel anything. Only the worry and love coming from Dirtyhands himself, he barely even touched you though. But maybe that was the point.

"Is this okay?" He questions, his hand dropping.

All you do is nod, you aren't in the right state of mind to be forming coherent words, the lack of sleep certainly wasn't helping.

Inej, probably from her standpoint, could see this and made eye contact with Brekker to see what they were going to do.

"You'll get them to the bed in your office. Unless you want me too, and that's fine I'll just have to wearing some gloves and some more clothes." Inej says - well you think she says that because every things starting to get really woozy, and the begins world spinning.

"Inej, Kaz." You whisper the words finally forming in your mouth bringing their attention to you right before you slip into unconsciousness.

"Help!" You scream. "Help!"

"No one can help you here." The sharp, villain-like, voice comes through the speakers into your cell.

You ignore what the person said and you try and bang on the walls with your body, because you had a fucking straight jacket on.

"Help me! Please! Kaz! Inej! Help!"

The person just laughs through the speakers and it vibrates throughout the room making you stop in your tracks. Inej and Kaz had to be coming... Right?

"Even if they could come for you Y/n L/n, why would they? Who would come for someone who's insane?"

"I'm not crazy!" You holler at the one way glass, knowing there was a big chance that the person was looking at you through there.

"Maybe not yet, but-" The person pauses and their voice sends a chill up your spine.

Instantaneously, the walls on the room start moving towards you. No, no, no, no... They keep on moving and you can hear the person giggle wickedly as they keep on coming towards you. The walls are going to squish you, you were going to die here.

"No!" You shout, you couldn't die here!

Abruptly, the walls stop moving, but then the lights start to dim until it's pitch black. You feel something caging you in, it gets closer and it starts to squeeze on your body till it stops. Then, starts to move back. Wait... It must have been the walls from before.

"N-no." You manage choke out, as you start to weep.

"Please! Anyone, help!"

"You will be insane Y/n L/n. Just you wait."

Something brushes up against you and you realize that you're terrified that it could be the walls moving in on you and you would never know.

"INEJ! KAZ!" You shriek.

"Get me out! Please let me out! I'm not crazy I swear!"

"Kaz! Inej!"

"Y/n! Y/n!"

You sit up with a start, sweat dripping down your face as tears well in your eyes.

Glancing beside you, you realize it's Inej who woke you up. Her face looked mildly terrified and she looked like she was in pain.

"I didn't want to touch you, so all I could do was yell." She said brokenly shoving her face into her hands.

"I'm sorry, we left you there."

You sigh but you smile slightly at your girl.

"It's not your nor Kaz's fault, I also told basically everyone it wasn't real. Even if I was lying to you, the biggest person I was lying to was myself." You close your eyes trying to will the memories away.

As you open them you start to see Kaz starting to limp inside the room.

"We're-" He starts

"Don't finish that sentence Kaz, I know you both are." You cut him off with a small glare, today was not the day you wanted to see the bastard of the barrel apologize.

He sighs and he sits on the other end of the bed. Inej comes and sits by Kaz who she links her hands with. Then you sit up and you ghost your hand over theirs.

It wasn't okay, but it could be. One day, it wouldn't be always darkness.

Words 2050

-thedelusionreaderbitch

Grishaverse taglist: @kaqua @rika90 @thefandomplace @musical-theatre-obsessed-dumbass @gallysonegoodlung @navs-bhat @sumsebien @dontjudgeabookbythecover @brekker-zenik @alohastitch0626 @brekkers-desigirl @emmsamultifan06

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auspicioustidings · 1 year ago

Note

Can we get more about Price and rebel fighter!reader? I love them ❤️

You can get me trying my very hardest :')

Spitfire

Summary: Price's enemy is betrayed by her own soldiers and he finds he hates it.

Words: 2k

CWs: Terrorism, discussions of terrorist acts, torture (non-graphic, all happens off screen)

“Fuckin’ hell!”

How was this blasted woman so strong? She was pushing the tip of a knife down, trying to drive it into his throat, and he was barely holding her off. In his defence he had lost quite a bit of blood already in the fight, mean thing had stuck him in the leg.

It was a sick sort of rescue. What he believed was her own people dragging her off of him and cuffing her as she fought wildly. He saw a look in her he hated. The look of someone being horribly betrayed by people they loved.

He mostly expected he would meet his end here and decided he would go down at least being a bastard about it, finding some energy reserve to spring up and forward to tackle one of the men at the knees and take him down. There were too many of them and he didn't have a weapon, but he took pride knowing that he had definitely snapped something. Let's see the fucker run around playing terrorist with a ruined leg (many years later he would laugh about his line of thought as Alex Keller continued to be a menace with one leg gone below the knee).

They had him wrangled and pinned, a prisoner then. That was fine, they trained him to get himself out of captivity or at the very least to withstand it. The training failed for a moment when the crack of a backhand hit her and he could not contain his fury as he barked at them.

“Don't you fucking touch her!”

She met his eyes with furious shock before something smacked his temple and he blacked out.

Oh he felt awful. Waking up was a nauseating experience, definitely the aftereffects of a nasty concussion. Bastards.

“About time. Hope your head is fucking banging.”

She was here then. He did a quick sitrep. His leg had been wrapped, so he wasn't bleeding out. One wrist was manacled to the wall of a bare cell. All in all not a terrible situation, he was still able bodied if a little banged up and the chain was long enough to provide a pretty wide arc of movement.

She was hell to look at. She had fought, that much was clear from the black eye, swollen lip, torn clothing. The hand that wasn't manacled was mangled. It was difficult to see the full damage from where he was with her cradling it protectively in her lap so he slowly got to his feet and started towards her.

Her eyes followed him, calculating. As soon as she thought he was in range of her chain she pounced, tackling him to the ground and trying to strangle him before crying out in pain at the attempt to use her bad hand. It was easy for him to flip them, get her underneath him. She tried to grab his chain to use, probably to loop around his neck, but it was laughably easy to hold her wrists to the floor above her head with his hands and growl right in her face.

Fucking animal. Even now all she wanted was to murder him. It annoyed him how easily she was subdued in the attempt. This was far from the first scuffle he had been through with this particular terrorist, and not once had it been easy to escape with his life. She was not a creature to be broken like this.

“Will you fucking behave? You're not going to kill me with one hand, settle down and let me help.”

“Ha! Help? From one of the crowns army? What help could you give me Corporal? Your kind only knows how to harm, not to help” she spat back at him.

Christ, even now the fire in her hadn't dimmed at all. There was certainly hurt there, some new vulnerability he was unaccustomed to seeing in her, but the flame was no less bright because of it.

“You really do believe your own bullshit don't you? We're only trying to stop your lot from destroying everything in your path.”

Her derisive laugh caused a prickle of molten hot annoyance to run through him. She always treated him like this, like he was so far beneath her. He had watched her once through a sniper in her element, with her people (it was the first time he had lied to his superiors, reporting that he couldn't get a good shot). Just her playing with a child, laughing and affectionate. She had been soft in that moment before her soldiers had interrupted and she had flipped to war mode. And war for what? Change? The way she chose to go about it was wrong.

“It's not us who straps bombs to innocents.”

Her stare felt like it was burning straight through him.

“It is you who shoots those innocents you care so much about through the eyes.”

He frowned.

“What other choice is there?”

“There is always a choice. We send them asking for talks, say we will disarm them if we receive an agreement. It is always the same hypocrisy with you lot. When you make a choice to sacrifice an innocent for the greater good, it makes you a hero. When we make the same choice, it is criminal.”

He sighed in disgust and rolled off of her, both of them retreating to their own corner to sit and glower at one another. He always felt exhausted after any conversation he had with her. He was still fairly new to the army but he believed he was doing good. He believed the orders coming from the top must be well intentioned (honestly his future disdain for authority probably came from her, the mindset of one man's terrorist being another's freedom fighter certainly had).

After a spell of silence he spoke again.

“I'm a Sergeant now actually. Surprised your Intel didn't catch that.”

“It did, I just thought it would annoy you if I called you Corporal. Your kind seem very attached to these little names.”

There was a pause and then both of them were laughing. Laughing so hard it hurt. He could admit to himself that he felt a pang of horrible sadness when her laughter trailed off with a pained gasp. They had really done a number on her, he knew the pained noises of someone with cracked ribs.

“Why did they…?”

Oh fuck. The way she curled ever so slightly, tried to make herself small. This woman had never tried to make herself small for anyone. They really had betrayed her then.

“I made the mistake of thinking we were different from you.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“Tell me Corporal, are women allowed to serve beside you?”

He didn't answer because they both knew they couldn't, not in the SAS (in the future he would get rip roaring drunk in celebration when they lifted the ban on women being allowed to serve in any capacity a man could. Kate still had the voicemail he had drunkenly left her saved, finding it quite adorable to hear him talk about all the potential recruits for the SAS he had his eye on).

He had maybe been a bit surprised that she was leading this organisation, but that was surprise that the men she led were amenable, not surprise that she was capable. He had accepted it quickly, treated her with the same respect he would treat any enemy. So someone in the organisation had gotten emasculated and poisoned her men against her. What a stupid fucking way for this bright and brilliant pain in the arse of a woman to get taken out.

“Bunch of muppets.”

Another lull in the conversation.

“I do not know what they intend to do with you. I did not condone torture, but I cannot say I will be surprised if that policy has already changed.”

“Is that worry for me?”

“...I hope they take your favourite finger first.”

A half hour maybe, and then another little talk.

“You use innocents but don't condone torture?”

“One of these methods can work, the other will not.”

“We have gotten plenty of men to talk.”

“As have I Corporal, the difference being I know they speak true because they have joined me after I have treated them with dignity and care.”

“Recruitment over torture?”

“I know it pains you British soldiers to refrain from hurting your prisoners, but I assure you it is the better tactic.”

She seemed uncomfortable as that made her look her over again, take note of the ever darkening marks that had been left. He wished the rest of them thought the same suddenly, not for himself. He had trained for torture, he would get through it. He could not stand the thought of it happening to her.

He couldn't stop it. When they came to drag her out he was already beaten and sore, a few fingernails missing. He still tried, still looked at her and tried to reassure her everything would be OK.

It took a few weeks until the first time she let him touch her. Not that he would ever say it out loud because he valued his eyes, but it was like looking after a feral kitten. He had to be slow with his movements, assure her with telling her what he was doing, be quick to dodge if she took a swipe at him. He had convinced a guard to at least give them a first aid supplies if they wanted them to last, and he cleaned her up as best he could.

Another week went by and after he was tossed back into the cell she crawled over to him and repaid the favour. He called her Spitfire and she had pushed down on one of his bruises in warning. That only meant he used it more.

He wasn't sure how long it was, maybe a few months? But it was her who came to him in the night in the end. Her that curled up in his arms so they could speak in whispers, make some sort of plan for getting out alive. Only she never did move away once they stopped plotting and drifted off to sleep, opting to remain right where she was. Right where Price was rapidly realising she belonged.

It took an incredible amount of luck to have the plan work. Well technically the plan went to shit in the first stages and they had completely improvised. They should really be dead, they would be if not for the absolute divine intervention of some rookie stumbling across them and firing at their pursuers, cleverly darting from angle to angle to make it look like a full army rather than one man. The stupid skull mask helped Price supposed, freaked people out (they never told Johnny or Kyle about it because it drove them wild never being told how they had met).

She laughed and it sounded wonderful. He suspected it would be a while until he heard it again so he savoured it.

“Well it was, unbelievably, nice working with you” he said, holding a hand out.

“I will only ever admit this once, but it was nice working with you too Sergeant” she answered, putting her hand in his.

Price was glad that the rookie had understood the assignment when he had tapped the zip ties on his hip earlier. Her shock at her wrists being swiftly locked together lasted for a few seconds before she screeched at him, trying to take him down.

He'd make her laugh again eventually. He was sure of it.

“Come on Spitfire, think we both need a trip to medical and a long bath.”

#mhairianswers #mhairiwrites #cod #john price #captain john price #mhairidrabblescodkidnappers

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