#looking so sweet as if he isn't a hardened criminal | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gfguren · 1 year ago

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hidan x (fem) reader x kakazu | smut, plot if you squint, back on my hidan delulus, morally questionable reader with an even more morally question duo | cw: cursing, choking, biting, voyeurism, imbalanced power dynamic, mentions of blood and human bounties

-hidan and kakazu make a bet at your expense-

You're an enigma; sweet, addicting like sugar, an angel wandering through the hell that is this hole in the wall. And you smile at them, everytime, as if there's not a half lifeless body slung over Hidan's shoulder, as if Kakazu's stare isn't cold enough to freeze hell twice over. Hidan wonders how a thing like you ended up here, something about debts and making ends meet and he doesn't really get it, but what he does know is that he burns to get you in his bed, itches to make the sweet thing that is you cry.

And he's certainly not subtle about it.

"What a pain," Hidan slings the unconscious stranger from one shoulder to the other, effortlessly, as if he weighs nothing at all. "Did they say he had to be in one piece? He'd certainly be lighter without an arm or two."

"So will you if you fuck with my bounty." Kakazu's voice is gruff, adding a disgruntled, "We're almost there, shut up and keep walking."

Kakazu doesn't miss the slew of curses Hidan spouts but chooses to ignore them, for now. "At least we get to see our sweet girl."

"Our?" Kakazu snorts.

"Admit it, you old bastard. I see the way you look at her."

"It's business." Kakazu is firm, unwavering as if he believes his own lie. "That's all."

"Well that 'business' is going to be in my bed tonight, join us or don't, I guess."

Kakazu considers ignoring him, settling on an unconvincing, "Not interested."

Hidan leans close to his partner, and Kakazu has to restrain himself from pummeling him to the forest floor when he jabs a bony elbow between his ribs. "Bet you 500 ryo I'll make her cry."

Kakazu grunts, an almost amused sound that doesn't sound too much like a no and Hidan grins even when the larger man pushes him aside, sure that he's finally got him hooked. Now all he has to do is reel, or just shut up until they arrive. A daunting task, truly.

The bounty shop, if you can call this downtrodden hole in the wall that, is peaceful tonight, it usually is when all the smaller bounties have been filled, and all that's left are the hardened, big name criminals that are more or less a death wish. But they pay well, extremely well, and only two types of people ever take them, or at least make it back to you in one peace: the desperate, and the crazy. And there are exactly two people you know in the latter category; it's for that exact reason you're excited, watching, waiting, tapping your fingers against the counter in anxious anticipation.

Maybe they're not crazy, just stupidly strong, you're still unsure after all this time. But you know they're mysterious, fun, attractive as all hell, unlike the creepy, leering men that usually come around, leer over you but would never dare touch you, because you're his - Kakazu's little broker. More precisely, you're a means to an end, to his money, and nobody fucks with Kakazu's money, and lives that is.

The only one with the gall to touch you is Hidan, brazenly rash, maybe stupid, but Kakazu doesn't seem to mind. Neither do you, really. And you suppose they can be that way too sometimes, leering, hungry, predatory as if they'll devour you in a single, wolfish gulp - but only if you say please.

And you would, by the gods you would.

The door swings open, the rickety thing nearly falling from it's hinges when it slams against the wall with a not too subtle - bang! You jump, heart settling only when Hidan's bickering echoes down hall. Neither heaven nor hell can shut him up when he gets like that, but when he turns the corner, maroon eyes locking with yours, wide like startled doe, his mouth shuts in an instant. He doesn't miss a beat, skulking over to you with that smarmy grin of his, and leaning over the counter. You could mimic the words about to leave his lips, in the exact tone and inflection, if you wanted to.

"Busy tonight, baby?"

Your smile is a genuine one, the rare kind that you save in a jar, spend only in their presence. You point at the body slung over his shoulder. "I am now."

"And after?"

You hum, pretend to think as you shuffle through records, doing your best to match the bounty's mangled face with the one on the page. "Dunno. What's it to you, stranger?"

He's clearly amused, bounty slipping from his shoulder and onto the floor. Your protest catches in your throat when Hidan all but leaps over the counter, the flimsy manila folder in your palms quickly becoming the only thing between your body and his. "I've seen a bit too much of you to be called a stranger, yeah?"

His hands wander beneath the hem of your shirt, fingers leaving a burning trail up your spine. You shudder. "Who are you again?"

He laughs, "The type to hold a grudge, I see."

"You left me alone that night, after you - after we - I thought..."

"Did you think I didn't want you?" He's not subtle about the way he gropes your curves, all but humps your thigh. "Baby, I would have devoured you."

Your face is burning, acutely aware of the second pair of eyes staring you down, but he's not fazed a bit, leaning in until his lips slant over your own. "You're just lucky the old bastard barged in, him and his damn bounties." The glare he shoots Kakazu is smoldering but short lived, and he leans in to whisper against your ear, "Really, I just think he was jealous."

"I can hear you," Kakazu grunts, prodding at the bounty with the toe of his boot, making sure he's still breathing, at least.

Hidan ignores him.

"But since you're so hot about it, let me make it up to you, yeah?" He's suckling at your neck, enticing you like honey, encouraging you to drink, drink, drink. "Promise I'll make it worth your while."

And you swallow every last drop, knowing full well it's poison.

Hidan's hands are still bloody when he strips you, pushes you down on the disheveled futon and leers over you, eyes clouded with lust. But you're not complaining, not that you could with one of his big hands wrapped around the base of your throat, the other between your legs, three fingers deep inside of you. His grin is borderline sinister when he curls his fingers, watches you squirm beneath him like the sweet, pathetic thing that you are.

He has half a mind to grant you mercy, but only half; the other itches to devour you, excites at the thought of sinking his teeth in your throat and spilling your pretty red blood all over the sheets - and that half nearly wins, saved only by Kakazu, grunting a displeased sound from the corner of the room when he tries.

Hidan settles on an almost painful trail of violet instead, granting you breathing room just long enough to press his rough fingers against the bruises blooming beneath the curve of your jaw.

You whimper, a pathetic sound that teeters on a plea, desperate gaze meeting Kakazu's bored one; he's lazing in the worn armchair, a relic of this rundown inn that's perfectly normal sized but entirely too small beneath him, dwarfed by his goliath-like stature. You're not sure why he tagged along, trudging in the shadow of Hidan's excited silhouette without a single word or notable flicker of interest.

Still you're not complaining, you'd lay down your life for him - it's belonged to him for a long time anyway - so if he wanted to touch you, take you, consume your entire being and hold it hostage, teetering on the mercy of his whims -

You'd let him, if only he asked.

He's only watching, Hidan had said so, and honestly a part of you is disappointed; you'd be lying if you said you didn't find him intriguing, hellishly attractive, hadn't fantasized about him touching you with those big, rough hands of his that had taken so many lives, but deigned to save that of your insignificant one - even if it was only for his benefit.

He saved you, used you for his own gain and you knew it well enough from the beginning, but it didn't matter, not to you; you were able to escape from the war torn streets, given a reason to live when you had lost everything, even gained a strange sense of companionship with the detached, lumbering stranger, not quite friendly, romantic, or measurable in any sense of the word; just kind of there.

Unlike the odd, semi-tangible affair with that of his hot tempered companion, who couldn't hide a single thought, emotion, or desire if he tried - which you'd bet a pretty penny he never had.

He's passionate, and hot, and you're attracted to him in every sense of the word, but there's also a place in your chest that's he's crept into, taken refuge in Kakazu's shadow. And you know there's no place like that for you in their twisted, brambled hearts - perhaps you're still that street urchin Kakazu found all those years ago, begging for scraps of their affection.

"I thought you were going to make her cry, but you can't even keep her attention." The gravel of Kakazu's voice draws you back, grounds you to reality where Hidan's calloused fingers delve deeper, rougher and borderline feral at his taunt, vision blurry from his hand around your throat; but when he stands to leave, seemingly bored, Hidan's quick to pull his fingers from your core entirely, leaving you to feel empty and wanting, clenching around nothing in his absence.

"You're so damn impatient, fine." He coaxes your mouth open, presses his digits, still coated in your slick, against your own tongue. "Wanted to take my time with you, savor you," his breath is hot against your face, fingers prodding deeper, deeper, deeper until you're gagging, tears gathering in the corners of your eyes. "Kakazu never did understand showing reverence, taking the time to worship and praise and adore something, other than his own damn wallet that is." He retrieves his hand, leaving you gasping for air as he wipes your saliva across the hollow of your cheek. "Guess I'll have to devote myself to you in another way, I'll be sure to keep your attention this time."

You're still reeling when Hidan's head dips, disappears between your thighs until you're gasping, fingers tangled in his silver strands of hair.

You moan an exasperated and breathless, "Hidan."

And it excites him more than he cares to admit, spurs him on, has your eyes rolling back when he flattens his tongue against your sex, teeth grazing your folds.

His big hands spread your thighs, holds them apart in their bruising grip when you try to close them around his head, overstimulated with pleasure. And the bastard laughs, laughs when you try to pull away, whimpering pathetically when he circles your clit with the flat of his tongue. You nearly cum right then and there when he glances up at you, maroon eyes clouded with lust, shadowed beneath his dark lashes.

He smirks, lips coated in your slick. "Finally got your attention?"

"Don't get cocky," you sigh, absentmindedly running a hand through his tussled hair. It's gentle and intimate almost, and he's quick to grab your wrist, nipping at your pulse just to feel it stutter.

"Careful, I might get curious if you're just as sweet when you bleed."

The implication terrifies you, because that's not a bluff, not to people, criminals, fanatics like Hidan - but it also excites something inside of you, has your thighs clenching around nothing like a depraved virgin.

"Ooh-ho, you'd like that, wouldn't you?" His grin spreads across your skin, disappearing between your thighs. "Gonna have to take that up with Kakazu." He fits two fingers inside of you, curling them until your eyes wrench shut and your back arches against the futon. "He'd have my head if I hurt his pretty little meal ticket, so I won't-" He adds another, stretches you around his thick digits, breath hot against your core when he mutters a suggestive, "not too much, anyway."

It's sinful the way his lips wrap around your clit, the squelching of his tongue and fingers working you over would have you blushing had you not been seeing stars, white hot pleasure coursing through you when he finds that spot that turns those stars to gunpowder. And he sets you alights, doesn't stop even when your thighs clench around his ears, fingernails leaving red hot streaks across his shoulders.

Tears have gathered in the corners of your eyes, threatening to fall - but not quite - when he finally pulls away, snakes his way up your body and grips your chin between his thumb and forefinger. He examines you, runs the flat of his palms across your dry cheeks. "Tough little thing are you?"

He shoots a glance at Kakazu, still lounging in the armchair, arms crossed like he couldn't care less, but you catch the way his eyes have darkened, the shadow of a bulge straining against his pants, the way he tap, tap, taps a painted fingertip against the straining muscles of his bicep.

Almost like he's waiting.

"Come on, sweet," Hidan drawls, flipping you over like you weigh nothing at all. "Cry for me, will ya?"

"What do you - mmph!" He's not gentle about the way he shoves your face into the cushion, shoves himself against the swell of your ass, dry humping you through his sweats.

"So pretty, and sweet," he groans against your ear, freeing himself from the confines of his sweats, pumping himself one, twice, three times before burying his cock inside you. "That's it, so soft."

You lurch forward, clawing at the covers, vying for sweet reprieve, but he wraps his big hand around your jaw, pulls you back until his teeth graze your throat. "Makes me wanna ruin you." You expect him to bite, surprised by the hot, desperate kisses he presses against your jaw, your throat, the curve of your shoulder. It's hypnotizing, erotic, romantic almost, but of course he's only testing you, tasting you, searching for the best place for the point of his canines, the bite of his teeth. There's a flash of crazed sanguine eyes, and he tastes your blood on his tongue.

He moans, lewd and desperate and loud, loud enough to drown out the sound of your own cries, loud enough to make you blush at the thought of people hearing it in the next room over. His grip on your jaw is bruising, you think it might just pop, eyes rolling back in your skull when his hips meet yours in rough tempo. You sink your nails in the tender flesh of his wrist, half sure you've drawn blood, hoping he'll ease up, if only a little.

It only seems to spur him on.

You crane your head as best you can beneath the crushing weight of Hidan's palm, flash a pleading glance at Kakazu, surely he wouldn't let him go too far, right? Hidan said so himself.

But his eyes are cold, vacant, an indifferent green that bores right through you like you mean nothing at all, like you're a bug not worthy of being crushed beneath his boot. It gives you butterflies.

"Don't give him that look, baby." Hidan squeezes your cheeks between his thumb and ring finger, angling your chin until he can force his mouth against yours. You can taste your blood on his tongue. "Said I wasn't gonna hurt ya, didn't I? See-" He rocks his hips against yours, faster, faster, until he finds a pace that has you reeling, keeling over when hits that spot that has you seeing stars. "You're fine."

Fine? Perhaps. Maybe if he hadn't leaned over you, hadn't snaked a big arm between your legs to find your sweet spot, rubbed it between thick, calloused fingers as if you weren't already on the cusp of tumbling head first into sweet oblivion. Had his thrusts not grown erratic, feral and bruising like a wild animal. But now? Now you're fucked. It feels good, too good, like you're at the peak of sugar rush but it goes higher, higher still until you're a shaking mess of limbs and and lust and stupor.

"Stop, Hidan fuck, stop!" Your whole body is trembling, hands weakly pushing at his wrist that's dead set on forcing you over the edge once more. "Stop, ha-aah!"

You crash again, clenching around his cock in waves that are so intense they're almost painful and before you know it, the world has become a blur of watercolors. There's a ringing in your ears but in the incessant buzzing is the distant, almost sinister cackle of Hidan's laughter. You don't have the time or the mind to be confused; a rough hand cups your chin and wrenches your head up to meet Kakazu's blazing stare.

"That's 500 ryo old man." His hips pound into yours with renewed fervor. "Fuck, Hah-" He throws his head back, fingers surely leaving bruises where they lay. "She's so pretty when she cries, isn't she Kakazu? Might have t-aah." He sucks in a breath, hips stuttering. "Might have to make her cry all the time, yeah?"

Your brain is short circuiting but still, his words ring in your ears, did they bet on you? The bastards. You're worth more than 500 ryo, surely.

Kakazu says nothing, arms crossed against his broad chest. He's calm, suspiciously so given the circumstances, lips set in a thin, firm line. Hidan pulls out with groan, pumping his release over your back in thick, hot ropes. His free hand pushes back the hair stuck to the sweat of his forehead. "What's wrong, old man? Was the show worth the money or something?"

Kakazu only chuckles, deep and low, vibrato shooting tingles down your spine and straight to your pussy. "You call that crying?" He stands, taking one step, then two, and you're quick to sit up, head reeling as you scramble backwards - but he's faster, hand snatching your chin, turning your head this way and that, thumbs digging your cheeks almost painfully. "-just because there's a tear or two?" His eyes piece straight through you, cold, calculated, like a snake about to strike. "C'mere, I'll show you crying."

You're all but dragged off the futon and forced to your knees in front of the armchair, rough fingers tangled in your hair. "Kakazu I can't, I-"

"Don't worry." His words certainly don't inspire confidence, free hand pushing down his pants until his cock springs free, slapping dramatically against his stomach. "Unlike Hidan, I'm not interested in making you cum."

Your mouth goes dry, his girth alone is nearly twice that of Hidan's, and that's to say nothing of the length and the bold, angry vein along the underside and - and -

"Open your mouth." It's certainly an order, not a suggestion - but you hesitate, still reeling from the shock. His fingers tighten, angling your head painfully until you whimper. "I don't like to repeat myself."

You part your lips, fear and excitement turning your stomach, and the very moment he deigns he can fit, he's forcing himself against your tongue, tip hitting the back of your throat in a single, selfish stroke. You gag, reeling back only an inch before Kakazu's pushing you back down, dark pubic hair tickling the tip of your nose. You can't breathe, fat tears stinging your eyes and rolling down your cheeks as your hands push desperately against his thighs.

"That's cheating, Kakazu!" The shrill of Hidan's voice is lost in your drumming ears.

"How can I be cheating-" you can almost hear the smirk in Kakazu's voice. "-when I haven't even started?"

#hidan #kakazu #naruto #naruto x reader #hidan x reader #kakazu x reader #akatsuki x reader #naruto x you #hidan x you #kakazu x you #naruto x y/n #hidan x y/n #kakazu x y/n #naruto smut #im h*rny and on my period im sorry lol

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rewrittenwrongs · 6 months ago

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Finally realised I haven’t actually posted this here… @thebibliosphere @justanotherhomelessromantic @theelitistpirate your post is a masterpiece and awakened the muses. I wrote this in one sitting and didn’t beta read so if you see any typos no you didn’t

Read on Ao3 here

Gotham is a cesspit of chaos. It’s full to the brim with criminals, covered in rapists and murderers, almost controlled by mobs and mafia, practically ran by the drug trade, and home to more masks than any other place in the world. In this case, the term ‘Mask’ includes one founding member of the Justice League, almost a dozen of his children, and more than a dozen villains.

Among these lawless people is one Amaury Guichon: the Chocolate Guy.

(It is notable that ‘chocolate guy’ is not the name he intended to go by, but that’s what people started calling him, and the name simply stuck.)

Contrary to what his name might suggest, he is not a cheerful chef that goes around handing treats to young children. He is a chef, and he can be cheerful, and he does occasionally give chocolate bars to people, but his intentions are far more sinister than spreading cheer and cavities.

Case in point: he is currently in an abandoned confectionary factory, preparing a vat of melted chocolate while his group of kidnapped socialites watch helplessly.

“What is this?” one of the socialites demands, struggling against the ropes tying her to a chair. She’s an older woman, with gray hair and a shimmering dress, and doesn’t actually seem all that scared. Years of living in Gotham as a member of the upper class must make her accustomed to being kidnapped.

“Ah, mon petit chou pourri, isn't it obvious?” Chocolate Guy lifts the comically large spatula he is using to stir the chocolate, letting the sickeningly sweet liquid drip down in ribbons. “It’s death by chocolate!”

“How, exactly, do you plan to kill us with chocolate?” another kidnappee, Bruce Wayne, asks dryly. He seemed utterly unconcerned, unimpressed even, by his imminent death. “Do you plan do drown us in it? That would be rather messy, and take a while. Heat it up and burn us? No, the chocolate would burn, and that wouldn’t kill us—“

“The circumstance of your death is no matter to you!” Chocolate Guy shrieked. “Je vais te tuer! Peu importe comment!”

“Is that why you haven’t mentioned the bombs yet?” Sam Reich asked, appearing out of nowhere with a gleeful grin.

Chocolate Guy reared back. “Where did you come from!?”

“You fight Batman and you’re asking me?” Sam chuckles. “I’ve been here the whole time. And I have a more important question: HOW DID YOU MAKE BOMBS OUT OF CHOCOLATE!?”

Chocolate Guy raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “They’re bombe au chocolats, what else would they be made out of?”

“But how?”

“Honestly, no wonder half of Gotham thinks you’re a Meta,” Bruce Wayne piped up. “With the things you can do with chocolate, you could work at any confectionary you want, any restaurant, you’d win awards—“

“Shut your mouth!” The Chocolate Guy lunges forward and smears a mess of chocolate against Bruce’s mouth. It cools down quickly, hardening against his chin and trapping his lips shut. The look Bruce sends him is impressively annoyed. “I don’t want to win awards, I want to wreak havoc!” Chocolate Guy snarled. “People must appreciate the true destructive potential of chocolate!”

“Hence the bombs,” Sam added, nodding.

A slow clap sounded from the ceiling.

All heads turn to the rafters, where Nightwing crouched, slowly clapping his gloved hands together. “I gotta say, Amaury, this scheme of yours is pretty impressive. Lure us over here with your kidnapping, distract us from your henchmen so they can plant the bombs unnoticed.“

He drops down from the ceiling, landing in a crouch. He removes his escrima sticks and activates the electricity. “Honestly, you might’ve gotten away with it.”

Some upperclassman cries out in surprise as Spoiler, having appeared out of nowhere, neatly cuts his ropes. The group of rich people had been arranged in a circle tied by the same length of rope, so the rest of their restraints slackened as well.

Spoiler held up the cut portion of rope. For some reason, she sniffs it. “Is this made of sugar?”

“Dragons beard candy!” Chocolate Guy cried, brandishing his reinforced chocolate nunchucks. “Some of my finest work!”

The following battle is one that would be told by bards across the world for the rest of time, if bards still existed. Nightwing is impressively skilled with his escrima sticks, not to mention very strong and incredibly flexible, but Amaury Guichon is a force to be reckoned with using those nunchucks, and it isn’t long before he captures one of the escrima and sends it flying. Nightwing uses the tiny opening the motion made and swipes at Amaury, but he dances to the side and slams one end of the nunchucks into his back, forcing Nightwing to use his momentum to roll.

Spoiler leads the formerly kidnapped socialites to safety while Nightwing is occupied, keeping a wary eye on Sam Reich, who is watching the battle with a concerning amount of glee.

It thankfully isn’t long before Nightwing gets the upper hand, forcing Chocolate Guy back until he trips over an abandoned conveyor belt. The vigilante makes swift work of him after that, tying him up with his own candy ropes—and zip ties, to be safe—and leaving him for the police to detain. He also leaves them the vat of chocolate. No way is he dealing with that.

He heads outside after collecting his escrima, but finds only upper class civilians. He taps his comm, “Spoiler?”

“Spoiler’s signal is jammed,” Oracle tells him. “So is Robin’s and Red Robin’s. They been off the map for two minutes, Spoiler for one.”

Nightwing frowned and began a closer examination of the surroundings. “You can’t track them?”

“I think an EMP went off, none of their tech is online.”

“That’d do it,” he muttered. “Who’s disabling the bombs? Have we found all of them?

“Signal’s taking care of one in East End, Red Hood has one in Crime Alley, Orphan has the one by the Wayne Enterprise building, and Batwoman is en route to the Wilson Memorial Bridge. There’s still two, one of them’s by the cell tower in the Bowery.”

Nightwing worked on his sweep of the factory, ignoring Chocolate Guy screaming French in the background. “B won’t be able to reach a suit for a few minutes. Call Bluebird?”

“Already on it,” Oracle replies. “She’ll be suiting up any second now. She’s closer to the cell tower, you look around for the last bomb and keep an ear out for our missing birds.”

Nightwing nodded redundantly and swung off into the night.

He searched East End first, since it was closest, but found no trace of chocolate bombs nor of wayward birds. He swung through Crime Alley with no luck, stopping to help Red Hood disable his bomb. They searched the Narrows and the Bowery together, during which Signal, Bluebird and Orphan finished with their bombs, and were heading towards Bristol when a figure landed beside them.

Red Robin waved. “Hey guys!”

Red Hood startled. “What the fu—“

“Where have you been!?” Nightwing demanded.

“With Sam Reich,” Red Robin said like it was obvious. “He kidnapped me, Robin and Spoiler to play a weird game of Simon Says.”

“What?” Red Hood hissed.

Nightwing landed on a roof and waited until the others landed beside him. “Did he hurt any of you?”

“No. Robin did get some friction burns from struggling against the ropes, but we’re all fine.”

“I hate Reich,” Red Hood muttered. “He’s weird.”

Red Robin shrugged. “Eh, Sam’s okay. Ra’s think he might take over the League of Assassins if he gets bored enough.”

Nightwing stared at his brother. “Okay, ignoring the fact that you’re apparently on a first name basis with one of our rogues—“

“Two, me and Eddie play fifth dimensional chess on Tuesdays—“

“Ignoring that, for now, we will be addressing that later—why does Ra’s think he could take over the League and why do you know he thinks that?”

“Ra’s keeps sending me passive aggressive letters about how the League’s doing. Well, that’s what he’s been doing recently, before that he was putting belladonna in my food for steali—“

“Where the fuck have you been?” Oracle demanded over comms. Red Robin winced.

“With Sam. He told us that the last bomb is by the docks.”

Nightwing opened his mouth, then closed it again. “We are bringing this back up later,” he eventually hissed, before turning and jumping off the roof.

“Why’s Ra’s trying to kill you?” Red Hood asked.

Red Robin watched Nightwing grapple away. “He isn’t, he needs me alive to have my children.”

“What?”

Red Robin copied his brother and jumped off the roof, grapple gun poised.

The three vigilantes reconvened at the docks, where they met Spoiler, Robin and the Riddler. The villain of the group was hunched over a complex chocolate structure, with Spoiler leaning over his shoulder and yelling about bombs and chocolate and defying physics, and Robin was several metres away with his katana at the ready. There was a somehow functional chocolate timer next to the bomb, which said they only had thirty seconds before the bomb went off.

Batwoman had disarmed her bomb during the ride over, so this was the last one they had to disable.

“Eddie? What are you doing here?”

That’s right, for some reason Red Robin was friends with the Riddler. Of course.

“Disabling the bomb,” Riddler replied, haggard.

“Do you even know how to do that?” Nightwing snapped.

“Just throw it in the bay,” Red Hood said.

“Oh yes, because a huge splash of hot steam is so much better.”

“Chocolate doesn’t float, it’ll sink to the bottom.”

“That’ll kill everything near it and—“

“You think things can live in Gotham water?”

“—it might explode the caves, you and I both know there are aquatic cave systems here.”

Red Robin, having previously disappeared during the conversation, reappeared when there was ten seconds left, holding a half empty bottle of vodka. He shoved back Riddler and began dumping the alcohol over the chocolate monstrosity. The others took many large steps back when he pulled out a box of matches.

He set alight the match and dropped it on the alcohol soaked, half deconstructed chocolate abomination, which immediately caught fire.

They all watched as the chocolate melted.

“Smart,” Spoiler observed.

“There’s really no hardwire in there?” Nightwing asked, wary and confused. “It’s just chocolate. How.”

“Does it really matter?” Red Robin asked, taking another step back. “They’ve all been dealt with.”

“What about Reich?” Robin demanded. “He’s who-knows-where and has proven skilled enough to capture vigilantes. We can’t leave him alone.”

“Oh, that?” Riddler said dismissively. “Don’t worry, I know a guy.”

Somewhere else in the world, Brennan Lee Mulligan accepts a phone call.

#Batman fanfic #nightwing #amaury guichon #sam reich #gotham rogues #the Ao3 link is registered users only #I know chocolate doesn’t work like that #and that if the bombs were actual bombs setting them on fire would set them off #but just ignore that okay? suspension of disbelief #dc fanfic #batman fanfiction #fan fiction #my writing #dual post #oneshot

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majesty-madness · 2 years ago

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A Past Encounter - Bucky Barnes x reader (nsfw)

Summary: Being in a relationship with Bucky, Y/N prided herself on knowing him quite well but when she’s accidentally teleported back to 1940, Y/N discovers that there is a whole other Bucky that she has yet to meet. The sweet flirt that had everything going for him before his unfortunate capture by HYDRA.

Word Count: 3300+

Warnings: 40’s Bucky & Steve, flirty 40’s Bucky, small 40’s Steve, angst, angry modern Bucky, mentions of building fires, 40's cameras, worry all around, possibly accurate rules of the U.S. government, Steve mentioned as a bookworm or sorts, Bucky liking to read and what, there's isn't much to warn here really

a/n: not proofread. Sorry for the late update; went out of state to pay my family a visit. And I'm also sorry it took so long, hope you enjoy.

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Chapter Nine

“The investigation into the whereabouts of Y/N L/N is no longer your concern.”

The older man stared down the rest of them as Tony and Bruce stood off to the side.

“What are you talking about?” Steve asked as he took a step forward, his voice deep and pinched with a serious undertone.

“We understand that Y/N L/N was chasing after a criminal known as Henry Tallis and it is because of his affiliations that you will cease your search.” Ross specifically explained without fully answering Steve’s question.

Bucky took an angry step forward, brows dipped and jaw tightly clenched. “What the hell is going on?”

“Need I remind you Barnes that your presence here as an Avenger is all by the pardon of the U.S. government; we can easily revoke that pardon if you don’t want to cooperate with us.” Ross snapped back as the hardened expression grew in depth.

“Y/N is a part of this team, one of our friends, so Bucky has every right to be upset.” Sam quickly butt in to diverge some of the attention of Bucky as he stood toe to toe with the old bastard.

Ross then looked to Sam. “This isn’t a matter of friendship, but rather national security.”

“You think maybe you should elaborate?” Natasha chastised, crossing her arms over her chest.

There was a few seconds of silence as Ross tried to think of what exactly he would say to this team.

“Henry Tallis has had some….influence over certain members of the U.S. government; particularly congress which is responsible for making decisions for the future of the country. And the extent of his influence is classified.”

“Y/N isn’t a part of the U.S. congress so you better start making sense before you push your luck.” Sam quipped back sarcastically, borderline annoyed.

“Is that a threat, Wilson?” Ross asked condescendingly, all the while keeping himself straight as a board to show no sign of backing down.

Though Steve gave no opening for anything else to happen as he stepped between the two. “No one is threatening anyone, we just want to know how this pertains to Y/N. She was never involved with Tallis before this point.”

“That’s of no consequence. The fact of the matter is that this case is now officially government business, not the Avengers.”

“You had to have known we’re not just going to let that happen.” Bruce finally interjected after being silent for most of the conversation.

Ross spared the scientist a look. “None of you have any choice. And if you don’t adhere to this order then you will find yourselves in a lot of trouble.”

Bucky could feel the white hot rage burn deep in his gut, the desire to slug this old bastard almost too tempting to resist. However, despite his anger he knew that he indeed had been pardoned and if he acted rashly, he could very well compromise the life that he spent so much time building up once more.

“If you know what’s good for you, all of you will do as you’re told, and leave this matter to us.” Ross added before turning away and walking out of the lab.

The group fell quiet as they all got lost in their own thoughts as to how they were going to deal with the rapidly changing situation. With the interference of the Secretary of State made it harder to work around compared to before when they had free rein.

Bucky retreated into his thoughts of despair, realizing that even when they had been close to bringing Y/N another obstacle got in their way, pulling her farther away. And if he personally was to blatantly refuse then they could take his freedom.

He gritted his teeth at the thought. If it wasn’t HYDRA, then it was his own country jerking his chain; holding all his deeds as the winter soldier over his head to keep him in line.

Sympathetic with his friend’s quiet frustration, Steve spoke first. “We need to do something.”

“Yeah, but if the government ordered us to stay out of it then what else can we do?” Sam verbalized exactly what they were all thinking.

“We take it up with The Executive Branch, get them to overturn their decision.” Natasha suggested.

Bucky perked up at the idea.

Tony then stepped forward. “A little meet n’ greet; break out the bread and wine.”

“I don’t think they're going to be interested in appetizers when talking about espionage.” Sam scoffed with the hint of a smirk on his lips.

It was then that Tony shrugged his shoulders. “You’d be surprised what people are willing to talk about when there’s a few thousand grams of carbs sitting out for free.”

“Catering aside, if we could somehow convince them that dealing with Tallis is our problem as much as theirs then they might reconsider their position.” Steve added, arms crossed over his chest.

Then Bucky spoke for the first time in several minutes. “We could also try to persuade them that this problem can be dealt with faster if they had our help.”

“Just make sure to do it in a way that makes them think it was their idea. These kinds of guys don’t like asking for help.” Tony quipped a bit passive aggressively before smirking to himself.

“That probably won’t be the hard part.” Natasha huffed humorlessly.

Steve turned to face Natasha, taking a few steps toward her to pat her shoulder. “I know, it’s going to be a lot, but we have to try or else we’ll never get Y/N back.”

“And there’s no way in hell we're leaving her safety up to a bunch of pretentious, self-righteous bastards.” Bucky snarled at the thought even as it left his mouth.

Everyone collectively nodded at Bucky’s determined notion.

Steve gave one more nod in agreement before he spoke up again; the forthright determination seeping into his words. “Right. Let’s get this thing started, and then we’ll figure out how to get Y/N back home.”

________

The moment she stepped outside, the smell of fire permeated the air into her nose.

Y/N could immediately tell that something was a light, and that hypothesis was further proven accurate when she witnessed old fashioned fire trucks zipping past her while a crowd of people followed the path the truck left behind.

Concerned, she sped off in the same direction as the traffic all the while a thick plume of black smoke rose into the blue sky.

An oil fire? She thought as she came closer to the site, though she didn’t have to get that close as she could see the slowly distinguishing flames from a distance.

Beyond the people, Y/N could see fires spitting out from the high floor windows of an apartment building. Many onlookers were tilting their heads back to gaze up at the fire and pointed as the emergency services did their job.

She stared up like many of the others surrounding, taking in the roaring flames; in a way en-trance by the way they moved about in the sky. Strangely the occurrence reminded her of the way people scurried about in the modern time trying to deal with emergencies and the longer she looked on the more it felt as though her mind was trying to teleport her back to her time.

However, the slowly encasing tunnel vision broke when she heard a prominent conversation between two men discussing the incident happening in front of them.

Y/N quickly walked over to them. “Excuse me, what’s going on? How did this happen?”

One of the men, wearing a suit and hat, looked down at her. “Fire started only a few minutes ago. I heard some old man left the stove or something like that.”

Then the other spoke up. “I thought it was some kids messing around with their mom’s cigarettes.”

“Cigarettes don’t make smoke like that.” The first man spoke, quickly turning back to the building.

Y/N gave her attention briefly back at the smoke then turned away, but as she did the bright flash of a light bulb stung her eyes for a moment. The sudden bright exposure to her eyes hurt, making it difficult to see.

She stumbled away from the crowd, back to the sidewalk, to pause for a second. She leaned against the prickling bricks of a random building to rub her eyes free of the tears that were now escaping from them. She knew that it was because of the camera flash right in her face.

Honestly, she hadn’t even known that she had been standing in close proximity to one and also forgot that in her time there were no such things as bulky cameras anymore.

It took a while, but eventually she got the tears under control and was able to see clearly again all the while the smell of smoke and fire soaked the afternoon air. Y/N got up from her place on the wall, and began heading back home.

The way back, she would blink her eyes deliberately to cast away the remaining spots from her vision caused by the camera bulb.

Maybe when she got back, Y/N thought to herself, she could put a cold washcloth over her eyes; see if that helps. And luckily she made it back upstairs without any further trouble, knocking on their front door.

It took a moment, coupled with the sound of steady footsteps, but eventually the door was pulled open.

“Y/N, what happened to your eyes?” Bucky, who’d opened the door, who immediately sounded concerned.

He already reached a hand up to Y/N’s arm, gently guiding her to him as he looked over her teary eyes.

She shook her hand at him, “It’s nothing, there was a building fire a couple blocks from the library and I got in the way of a photographer so the bulb flashed in my face.”

Bringing her forward even more, Bucky closed the door behind her as he guided Y/N to the couch to sit down.

“Y/N?” Steve voiced, appearing from his bedroom.

Y/N didn’t have time to say anything as Bucky spoke again. “Steve can you get a cold, wet washcloth for Y/N’s eyes?”

Steve nodded, swiftly heading to the cabinet across the room and grabbed a small cloth.

“Here, sit down.” Bucky said, again guiding her to sit down on the cushion.

Y/N shook her head. “I’m fine, Bucky, it was just a little light. I’ll be okay.”

“Yeah, but when one of those bulbs explodes in your face, it’s not a joke. You think you’re seeing stars.” Bucky refuted, sitting down next to her.

“I assume you speak from experience?” Y/N prompted, sparing him a glance. Though she closed her eyes to elevate them from the normal light inside the apartment.

Bucky nodded while laying his head on her back. “Happened once when I was a kid; my dad tried to take a picture of my ma, my sister and me, and he didn’t know how to. I stepped over to him to try and help him, but he ended up pressing the button right as I stepped in front of the bulb.”

Soon Steve came bounding back to the pair with a wet cloth in tow. He handed the cloth to Bucky, who nudged Y/N to lift her head.

“Here, put this over your eyes. Should help a little.”

Y/N did as he asked, taking the cloth into her hands and pressing it to her closed eyes. When the wet, but cold material pressed against her eyelids, she could feel some semblance of relief.

She let out a sigh. “That feels better.”

“That’s good.” Steve finally said something, now leaning down to sit in the chair off to the right of the couch.

“Now what’s this about a ‘building fire’?” Bucky mentioned a bit more casually than a few seconds ago.

“Oh, right. Well I had just left the library, and as soon as I stepped out I saw all these firetrucks racing down the street so I followed them. Turns out there was an apartment building on fire just up the road; some old guy left the stove on or something.” Y/N explained as she briefly pulled the cloth from her eyes to blink a few times.

“Was anybody hurt?” Steve asked, leaving forward anxiously.

Y/N shook her head. “I’m not sure. I didn’t hear anyone mention anything like that.”

“I’m sure we’ll hear all about it tomorrow morning in the paper.” Bucky said as he retracted his hand from Y/N’s back onto his lap. “Regardless, how was your trip to the library? What did you think?”

Y/N smiled fondly, bringing the washcloth back to her face. “It was good, really good. I love the inside, it looks like something straight out of a movie.”

“That’s what I said.” Steve added with an excited tone to his voice that wasn’t over the top.

Bucky laughed. “Steve used to go there all the time, but ever since we started working, he hasn’t had the time.”

“What about you? Are you an avid reader?” Y/N pointed asked the brunette.

“I wouldn’t say I’m an ‘avid’ reader, but I do like to read on occasion. Though I don’t usually read at the library.” He explained, sitting back against the couch to rest comfortably.

Y/N took the now warm cloth from her mostly healed eyes to cast him a cheeky expression. “Then where, might I ask, do you read?”

He laughed as he ran fingers through his slightly curled locks. “Mostly I read in my room, propped against the headboard. Sometimes I will sit out here too.”

“He says that it’s easier to get into a book if he’s alone; allows him to imagine it all like a film.” Steve stated with enthusiasm that he finally had the chance to describe Bucky’s habits instead of Bucky explaining his away.

Y/N nodded though. “I can understand that. I am much the same way.”

“Great minds think alike?” Bucky winked at her causing her to laugh and bashfully turn away. The gesture made all three of them giggle at the silliness of their behavior, comfortable enough to let themselves relax.

The chime of the clock on the wall interrupted their laughter, making the trio observe the time the hands pointed to.

“Looks like it’s time to start making dinner.” Y/N verbalized all their thoughts, beginning to stand from the couch. “Let me help you…”

Bucky jumped to his feet, hand coming back to now rest on her waist while the other on her arm closest to him and poor Steve had already stood up, ready to keep Y/N from going anywhere too.

“I don’t think so, you had a camera bulb explode in your face today; let me and Steve handle this one. After all, we have been doing it ourselves for a couple of years now.”

“Yeah but…” She began but Bucky refused to let her finish.

“If this is about another way to pay us back, then do so by sitting here and letting your eyes rest.”

Y/N went to argue, her mouth opening but again Bucky stopped her. “And I’m not taking no for an answer.”

She raised a brow at him, deciding whether or not she wanted to playfully argue with him, however, she thought she should probably listen since she did in fact want to sit for a bit longer.

With a begrudging sigh, she glanced between both of the boys. “Fine.”

“Don’t worry, we won’t burn the place down and if I feel so inclined; I’ll ask for your help.” Bucky jokingly remarked, taking a few steps back away from the living room.

“We just don’t want you to make your eyes worse or anything like that.” Steve defended himself and Bucky.

Y/N moved her body to face the thin man, taking note of his soft expression and timid physique.

“I know, Steve and I appreciate that. And I promise, I won’t move from this spot.” She smirked while letting her legs fold under her weight to plop back down to the sofa.

The moment she made contact with the couch, it made a light thumping noise and Steve laughed quietly before joining Bucky in the kitchen. Even though they were in said kitchen, because of the apartment’s small size, Y/N could still see them from the living room. In fact from the angle she was sitting, she could almost make out the exact hand gestures they made as they were making dinner.

She watched their movements a little while then eventually directed her body to lay across the couch instead of simply sitting. She took the washcloth that Steve had been kind enough to give her earlier, flipped it over to the colder side and placed it back over her eyes. The darkness the cloth provided was a relief to her irsis’ as she had to admit, she hadn’t really wanted to make dinner; she just wanted to be polite.

Y/N laid there for several minutes in silence, listening to the sounds coming from the kitchen as Steve and Bucky made a commotion amongst themselves as they cooked. She also didn’t think of much else other than how it was going to take her eyes to come back to completely normal. She had been on the cusp of accidentally falling asleep when Bucky’s voice rang out from the kitchen.

“Hey, Y/N, I was thinking…” He started, pausing to give Y/N time to reply.

“Thinkin about what?” She yelled from the couch.

“Since you’re going to be staying with us, and I know you probably will get bored hanging out here all day; maybe we should get you a copy of the key to our apartment.”

The idea gave her pause.

Surely that wasn’t necessary, afterall, she probably wouldn’t be here that long.

“Are you sure? I mean who knows how long I’ll even be here, in your guy’s apartment I mean.” She replied out of her stupor.

“Yeah that’s true, but it takes a while to get a place of your own especially around here and if it’s just you, it would probably be even harder.”

Y/N dragged the wash cloth from her face to keep her thought line from getting distracted, as if having something in her way would somehow distract her. Her eyes stared at the white colored ceiling, mimicking the way she got lost in her mind that morning after she’d woken up.

Did she really need a copy of their key to their apartment? Would her time there really justify needing access to someone else’s place?

The answer should’ve been no, no it wasn’t necessary, but the unfortunate thing of it was, she didn’t know. She had no way of knowing how long she would be trapped in the 1940’s or if she would even-

She must’ve gotten lost a lot longer than she thought because she didn’t immediately register that Bucky had said her name a few times.

“So what do you think? Good, bad idea?”

“U-uh, well…” Y/N stuttered, trying to reorganize herself. “W-whatever you think is best, Bucky.”

Bucky continued. “I can stop by the locksmith tomorrow after work, get you a copy then you can come and go as you like.”

Y/N absently nodded, not realizing Bucky couldn’t see her. “Y-yeah, that uh…that sounds good.”

Neither one of them said anything after that as Bucky became enthralled in a conversation with Steve as they made dinner and Y/N got so caught up in her thoughts that she, briefly, forgot where she was.

Even though she agreed to have an extra key, she kept trying to rationalize the reason why she would need one as Bucky’s explanation did not satisfy her.

It would only be because of convenience, only until she could leave, only until she could figure out how the device worked.

Only until she could go home.

________

Tagged Profiles

@honeyrydernot @spn-obession @tinyminxie @fluffybunnyu @saintmagx @hopelessromantic423

#marvel #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x female reader #female reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes series #winter soldier #winter soldier x reader

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johnlock-shrine · 1 year ago

Text

An updating list of my favorite fics in the order I read them. Deduce what you will from my love of angst, meandering descriptions, and happy endings.

From A Drop Of Water ~96k M victorianpining 2021

"It was simply my conjecture of what a future world might look like and how you and I might fit inside it. From a drop of water a logician should be able to infer the possibility of an Atlantic or a Niagara."

Whirlwind ~51k M DiscordantWords 2022

But John arrives in the midst of a very active storm season, and Sherlock very clearly hasn’t let go of the past. Against his better judgement, John finds himself talked into riding along after one last storm.

Their Great Reward 10k T BeautifulFiction 2012

Boxing day, in John's opinions, is the worst day of the year. Christmas is over, the tree is wilting and stripped of gifts, and there's a week of dead-time until the clean slate of the new year. However the combination of a blizzard, a power-cut and Sherlock might just make it a day to remember.

The Progress of Sherlock Holmes 62k E ivyblossom 2011

“I had,” he said, “come to an entirely erroneous conclusion, my dear Watson, how dangerous it always is to reason from insufficient data.”

— Arthur Conan Doyle, The Adventure of the Speckled Band

Thirst 122k E bittergreens 2014

When John realizes he has feelings for Sherlock and decides he must keep those feelings secret at all costs, the resulting tension might bring Baker Street to the ground.

“The fundamental condition for desire is an absence or lack, but desire is never only an absence.” –Leo Bersani

The Masquerade of the Red Death ~17k E okapi 2018

On the hunt for a serial killer, Sherlock & John attend a masked orgy.

Lucid 71k E dr_girlfriend 2013

"The first time it happened was completely by accident."

Post-Reichenbach, John finds a way to hold on to Sherlock after all.

Transformation ~53k E Jadis 2013

Upon his arrival at his childhood home, John finds Mycroft-effing-Holmes in his parents’ living room. It wouldn’t be the first time a Holmes had turned his life on its ear.

Once More, With Feeling 21k T cellardoors 2011

To put off his meddlesome, matchmaking mother, John convinces Sherlock to play the role of his significant other. Unparalleled awkwardness ensues.

and stand there at the edge of my affection ~3k G coloredink 2011

"You've written love letters," Sherlock asserted.

A Cure For Boredom ~82k E emmagrant01 2012

They'd never talked about sex in the year they'd known each other. Well, that wasn't quite correct: Sherlock had never said a word about sex; John had bemoaned his personal dearth of it on many occasions.

Let You Kiss Me (So Sweet and So Soft) ~7k G out_there 2010

The first time Sherlock kisses him, John keeps his eyes open, and so does Sherlock, and mostly, he wonders what Sherlock could possibly be up to. There'll be some logic to this. Some ridiculous experiment about body warmth or respiratory rates or testing a new way of picking pockets. Sherlock does the unimaginable for bizarre reasons, but behind it, there's always logic and curiosity. Sometimes, it just takes him a while to explain it to John.

Acceptable Behaviour 3k M bbcatemysoul 2013

Sherlock isn't really sure why John wants to shag him, but he's certain that if he's careful to behave properly about it, John can be persuaded to keep doing it.

In other news, John is a good boyfriend and Sherlock is an idiot.

A Terrific Soporific 11k T antietamfalls 2013

Sherlock, a long-time sufferer of insomnia, is forced to share a bed with John at a hotel while on a case. To his astonishment, he finds that spending the night next to John helps him sleep and becomes determined to maneuver himself back into John's bed.

In which John is a cuddly, BAMF assassin. ~11k T notbeloved07 2012

Sherlock braces himself for a cold-blooded killer, with nerves of steel and no remorse, with a reputation for ruthlessness that makes several hardened criminals check their closets before they go to bed - and meets John. Easygoing, good-natured, cuddly jumper-wearing John. Who thinks he's brilliant and hilarious, and can he take him out for a coffee?

M for Marriage ~29k M RonaSargent 2014

John Watson finds out who he is actually married to. It's not who he thought.

Beset with marital problems and with distraction in mind, a distressed John Watson helps Sherlock Holmes on a fast paced, high profile case.

Empathy ~36k T Blind_Author 2014

John is an empath. Which isn't nearly as much fun as it sounds. Most of the time, it’s not even useful.

Given In Evidence ~98k E verityburns 2012

Coming back from the dead can be a complicated business. With a new case on the horizon, rebuilding a life is one thing... rebuilding a friendship quite another. For Sherlock and John, things may never be just the same...

The Real Meaning Of Idioms ~22k T feverishsea 2012

After two weeks away, John finally texts Sherlock. He doesn't expect Sherlock to respond. He doesn't expect Sherlock to keep texting him. And he really doesn't expect things to spiral out of control so rapidly.

The Things You Hide 10k E verityburns 2012

Sherlock and John have been working and living together for nearly a year, each finding the other's friendship to be the one thing they would not risk or want to live without. Until something happens to disturb the status quo…

(drunk)

Saving Sherlock Holmes 139k M earlgreytea68 2013

Sherlock Holmes, schoolboy. Yeah, that basically sums it up.

The Whore of Babylon Was a Perfectly Nice Girl ~33k E out_there 2010

Sherlock walks into a room and takes all the space right out of it. He does the same inside John's head.

echoes through time ~22k E chellefic 2012

Mummy sends a trunk from the Holmes cottage in Sussex to 221B. Its contents alter the way John and Sherlock see themselves and one another.

The Road Less Traveled ~75k M verityburns 2010

Sherlock realises that John's dating habits involve an unacceptable level of risk... what if he meets an unusually tolerant woman and ends up getting married?

The Heart In The Whole ~102k E verityburns 2011

Events after 'The Great Game' leave Sherlock dependent on his best friend and colleague. But John has a secret of his own...

(TBI)

Over Fathoms Deep WIP E bittergreens 2014-

When the youngest son of the aristocratic Holmes family is shipped off to sea in an attempt to cure him of his poor temper and bad manners, he fully expects to spend a long tedious voyage as miserable as ever. What he does not count on is having his heart stolen by the strapping young crewman, John Watson.

Leave the Signs and the Sirens ~25k G out_there 2012

After John's released and back home at Baker St, Sherlock still feels it. Down the centre of his chest there's an ache like a healing wound. A physical awareness of a body he usually ignores as much as he can. It's psychosomatic, nothing more interesting than that.

(PTSD)

Blame it on the Viscum album 2k T codswallop 2013

Sherlock, Christmas, and poisonous plants: what could possibly go wrong?

Midnight Blue Serenity ~152k E BeautifulFiction 2013

When Sherlock infiltrates a club in order to track down a serial killer, his altered appearance is enough to make John question his assumption that Sherlock is beyond his reach. However, is he the only one who appreciates his flatmate's charms, or is Sherlock at risk of becoming the next victim?

Speaker for the Bees ~15k M antietamfalls for feywhimsy 2014

It isn't always easy assisting a deaf detective. Luckily for John, they make a pretty good team.

(Such a lovely fic, and an accurately Sherlockian way to deal with being deaf! Whether neurodivergent, socially awkward, or uncategorizedly weird & brilliant, he'd totally end up in the same kinds of situations of having to explain or defend himself)

Dear John ~218k E BloodSeiryu, FourCornersHolmes, Tindomerelhloni 2018

An AU in which Sherlock is in Rehab and is required to write a letter to a random person in the military. John get's it, and they become penpals of a sort.

(if you read the series, mind the tags ;~;)

A Promise Made to Be Broken ~37k E PlantsAreNeat for SwissMiss 2017

A young John makes an ‘if we’re still single at 40, we’ll get together’ pledge to a woman who ends up all wrong for him. She keeps reminding him of the promise, and won't let go of it. John asks Sherlock to pose as his boyfriend at a family wedding, so as to dash her hopes permanently. Sherlock, who has at last acknowledged his feelings for John, reluctantly agrees despite knowing how painful it will be to ‘have’ John, but not keep him.

Scotland series ~346k E snorklepie 2014-2020

“A nice holiday, just a bit more...murdery. ” John said drily.

“Yes! The best kind of holiday!” Sherlock beamed. “So we won’t get bored!”

After he separates from Mary, John returns to Baker Street. Following a request for help from Sherlock's cousin Violet, the detective and his blogger take a trip to Edinburgh. John discovers more about the Holmes family and Sherlock than he bargained for, but tries not to run screaming.

(dunno why last one's marked as incomplete, the main plotlines are all resolved)

The Adventure of the Silver Scars ~142k tangledblue 2016

“All this does not mean that I’m not still basically pissed off with you. I’m very pissed off, and it will come out now and then.” –His Last Vow

It’s been thirteen months since Mary shot Sherlock and John finds he’s still pissed off about it. Sherlock had thought everything was settled: John and Mary, domestic bliss. But when John turns up at Baker Street with suitcases, the world’s only consulting detective might not be prepared for the consequences. A new case. Some old scores to settle. Certain danger. Concertos, waltzes, and whisky.

A River Without Banks ~203k E Chryse 2015

"You love this, being Sherlock Holmes."

He had once. When had it all gone so wrong?

(lyrical time travel)

Manifest ~30k E causidicus 2015

John finds Sherlock's porn. The discovery shifts the dynamic of their relationship.

(so much angst)

To Light Another's Path ~129k E BeautifulFiction 2012

Teaching John to observe seems to be a losing battle, but when Sherlock falls ill and submits himself to John's care, will he realise that there is more to life than the science of deduction? Meanwhile, there is a murder to solve, and John must try and convince Sherlock not to sacrifice his own health for the sake of the case. Eventual John/Sherlock Hurt/Comfort case fic. Post the Great Game

The Adventure of the Consulting Woman ~39k E DancingGrimm 2014

“So the plan is, you have until Saturday night to make that,” he pointed at Sherlock, “look and act convincingly like a woman, so she can go and be a damsel in distress and in so doing trap a serial murderer. Have I got that right?"

(crossdressing and a badass trans woman)

A Hesitation Waltz ~6k T UrbanHymnal 2017

He lets the vibrato speak for him: love and loss, triumph and failure, longing for water and a bit of rest after so long a journey. He would follow John into the desert, walk through fire, sacrifice to any God. He would gladly kneel at John’s feet, if only given the chance, and worship him with each breath.

---

A post-series 4 ficlet about John and Sherlock relearning one another.

The Sea in a Chasm ~18k T orphan_account 2012

When Sherlock decides to retire to Sussex, John decides to find out who he is without Sherlock.

(there's part two of lovely domestic ace retirementlock after ther that bit of angst 🤍)

The Vapor Variant ~73k M 88th Parallel (CanadaHolm) 2018

They were both gasping for air, John’s eyes locked on Sherlock’s. There was no recognition there, just wild animal fear.

Time stood still for an eternal few seconds, and Sherlock took a shaky breath. “John—”

Spell broken, John spun and bolted back into the woods.

Still heaving for air, Sherlock took off after him.

(Baskerville goes even more wrong)

A Beginner's Guide to Apiology. ~11k M VictoryCandescence 2012

John and Sherlock meet for the first time as old men in Sussex.

(with a tasteful bit of magical realism)

Two Words ~16k T amaruuk 2024

Moriarty is dead. Sherlock is about to jump. Two words change everything.

(John's also smart and calm under pressure, but that's canon, right?)

Let Me ~12k E Violsva 2014

Sherlock Holmes has suffered from insomnia all his life. When Watson realizes the extent of it, he searches for a way to comfort Holmes, and in the process confronts things neither of them have been saying.

(ACD Johnlock angst and Watson being a really really good friend)

A softening of the brain ~2k G Guava_juice 2024

“John.” The sound of my first name stopped me on my tracks; Holmes never used it, as did the costume go. “Would you be afraid,” he whispered, “to sleep in the same bed of a lunatic, a man with a softening of the brain, an idiot whose mind has lost its grip?”

This could have so many implications, so many ways to interpret it, but no matter what sense I made of it, there was only one answer. “Not in the least,” I said with some difficulty, regaining the breath I had lost before. “Sherlock, I'd never leave you.” That, I turned to regret just after it came out of my lips — too revealing.

Or... what if that scene from the canon had another meaning? One that's more... romantic.

(in the best way, this feels like a much longer fic)

Certainty ~7k M joolabee 2012

You can't kill an idea, can you? Not once it's made a home. There.

(associative river of angst)

John Watson, CEO ~10k T KittenKin 2021

Based on this gif and the following comments (though it ended up being less "trophy husband Sherlock" and more like "what if JOHN was the high-functioning sociopath?"):

"CEO John Watson and his Trophy Husband, Sherlock Holmes" - 221bloodnun "Security consultant Greg Lestrade walking ahead of them" - undun-duz

(John's so well written here; not Sherlock 2.0, but a compatible sort of broken [not that canon Sherlock & John aren't])

The Tip Over Into The Inevitable ~7k T ivyblossom 2015

When his father dies, Sherlock avoids sleeping. Then discovers he can't sleep at all. John finds a way to help.

Sensory Science ~80k E sussexbound 2019

John Watson has been invalided home from Afghanistan and is struggling with anxiety, depression, PTSD and insomnia, when an old friend from med school recommends something that might help: An ASMR YouTube Channel run by a friend.

One session in and John is hooked, not only by the way the ASMR seems to calm him after nightmares, and help him sleep, but also by the mysterious man who runs it.

(this one is a lovely AU exploration of curiosity and (mis)communication + I always love when fics mention art)

#johnlock #fic rec #bbc sherlock #sherlock bbc #johnlock fic recs #sherlock #sherlock x john #sherlock fic recs #fanfiction #fic recs #sherlock fanfic #johnlock fanfiction

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grandfatherissues-a · 1 year ago

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since i had a lot of people approach me about that partner call i put out, i thought i would compile a list of plot ideas i have just to make things easier. please keep in mind that this list will contain dark, tcboo, and problematic content so read at your own risk. if you could message me if you're interested that would be appreciated as i'm on mobile 99% of the time and i'm a sideblog so tumblr likes to dick around.

UPDATE: i've moved to @grandfatherissues so message me there if you're interested!

001. an esteemed hollywood movie director casting a disney actor / former beloved child star in a controversial and exploitative role. probably takes advantage of her excitement to work with him and/or her eagerness to shed her good-girl image and not only moulds her into his dirty on-screen fantasy, but very likely becomes obsessed with her off-screen in the process. an age gap + power difference would be preferred.

002. a cult leader teaching his daughter / sister / granddaughter / niece / new young wife what a good and obedient follower of their cause is expected to behave, dress, and speak like.

003. a prolific and hardened criminal / gang member developing a fixation for someone who isn't interested in him / his lifestyle. cue him stalking her, threatening her and her loved ones, blackmailing her, all the fun stuff until she either gives in willingly, or he just decides to take her and keep her anyway.

004. an obscenely rich man and his mail order bride / trophy bride and their life in the domestic suburbia he's carefully chosen for them. a big age gap, power differences, + some bimbofication would be preferred.

005. a family dynamic (father x daughter, brother x sister, cousins, uncle x niece, grandfather x granddaughter, etc) where they only have each other left and try to take care of each other in the best way they know how. but along the way, their relationship becomes highly co-dependent and close, and they end up developing feelings and tension they never expected.

006. a gross old trucker picking up a runaway / traveller and agreeing to take her where she needs to go, but then pulling over somewhere dark and isolated because of course he requires some sort of payment for his service.

007. a science fiction / fantasy plot where humans are enslaved by monsters or a supernatural creatures. the humans are assigned as toys for the monsters / creatures fun and pleasure, or maybe even to be bred if you want to explore that. but basically a plot where a highly virile monster / supernatural creature gets their long-awaited assigned human pet / partner / bride.

008. a hardcore adult content creator and the young amateur just looking to make a quick buck making a video together. ideally it would include rough / dark kinks but it can be something they both enjoy and continue doing, or it can be something she's really not into but keeps coming back because his audience like her and he offers her more and more money to perform.

009. a much older man (ideally at least 50+) finally deciding he wants to be a dad so going after a much younger woman to make his wishes come true. a huge age gap, daddy kink, and breeding/pregnancy would be preferred.

010. brothers / twins going after the same girl and either making it a competition who can get her first, or maybe they end up playing fair and having her at the same time instead. if they're twins, maybe one of them starts fucking / dating her but the other twin also gets to have his fun by pretending to be the other, and it's a big old fucking mess but...they end up lowkey working as a trio? idk.

011. a young woman who's curious and needy falling for / being seduced by her best friend's dad. him being all supportive and sweet to her, always offering her to stay, giving her rides home, treating her like his own daughter. but then the immediate perking up whenever she's around, the way his stare lingers too long when she's hanging out at their pool, the way he finds excuses to be around her when she's staying over for the night. can instead be a dad's best friend plot if that's preferred.

012. an only child finding out his father had a love child many years ago which was the cause of his parents divorce. and now she's around and in their lives and he lowkey resents his new sister for his mother being hurt by his father cheating and their lives being disrupted by the divorce, but he also lowkey develops an attraction to her and starts a tiny fixation that may or may not get pushed too far.

013. a guy fathered a child when he was very young himself (early to mid teens) and wasn't given contact by the mother / went to jail / the kid ended up being adopted, and now it's 18+ years later and he's finally reunited with the child he's always wondered about. but because of the smallish age gap between them in comparison to other parents and their children, and also because they're pretty much strangers getting to know each other for the first time, their dynamic leans more towards being friendly and fun at the start, and eventually develops into something romantic / sexual as they begin to spend more time together and get all their overwhelming and conflicting feelings / urges mixed up.

#indie kink rp #indie discord rp #1x1 rp #plot inspiration.

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sergeantnarwhalwrites · 2 years ago

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Green and her knife

Tag list: @ezestreet @nanashi23 @winterandwords @jezifster @kingkendrick7 @aether-wasteland-s @dumbthunder @manathen @writingpotato07 (let me know if you want to be added or removed)

Ah yes. Green's weapon of choice. Let's see who she let's actually touch it and her responses. (Yes it's actively been fuck with Green day in my head XD) Also y'all my bad I keep forgetting about tag lists.

Peace: A soft moment to start off. She trusts Peace of course, has for some time. At least when it comes to some specific things in their lives. Not saying there aren't moment's where Green loses all sense of patience if Peace touches it.

V1. Green sat on her cot, unbothered by the unforgiving creak from the bedframe. She breathed out a slow sigh. Rolling onto her stomach she let her legs hang off the bed.

Peace wandered in, snickering when she caught Green's interesting position.

"Just go to bed Green."

Green waved her off, carefully kicking off her shoes so she could just kick them below the bed. Peace rolled her eyes as she approached. She rested her hand on the woman's back, leaving it there for a few moments.

"Guess I'll take the job of getting you comfy." Peace teased a little poking at her side.

Green snorted a little but didn't move. Peace took it as an invitation, reaching around her to unbutton what she could of the woman's shirt. She then removed Green's holster, knife and all without a thought. Green unbothered, was actively drifting off.

Peace wondered if she should leave Green hanging off the bed just to fuck with her a little. But found herself lifting the woman's legs into the bed before her decision would settle.

V2. "Why the fuck are you touching my knife?" Green stood, but felt her hands quaking in rage.

"Why are all my protestors saying they saw you dismember a construction worker?" Peace asked icily calm.

Green tried to think, "Wait wait. There's this woman named Digits and we were seeing if her tech was bugged." She answered partially but truthfully.

Peace looked at Green's knife carefully, tilting the blade towards the light. Flawless, no specks. Only a smear from Peace's own fingertips.

"I'm not talking about Digits. I know who Digits is, we talk."

Green's eyes dropped to her knife, taking a large step forward, "Give me the knife back Peace."

"Stop fucking lying then Green," Noticing Green was about to comment back, "If you ask for this stupid knife back you're not endangering anymore of my protestors. They've been tired of me asking of they can help you."

Donnie: Very rarely will hand it off to them. Will usually just do the task requiring the knife for them. They've got a mutual respect for one another and both do get highly offended when either one breaks that respect.

Donnie tapped Green's shoulder. They hadn't really been alone together often. Didn't mean he didn't want to talk with her. They'd never expected a highly illuded to co-leader of a crime ring to actually be so sweet. If sweet was the word for it.

No wonder Peace thinks Green isn't a real criminal.

Green was cutting away at a solid stick. Working away at it until she got a very lopsided point. She turned her head to look back at Donnie as she put the point into the fire.

"Yeah?"

"Is it supposed to be like that?" Donnie's question came through with raised eyebrows and a gesture towards the stick Green was removing from the fire.

Green looked at the charred and somewhat hardened thing. She shrugged a little and stood.

"It'll be good enough." She scribbled something illegibaly on the smooth bark of nearby ornamental tree.

"What's this?" Donnie questioned, message glowing over his arm.

Green peaked over hearing their fingers work away. She gave that lopsided grin, tossing her knife to Donnie.

"Go get a stick and widdle it. I'll show you how a whole group of troublemakers can make it past the law."

Donnie caught it just barely, blade knicking at artificial skin. He decided to be comforted by the fact it was clean.

Hollis: No trust. Not at all. XD Green thinks she'll either lose it or chip the blade. Or slice her hand open.

"Green let me use your knife to pop the back off this?" Hollis asked already knowing the answer.

"Fuck no."

"Green come on!"

"You literally have a magical screwdriver. And you also are damn there blind! I will not be blamed for you slicing your hand open."

"Magical is a stretch." Hollis stated finding a giggle slip past.

Green huffed and pushed Hollis out of the way. She shoved her knife into an exposed bit of wires on a troublesome maintenance bot. The lights on the machine blinked out, appearing dead.

"You're welcome let's move." Green grabbed Hollis's wrist and pulled her along.

The bot whirred and slammed into the wall. Before it began to blindly chase after them.

"Why would I thank you for this? Hmmm?! I had to literally kill a specific component and snip the right connectors."

"You were moving to slow!" Green managed to yell through pants.

Digits: Digits is trustworthy but because of how close she gets with Hollis. She will refuse to hand it off without questioning her first.

Green held a sharpening stone in her hand tending to the weapon almost obsessively. Peace had tried to break the woman's concentration a couple times now and had given up.

"Damn your knife can hold an edge." Digits complemented moving in a little closer.

"Yeah it's got to be to effectively take on fucking metal. People are fragile but it's so much easier to get shit done with a good tool."

"Can I test it?"

Green lifted her eyes from her work, grunting a little.

"On what? Cause I'm gonna test it on you and Hollis if you give it to her." Green pressed the tip of the knife to her tongue to show just how sharp it was.

Green's tongue bled freely, only contained because of the small area she used. She spat blood in Digit's direction, looking her up and down.

Digits slid away disgusted, "Sorry Hollis!"

"Come on!" Hollis called out from a far.

"Look, I tried!" Digits slowly stood and gave a single nod and wave to Green letting her be.

#writeblr #robots & gardens #random writes #<- I guess?

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grandfatherissues · 1 year ago

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repost from my sideblog but needed it in the tags here:

002. a cult leader teaching his daughter / sister / granddaughter / niece / new young wife what a good and obedient follower of their cause is expected to behave, dress, and speak like.

012. an only child finding out his father had a love child many years ago which was the cause of his parents divorce. and now she's around and in their lives and he resents his new sister for his mother being hurt by his father cheating and their lives being disrupted by the divorce, but he also lowkey develops an attraction to her and begins a fixation that may or may not get pushed too far.

#plot inspiration.#wanted plot.

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charliedawn · 4 years ago

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Imagine being in a hate love relationship with Peter Hale

Warning : attempt of rape

You were on Peter duty..Again. Since Peter Hale was the man that everybody feared, it had been decided that you would be the one keeping an eye on the overly fool-of-himself werewolf with the power of your mighty patience. Scott and Stiles stop in front of Derek's loft and he jogs out to meet you.

" Thanks Y/N. I owe you one !"

He says with a grateful smile and you smile back.

" Big time. But come on, you three go hunt whatever creature you have to hunt and I'll stay to take care of Mr Smarty-pants up there !"

You say enthusiastically and they all smile apologetically at you, knowing how the two of you were not exactly on friendly terms.

" Be careful, okay ? And tell him that if he touches you, I'll kick his ass !"

Stiles says confidently, which makes you laugh.

" Don't worry, Stiles. If there is any problem, I'll call you guys immediately and plus, I have a way to take care of moody children.."

You tell him with a mysterious smile and Stiles nods understandingly.

" I know..Just, stay safe."

And with that last warning, they are all out of here. As soon as they are out of your sight, your smile leaves your face and you sigh loudly before turning towards the building and whisper to yourself.

" Welp..Here we go.."

As soon as you enter, you smell something burning and see the stove on fire. You run towards it and take a glass from the cupboard to fill it with water in order to stop the fire. When you're done, you are panting because of the effort and look murderously at Peter that is sitting calmly on the couch, as if nothing had happened.

You glare at him while he doesn't even raise his eyes from his book.

" Let me guess..You couldn't smell the smoke ?"

You ask annoyed and only then does he look up at you with a small mischievous smile.

" Aren't you supposed to be the one keeping me out of harm's way ? You are here to keep me from doing anything stupid, not the other way around..I create chaos and you're here to stop me. Do your job and stop whining."

You grit your teeths in anger before sitting on the couch, as far away from Peter as possible. You can't believe the nerve of this man that was ready to burn the entire flat only to prove a point !

" I don't know why you're so eager to unnerve me. Does it entertain you ? Would it kill you to be nice and helpful from time to time ?"

You ask while taking a nearby book and starting reading yourself, not really interested in his answer that you knew would not be anything but upsetting.

" I'm the spark that lits your fire, sweetheart..Try to let go sometimes, you would actually enjoy it. Why don't you try to be less of a killjoy ?"

You raise an eyebrow at that before returning to your book and replying nonchalantly.

" Have you ever considered, even for only a moment, that I simply don't like you ?"

He fakes being offended by putting his hand above his heart and widening his eyes dramatically at you.

" Oh darling ! Me who thought that you were about to ask my hand in marriage ?! How disappointing ?!"

You snort.

" Hard pass."

He sighs in false disappointment before taking his coat and walking towards the exit.

" And where do you think you're going ?"

You ask with an eyebrow arked in curiosity.

" Out."

He answers simply before opening the door. You sigh before taking your coat and running after him.

" Didn't Derek warn you that I am allowed to use silver bullets if you disobey me ?"

He scoffs before shrugging, not bothering waiting for you.

" I'm going to get a beer, not kill a bunch of innocent virgins.."

He winks at you cheekily before stepping inside the bar that was the nearest to the apartment. You role your eyes at his comment before entering the bar after him.

You look around and are amazed to see that the place wasn't as bad as you had previously thought. It had good background music and not a lot of customers, besides a couple of drunk friends who were talking in whispers at their table. However, Peter isn't visible and you sigh again before walking towards the counter to ask the bartender if he had any idea of where your irresponsible dog had run off to. You sit down and attract the attention of the bartender by raising your hand. He walks towards you and leans in to listen to your order.

" A soda, please."

He arks an eyebrow at you, nearly amused, before turning around and getting out what you asked.

" Are you sure you don't want anything else ? Anything stronger ?"

He says while eyeing your bottle of soda warily, as if it was an insult to his establishment for you to order such a drink. You smile, tempted beyond reason, but then remember that you had a werewolf to find.

" Sorry. Can't. I'm on the job. By the way, have you seen a man ? Sarcastic. Arrogant. Energic. Tall. Very annoying. Awfully blond. Seen him anywhere ?"

He looks suspiciously at you before asking in a slightly worried and even threatening voice.

" You're a cop ?"

You can't help but laugh bitterly at the question before replying.

" You could say that. But I am only responsible of one criminal, and the only crime he committed is to not have messed up my night, yet.."

He smirks when he understands the irony in your tone and was about to answer when someone puts his hand on your shoulder. You turn around to see a very smug Peter with a huge grin.

" Oh ! Look at that ! The overly confident puppy is finally back ! What ? Got lost on the way ?"

You ask sarcastically and he only humphs in response before sitting next to you, the grin not leaving his face.

" Why ? Missed me ?"

You scoff before taking a sip of your drink.

" As much as a needle in my heel..But, if Derek was to find out that I've let you out of your cage, he would have my head.."

He wraps his arm around your shoulders and makes you spill your drink a little over yourself.

" Aww..You do care ! My cold heart warms at the thought of the packs brat worrying about me !"

You groan in annoyance before biting his hand off. He hisses in pain before retrieving his hand and massaging it while glaring at you from the corner of his eyes. Just at that moment, the bartender comes back to get Peter's order and eyes Peter suspiciously before looking back at you with an inquisitive glance, asking discreetly if you needed an escape. You could have laughed if it wasn't so sad. Peter was such a nuisance that people were now wondering if he was the one bothering you, when in fact it was the opposite. However Peter, that had not missed the silent conversation, growls when the bartender gives him a warning side glance. But, not intimidated the nearest, Peter smirks a toothy grin at the bartender before showing his bitten hand.

" Careful. The brat bites. I've seen what it is capable of, first hand..literally. Don't worry, if you should be worried about anyone around here, it's everyone else besides her."

He cautioned and the bartenders eyes widen at the mark that would certainly have left a scar if he was a normal human being while you snicker in your corner. The bartender quickly runs towards his other customers at the far end of the bar, leaving you two in your sudden awkward solitude.

" Well..Isn't he a gentleman ? Thinking you need saving from me. Not even considering that I could be the abused one in this relationship ? How rude !"

You try to stifle a laugh. Unfortunately, he hears you and smirks proudly at his small victory.

" I'm not the psychopath that tried to murder a bunch of teenagers just because I wanted to become the big bad alpha.."

You taunt while giving him an amused side glance. He groans in annoyance as you make him remember his past and he gulps down his whiskey, an attempt to make him forget faster.

" Aren't you a delight ?! Playing unfair by spreading out the touchy subjects like that..No wonder Stiles rejected you. You would have chomped his lips off !"

You glare at him as he talks about Stiles before replying harshly.

" Says the man whose only date was Scott's mom, and that was to trap him ! You're so terrible that nobody could stand being with you more than 5 minutes without hating you ! I would tell you to go to hell, but it would be unfair on Satan !"

He chuckles at that last part and you take your drink in order to take a sip and calm your nerves, but grimace at the awful taste. You had asked for a soda, but it tasted more like salt with water..He cackles at your expression before whispering mockingly in your ear with false concern.

" Oh ! What ? Ain't sweet enough for you, sweetheart ?"

You only raise a very distinctive finger at him, warning him that one more word from him would result in extreme pain and look around the room to distract yourself from his presence..and from the fact that you were his entitled babysitter. Your eyes wander and finally settle on the nice bartender that winks at you when you meet his gaze. You blush slightly before smiling back at him. He wasn't bad-looking and everything would be better than bantering with the overly sarcastic and confident werewolf that couldn't seem to leave you be. You were about to stand up and walk towards the cute bartender when suddenly, a hand raises to lay on your shoulder and pin you down to your seat. You were about to complain and even yell at Peter when you hear him growl from deep withing him while he shoots a dirty glare at the poor young man. You frown in incomprehension and grit your teeths in annoyance, thinking it was one of his attention seeking gesture. You then take his hand and force him to let go of you to walk towards the exit. Here you go again, you couldn't even enjoy your night without having to take care of the sulky werewolf. You soon hear his footsteps behind you and when he is about to grab your arm, you turn around abruptly and glare at him with such seriousness that it freezes him on the spot.

" How about you and your insanity stay the heck away from me ?! I'm so tired of your bullshit, Peter ! Why can't you just leave me alone ?!"

At your harsh words, Peter's gaze hardens and he retracts his hand to only smirk at you and tilt his head a little bit to the side, as if he didn't understand the question.

" Oh darling..I would love to ! But, you see, it seems that me and my insanity are often required to solve your friend's little problems !"

Suddenly, unnerved beyond belief and having had more than enough of him, you feel tears threatening to spill from your eyes and yell at him, so loud that it surprises the werewolf himself.

" Leave me alone ! Why am I the only one who always has to handle you?! Why do you always ask Derek for me to keep you, even though you don't even like me ?! If I'm such a bother, why not just get rid of me ?!"

He doesn't seem to be able to find an answer and you don't even let him reply. You start running until you reach a small and dark alley. When you're sure you are far enough for the werewolf not to hear you cry, you crouch down and start sobbing. When you've spilt all of your frustration and sadness out, you wipe your face with your sleeve and stand up to get back home. However, when you are about to leave the alley-way, you see someone else blocking the exit. You first think that it's Peter, but the more you approach the individual, the more you have to admit that it doesn't look like Peter. You try to walk past him, but he brusquely grabs your arm and throws you to the ground. You want to get your phone out of your purse, but the man stomps on your hand and you scream in pain. The man takes you by the jaw and forces you to look up at him. His disgusting breath hitting your face, smelling of alcool and his evil smirk making you want to puke even more.

" Aren't ya a sweat ass ? Tell me, what does a young lady like yourself doing here by herself in the middle of the night, hmm ?"

You want to scream for help again, but another individual behind you puts his hand against your mouth to muffle your screams and you feel the familiar shape of a knife against your throat. When you know that there is nothing else you can do, you close your eyes and try to stop the new tears from leaving your eyes..You didn't want to cry for those men, they didn't deserve your tears..

" Now..You're going to be a good girl and let us take care of you, okay ?"

The one posted behind you whispers in your ear and you clench your jaw, your last thought going to Peter. You had been awful to him, even though you knew he wasn't a bad person..You had let out your frustration on him and you were now regretting it bitterly. You should have sticked to your job and stay with him. If you had, maybe you wouldn't be in your current situation. Reality hits you hard when you feel one of the men starting to open your blouse. When you thought that that was it, that you were going to be raped in that dirty alley-way and probably killed, you hear the hurried footsteps of someone running towards your location. You want to scream again, but the knife is raised once again against your throat.

" One peep and nobody will even find your body.."

You whimper and nod in understanding. The footsteps stop and you hold your breath.

" Sweetheart ? Are you there ?"

You hear the familiar voice of Peter and feel relieved to know that he is near. However, the man whispers instructions in your ear and you can't help but nod in agreement, knowing that he wouldn't hesitate to slice your throat if you were to disobey.

" You're going to tell him to go away, that you don't want him to come any closer..I know what he is and the knife is made of silver and has been dipped in wolfsbane for a while..Don't play smart or you'll lose more than your life.."

He uncovers your mouth and you respond in a shaky voice.

" G..Go away, Peter..I don't want you near me ! I hate you !"

You bit to your inner cheek, wondering if he would insist or know that something is wrong. You know that even if he was to guess that something is wrong, you couldn't afford to lose him as well..However, you hear him take a step towards you and sniff the air. He suddenly growls animalistically and his eyes light up in the dark.

" I can smell the stench of two putrid little humans that shouldn't be touching what isn't theirs.."

You start panicking, knowing that he could die if he was to step any closer and yell in a last attempt to protect him.

" Don't, Peter ! They've got wolfsbane ! Run !"

One of the men muzzles you again, but Peter doesn't step back. He gets his claws out and snarls.

" Alright boys. Let's rumble."

The two men stand up and face Peter that doesn't seem scared. He doesn't keep his eyes off them while they circle him. The man with the knife tries to attack him first, but Peter grabs his arm and tears it off from the rest of his body. The man screams in agony, but Peter slashes his throat before turning towards the other man that is shaking with terror.

" What ?! You are brave enough to attack a defenseless woman, but not enough to fight a werewolf ?!"

He roars and the man suddenly gets out a gun that he points at Peter. Before he could react, the man shoots and the bullet goes through his abdomen. Peter falls on his knees and the man runs away, leaving you and him behind. You force yourself to get up and crouch down in front him to see that the wound is not closing itself.

" Wolfsbane bullet.."

He affirms what you already suspected and you have to take deep breathes in order not to panic. You know what to do, you had seen Derek do it a thousand time already. You need to cauterize the wound. You close your eyes and try to calm yourself before trying to carry him back home. When you finally enter the building after a few grunts and moans of pain from the both of you, you lay Peter down on the couch and look around for something hot enough to burn the poison. Suddenly, your eyes fall on a blowtorch and when Peter understands what you were thinking about, he looks pitifully up at you.

" I have a very bad tolerance to pain."

He warns you, a warning that sounds more like a desperate plea for you to reconsider your plan..But you know that you don't have much time and address him a silent apology with your eyes before taking the handle of your purse and make him bite down on it.

" This is gonna hurt. Bad. But, I'm going to try to be as fast as I can, okay ?"

His nostrils flare in fear for the pain to come, but he nods in agreement and you take a big shaky breath before using the blowtorch. As soon as the fire gets in contact with his skin, Peter visibly whitens, his eyes flash blue and you can see his claws digging in the soft material of the couch. You don't know what to do to attenuate the pain, so you do the first thing that comes to mind to distract him..You kiss him. His eyes widen perceptibly at your action, but he doesn't hesitate before burying his hands in your hair and reciprocating the kiss, even though the handle of your purse forms some kind of barrier between you and him. When you take a step back, he seems more relax and you glance down at his wound before switching off the blowtorch. You are relieved when you see the wound closing and smile widely at him. But, before you could truly process what was happening, Peter had gotten rid of your purse and had bounced on top of you to pin you to the floor and kiss you passionately again.

" Stiles doesn't deserve you..Nobody does..Nobody needs you like I do..Nobody can handle me the way you do..I don't want them to take you away from me..Stay with me..If you leave, I'll lose my fucking mind.."

He mutters between each breath he takes while kissing you and you blush vividly at his words. He looks up at you with his bright blue eyes and you can't help but smile up at him before kissing him back yourself and petting the top of his head appreciatively.

" You damn nut job, if you wanted me that bad, why didn't you tell me ? Instead of making me lose my mind.."

He grins before nuzzling your neck and wrapping his arms around your waist.

" Because I like when you get mad.."

You chuckle before returning his embrace.

" Bad pup.."

" Stiles lover"

You ark an eyebrow at the odd insult before replying teasing.

" Does that mean I won't be able to go back to his place and sleep on his couch ? Do I have to remind you that I live with him ?"

He tightens his hold on you and grumbles tiredly against your ribcage.

" Over my dead body. The only thing you will be allowed to sleep on from now on is me, got it ?"

You seem dumbfounded for a second and Peter picks on your uneasiness before laughing and looking up at you with a sly smile.

" Not what I meant, you pervert."

You blush a deep red and hit him on the back of the head playfully.

" Hey ! You're the one always insinuating things !"

He genuinely smiles at you before lowering his chin on your belly and tilting his head to look at you with fake innocence.

" I'm not the one who kissed me.."

You sigh, it was becoming a competition, like many things with him. You sit back up and make him fall at the same time.

" Yeah ?! Well, you were badly injured..and you reciprocated !"

You don't know why you wanted to defend yourself, you just know that you can't allow yourself to succomb for the man that had nearly killed all of your friends. Plus, you had just been attacked and were too weak to make any decisions. He seems to notice your worry and takes a step back immediately to get up and extend his hand towards you.

" I'm sorry. You helped me and I was being an idiot. You need to get some rest. Come on."

You look at his hand for a few seconds before slipping your hand in his. He yanks you upwards and proceeds to carry you back to your room where he lays you down on your bed. He leaves the room promptly afterwards, mumbling a small goodnight before walking out. When you're sure he is truly gone, you curl up into a ball and try to muffle your sobs. You couldn't sleep, every time you would close your eyes, their hands were there, touching you and making you feel as if you were weak..So weak..You whimper and cry as silently as you can until someone opens the door suddenly and blinding light surrounds the room. You turn around to see Peter standing there, his eyes glowing with such an intense color that it shocks you, you then notice the slight rise of his shoulders at each of his heavy breathing and finally, his lips curled and teeths grinding in rage.

" I should have killed them both..I should have never left you.."

You open your eyes wide at the realization, he had probably heard you and was reacting to your emotions. He approaches slowly and tenderly strokes your cheek, placing his forehead against yours.

" I'm so sorry, darling.."

You feel as if he's been crying too and step back. He seems to be hurt by your sudden distance, but you quickly indicate the spot next to you.

" Come on, I need a bed warmer."

His eyes light up like a happy puppy and he crawls next to you in order to cuddle you, making sure that you are comfortable every step of the way. You sigh in contempt before feeling sleep slowly taking over your tired body. Just before you fall asleep however, you mumble sleepily at Peter.

" You were right..I won't be able to sleep when you're not there anymore..You're too good of a bed warmer.."

You feel him chuckle behind you and smile as you realize that being best bud with Peter wouldn't be so bad..and maybe with time, a bit more.

The next day :

Derek finds the both of you on the sofa: you reading a book out loud, and Peter with his arms wrapped around you, listening attentively.

" So, I guess the babysitting went better than our stake out last night ?"

He asks, amused by your sudden friendliness towards each other. You look up at him with a small smile while Peter chuckles against your ear, the sound alone making you feel things you shouldn't be.

" Best of friends, aren't we, sweetheart ?"

Instead of answering his question, you try to change the subject.

" What happened to the stake out then ? I thought you were supposed to catch a couple of bounty hunters ?"

Derek shakes his head before shrugging his shoulders.

" I know, but when we got there, there was only one of them, and he was screaming that his friend had been murdered by another werewolf in town..I wonder if there are any others like us that we've not yet been in contact with ?"

At his explanation, you feel a lump forming in your throat, but when you were about to tell him what happened last night, Peter beats you to it.

" Funny, your description of the scene exactly matches what happened to me last night.."

Derek frowns before looking up at Peter with his jaw clenched.

" I thought I was pretty clear when I said stay put ?"

He glares at Peter, but then his eyes shift to you.

" And you, where were y..?"

But before he could finish his sentence, Peter cuts him again.

" Asleep. I waited for her to fall asleep before going out. Poor humans, can't manage a night without craving sleep.."

You look up at him with your mouth wide open, ready to deny everything he just said when you see him wink at you..He wasn't trying to make you look bad at your job, he was trying to save you the embarrassment. You close your mouth as fast as you had opened it and turn around towards Derek that was looking at you with an eyebrow raised, waiting for your confirmation. You nod and he sighs.

" Maybe it was a bad idea to leave you alone with him, you're still young and he's had plenty of experience when it comes to get what he wants..I'll ask Scott or Stiles next time."

You feel the lump in your throat slowly making its way to your stomach and your expression twists into one of pain and regret.

" No !"

To the surprise of everyone in the room, including yourself, you're the one who just shouted your disagreement. Derek frowns again before crossing his arms and waiting impatiently for an explanation while Peter only tightens his grip around you, a silent warning as to what you are about to say. You take a big breath before glancing up at Derek and saying in a calm and unfaltering voice.

" This is my job. I'm part of the pack. It's bad enough that I'm completely useless when it comes to working on the field, I can't let my only participation in all this go to someone else. I made a mistake, it won't happen again."

Derek seems to believe you, even though he shakes his head in hesitation.

" I don't know, Y/N..I was allowing this to continue since it seemed to work..But, Peter succeeded in complicating things, again."

He emphasizes on the last word while staring at Peter accusatively. Peter flashes an innocent grin at him before agreeing with you.

" I promise to behave from now on. Please, dad ? Can I please keep my plaything ? It gets lonely around here when you're all running around, chasing your own tails over and over.."

You elbow him as a warning, but Derek is already shooting daggers in his direction, on the verge of growling in annoyance. Fortunately, Derek succeeds in keeping his cool and only sighs in defeat before walking away.

" Fine. But, I warn you, one more mistake and I'll personally kick you out.."

" Can't do that, chief. It's my house !"

Peter answers with a big shit-eating grin, but Derek frowns at him before looking straight at you.

" I was talking to you, Y/N..I can't allow you to become a weakness, we've got already too many and Peter is the master of manipulation, dont fall for his tricks. It's a warning, let it be not a premonition."

And with those last words, he is gone. You both stay still for a moment until you decide to stand up and make yourself a cup of coffee. The words of Derek are swirling around in your mind and you glance at Peter when you think he's not looking..Were you really just another pawn in his mastermind plan to bring down the pack ? He seems to feel your stare and points it out.

" If I didn't know you the way I do, I'd say that you actually believe this idiot.."

" Why did you protect me ?"

You ask him abruptly, still not sure about what to make of last night's rescue. He seems to thinks about it for a while before answering you with such honesty that it surprises you.

" Because there was no reason for me to talk about it..Unlike what you all think of me, I'm not such a monster. I feel no satisfaction in a young girl's life being ruined by such macabre events. I care about you more than any of the other dumb teenagers of your group, even my own cousin. You're nice, kind, smart and you don't judge. You never told me that what I did was despicable or that I didn't deserve to live. You did what you had to do and tried the best you could to help. I agree that we have had our disagreements, but it was always playful and never really serious. Why would I ever want anything bad like this to happen to you when you're the only person who ever believed that I could become an ally ? Tell me, how many people do you think ever read to me or felt safe in my arms ? Not even my own family ever believed I could change..So, yes. I protected you, because you would have done the same thing for me. Your strength remains in your humanity, Y/N. Stiles may be the voice of reason, but you're the voice of mercy.."

You are awestruck by the words that seem to be tumbling out of his lips and surround you like the warmest of blankets. You would be happy to listen to him all day. You genuinely smile at him and, before you could stop yourself, you kiss him. He relaxes under your touch and wraps his arms around you to close the gap between the both of you. He finally breaks the kiss and laughs softly before adding.

" You also have very nice lips.."

You playfully punch his torso before laying down on top of him, finding the rhythm of his heartbeat oddly soothing.

" You're a jerk..But you're still a good person.."

You whisper while closing your eyes and you can hear him snicker above you.

" Congratulations, you just qualified me with two opposites. Jerk and good normally don't go together."

You don't answer, already snoring softly on his torso. He smiles sweetly at the sight before kissing the top of your head.

" Sweet dreams, darling.."

#peter hale #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf #derek hale #peter hale x reader

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winchester90210 · 5 years ago

Text

The BH 90210 Rewrite. 1x20: Spring Training.

Rewrite Masterlist

Read the previous chapter here!

Chapter Summary: Alongside Brandon, you take a dive into the world of little league.

Word count: 2,000

Warnings: Swearing, brief mention of violence. Also... I know nothing about baseball.

A/N: Hi everyone! Hope you enjoy this week’s episode! Took an extra week off to focus on my mental health and am feeling much better with everything now. I hope you guys are as excited as the next chapter as I am! It’s almost time for the spring dance :)

My work is to not be reposted/republished, and/or edited without my expressed written consent. (Reblogging is great and encouraged!!)

Feedback is very appreciated and encouraged!! :)

"With my dad laid up, we need all the help we can get. We’re practicing today if either of you want to join in on the festivities," Brandon persuades the two of you as you round the corner of the Peach Pit to sit at your usual booth. The familiar scent of pie crust and burgers fills the air, instantly putting your soul at ease.

"Thanks… but no thanks, slim," Dylan rejects him, sliding into the seat opposite of you while Brandon follows suit.

"Dylan, I thought you were a total baseball freak!" You tell him.

"I am, but listening to these parents berate their kids from the sidelines all day long," he shakes his head, cringing, "Brings back a whole slew of bad memories."

"But it shouldn't be about the parents!" Brandon protests, "It should be about being on a team, learning fundamentals, having a good time!"

"That's very noble, Brandon. But when I was playing? It was about winning at any cost necessary.” Dylan argues. Brandon sighs in defeat, looking to you.

"What about you, Y/N/N?"

"Not a chance,” you laugh.

"What? Why not?"

"Brandon… me and 20 kids, in an extremely competitive state? Did you learn nothing from the summer of '85?" You jest. Brandon chuckles at your extreme rejection, sliding a laminated menu your way.

"Wait… what happened in '85?" Dylan's eyes flicker cluelessly between the two of you, awaiting an explanation.

"Look, it was no big deal. Things got a little heated during one of Eric's little league games," you shrug dismissively, flipping through the Peach Pit's menu as if you didn't get the same thing every time.

"She beat up a nine-year-old,” Brandon quips.

“I didn’t beat up a—“ you pause, taking in a breath. “To put it simply I… put a kid back in his rightful place. He was picking on my brother, nothing happened that he didn't deserve."

“What’d you do, tackle him out on the field?” Dylan lifts his eyebrows, amused smile on his face.

“No, of course not!” You duck your head back into your menu, mumbling, “I went out there and hit him in the groin with his bat.”

The kids run out into the field, taking their positions with their needed equipment in hand. You lean back onto the warm metal fence, slipping a pair of sunglasses over your eyes to get a better look at Nat’s team. Without the glaring sun in your eyes.

“This is pathetic!” A young boy, adorned in a bright yellow Dukes uniform comes hurdling out from behind the fence to join Brandon and Steve. “They’re not even wearing uniforms!”

“So what?” Brandon shrugs, voice hardened, “It’s a practice game.” Steve leans into Brandon to whisper something to him, but since he lacks the levels of common decency that most people acquire by the age of five, he talks loud enough for the whole team to hear.

“They don’t look so good, Brandon.”

“It’s okay. They came to play, that’s the important thing.” Man… sometimes Brandon felt too good to be true. You’re convinced there has to be a catch at this point. Gorgeous, smart, great with kids. What’s next? He opens up an animal sanctuary for underprivileged strays? Buys a soup kitchen? “Listen up, you guys. The way you treat your competition is a direct comment on how you play the game. Good sportsmanship counts big time with me and my old man…” as he continues to ramble on, your thoughts begin to shift elsewhere. Like how good he looks. It’s purely criminal for anyone to look so hot in yellow. It’s an inherently unattractive color. Yet, there he is—coaching children in the blazing heat, instilling them with good sportsmanship, and all you want to do is to get him to yourself. That bastard. You shake it off, chalking it up to teenage hormones, and try to focus on the game.

“Hey doofus! You really eat toads!” The same kid whining about uniforms earlier is now directing all of his pent up privilege and ten-year-old angst towards the poor, sweet, small child from Nat's team, the Pitts, further solidifying your desire to never procreate.

“You’ll throw it better next time, Manny!” Nat encourages the little boy wholeheartedly, clapping for him as loudly as he can.

“Hey Corey! Throw it to the doofus, he’s a real toad!” Does this kid only know two insults? The smaller brunette, the less athletically gifted child hangs his head, kicking sand around the base plate in frustration. Brandon takes note of it, immediately bounding out into the middle of the game.

“Time out! Crawford, get in the game for Noah!” His voice is stern, and as he approaches the boy he’s in total coach mode. It’s kinda hot... Well, it’s not your fault baseball’s boring. Gotta keep yourself entertained somehow.

Steve stops Randy Crawford from going out from the fence with the back of his hand, and going after Brandon himself, sand slipping from under his shoes. You can’t hear what they're saying but you know it’s not the happiest conversation. Knowing them, you know exactly how this is playing out. You don’t even need to hear them. You can see Steve furrow his brows from the sidelines, and Brandon’s gesticulating with his hands wildly as they talk but can’t make out any words that are flying from their mouths. Brandon, the moral center of Los Angeles wants Noah out for being a little jerk. Steve, being Steve, would probably rather keep the better player in than save the self esteem of a little boy before it’s too late and it no longer exists. It’s not long until Brandon pats Steve hard on the shoulder, storming off the field in a blur of sand and sweat.

Well, that’s your cue to leave, isn't it? You go to follow Brandon out, but Steve stops you short.

“That boyfriend of yours is a total Boy Scout,” he spits.

“Well, someone’s gotta be," You scoff, eyes rolling, ”They’re just kids, Steve! This isn’t Major League Baseball. There’s no trophy, there’s no prize. There’s absolutely nothing at stake here. What they need to be doing is having fun, and while that snot-nosed little jerk is out there on the field, they’re all gonna be miserable.”

You flop down onto Dylan's couch, feet up on the armrest as he grabs a soda from the fridge and parks himself on the ottoman beside you. You exhale, eyes fluttering shut for a moment.

"Rough day out with the little leaguers?"

"Rough day out with Steve," you snort. “I’m so used to being around Brandon I forget that people like Steve Sanders even exist.”

“Come on, Steve isn't that bad."

"Dylan, you're talking about the guy that got carjacked by a girl he was trying to hook up with, and still bailed her out of jail--despite the fact she robbed him justminutes before--in the hopes of getting laid, only for her to steal his wallet." Dylan's face screws in a mix of amusement and total disbelief.

"Okay, so he's that bad," Dylan laughs. "Sorry to break it to you, Y/N/N, but not everyone is a part of the illustrious Walsh family."

"Not everyone can be," you tease. He gently tosses you a throw pillow from the chair across the room, and you use it to prop up your head. "It’s a tragedy.”

“See, what did I tell you? Isn’t he sweet? Isn’t he great?” Brenda watches as you comb through the stray dog’s long gray fur. He really is cute… wet black nose, shaggy gray hair, big puppy dog eyes. But you can’t keep him. “I think he likes you!”

“Bren, as much as I’d love to take this puppy home, my parents would kill me!"

“Just take him for a trial run, and if you like him, keep him!”

“Bren—“

“Please?”

“Bren—“

“Come on!” She pleads.

“Fine! Okay, okay. I’ll see if we can take him in tomorrow night,” you concede, giving the dog one last pat on the head. Brenda squeals happily, a grin on her face as she wraps her arms around you.

“He’s great! You’ll love him!”

"Fine. See you later... Wally."

The four of you watch silently, perched up at the counter of the Peach Pit as Nat's baseball team chows down on slices of pepperoni pizza. We've got Nat to your far left, wondering how the hell they're going to survive against the team from Beverly Hills, then we've got Dylan to your left debating on whether to finally help Nat and shack up with the struggling team, Brandon to your right who hasn't lifted his hand from your upper thigh this whole time which is seriously distracting, and you, wondering how such little boys could devour so much pizza in so little time.

"You know the improvement from one week to the next is remarkable." You mumble.

"Oh yeah… the kids are showing a lot of promise." Brandon nods absentmindedly, bringing his cup to his lips.

"But…" Dylan begins, "you still need a pitcher that can put the ball over the plate."

"Yeah," Nat sighs, "but win or lose, the most important thing is how good the kids feel about themselves." He's trying to convince you, but the more he talks the more you know he's trying to convince himself.

"Absolutely." You agree.

"Totally." Brandon nods.

"Yeah, I mean, in the long run that's all that counts," Dylan shrugs, his voice coated with scepticism.

"Absolutely." Brandon concurs.

"Totally…” You say. “Y’know, I was talking to Andrea about this and she knows a pretty great player from the valley."

They all turn their heads, slowly, with Nat glancing from you to the phone. You roll your eyes at the boys, making your way over to the payphone. The group watches with bated breath behind you as you slip in the quarters and dial her number, waiting for her to pick up.

"Hello?"

"Andrea, hi! Listen, uh, do you remember the other day? You told me you knew some kid in the valley who was a major blue-chip little leaguer?"

"Oh, yeah! Avery?"

"Yeah… Avery." You twist your head back, giving them a smile and a thumbs up.

"What's Dylan doing? Bringing in a ringer?" Steve scoffs, twisting the metal bat in his hand as he cleans it. You exchange knowing smirks with Brandon as Dylan helps Avery get ready on the sidelines. She takes off her ball cap, releasing the foot of long brunette pony-tailed hair. Gasps are heard from center field, seemingly originating from Noah. Shocker.

"Oh my god! Dude, it's a girl!" He laughs out, adjusting his cap against the wind.

"Poor Dylan, he's really scraping the bottom of the barrel, huh?" Oh, if only you and that misogynistic head of yours knew, Steve-O. And surprise, surprise—Every pitch she's involved in ends up in a home run for the Pitts.

And little by little, much to your joy, Steve is getting progressively more aggravated— tapping feet, flaring nostrils, bugged-out eyes. You’re beginning to like baseball.

Eventually you make your way over to Brenda, off by the sidelines. You watch as they send Davey from the Dukes out, and Manny, the small, athletically challenged boy from the Pitts, isn’t far behind. Brandon perks up, calling a timeout to give what you can only assume is another one of his infamous Brandon talks to his team. After a moment the team breaks up, moving into their correct positions and as Manny chokes up on his bat ready to pitch. You cringe, hiding your face in your hand.

But it's nothing short of a miracle as Davey throws the ball. It makes contact with Manny's bat, soaring across the field as he jets off across the bases. The catcher from the Dukes runs for the ball, tripping over his own foot and skidding across the grass. The whole team erupts into ecstatic cheers, rushing out and lifting Manny onto their shoulders. You know that Davey blew the pitch for him, you’ve seen him pitch a hundred times. But seeing the joy on that little boy's face, you knew that it didn't matter.

"Poor kid," Brenda sighs, looking out to the opposite direction to Randy Crawford, the catcher that landed face-first into the grass. "I mean, he really gave it his best-- Wally!"

"Wally? Bren, what're you-- oh my god! That is Wally!" Off in the distance, you can see the gray ball of hair hurdling towards the baseball diamond.

"That's not Wally! That's Rupert! It's my dog, he's back!" Randy gasps, watching in amazement as his shaggy mutt runs across the crowds and into his open arms.

"Hey uh," Brandon comes to greet you, but is looking out into the field as well, "isn't that supposed to be your dog, Y/N/N?"

"No, Brandon," Brenda shakes her head, light smile lacing her lips. "I guess that's Randy's dog…" You sigh, but seeing the little boy giggle with glee as Wally-- er, Rupert, laps at his cheek, there's no troubling emotions to be found.

"I'm sorry, Y/N/N," Brandon laces his fingers with yours, grabbing your attention with a soft kiss to your temple.

"I'm not," you assure him. You smile, the sight of the boy reuniting with his long lost dog something straight out of a movie scene. One last look and you turn away from the boy, eyes meeting your boyfriend’s. “Hey, Brandon... have a date for that dance yet?”

Taglist: @be-patient-be-good @mpmarypoppins @bevelyhills90210 @blueoz @princess-ghost-alien @hueycat2004 @l4life @keepcalm-and-beyou @isthatabutterfly @rosy-pugs @thewalshess

#beverly hills 90210 #bh90210 #90210 #brandon walsh x reader #jason priestley x reader #beverly hills 90210 imagine #90210 imagine #brandon walsh #jason priestley #steve sanders #ian ziering #gif is mine #dylan mckay #luke perry #90s fanfiction #90s x reader

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