#the last two lines were straight up murder. crying shaking biting my fist | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

chocolateheart · 4 years ago

Text

Door number 12

Title: Door Number 12

Word count: 7937 (I know, I'm sorry)

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: A noisy neighbour is bringing you a lot of emotions. What if this bubbling tension and frustration will finally find their way out?

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected sex (please, wrap it before you tap it), creampie, fingering, handjob, pinning to the wall, clothes tearing, biting, scratching, a lot of kissing, strong eye contact, sex noises, tension, some swearing, noisy neighbour, arguing, stealing food, property damage, I don't know, porn?

Bingo Square Filled: Neighbour AU for @spnmixedbingo

A/N: Yes, another porn. Please, don't judge me, I couldn't help it. I won't say much, that fic just sorta happened. I hope you'll like it! Enjoy babes!

A/N: As always huge huge huge THANK YOU to my dear beta, angel and Queen @winchest09 for giving this piece a look. Love you Tabbs <3 Still, mistakes are mine!

A/N: The gorgeous divider designed by incredibly talented @talesmaniac89 <3

Throwing your bag on the counter along with your keys, a deep sigh left your chest. You numbly looked around your apartment as you began to take off your jewellery. Why did this place always look like a pigsty every time you got back home? Your necklace and bracelet joined your bag when you tossed them to one side as a yawn escaped you.

This day was exhausting, to say the least. Maybe your work wasn’t that demanding but sometimes it was just tiring to the point where you wanted to cry. After shrugging your jean jacket off, your feet took you to the couch and you just collapsed down on it with a pained grunt. Your body was stiff and aching, your head was pounding from pain and as soon as you felt a pillow under it, your will to stay awake had started to fade. You knew you shouldn’t take a nap now as there was still so much left to do today, but for god's sake, it was Friday evening and you had been working for the past 5 days at top speed. An hour of rest was something you definitely deserved.

Without standing up, you lifted your hips to take off your jeans and wrapped yourself in the blanket you always kept on the couch. Relaxing your body with a deep breath, you closed your eyes, already halfway to dreamland. But as soon as you felt yourself drifting completely, a loud sound of guitar suddenly sounded in your ears, making your eyes snap open.

No, not again!

Fisting the pillow, you felt the anger growing as you knew exactly where the loud rock music was coming from; recognising the band as AC/DC. When the volume increased, you hid your head underneath the pillow, desperate to cut off your aching skull from the noise. But it didn’t work, the sound still bleeding through the cushion. It didn’t take you a minute to shoot up on straight legs and pull on your sweats while marching towards the front door.

Mumbling inappropriate words, you entered the staircase for your building and immediately went down; hearing the power of the music increasing with every step you took. You found yourself on a floor below, with your jaw and hands clenched, eyes glued to door number 12 as you approached it. Once you stood in front of it, you lifted one of your fists and hit the hard on the wood a few times, ready to murder the person on the other side. Of course he made you wait till the song ended, causing you to repeat the punching a couple of times.

When the door finally opened, you were fuming with anger, eyes shooting lightnings towards the tall man on the opposite side of the doorstep.

"I swear to god, Winchester," you hissed through gritted teeth, a loud melody almost muffling your words. "If you won't turn that down, I will physically harm you." Your threatening pulled a laugh from him which only acted as another oil drop to the fire.

"Sweetheart you can't do anything to me," he said, leaning on the doorframe with his arms crossed on this broad chest. "Besides, I don't understand what your problem is." Dean shrugged as if nothing had happened, making your brows shoot up.

"You don't understand?! This music is driving me crazy!" You took a deep breath and while not breaking the strong eye contact you had with him, you started to enlighten him on what exactly was wrong. "I’ve had a terrible day, no, week actually. Everything hurts, my head is pounding and this music is shaking my walls which in turn, is not letting me sleep. So if you could be so nice and turn that off because I swear on what's holy, if I lose my goddamn mind, your name will be the first one I'm gonna mention once they ask me how I ended up in mental hospital." Words just slipped out of you in one unbreakable line and you took shuddering breath after, composing yourself.

However, the smug smirk didn’t leave your neighbour's face; he didn’t give a damn about your monologue. After you finished, he only put a hand on your shoulder and delivered his response.

"It's a Friday evening and we live in a free country. There’s no rule saying I can't listen to loud music, unless it's lights out. What's more, you're the only one who can't stand this, I don't see anyone else coming here to complain, so maybe the problem lies in you, not in me," he simply said, as he flashed you a fake, sarcastic smile and closed the door. But not before saying, "have a nice evening."

You looked up to the ceiling, asking for patience but the frustration and anger were huge. You growled, kicked Winchester's door with your socked foot and cursed, feeling pain going from your toes to the tibial bone.

On your way back to your apartment, you were mumbling out every possible, offensive name that came to your mind when you thought about that green eyed man. Your relationship had been heated ever since he moved into the building. He made your blood boil. Loud music, meetings with his friends, watching movies on full volume on his surround speakers after dark in the middle of the week, noisily cooking at midnight; even his one night stands apparently had an unfulfilled opera career.

You were having a battle with Dean, on average, twice a week. Knowing you weren’t the only one who couldn’t stand his behavior, you asked others for help, but Dean’s charm was way bigger of an opponent than you had expected. He could just use a sweet smile, say a few, flirty words with this deep voice and Ann from the end of the hall would walk on wobbly legs with stupid smile on her face for the next four days.

You couldn’t really blame her, the man was ridiculously attractive but you were looking past it. Dean was an annoying asshole and the only reason you had not yet clawed out his eyes was the fact that visiting the jail wasn’t exactly a wooing thought.

Shutting your door behind you, you leaned against it and ‘Sweet Child O’ mine’ came on. You growled once again, hit your wooden barricade with your head and looked down, trying to find calmness in your floor. Once you stopped radiating fury, knowing that the person below won't let you rest for at least two more hours, you chose the second drawer in your kitchen, searching for painkillers. If you were being made to stay up, you were gonna be productive. Swallowing two aspirin, you decided to clean the place so you could focus on college work tomorrow.

If only you could actually focus on college work.

After waking up at 8 am the next day, you opened the window on your way to the kitchen, craving coffee. It wasn’t normal for you to get up at this hour on the weekend but your finals were coming and you had way more work than you expected.

Thankfully, the weather outside was pleasant; the sun was already shining, creating morning shadows and the soft wind streamed inside your apartment, tickling your ankles as you sat at the table, eating breakfast. The smell of spring made you smile, always bringing back good memories. After the meal, you didn’t bother to change your pajamas for the actual clothes and you just took the laptop to start working on your college sheets. You were sitting with one of your legs bent, heel leaning on the chair, messy bun on your head, sipping on the second coffee while listening to the birds singing happily outside. Words were flooding out of you, making you feel certain that it wouldn’t take you long to be done with your essays. But that blissful moment was cut short when a loud rumble of a car’s engine resonated under your building, causing you to jerk in your chair and almost spill your drink.

Recognizing it straight away, you looked up, trying your best to not get angry again but as the sound of his loud engine revving l continued, you smacked the table with your palm and stood up. As you leaned on your window sill and gazed out, you spotted black, slick Chevrolet with the driver's door, trunk and hood open. Tools were scattered around the vehicle, a jean clothed leg was sticking out from the inside and you greeted your teeth, knowing who that was.

“Hey!” you yelled out, not caring if probably half of the residents could hear you. “I’m trying to study here!”

Dean peeked out and up at you, smiled and got out of the car, leaning his elbow on the hood in a nonchalant way.

“Good morning to you too,” he said and flashed you the oh-so-charming smile.

“It would be good if you didn’t interrupt it with your loud junker,” you spat back, leaning on the window frame and smiled when his face fell; he hated it when someone insulted his Baby, and you were very much aware of that. “Now, could you please lower your generic volume because I have a lot to do and you’re the last thing I want to deal with today.”

“Nobody tells you to. I’m minding my business, you go mind yours, I ain’t stopping you.” He gestured towards you with his grease covered hand.

“No, but your car is making noise that shakes all the dishes in my cabinet.”

He just shrugged and you narrowed your eyes, seeing that he didn’t care about whatever your problem was. “Then I suggest closing the window.”

After saying that, he dived inside the vehicle and seconds later you heard the strong twang of a guitar. Again. This man was very successful in making you hate rock music. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, stopping yourself from throwing a flowerpot at him; only because it was a very nice pot and you were emotionally attached to it.

“I need fresh air! I’m not gonna close the window! Turn that off!” you screamed, but he only frowned and pointed to his ear.

“Sorry sweetheart, can’t hear you!” You could see the smile dancing on his lips and you really wanted to break something on his head. “The music is too loud!”

Clenching your jaw you gave up. Another defeat, but it wasn’t the war you lost; it was just a battle and he was yet to feel your comeback. Showing him your middle finger, you closed the window and went to the bathroom, not being able to hear the soft chuckle that left him.

Maybe to an outsider, Dean’s behavior wasn’t such a big deal, but the longer he acted like that, the more annoying and tiring it was becoming. You couldn’t focus on basic activities because he was giving you a headache in various ways and for some reason, you couldn’t just talk it through with him. Every attempt at trying to get to an understanding with him, ended up with a fight.

Winchester was just a pain in the ass.

Thankfully, he vanished before noon; his car was gone and there was a blissful silence that you made the most of, and finished the majority of what you had to do.

Surrounded by papers and books, you were sitting down on your fluffy carpet, leaning back on your couch, typing away on your laptop. Glancing at your clock again, you frowned. It’s been almost 85 minutes since you ordered pizza; your stomach was rumbling, unhappy with the fact of still being empty. Finding your phone, you dialed the pizza parlor’s number once again. Standing up, you stretched your muscles and looked outside, watching the sunset sky as you waited for someone to pick up. Finally, the lady’s voice spoke to you down the line, asking you how she could help.

“Hi, I made an order from you and I still haven’t received it? It’s been over an hour,” you explained politely, scratching the back of your head.

You didn’t like situations like that; delay was understandable, but it had been way too long. However, you hated to call someone out, you never wanted to make someone’s job harder than it already was. Giving your address to the lady so she could check where your food was, you spotted the black vehicle under the building and your brows shot up. He was home and it was still quiet; it wasn’t normal.

“Miss, the system says your order was delivered and we have a confirmation of receipt.” You frowned hearing her words as what she said was impossible.

“Are you sure? There was no delivery here.”

“Yes, I’m positive. It says someone picked up the order twenty minutes ago.” Pinching your nose, you took a deep breath.

“Could you check the address precisely, please? Maybe your driver made a mistake?” you suggested being already sure someone else got your food.

“Rosenhouse Street, building 4, apartment 12,” she read and the last number made you flinch.

“Apartment 20,” you corrected her, but she denied.

“No Miss, the order was picked up by apartment 12.” And just like that the level of your anger reached three digits in a second.

“Okay, thank you so much,” you murmured and disconnected the call without a goodbye, already storming halfway across your place, getting ready to leave.

Slamming the door, you took a very well known path downstairs and you banged on number 12 as soon as you stood in front of it. Feeling the urge to punch the person who was supposed to open, you inhaled deeply, clenching your teeth. Just... keep it cool, Y/N.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” you growled the second Dean came into your view in his domestic clothes, wearing sweatpants and a hoodie.

“Whoa, what?” he tilted his head with an uncomprehending look.

“Listen,” you pointed a finger at him. “Loud noises, annoying car, your mean behavior, fine, okay. Screw it. But stealing food? That is childish. Can you go any lower?!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, sweetheart,” he said with a smile dancing on his lips. “What food?”

“My pizza,” you muttered through your teeth.

“Oh, right!” He smacked his forehead, acting like he just now understood. “Yeah, pizza was great.”

“You stole it!” you exclaimed, a little too high pitched.

“No I didn’t,” Dean stated, giving you a small, I-know-better smile.

“Yes, you did. I ordered it and you just pocketed it!” You really wanted to stamp your foot like a little girl to tick your fury.

"No sweetheart, I didn’t," he said, crossing his arms and straightening his back so he could tower over you, making you look up. "The guy came in with pizza, said he's supposed to bring it here, so I paid for it and ate it."

"Oh! Because it's normal to pay for the food you didn’t order and keep it to yourself. And stop calling me sweetheart!" You puffed out irritated, making him smirk.

"You're cute when you're angry." Your face fell and you felt your palm itching. What would he do if you slapped him?

"Dean," you warned him but he chuckled.

"No, seriously." He reached to your forehead, wanting to brush it with his finger. "You have this cute, little wrinkle in the middle-"

"Don't touch me." You smacked his hand away and pointed a warning finger straight into his face. "One more action like this and you're gonna regret it," you growled out and walked away.

"So it's threatening now, huh?!" he called after you, coming out to stand in the hall.

Before you stepped on the stairs, you turned around with such a force, that your hair flipped over one of your shoulders and you showed him your middle finger. Hearing his low laugh bouncing on the wall, you scoffed annoyed as you stomped loudly going back upstairs. You swore that if you were supposed to become a murderer one day, that this man was gonna be victim number one. This whole 'lets annoy her' process would be great fuel for you to slice that slender throat of his.

Shutting the door again, you walked into the kitchen, dived in the fridge and decided to stuff yourself with pancakes. Screw Dean and his pizza, you were not going to give him satisfaction with ordering anything else tonight.

“So, he’s a confident man,” Jo stated after you told her about Winchester’s behavior.

You came to Harvelle's to grab something for Sunday dinner; they had the most delicious menu in the whole town and no one could change your mind. You were sitting with a blonde girl at the table, outside their restaurant, sipping on some light drinks Ellen had prepared for the two of you. Ash was already working on your meal in the kitchen while Jo was taking her break so she could sit with you and listen about your neighbour under the floor. It took you way longer to describe everything and you felt kind of bad for that. You weren’t the type who whined about such things and forced friends to hear about your bullshit, but now you were desperate to get it all off your chest.

“Confident asshole,” you corrected her, “I just wish he could finally get his ass kicked, you know? I can’t live with this man! He’s an arrogant, offensive, little, annoying dickhead!” you said, crossing your arms on your chest.

After a few seconds of silence, you looked up at Jo. She was watching you, clearly trying not to smile; her lips were twitching and small dimples had already appeared. You knew her long enough to know that she was all ready to tease you about this whole situation.

“What?” you barked at her and she lifted her hands in defense.

“Nothing!” She shrugged. “Just, your relationship with him seems to have been… rough since the very beginning.”

“It is! I really wanna punch him!” Jo lifted her brows, a smile breaking on her face.

“Just punch him?” The suggestion was shining in her eyes and your shoulders fell down at the subtext.

“Jo!” she started giggling when she heard your resigned tone. “Just because I’m having a heated exchange with a hot guy doesn’t mean that I wanna fuck him!”

“Oh, so you think he’s hot?” she asked innocently, taking a sip from her glass.

“Yes, but he’s an idiot and I would never let him in my panties, come on,” you scoffed as you rolled your eyes. The last thing you would ever do was having sex with this man.

“Sure.”

And you knew Jo didn’t believe you. To be honest, if you thought about it really, really hard, you weren’t sure if you believed yourself…

The door opened and Ash came out with a smile, your food packed in a thermal box.

“There you go, girl. We do not accept any complaints,” he said, winking at you and you chuckled, taking the meal from him.

“Thanks, Ash.” He saluted you and vanished as quickly as he appeared. You glanced at your phone laying on the table and sighed seeing the time. “Okay babe, I’m gonna go. School’s calling and I bothered you enough anyway.”

“Oh stop it, you’re not bothering me, don’t be stupid,” she said smiling, and hugged you tight. “Text me when you get home.”

“Sure thing.” You winked and walked backwards, watching her disappear inside the RoadHouse.

Smiling to yourself, you turned around and crossed the street. At first your thoughts were filled with Jo who could always put you in a good mood but then they gradually transitioned into someone else.

You didn’t know if it was your overworked system or what Jo had teased you about that caused Dean to stick inside your mind, but you wanted to scream; it was like he had nested in there. Not only was he disturbing your living space, but he was now invading your mental space as well. What’s more, it wasn’t exactly hard to not think about him in a nasty way, and you hated it. The truth was that he was attractive from his fluffy hair to his toes, and more than once you had caught yourself daydreaming about his hands and mouth on you.

You couldn’t help it. The way he looked was not fair and Jo made you realise that if not for his attitude, you would have slept with him a long time ago. Thankfully, in the moments you felt weakness for him, he was doing something that pissed you off to the point where you wanted to bite his head off.

You really wanted to get even with him, you had to bounce the ball. The need to bite back was so big that you stopped dead in your tracks when you saw the paint store. The bulb in your head flickered on and a devil smile angled your lips. Maybe it was a bad idea, maybe it was childish, maybe it was crossing the line, but you had suffered enough thanks to this jerk.

Buying one can of pink chalk paint, you were muting your common sense that was currently shouting at you. As the saying goes - you only live once. He wanted a fight? You were going to fight. He started to play a strong hand? You were going to do the same. He thought playing with you like that was fun? Well, you were gonna have some fun too. Besides, he wouldn’t realise immediately that the paint would easily wash off, but seeing him panic thinking that his car had been defaced was revenge enough.

With a few last strokes of a paintbrush, you were finished. Straightening your back, you looked down at your work and smiled, satisfied with pink flowers you had drawn on the black surface. They were a nice contrast and you really liked the shape. In all honesty, it kinda burned you to paint this four wheeled beauty, but it wasn’t your fault her owner was a douchebag who deserved a lesson.

The impala was parked in her usual spot, next to the building that was mostly asleep. There were no cameras and due to the late hour, the chance of someone spotting you was small. Besides, you were just a hooded figure, no one would recognise you anyway even with the dim light from a lonely lantern. It was risky, but you were too far gone in your revenge to care. It had been done and you wished you could see Dean’s face in the morning.

Gathering your things you looked around, checking to see if there was anyone you should avoid and you got back to your apartment. After closing the door, you took off your clothes, staying only in leggings and a t-shirt, and decided to make some tea. You had this weird energy bubbling inside of you and it would be a waste to not use it on college papers. Getting comfortable on your couch you started going through materials for one of your projects.

Not expecting any visitors, you jumped slightly while hearing a rapid knocking on your door an hour later. You frowned and stood up, finishing your tea on your way to the entry. What you saw on the other side almost made you smile like an idiot. Dean was boring into you with his eyes; if looks could kill, you would surely be a beautiful corpse by now. His chest was rising and falling heavily, jaw clenched to the point his cheek was twitching and you could see the slight blush coloring on his face. He was wearing his leather jacket but was also in sweats so you assumed he was about to make a quick grocery run or something.

“What the hell?!” he growled at you before you could say a word. Ohhh, he was angry.

“What?” You shrugged innocently, ignoring the weird chill that ran down your spine after hearing the vibrations of his tone.

Dean took a deep breath, doing his best to not shout out. “I wanted to go get some beer and burgers, but guess what. Someone screwed up my car. And you know what? I think it was you.”

He pointed a finger at you, holding keys in his hand. You laughed and leaned on your doorframe, ready to confront him. Satisfaction already tickled your insides, but there was one thing that you had to admit - he was hot when he was angry.

“You really think that I have nothing better to do than mess up your car?” you asked, amused by his flaring nostrils.

"Don't you fucking dare play with me like that," he said firmly, not wanting to yell. "Do you know it's property damage? You broke a law and I can easily get you in trouble."

He was fuming with anger and you were sure that if it was possible, there would be smoke coming out of his ears. You smiled and stood your ground, finding it adorable how he thought he had anything useful against you.

"You have nothing on me. No proof that I was the one who defaced your car," you started, taking two steps to stand inches away from him. "Call the cops and I'm gonna tell them all about the nuisance, the stealing, manipulation and manifestations of aggression all coming from you.”

You stared straight into his eyes, a smart smile not leaving you even for a second; feeling confident in your words. Maybe he had a point, but you weren’t empty handed. You could get punished for what you did and so could he.

“What is your problem, Y/N?!” he asked, pinching his nose, clearly irritated with you. “You keep whining, making problems out of nothing and now painting my damn car?”

“You’re not letting me live in peace!” you raised your voice. “Your loud music, loud car, loud tv, loud you in general! I can’t sleep, I can’t study, I can’t do anything because you’re always there to disturb me!”

“Then leave!” he suggested, raising his tone as well. You were taken aback; lifting your brows you blinked a few times. Was he joking?

“Leave?! Are you kidding me now?! This is my home and just a friendly reminder, I was in here first so maybe you should back off!”

“But you’re the only one having a problem with me!” he yelled, spreading his arms, highlighting the obviousness of his argument.

“Because you’re a manipulative ass! You use your charm, this fucking smile, your shining eyes, and nice language, and the whole building is yours! Even Ian from the 4th floor and he doesn't even like people!”

“Ian is a cool guy!”

“Good!”

You took a breath and opened your mouth to say something more but no words came out. Again, you were convinced that there was no way to come to an agreement with this guy. Further arguments were pointless. Looking at him you shook your head and brushed your hair to the back. The soft smile and look you gave him next, made him frown a little.

“You know what? Fuck you,” you said simply and went to close the door, but his retort didn’t let you.

“You wish.”

Freezing, you locked your eyes with his and in a split second, something shifted in the air. The atmosphere got thick and the tension you had been building for months, now came into play, kinda taking you both by surprise. Dean felt it too, you could see his expression changing. He was trying to read you, trying to understand what was buzzing between you. A part of you wanted to explain it, to show him that you already knew it was sexual tension saying ‘hi’, but as soon as you realised that, you swallowed and forced your rational mask back on.

Shaking off the urge to take steps towards him, you scoffed and sending him one last look, you shut the door without saying anything. Taking two deep breaths, you leaned your forehead on the wooden barricade and closed your eyes.

There was no way in hell you would give in and break. He had everyone else in his fist, but not you. The only person that didn’t fall under his spell, the only one that didn’t let your craving inside take better of you. Dean was still your enemy and a pain in the ass; it was a matter of honour and dignity to stay away.

However, soft knocking made your eyes snap open. No. Darting your head from the door you looked at it, knowing who was behind it but that didn’t even register when you pulled on the door-handle. Dean was supporting his body on his arms that he had placed on both sides of your door, blocking the way. He was looking at you intensely, his breathing quicker than moments ago.

You could see the exact second he made a decision. You knew he was going to do something he shouldn’t and yet, you let him close the gap between you and crush his mouth to yours, cupping your cheeks at the same time. The force he hit you with made you take steps backwards, encouraging him to come in and turn you around so you could unconsciously close the door. His grip was firm, long fingers digging in your neck as hot lips forced yours apart. But your stubbornness caused you to push him away, breaking the connection.

The look you exchanged was a mix of emotions; hate, passion, frustration, lust, confusion, hesitation. This was something completely new for you; needing him was unfamiliar, strange, but at the same time stronger than anything you had felt before when it came to Dean. There was this quiet voice telling you that it was already too late; you tasted it and you wanted it, obviously. The other voice was louder, trying to make you aware of how messed up it's gonna be after, but somehow you didn’t want to listen. Not this time.

"Fuck it."

Saying that, you approached Dean and gripping him by the back of his neck, you pulled him down for a kiss. It was sloppy and deep, all teeth and tongues. He inhaled through his nose, bending down when your nails clawed at his skin. Grabbing you by the waist, he used a little pressure so you walked backwards. You didn’t expect to be pushed against the wall and a surprised gasp escaped you when your back hit it. Looking up at Dean, you noticed how his hungry eyes flickered over your figure and a cocky smirk formed on his face. You mirrored his expression and lifted your chin, so you could suck in his lower lip, biting on it softly. His response was immediate and fierce; he pressed his body to yours, pinning you to the wall completely, kissing you even deeper than before. The heat flooded you, making your cheeks burn and a sweat break.

You moaned and that seemed to spur him on because his hands started travelling all over your body. Doing the same, you aimed for his jacket, pushing it off his broad shoulders so it could land on the floor. The thought of finally discovering what was under his clothes took over your brain and you started to pull on his t-shirt, hazed and eager. But Dean grabbed your wrist and pinned it next to your head, not letting you undress him. You twisted and tugged, trying to break free, but he slid his fingers between yours and you instinctively clenched your palm.

“Don’t fight,” he breathed out, leaving your lips as he dropped to your neck, letting you take a much needed breath.

Leaning your head back you gave him the access to your throat where he licked and sucked, french-kissing your flesh. Your knees buckled a little when his hot lips closed on your pulse point, sending shivers down your spine as his stubble prickled you. Feeling his second hand sneaking under your shirt, you held your breath and jerked on the skin to skin contact. He wasn’t delicate; his long fingers were squeezing and digging, a firm touch making it all the more intense. Using your free hand you fisted his hair, pulling on it. Dean purred, nibbling on your flesh, making your eyes roll. It was like playing tennis, back and forth; you had an answer to each other's movements.

The hunger inside you was growing fast; you were getting more and more impatient and being caged by Dean only made you feel limited. So, naturally, you rebelled, trying to take control; with Dean it was always a competition. But your attempt only caused him to press his body more, his knee coming between your legs, making it harder for you to move. The thin material of your leggings was a weak protection to his touch and you whined when your sensitive area met his thigh. Fidgeting even more, you made him chuckle.

“Stop fighting,” he whispered into your ear as he pulled your earlobe between his teeth.

Growling, you turned your head and sunk your teeth into his neck, tasting sweet and salty. Dean hissed and backed away, looking down at you with a surprise in his eyes, brows slightly furrowed. You smiled and angled yourself to speak against his lips.

“Don’t act like you don’t like a fight, Winchester.”

The suggestion was clear and he seemed to understand. Your relationship was already a ticking bomb so why not have a little fun?

The challenging look you gave him was a last jolt and his mode switched. Before you could do anything, he kissed you firmly, letting go of you just to grab on the front of your shirt. Pulling with two hands Dean ripped the fabric in half, revealing your torso, making you smile a devil’s smile. He shook his head in disbelief that you were actually going along with it and grinning, he attacked your jaw. Scraping it with his teeth first, then kissing and going down passed your neck, to your collarbone. Bending his knees so he could reach lower and lower, he proceeded to shrug the destroyed clothing off you and focus on your breasts. Placing sloppy kisses on the curves, Dean moved his hands on your back and unclasped your bra. As soon as it was gone, he sucked in one of your nipples, causing you to arch your chest. Pulling his hair, you grabbed the back of his head, letting him know you enjoyed his work.

Every time his lips touched you, they left burning spots and you could feel yourself getting wetter. Not holding back anymore, you started to roll your hips, seeking the friction his leg could give you. Still playing with your boobs, he caught your hips and added the power to your moves, dragging a moan from you. Glancing down, you spotted the bulge in his sweatpants and realised he was still wearing too much clothes.

“Take that fucking shirt off,” you panted out, grabbing on the piece of clothing on his back.

This time he allowed you to do what you needed, lifting his arms to make your task easier and the second his chest was bare, you used your nails to leave red lines, making him grimace from pain before he kissed you. Caressing his newly exposed body, you felt firm muscles of his strong arms flexing. He wasn’t a gym type of guy, he was soft in some places but firm and strong in general, and that turned you on to the point your stomach flipped.

Suddenly, he pushed on your hips until your butt touched the wall behind you and pulled away from you, straightening himself. You looked at each other, panting and flinching in anticipation. Keeping the eye contact, Dean cupped your face, brushing his thumb over your swollen lips and slowly slid his hands down your body. You swallowed hard when he hooked his fingers behind your waistband and pulled your leggings down, crouching in front of you.

With a thumping heart you looked down at him, meeting his dark eyes watching you as he kissed your knee, your thigh, your inner thigh; his hands travelling up your legs, leaving goosebumps. You shivered when his hot breath hit your still clothed core. He placed a kiss on your damp panties, making your pussy clench and stopped. Leaning his forehead on your lower stomach, he tried to remain self-control, breathing strongly to calm himself down... and he failed. This whole situation was too much and he had wanted it for way too long to stop now.

Shooting up, he claimed your lips, driving his fingers inside your briefs at the same time. His digits went through your folds, gathering slick and found your clit, making you gasp into his mouth.

“Yeah? Right here?” he whispered and you sucked the air in through your mouth when he drew a circle, pressing harshly on your little nub.

Feeling him smiling, you clung to his neck, keeping him close when he started to make circles on your button. Moaning laughs escaped you, mixed with short breaths as you felt fire filling your veins, tickling sparks running from your clit to every nook of your system. For a moment you lost yourself in the feeling, but your brain woke up when he nudged you, rubbing his dick on your leg.

Opening your eyes, you locked them with his, tracing your palm down his chest and stomach. Somehow, you managed to turn you both around so he was by the wall. You didn’t care about teasing him through his pants so you pushed your hand inside and grabbed his hard shaft. Dean jerked and choked on his breath; the whole foreplay made him ridiculously sensitive.

You smiled satisfied and began to pump him, making his head fall back on the wall. His exposed neck was shining with sweat, throat moving as he swallowed hard. Your biting kink was begging for you to bite him, but the view was too good to not watch. His breathing quickened along with your strokes, his jaw flexing when he opened his mouth to chug. A thick vein popped out on the side of his neck, a guttural whine coming from him when you rubbed your thumb on his tip. Finally, you gave in and closed your lips on his jaw, light stubble pricking your lips. Dean turned his head and palming yours he brought you in for a kiss but you broke it fast, having enough.

"Come on," you said, taking his hand and leading him to your bedroom.

Not being able to stay away from each other, you stumbled towards the room, kissing and laughing, getting rid of the rest of the clothes on your way. Hitting the bed you let yourself fall on it, pulling Dean behind you. He hovered above you, using his tongue to play with your nipples as you both climbed up to the headboard. Adjusting the pillows beneath you, you felt his body pressing down, arms sneaking under yours as he kissed you deeply. Rolling his hips, he drove his cock between your folds, poking your clit and you automatically lifted your lower body up on your heels, feeling the electricity running through you. Dean bit down on your lip and pulled on it hard with his teeth, smiling when you hissed.

Without thinking much you just reached between your bodies and guided his cock to your entrance, making him freeze. The look he gave you was a mashup of a question and disbelief, and all it took was your evil smirk. You felt him fisting the sheets under you and with one, mild thrust he slid inside of you. Arching your back you inhaled, digging your fingers into his shoulders. He was stretching you; your walls fluttered around him when he bottomed out, making the two of you give silent moans, your voices stuck in your throats from intensity.

Watching you, he began to move, making you both more and more comfortable with the feeling. Gradually, his pace increased and so did the noises. Your breathy moans and growls filled the room, mixing with the sound of skin slapping on skin as Dean's hips waved between your thighs, faster and faster. New layers of sweat covered your bodies as the temperature increased; you felt the omnipresent, pleasurable burning.

Dean kept the rhythm, only stopping for just for a moment to kiss you. Not letting the opportunity pass, you pushed on him and flipped over so you were on top. Looking at you with a smirk, he palmed your asscheeks as you sinked down on him, continuing the activity.

The passion and sensuality made your head spin; Dean’s lustful eyes devouring you alive weren’t helping. You dragged your nails on his flesh again, making him hiss between the sounds. It wasn’t easy to breathe, to think or control yourself; your body started working by itself, speeding up, making you bounce on him while leaning your hands on his chest for support. Dean couldn’t decide where to touch, what part of you he should grab next; his hands were everywhere. Wrapping his fingers around the back of your neck he sat up, changing the angle and gave you this eye-rolling kiss. This asshole knew what he was doing.

A new position allowed you to only roll your hips and you laid back, grabbing Dean’s ankle to make your moves more fluent. He took a handful of your ass, helping you, watching himself sliding in and out of you, growling in pleasure. Tangled together you moved in sync, matching the other’s moves, grinding to empower the sensation. Feeling the coil tightening in your stomach, your head hung back and you exhaled, wailing quietly. A hand flattened on your back and Dean violently pulled you up, pressing your forehead to his. With closed eyes, panting against each other's mouth you chased both of your deliriums. Your pussy fluttered, your nails dug into his neck as you clasped it; the feeling started to overwhelm. The way Dean was moaning and clinging to you made it clear that he felt the same.

Your strength was fading and you found yourself slowing down. Dean’s attempts to continue were in vain as he was becoming weak too, exhaustion and his upcoming release taking over him.

“Y/N,” he warned you and you opened your eyes, looking at him when he reached between you. “I’m gonna-” you kissed him, cutting him off, tugging on his lip with your teeth.

“Stay inside,” you whispered, watching the surprise flash through his features.

The serious, assuring look on your face made his eyes roll back and the noise he made, clamped your stomach. Using your last strands of your power, you sped up, Dean joining you by hitting the right spot inside you. His fingers found your clit again, rubbing on it fast and you moaned loudly, feeling your muscles tightening.

A few more strokes, a few more moves and the crushing wave of pleasure hit you; your inner walls pulsated, squeezing Dean’s cock as you grabbed firmly on his neck, holding on for dear life. His thrusts went more erratic but also were more powerful; he was pounding inside you slow but hard, putting his forehead between your breasts. You were shaking and his breath fanning over your tummy only added more goosebumps.

Then you felt his arms wrapping around you and he hugged you tight. Pulling you close, Dean thrusted for the last time and with a low, throaty groan he stilled; his cock throbbing inside you, allowing you to milk him as you were still coming. The two of you were shivering, entwined in each other, panting and sweaty. Your heart was hammering and you could feel Dean’s galloping as well.

After calming down a bit, he let go of you and fell back on the bed, hitting the pillows with a sigh. Licking your lips, you looked down at him and smiled, seeing his eyes sparkling with joy and bliss. He laughed, caressing your thighs and then pulled you down for a kiss. It was sweet and soft, without tongue, just lips brushing yours; completely different then those earlier.

Oh, so he could be gentle too.

Cupping his face, you pecked his mouth a few times and then rolled off of him, standing up to make a quick run to your bathroom to clean yourself, leaving the door open.

"Hey!" you heard him yelling not even two minutes later, after you splashed your face with cold water. "Is it weird that I wanna cuddle?!"

You smiled on his words, shaking your head. Asshole also appeared to be a softie cuddler. Can this evening be any weirder?

"Yes!" you yelled back, laughing as you put down the cloth you were using to dry yourself.

"Cool!" he announced and then changed his tone, "I don't care."

Chuckling, you turned the light off on your way out and grabbed a random, oversized t-shirt from your drawer to put it on, letting it slip from one of your shoulders. Dean was making himself comfy in your bed, watching you carefully with his arm under his head and a stupid grin on his face.

"What?" you asked as you climbed on the bed, joining him under the covers.

"Nothing," he shrugged and shifted so you could fit in, resting your head on his chest.

Throwing your arm over his middle, you hugged him as his fingers came to trace the skin on your shoulder. A comfortable silence fell over you as you cuddled, enjoying the warmth, but you knew his mind was running, just like yours.

You didn’t like this tendency of yours to overthink, but the current situation was not only unexpected but also confusing. What now? Lovers? Relationship? Friends with benefits? Enemies with benefits? Because, you had to stay honest, if he did something that would piss you off, no matter how good he was in bed, you would still punch his perfect nose.

"I'm sorry." His words surprised you, detaching you from your thoughts. "For being a noisy neighbour."

You could hear the genuine guilt in his voice and that immediately made you feel like a bitch, so you said the first thing that came to your mind.

"I'm sorry for screwing up your car," you mumbled and quickly regretted it.

"Ha! So it was you!" His victory voice made your eyes roll and you poked his side, annoyed by the fact he dragged a confession from you so easily.

"But if it makes you feel any better, the paint is made of chalk so it’ll easily wash off," you said, unable to help the silly smile that spread across your face when you saw the relieved but shocked expression that he wore.

“Well played,” he chuckled, the sound rumbling under your ear which you found oddly comforting. So you snuggled more, melting into the intimacy.

You had to look the truth straight into the eye; maybe he did infuriate you like no other but there was something else. A pull, an urge to blow off the constant steam forming between you. You wanted him and something was telling you that from now on you won't be knocking on door number 12 just to fuss about loud music.

And once Jo finds out, you wouldn’t hear the end of it.

A/N: Thank you for reading! I hope you liked it :) Feel free to leave some feedback. ASKs and DMs are open, don’t be afraid to message me. Every word from you is gold <3

Tag list is open! :)

If something is not working, you weren’t on the tag list even if you wanted to, you can’t send an ask or you didn’t receive the notification about me tagging you in any of my fics, please contact me in DM’s.

Tag list: @deanwanddamons @jay-and-dean @katehuntington @winchest09 @talesmaniac89 @roonyxx @bunkerconfessions @akshi8278 @snffbeebee @lady-pswrld @rvgrsbrns @polina-93 @teresa-67 @alwayskeepfightingsweetheart @mrspeacem1nusone @flamencodiva @cutiecowgirl @waywardbaby @flashxspn @lyarr24

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avengerscompound · 6 years ago

Text

The Tower - Chapter 26

The Tower: An Avengers Fanfic

Chapter 26

Series Masterlist

Chapters: one / two / three / four / five / six / seven / eight / nine / ten / eleven / twelve / thirteen / fourteen / fifteen / sixteen / seventeen / eighteen / nineteen / twenty / twenty-one / twenty-two / twenty-three / twenty-four / twenty-five / twenty-six / twenty-seven / twenty-eight

Word Count: 1943

Warnings: angst, action, violence

Synopsis: Elly and Alexa escape the SHIELD compound. Elly finds out exactly what HYDRA are up to and what they’ve been doing to her missing family members.

Author’s Note: Co-written with @fanficwriter013

Chapter 26 - M.E.D.U.S.A.

Alexa lifted her head as I entered the room. I wasn’t worried about her telepathy. The way she had messed up her DNA had meant that she was able to project thoughts, but not read them. I was terrified though. Terrified my body language would give me away. Terrified she’d spot Scott as he hid on me. My heart was hammering as I went to the cell with the ‘stolen’ passcard and typed in the code. The door clicked and I pushed it open.

She got to her feet and approached me hesitantly. “Are we leaving?”

I nodded. “We don’t have much time. They’re all in the conference room. You need to be quiet because Steve can hear really, really well.”

“Let’s go,” she agreed.

I led her quickly down the halls and outside. The SHIELD headquarters were underground and quite remote. I only really had a vague idea of where to go. The others had been sure Alexa would call for someone to collect us, but just in case I was told to walk North and eventually we’d hit a town.

“I haven’t been outside the building before. I looked at maps before we left, I think there’s a town that way,” I said, pointing North.

“Do you have a phone with you?” Alexa asked.

I nodded and pulled my phone out of my pocket.

“We’ll need to ditch it. But for right now…” She started tapping away on the screen. “We’re walking in the opposite direction of the town,” she said and tossed the phone.

I followed after her as we jogged along. “Where are we going?” I asked.

“You’ll see soon enough. Thank you for letting me go,” she said.

I shook my head. “I can’t… I couldn’t do what they wanted me to,” I said and held out the tablet. “I brought my work. Maybe you can use it to fix the mistakes in your genome.”

She gave me a dark smile. “Maybe you’d like to help me do that.”

“I can try… but I don’t know… I can’t do … If I do…” I stuttered.

Alexa grabbed my arm and pulled me closer to her. “Quiet,” she said.

I perked my ears up and heard the engines of a jet. I could see it off in the distance flying low to the ground. We started walking toward it and as we neared it Alexa waved her arm. The jet looked similar to the Quinn but less sleek. It landed and we boarded quickly through the back. It was in the air again before the rear had even closed properly and we hurriedly buckled into jump seats. When we were at altitude Alexa got up and moved into the cockpit. I could hear her talking but not what she was saying.

I felt Scott crawling around and he rested against the shell of my ear. “You’re doing great”, he whispered. “Hang in there.”

The jet touched down and Alexa came back out of the cockpit followed by the two pilots. “We’re here. Let me show you around your new home.”

She led me through the hanger and into a brightly lit building. This is MEDUSA. We create pharmaceuticals. That pays for our other research,” she said as we beelined straight to an elevator.

“I’ve heard of Medusa. You guys put a 200% markup on that HIV vaccine,” I said.

She smirked at me. “It’s all business.”

When the elevator stopped I was led through into some labs. This will be where you’re working. There are 15 floors dedicated to R&D. The first five are the legitimate business. Up here is where it gets fun. You will get your own lab and a team working under you. However, you will also be monitored. At least for a while. We have to be sure you’re not going to do anything stupid. I felt Scott run down the back of my neck and the next moment he was running along the floor. No one else seemed to notice so I just kept following along after Alexa as she led me through the labs. “For that reason too, you won’t be able to leave. Not until we’re sure.”

I looked over at her. “I’m a prisoner now?”

She laughed like I had said something so blatantly stupid she couldn’t keep it in. “Only until we know for sure you’re with us.”

“But I let you go. I risked everything for you,” I protested.

She patted me on the back. “Then you have nothing to worry about.” She led me back to the elevator. “Now we’re going to scan you to see if you have been bugged at all, and then I can take you to see your ex-lovers.”

She took me to another lab, this one more medical in nature. I had blood taken and I was put in an MRI. I wasn’t worried because the tracker was so small it wouldn’t show up on any kind of scanner. It was a couple of hours later when Alexa came to collect me.

“Let’s go see the soldier first, shall we?” She said.

We took the elevator down into a sub-basement. She led me down a dark narrow hall and I could hear him screaming even before we got to where they were keeping him. He was in a room on the other side of a two-way mirror, strapped into a machine and it looked like they were electroshocking him. It stopped just as I saw him and I ran to the window putting my hands on the glass. “Bucky!” I yelled, completely forgetting everything I was here to do.

Bucky looked up his eyes wild. He spat the mouth guard out and started fighting in his restraints. “Elly?” He shouted. A few guards rushed over and one injected something into his neck while he struggled. He quickly became sluggish and passed out.

“Well, now. That was an interesting response you both had,” Alexa said.

I turned to face her. “Why are you torturing him?”

“He’s our property. We’ve lost the old trigger words, so we’re programming some new ones into him,” Alexa explained. “Why do you care? You left them.”

I balled my hands into fists. The nails biting into my skin. “He’s still a person. He never tried to force me to do anything,” I said, almost snarling the words. “Besides we … they treated you well.”

“Except for the fact they were going to kill me,” Alexa countered.

I slumped. “He’s still a person.”

“He’s our asset. But I’ll remember how he responded now. We took the archer to try and get him to comply. He always remained quite stony-faced. I guess you’re the innocent one though aren’t you?” She said. “Shall I take you to see the Witch too? Keep in mind, that she also belonged to us. We are just taking back what is ours.”

I frowned nodded my head.

I was led down to another room. This time I was taken right into the room with her. She was strapped to a bench, her arms locked into place, hands covered, and pointing into her face. She had a cap that with wires coming from it attached to a machine and several IVs in place, including one that seemed to be collecting blood. She was pale and looked out of it. I had to hold myself back from rushing to her side.

She looked over at us as we entered. “Elly?” She said, her voice sounding both weak and confused.

“Wanda,” I answered.

“What are you doing here?” She asked.

“I couldn’t stay with them anymore. Steve… he said…” I trailed off hoping really hard she could hear my thoughts, though I knew she couldn’t. I also hoped that she’d read between the lines.

Wanda started to cry and once again I had to remind myself what I was doing here. “I loved you, Elly. I love you. How could you?”

“Okay, enough talk,” Alexa said. “Elise, you’ll be using samples from her and the soldier to help correct my DNA. I want the healing factor, the strength, and the little witch’s powers. You think you can do that?”

I nodded my head. “I think so.” It was an outright lie. I had never done anything like this and I knew for a fact that the serum used on Bucky and Steve made people like her even crazier, but it wouldn’t be much longer. I just needed to wait until Scott had backed up the company’s data and he’d call the others in to save us and arrest everyone.

“Excellent.” She gestured for the door and I gave Wanda one last look before I left the room. She started ushering me down the hall. “Now I’m taking you to your cell. We’ll bring you food and something to drink. Take this,” she said, putting a buzzer in my hand. “You can press it if you need anything at all. I don’t trust you fully yet, but that doesn’t mean I won’t take care of you. It’s a temporary situation.”

I nodded my head.

“Cheer up, Elise. We’re going to do some amazing things you and I,” she said, patting me on the back. She led me into a group of cells. There were twelve in all, 6 on each side of a hall. When we reached the one that was meant for me, someone rushed to the bars on the cell opposite.

“Elly? They caught you too? What happened?” Clint said, staring at me. He did not look good. He normally was covered in bandages from cuts he’d received. Now he was more bruises than not. He was covered in cuts. Many covered up, some not. Some still seemed to be bleeding.

“You can catch your ex up if you like. I’m sure he’d love to hear it,” Alexa said, shoving me into my cell. “Get a good night’s sleep. We have work in the morning.”

I waited until I was sure she was gone and turned to Clint. “Ex? What does she mean, Elly? What’s happened?”

I frowned and looked at him. “I had to leave,” I said, making my voice shake a little. At the same time, I signed the word ‘cameras’ to him.

“I don’t understand, El. What do you mean you had to leave?” He said, his voice sounded both hurt and confused but at the same time he signed ‘Fairly sure halls only.’

“They told me… they told me I had to do a procedure that would have killed her, Clint. That’s murder. I can’t murder anyone,” I said, feigning a desperate need for him to understand all the while I was signing, ‘We have a plan. They’re coming. Just waiting for the signal from Scott.’

‘Took you long enough.’ Clint signed back with a wink. “So you betrayed us? Is that it? You joined fucking HYDRA! I trusted you!” He yelled the last bit and it actually made me jump. He signed ‘sorry’ after I did.

“You don’t understand, Clint. I can’t kill people. Even if they are the bad guy. The fact they even asked me to do that…” I said while signing to Clint about what happened.

“They’re torturing us! You’re okay with that?” Clint yelled and started telling me about what they’d been doing to the three of them.

That’s how we talked. Him yelling at me while I pretended to get more and more withdrawn. And signing the whole time. Eventually, we decided it was best if we stopped and got some rest. I signed ‘I love you’ to him. And he signed it back.

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ironwebbs · 6 years ago

Note

Hey, do you take prompts? If so can you write a fix about flash hurting Peter and tony and the avengers finding out and storming down to the school to give flash a piece of their minds? I love your writing btw!!

Hello friend! Sorry for the wait! I’ve always loved the ‘Peters bullies get what they deserve’ trope! This is inspired by an episode of Criminal minds - elephants memory.

Sorry about the lack of avengers, I just love Tony being the one to kick ass and no flash but still shit bullies !! Homecoming flash was too much of a softie for this story!

——————————————————————

Tony taps his fingers on the steering wheel of the car impatiently. His neck was already aching from the amount of times he had peered forward and backwards, scanning the crowd of teenagers for his.

It was lab day. Tony refused to admit it was his favourite day of the week, even though he wasn’t fooling anyone anymore, but he knew it was Peters. Which is what made it even more confusing that the kid hadn’t already bounded out of the front doors and barrelled into the car in his usual over excited way.

Frowning, Tony glanced at his watch for the upteenth time. School had let out almost 45 minutes ago, and the last message Tony had got from Peter was a quick “just need to do something and I’ll meet you in the lot.”

Giving up, and already drafting his lecture regarding tardiness and making people wait, Tony begun to ring Peters phone.

Straight to voice mail.

He was seconds away from leaving a colourful message, when he saw the doors of the school slam open.

Disconnecting the line, he watched passively as the group of boys ran down the stairs, laughing loudly and shoving at each other. Animals. Tony scoffed.

“Did you see his face when he started crying” one of the boys howled with laughter, the rest of the group doubled over, some making mocking crying noises and feigned pleads.

“Don’t look! Leave us alone” another boy yelled in a high pitched whine, followed by a barrel of laughter.

The voices carried down the path until Tony couldn’t see the gang anymore. His heart hammered in his chest, a sick feeling of wrong settled over him.

Peter.

Slamming the car door open with more more force than was necessary, Tony all but fell out of the vehicle. His feet couldn’t possibly move any faster, cold sweat already creeping down his neck and over his face.

Sliding down the corridors of the hauntingly empty school halls, Tony looked around wildly, looking for any sign of the kid, of Peter.

After no luck in the hallways, he pushed out to the back of the school, towards the field.

His heart stops when he see’s him.

When he sees them.

They are thrust together, chest to chest, tightly bound by thick rope.

Suspended 10 feet in the air off the football goal.

Naked.

He stomach lurches into his throat, and it tastes like hot acid.

He freezes. He can’t move from where he’s stood, watching Peter and Ned wriggle and console each other, dangling in the air on display.

Tony launches into action almost as quickly as he had stopped. He sprints the length of the field, heart racing loudly in his chest, loud enough for Peter to probably hear.

When Peter looks down, his face floods with relief, and then shudders into horrible humiliation.

Tony ignored the latter. “Pete, it’s okay, I’m gonna get you down okay?” He calls up, ignoring how his voice shook.

Someone had stripped his kid and strung him up like a piece of meat.

Someone was going to die for this.

His hands tremble as he pulls at the knot suspending the rope from the base of the goal. He gets a solid grip on it before yelling up “I’m lowering you! Hold on”

He gets no response, but he doesn’t really expect one either.

The rope burns horribly on his palms as he lowers the children slowly to the floor, arms straining angrily against the weight.

He hears the pad of feet hitting grass and the barely concealed breath of relief from both kids. He sprints back to the duo, making quick silent work of ripping open the rope digging into their bare backs and trussing them together.

He feels sick to his stomach.

This wasn’t an act of bullying, this was a senseless act of humiliation and hurt.

The boys fall apart, quick to try hide their nudity. Tony takes his first look at Peters face.

He looks wrecked.

Under his eyes are swollen red from tears, cheeks flushed and clammy. There’s a bruise already forming around his eye socket and another one at the bottom of his jaw, his lip and brow split and bleeding sluggishly.

But his eyes, they are broken, horribly humiliated and distressed.

Tony wants to bundle him up and hide him away forever.

“I’ll fucking kill them. Give me their names right now, I swear they will be dead before they make it home” he seethes. Ned looks at Peter desperately, the boy is shaking, his face is marred with bruising and blood, red angry lines circle his torso from the rope burn.

Tony’s never wanted blood more than he has in this moment.

“Please, Mr Stark, please just get us home” Peter says softly, voice wobbly and defeated.

Tony wants to argue, wants his revenge right now.

But there’s two kids shivering and naked in front of him. Two kids that have been attacked and abused and humiliated.

That’s his priority.

Shucking off his jacket he quickly tosses it to Ned, allowing the boy to hide his body. He pulls off his hoodie next, wrapping it around Peters slim waist. Peter flinches and holds on to the material. His eyes are blank now, distant.

“Where are your clothes?” Tony asks gently now, as if talking to a wounded animal. “They took them” he gets in response, almost inaudible.

“Okay. There’s got to be clothes in the school, do you both have gym gear?” He gets quiet nods.

Two of the most lively and energetic teenagers he’s ever encountered in his life, broken into silence.

He bites his tongue to stop himself from screaming.

They move into the halls, Tony walking ahead to afford the teenagers some modesty. The boys disappear into the locker rooms and emerge dressed in gym shorts and shirts. Their eyes are suspiciously more wet and red, as if they shared a moment behind the safety of the bathroom door.

Only they could understand the trauma they had just endured.

Tony felt out of place, inadequate.

He walked the pair to his awaiting car, watching as they climbed slowly and silently into the back seat. Tony dutifully buckled himself up in the front seat, adjusting his mirror to see the friends both looking out their windows, both hiding the slide of tears cascading their cheeks. Suffering alone and in silence.

Tony feels murderous and devastated all at once and it consumes him.

Ned climbs out at his stop thanking Tony gratefully and quietly, he pauses before closing the door, “it wasn’t your fault Peter. Please don’t blame yourself” he says gently, jaw set steely, eyes brimmed with unshed tears. Tony watches Peter drop his head in shame, eyes locked to the floor of the car.

They pull into the tower garage. Tony ignores the tremble in Peters shoulders.

He knows this embarrassment. He knows the shame of having people need to rescue you, see you at your worst. He tries to offer Peter that dignity, lets the boy walk ahead, hands gripped into fists, a brave determination to get to the lab.

Tony follows behind, feeling utterly useless.

They enter the lab, the sanctuary. Peter presses his hands to the cold steel of the counter, eyes shut and lip caught in his teeth.

“Kid, we can work later. What do you need” Tony says gently, as non pitying as he can manage.

Peter looks at him helplessly, some of the hard determination already cracking. He looks lost. Afraid. Devastated.

Tony moves quickly. He catches the boy before he falls, wrapping his arms tightly around the now sobbing hysterically teenager.

He squeezes tight, the pressure he knows Peter likes. Peters legs are boneless, unable to hold his weight. So they slide to the floor, Tony’s back pressed against the cold wall, Peter curled on top of him, sobbing loudly into his neck, hands gripping Tony’s tee.

“Let it out, let it all out. It’s okay. You’re okay” Tony gentles. He brings his hand up, running it through the shaking child’s hair, soothing and rubbing to calm down the heartwrenching sobs.

Tony feels his own eyes prickle, a heavy dread weighing on his whole being.

His kid was hurt.

“They told Ned Betty was waiting for him on the field, that she wanted to talk to him” he hears Peter admit with a hiccup into his shoulder, the tears still falling at a steady rate.

The classic hot girl is waiting for you ploy. He had heard that one too many times.

“We didn’t believe it, Ned knew something didn’t feel right. But he wanted to see anyway. We went together” he sniffles loudly, breath shuddering and heaving.

Of course Peter was too smart to fall for it. Of course he would act as Neds army. This kid.

“There was so many of them, they were all bigger, stronger than us. The football team”

Tony knew. He saw them outside. Saw them laughing and revelling in their sick act. He wished he had killed them then.

“They pushed us around. Usually I can take the beatings, you know… but Ned was there, and he couldn’t take it” his cries pick up again, Tony thinks he won’t ever be able to get the sound of of his head.

“It’s okay, shhh, you’re safe” Tony whispers, carding his hands through the thick mattered locks.

Peter relaxed slightly, his voice still muffled into Tony’s neck.

“I had to try protect him, I fought back … I never fight back , but he was getting hurt and I - I thought - I couldn’t-“ he sobs.

“And then they started calling us names, started insinuating things, it was my fault that they got more mad. They took our clothes, they tied us up… they just stood there and laughed and took pictures and … Mr Stark, I was so humiliated” he breaks on the last word, his story told, his tears persistent.

Tony’s own tears rolled down his cheeks, his stomach clenched in sadness, distress.

How could he help? What could ever fix this?

“It’s not your fault Pete, you tried to save Ned, that’s all that matters” he reassures wetly, pulling Peters limp body closer to his, ignoring the ache in his legs.

Peter just cried, and Tony let him. What else could he do?

. .

Tony scans the group of teenagers in front of him. Lined up, and all slightly pale.

It had taken some persuasion, but eventually Peter had caved, giving the names of the 8 boys involved. It hadn’t taken much to convince (with a promise of generous funding and to not print the story of violent bullying to blacken the schools name) the principle to let him manage the discipline. To deliver the punishment.

He was going to enjoy this.

“Here’s how this is going to go. You’re all going to run the length of this field, goal to goal. You stop running? You’re expelled. You stop, you admit your guilt. Got it?” He smiles wolfishly.

They were all expelled anyway. They just didn’t know it yet.

“And because I know you boys like to stick together, this is done as a team. You fall behind - expelled. Say goodbye to the scholarships, to any college wanting you” He mocks with a snarl.

The boys whiten further, some look like they want to protest, argue their doomed fate.

At least they are all smart enough not to fight Iron Man.

So they run.

And they drop like flies. One by one.

Some of them cry, beg for forgiveness. Others curse and promise lawyers and media involvement.

One boy runs through it.

The one that stripped their clothes and took them home.

Tony almost wants to stay and watch until the teens legs cramp and he falls to his doom. But he’s also got his own teenager waiting for him.

He activated the wrist gauntlet, admiring it for a moment before rising it with a blank impassive face. He fires it right where the boys foot would have landed, if the small blast hadn’t knocked him off his feet and face first into the muddy ground.

Tony stalks over to the withering teen, anger and vengeance in every step. He grabs the boys collar, dragging him to the rest of the panting miserable boys.

“You think you’ve learnt a lesson here today?”

They groan and curse, heads down and ashamed.

“I said.” He punctuates more venomously. “Have you learnt your lesson? Or should I tie you up and leave you overnight hanging from the goal posts”

The boys are quick to respond with yes sirs this time.

“You are all so goddamn lucky you aren’t in jail right now. You’re sick and twisted and you’re not worth the dirt on my shoes. Prison would be too good for you. Instead, enjoy a life of failed opportunities and disappointment. All because of a bit of good fun was it?” He smiles, baring all his teeth with the threat.

The boys are silent, but they understand.

“I hope you remember this day. I hope you go into your sad sorry lives knowing that your behaviour and your disgusting, vile actions led you here. Those boys won’t be able to forget what you put them through. Now you won’t be able to forget what I’ll put you through if you ever so think to cross me or those kids again. Do you hear me?” More quiet yessirs. Pleased Tony nods his head. Turning on his heel and begins to exit the godforsaken field, hopefully, for the last time. He pauses for a moment, turning to face the sullen seniors.

“Those two boys are worth 20 of each of you. I can’t wait to see them succeed and know you will watching from your shitty apartments in your shitty lives.”

He walks away with that. Leaving the teenagers to wallow in their losses. To mourn their futures.

Peter’s waiting for him by the car when he returns.

“You think pretending to shoot at him was a bit over the top?” Peter smirks, opening the door and sliding into the passenger seat.

Tony smiles back, a feigned frown on his brow “I wasn’t pretending, I just missed”

Peter looks at him with a horrified amusement, obviously unsure as to whether or not Tony was lying.

Tony knows though. If anyone were to hurt his kid again… he wouldn’t miss.

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winsister91 · 6 years ago

Text

Make Amends

Part Eleven - Guardians

This series is a sequel to Breaking A Promise.

Characters: Dean x reader, Sam, Crowley, Cas and...an ofc...who I won’t spoil

Warnings: Language, flangst, canon-typical violence, more violence, abduction, reader being a cocky fucker

Word Count: 2300~

A/N: Hey, who remembers this series? I know I don’t! *sigh* In all honesty, I’ve had this sat waiting to go for a while but I’m starting to have doubts with this series, maybe should have written it as an ofc rather than a reader, the plot is too out there etc etc more self depricating shit. Also, I’ve hit a bit of a block with it too, and I got so many other projects going on right now...yup excuse after excuse. I don’t know if anyone is still reading this or even remembers what’s going on, but I REFUSE to repeat what happened with my abandoned series, Three Wrongs Make a Right. I WILL finish this, even if it’s just for my own enjoyment, I can only apologise if the chapters come sporadically. If you are reading, you may need a reminder ‘cause I know I did, hit up that series masterlist for a catch up. Also, thank you so much if you are reading, your patience is remarkable.

Series Masterlist Full Masterlist

~ Series and forever tags are open! ~

“Crowley,” you mumble to yourself with a determined frown. You recognize that voice anywhere. Your eyes dart up to the rafter when you can just make out a shadowy outline. Without a moment’s hesitation, you roar with rage, firing an anger-fuelled magic blast up towards him. It explodes chaotically, shattering the wooden beams into nothing but shards and splinters, but no sign of the demon.

“Y/N!” Dean shouts to get your attention, “We got problems here first!”

You bring your eye line back to ground level, standing back to back with the two brothers as the crowd of demons slowly close in on you all.

“We got a plan?” Sam mumbles, looking around trying to do a headcount, ten demons and an invisible hellhound skulking around, “How the hell are we getting out of here?”

“I’m working on it,” Dean grimaces, scowling at the hoard as it grows closer.

“I’ve got to get Crowley,” you growl, pulling an angel blade from inside your jacket, your eyes following the Hellhound prowling the outskirts of the room, waiting for its moment “I got the puppy.”

“Y/N!” Dean shouts as you step forward.

One of the demons decides to try for a preemptive strike, lunging for you the second you broke away from the boys. You already suspected one of them would try something stupid like that. You roll your eyes, effortlessly twirling the blade in your grasp and plunging it straight into his heart before he could so much as enter your personal space. He cries out in agony, his veins glowing bright orange before flickering away to nothing and dropping to the floor in a clumsy heap.

Your actions spark the rest of the demons to attack. You see Sam and Dean jumping to action in the corner of your eye, taking on one each, but that still left you majorly outnumbered as rest made a beeline for you.

“Give it up, freak,” a particularly plucky female in the group spits at you, “You’re outnumbered.”

“You have no idea what you’re fucking with here do you?” you tilt your head and laugh in bemusement.

The group doesn’t stop, two of them brandishing particularly nasty looking daggers and lunging for you. Automatically, on instinct, you wave your hand, eyes glinting blue as they are forced back and collide into the Hellhound shaped dent in the wall.

Before you can turn and make a sarcastic quip at the remainder of the group, one tackles you to the ground. You drop the angel blade in the collision and it clatters to the ground and rolls out of reach.

“Y/N!” you hear Dean shout again, swiftly followed by the cry of the demon he just lodged the demon blade into.

The demon that tackled you grabs your throat, squeezing with all its strength. You choke for air, one hand on the clasped to the monster’s wrist trying to break its hold, the other stretched out to your blade trying to reach it.

Gimme!!

The blade zaps into your awaiting palm, you instantly jam it straight into the demon’s throat. His body drops with dead weight onto you, making you groan in disgust and annoyance. You shove him off you, retrieving your trust weapon and getting back to your feet.

Dean was working his way over to you, taking out three demons single-handedly on the way, arriving at your side just as you were getting to your feet.

“You ok?” he asks urgently, his face and torso were spattered with specks of blood.

“I’m good,” you gasp. Your eyes flash blue briefly and your angel blade glides over Dean’s shoulder, burying itself into the demon trying to pull a sneak attack, “Huh, better than good.”

You summon the blade back, glancing around the room for your next target. Sam and Dean had been busy while you were playing murderous magic tricks. The room was littered with bodies, the only movement coming from the two demons you’d catapulted earlier, now groggily getting to their feet. You wave your hand, forcing them to bang their heads together and knock themselves out. You chuckle, admiring your slapstick handiwork and starting to appreciate having the old mojo back.

“You two okay?” Sam jogs over to you and Dean, all three of now donning the splattered with blood’ attire.

“Yeah,” Dean answers, his hand trembling while he held Ruby’s demon blade, “Fucking Crowley, that son of a bitch!”

“Wait,” you mumble, laying your hand on Dean’s arm subconsciously. Your eyes are narrowed, scanning the entire room, “Where’s the Hellhound?”

The three of you go rigid, slowly turning and looking around for any sign of it. You furrow your brow in bewilderment while your heart beats with fear.

It can’t be here, I could see the damn the thing. It surely wouldn’t suddenly go invisible again…?

“I think you gave her the spooks…” a gruff voice retorts behind you. You turn and set eyes upon the King of Hell, and instant fire of anger sparking in your belly, “Must’ve done a runner.”

The corner of his mouth twitches with a small smirk.

“Crowley!” Dean snarls, shaking your hand off his arm and marching straight for the demon.

“Dean!” you cry after him, totally panicked at where this was going. Sam strides forwards as well, joining his brother. You can only watch as Crowley nonchalantly flicks his wrist and both Winchesters smash into the wall behind, suspended by an invisible force around the throat.

There’s a sting in your eyes as you look up at them both briefly, but then you turn back to Crowley. The fire burns hotter in your guts, making you clench your fists and jaw.

“Enough,” you say calmly, trying to hold it back, “I’m not going. You tried and you failed.”

You falter in your breathing, glancing up at Dean who grunts in pain above you. You blink your eyes quickly to focus back to Crowley.

“You three,” the King of Hell spits, “are such a god damned pain in my arse d’ya know that? You have to make everything difficult!”

“Don’t go underestimating how much more difficult I can make this,” you threaten as you momentarily fantasize the numerous ways you could kill him right now.

Crowley’s chest heaves and he splutters a laugh, “Y-you?” he points in mockery, “You think you can take me!?”

“Y/N, don’t,” Sam manages to choke out, but you keep your eyes firmly locked where they stand.

“Y/N!” Dean roars, trying to get you to listen. Your heart skips hearing the desperation and pain in his voice.

But I have to find out where the witches are. Crowley is the key. Then, I’ll kill him.

You glance down at the angel blade in your hand, you didn't even realize how much you were shaking. You blame Crowley for last year. If he hadn’t have taken Dean away, you would have never sought out the potion and started the first fire. If Crowley never plotted with “Demon Dean” to have you trapped down in that basement, The Red Dragon Inn would still be standing. All those people wouldn’t have died.

You twirl the blade in your grasp. “Do you wanna see a magic trick Crowley?” you ask, a smirk playing on your lips.

The King tilts his head in slight curiosity, “Humor me,” he chuckles.

“Y/N!” Dean roars again, but he almost a white noise to you know.

“You ever seen Guardians of the Galaxy?” you ask with a sadistic smile.

He doesn’t answer, just furrows his brow. You shrug, shoulders shaking as you laugh, “Nevermind.”

The boys watch on, still wincing in pain and gasping for breaths, “Y/N...don’t please!” Dean pleads.

Your eyes flash with light, the angel blade now levitating before your face. You playfully wink as Crowley sighs and shoves his hands in his coat pocket feigning boredom. You purse your lips and whistle, the weapon now swooshing and gliding around in the air, dancing around the room gracefully.

“Cute,” Crowley chuckles with a raised eyebrow, “but-”

He stops as you suddenly whistle a high pitched harsh tone, and the blade shoots for his face, directly stopping a couple of millimeters before his nose.

“Very cute,” he smiles with a glare, “What do you want?”

“Who’s trying to bring the potion back?” you ask hurriedly, “Why? Where are they?!”

“Darling, Princess,” he shakes his head still wearing a cocky grin, “What do I get in return for such information?”

“I’ll give you a headstart,” you scoff, “I’ll only kill you after I’ve killed all of them.”

You feel a draft of hot humid air brush over the back of your neck. You freeze, the very audible growl of something extremely pissed off stood behind you.

“Oh,” Crowley beams, “Looks like Betsy came back.”

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

“Y/N!!” Dean bellows, tears filling his eyes painfully at your screams. The Hellhound had tackled you, hurtling you both over the bar and out of sight. His heart races, screaming your name over and over with all the force he could. Sam clenches his eyes closed, trying to bite back the outburst he could feel building rapidly.

Your cries of pain dwindle to nothing and a thick silence fills the air. The brothers stare at the bar, waiting for something, anything, just some indicator that you are alive.

“No,” Dean clenches his jaw and bares his teeth, unsuccessfully holding back his tears, “N-not like this…”

Sam’s head drops, his hair falling in front of his face, hiding his grimaces of torment.

“NOT BECAUSE OF FUCKING YOU!” Dean roars at the King of Hell.

“Oh relax,” Crowley rolls his eyes, “I’m not gonna kill her when we need her.”

“You son of a bitch, you just wait,” Dean spits, “I’ll fucking rip you apart limb from limb.”

Dean could feel it, that itch in his arm, he clenches his fist and doesn’t fight it this time. He wants the mark to fuel him so he can get his kill.

“I told you to relax!” Crowley patronizes him, “We’re gonna have a little road trip! Me, Squirrel and Princess!”

The brothers look upon him in bewilderment, “What the hell are you talking about?” Sam grunts.

“Oh, Moose…” Crowley sighs and looks at him in disappointment, “I’m afraid you're not invited.”

Another idle flick of Crowley’s wrist and Sam finds himself smashing into a nearby table head first, and everything suddenly dropped to black.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

“Sam!”

Sam felt his shoulders being shaken, but he couldn’t find the strength to open his eyes. He feels something touch his temple firmly, followed by a warm sensation, and his body sudden feels revitalized. He jolts awake, shaking head and rubbing his eyes into focus.

“Sam,” Castiel sat before him, his hand moving away from Sam’s forehead, “Are you alright?”

“Uh...yeah,” he replies, getting to his feet and finally remembering what happened. He was still in the bar, bodies of demon’s still scattered around, but no sign of Crowley or Dean, “Y/N!”

Sam runs to the bar, jumping over it swiftly and looking around for you, but there’s no sign of you either, just a lot of broken glass and pools of blood.

He can’t speak, his heart freezing and becoming breathless.

“Sam, what happened?” Cas asks urgently, “Y/N sent an SOS out on Angel Radio and I came immediately.”

“Sh- she did that?” Sam gasps, blood draining from his face, “Cas...I...He knocked me unconscious, I couldn’t do anything.”

“Who knocked you unconscious?” Cas grabs Sam’s forearms, “Where is Dean and Y/N?”

Sam’s jaw trembles, partly in anxiety and also in anger, “They’re not here...he- Crowley has taken them.”

“Where?”

“I-I don’t know.”

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

Your eyes slowly open, they feel swollen and bruised. Your hands are bound by something cold, iron shackles. You’re curled up on a stone floor, there are markings on it around you, looks like an Angel Trap. Your eyes sting as they try to focus, a bright light dazing you. You wince in pain as you try to blink them into focus, finally noting that the light is coming from a large ring of fire surrounding you.

Where the fuck am I?

You sit up, trying to look past the flames to see the surrounding walls, but the fire glares in your eyes too much to see.

Is that….holy fire?

You try to sit up, white-hot pain wracking your body as you do. You can see your arms and chest covered in hot sticky gashes and grazes from the Hellhound’s claws. You can also feel the same sensation straight across your cheek, the familiar feeling of congealed dried blood across it too and pulling at your skin.

There’s a parting in the flames and a hooded figure walks through. It stops in front of you, kneels down and holds a finger under your chin which you violently shake off.

“Long time no see Y/N,” a familiar voice echoes from inside the hood. A voice that triggers pleasant memories, one you were used to hearing in a positive tone. Now however, the tone is different, darker and sinister.

You don’t answer, but narrow your brow trying to place the voice. You have a mild suspicion, but you know that it’s impossible.

A pair of slim hands reach onto the edges of the hood and slowly pull it down. Blonde hair. A face that wouldn’t melt butter. A face that you were once delighted to see.

“J-Jenny?”

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