#will sit down to rewatch this alone in the dark when it's quiet

[typhoonstrikes]

“even if they hunt me, i'll just run away! i'll run, run, run, and keep running as far as i have to!” “and when things calm down, i'll quietly settle by their side again.“ “i’m vash the stampede.”

[hellishjoel]

scream queen

6.6k / pairing: ghostface!joel miller x f!reader

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summary: A stalker outside your window at night forces you to beg for your life in more ways than one. You do what it takes because you're a survivor. And you kind of like the mask on. A/N: please heed these warnings, as they can be triggering for some individuals. No one is forcing you to read this, and if it sounds unappealing, please keep scrolling. This is far different from what I usually post, but I’m feeling spooky and have rewatched the entire Scream franchise in 72 hours. Indented chat means ghostface’s voice changer is on. Thank you to Emmie @hyzer34 for the FREAKING AMAZING ghostface!joel edits! 

warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), horror, dark ghostface!joel, dubious consent (dubcon via manipulation/guilt/survival), reader has a boyfriend (what a drag) so I guess cheating/infidelity, swearing, taunting/stalker behavior, masked anonymous individual, strip show to save a life, male masturbation, threat of violence/death, begging for life, manhandling, spanking, rough oral (face fucking)(m!receiving), pet names, praise kink, degradation kink, clit smacking (?), life-threatening knifeplay, unprotected sex (p in v), the mask stays on ladies, plot twist ending? very barely edited heads-up

You gasp shakily as his hand carefully caresses your tit, thumb featherlight over your nipple, before he cups and lightly squeezes your juicy flesh.  You swallow down a lump and cower before him. You’re afraid for when he goes lower what he might find, how your slick is dampening your thighs, and your clit is pulsating for him. You need him. It’s sick, gross, disgusting, but you need him.  “Please, Mr.,” you trail off, unsure of what to call him.  “Ghostface.” He aids, and you quickly nod as your lips part. Your worst fear is coming true as his calloused hand and rough fingertips guide themselves further down the soft skin of your stomach and to your panties.  “Please, Mr. Ghostface, I’ll do whatever you want me to do.” You can’t help but feel tears welling in your eyes once more.  The masked man sighs and slowly shakes his head in shame.  “I don’t think it’s about what I want to do to you. But what you want me to do to you.”

It was a quiet fall evening. You sat on your boyfriend’s couch, ankles crossed along the extent of the cushions as you leafed through what was available on different streaming services. You wanted something spooky for Halloween but not something that would over-excite your imagination while alone. You’re wearing the same thing he left you in, red panties and an oversized black tee you had snagged from his closet. 

You figure your boyfriend should be home soon, so you start a bag of popcorn in the microwave. You sit up on the counter and kick your feet gently against the cabinets as you watch the time tick down, listening to each pop as it slowly rattles up its pace. 

Your phone’s ring catches your attention back in the living room. You assume it’s your boyfriend as you hop off the counter and swipe it from the arm of the chair. 

Unknown Caller

With a roll of your eyes, your tongue rutting out against your cheek, you deny the call. Probably a wrong number or an asshole troll since Halloween was nearing. You’re about to turn back to the kitchen, hearing the popcorn bag rattling with intensity when your phone goes off again. 

Stopped in your tracks, you watch your phone buzz with uncertainty as the screen flashes with the Unknown Caller tag once more. 

All of a sudden, the air is tight in your lungs, and your body is riddled with goosebumps. Now you were annoyed. You slid across the call button and pushed the phone to your ear. 

“You have the wrong number. Stop fucking calling me.”  You jam the blaring red end call button before huffing and returning to your popcorn. 

The timer slowly counts down, but each pop from the bag makes you jump. 5… 4… 3… 2… 1… 

Your body jolts as you hear something pound against the windows, throwing yourself back against the counter with wide eyes. 

“What the fuck!” You gasp as you rotate your head, searching from open window to open window where the banging was coming from. But there was nothing. No one. Your heart rate is slowly increasing, you can feel it jumping in your wrist and your neck.

Your feet quickly skid across the room, locking the house’s back door before running back towards the front entrance, flicking the lock in place. Even if it was nothing, at least you were safe. 

Standing still in the entryway, you observed the home to be dead quiet. Your fears were still nesting on your shoulders, that you weren’t alone. 

Your phone rings again, causing you to jump from the silence you had grown used to. With a distasteful grimace, you glance around as you walk towards your phone. You accept the call with hesitancy.  

“Who is this?” You ask, already maneuvering around the house and shutting all the curtains and blinds in your wake. “Whoever the hell you are, just stop fucking calling me.”  You try not to let the panic that’s sitting in your throat be exposed over the phone. Whoever has called you hasn’t spoken yet. 

“Hello?” You ask, pausing in the kitchen as you finish your rounds around the first floor. 

“Now that is how you answer a phone call.” The voice isn’t familiar, it’s almost… animatronic? It didn’t sound like a person, but the languidness of their voice was all too human. It was low, primal. 

Now, you’ve seen these movies before, you weren’t an idiot, and you weren’t going to be one tonight. 

“What are you going to ask me? What’s my favorite scary movie?” You taunt, yanking the microwave door open and retrieving the piping hot bag of popcorn from inside, sucking in a harsh breath as your fingertips branded red from the heat. 

The voice on the line laughs. It’s almost sinister, not at all comforting. You’re not even sure why you’re entertaining this jackass who’s calling you when all they’ve done so far is giggle at your expense. 

“How did you even get this number, you fucking troll?” You probe, frowning as you squeeze your phone between your cheek and shoulder as you pry open the popcorn bag. Of course, it bursts, sending a few pieces scattered around the kitchen. You simply roll your eyes and sigh at the inconvenience. 

“Why don’t you be a good girl and clean up the mess you made?” 

You squat down to pick up the kernels you dropped, only realizing the extent of what the voice said a moment later. Your eyes widen, and your chest surges with panic. You look around, but all the windows are closed and covered. Was that just a lucky guess, or is someone watching you? 

Out of instinct, you reach for the knife block on the kitchen counter and yank out the biggest one. The blade gleams silver in the light, and you realize how exposed you are. 

You set down the knife on the counter and quickly move around the house, shutting off the lights and concealing you in a dim darkness. 

“What happened to the show? Why did the curtain close?” The low, sinister voice asks, and you whimper quietly in your hand to conceal your fear. “I liked watching you walk around,” he pauses, and all you can hear is your heart pounding, “in those red little panties.” 

You hate to admit that this flicks a nasty switch in you, chased and taunted, talked down to by an unknown figure. As much as you’re scared, a small churning begins low in your tummy, and you clench your thighs tighter together. 

With a shaky breath, you nibble on your lower lip and slowly move towards the front windows. You slowly peek them open, seeing nothing but your reflection and darkness. 

“Can you see me?” You ask nervously, licking at your lower lip. 

“Ahhh, there she is.” The voice praises, forcing you to swallow a lump down your throat. “Push those curtains open all the way. Want to see all of you.” You shiver, and the pooling in your panties only becomes more urgent. Someone’s watching you, and they like what they see. 

Following the anonymous caller’s instructions, you slowly push open the curtains, your body backlist by a dim light still on in the kitchen. The voice hums in appreciation. 

You blame it on your state of panic for not thinking clearly or logically for that manner. This creep wanted you, you could hear the slight desperation clinging to their voice. 

“Promise me you won’t fuckin’ harm me, and I-I’ll put on a show for you. Isn’t that what you want? You said you liked my panties.” You breathily point out, opting to put the phone on speakerphone and setting it down on the bench in front of the now curtain-drawn windows. 

The voice on the other line hums, pondering your offer. A shiver rolls over your spine as you subconsciously cross your arms in front of your body, scared and nerve-wracked. 

“You have a gorgeous body. Let me see it. All of it.” The voice echoes within the quiet home, and you blink back the fear that is resting heavily on your chest. You take in a shaky breath and do as you are told. 

Your hands go to the hem of your top, about to lazily toss it off when you are tsk tsk-ed at. You frown and quickly pull the t-shirt back down. 

“Not like that!” The voice barks, angry and condescending, making you whimper. The voice pauses and takes a breath. “Slower.” 

“Slower..” you whisper back, hearing the voice hum. You still couldn’t see outside, merely darkness and your reflection. You were fucking terrified, but if this was what they wanted, just maybe they’d let you be. 

You try again. Your hands slowly start at the sides of your neck, pretty and dainty fingers cascading down to your clavicle. You push one hand into the hair at the back of your neck, lightly ruffling the strands while the other skims lower to more dangerous territory. 

The heel of your palm skirts down the front of your shirt until your fingers flitter over the hem of your panties. 

It feels stupid what you’re doing, but it makes you feel alive. Your heart has never beat faster. You’ve never turned on a complete stranger, stalker, even. You were in control of the show here. 

You’re not exactly sure what to look at in the window, so you admire the reflection. You hum sweetly as you hook your thumbs into the tops of your panties. You loop them around, from front to back, stopping at the sides and lightly pushing down to show glimpses of your hips. 

The breathing on the other end shuffles. It almost makes you stop. 

“This turn you on?” You ask. “Does this make you have your hand around your cock?” You ask into the phone, smiling lightly as you turn around, lifting up the shirt from covering your ass, giving them a peek-a-boo of you from the back. 

The evil voice echoes a laugh. “How did you know?” 

Being correct makes you all the more turned on. “How could you not?” 

I mean, look at you. You looked gorgeous and confident, silhouetted by the light, awed by a strange man. You can hear them jerking it on the line, murmuring little grunts to try and not get ahead of themselves. The show had just begun. 

With your back turned to the window still, you cross your arms over your threshold, retrieve your shirt, and lift it up and off of you. Your hair cascades and dances around your back and shoulders. You felt bare, cold. Part of you wished they would come inside and warm you up. 

You peer over your shoulder, hearing the approving grunt on speakerphone. You bit on your thumbnail, looking through the glass with big doe eyes. 

“You’re not so innocent, pretty girl. Let me see you.” 

Now, with your body to show, you felt a bit more nervous. Your fingertips twitched, and you felt shaky on your legs. You did as the voice asked, turning to face the window. Your arms are crossed, covering your bare breasts meekly. 

That’s when you see him. A masked man standing a fair distance away out your window. It quickens your pulse and surges you with adrenaline. 

Yet you don’t run. You don’t hide. 

Your eyes flitter down to their hand shuffling up and down the extent of their cock. The sight alone, even in the dark, being able to see his impressive length was enough to make you let out a needy whimper.

“I-I don’t know about this,” you whimper, your head falling a bit shamefully. It’s like your head caught up with your foolish actions. 

“I’m warning you. Put down your fucking arms.” 

You let out a shaky breath and wince at the voice, tears simmering on your waterline. You put yourself in this position, you can’t believe you thought this would work. 

You slowly drop your hands to your sides, exposing your breasts. And how embarrassing they were, taut and at peaks. They were flush with color, begging for attention. You interlocked your fingers behind your back and chewed on your bottom lip, shyly looking down at the floor as you clamped your thighs tightly together. 

“You’re a real beautiful girl,” the voice grunted, flattering you with attention. “Why don’t you let me in.” 

The demand didn’t frighten you like maybe it should have. Frankly, you were turned on to the point where it nearly hurt. You didn’t know who this mystery person was or what their intentions were, but they were getting off to seeing you exposed, scared, and alone. 

“Come on,” the voice continues. You hear shuffling, and when you look up, the masked man outside your window is gone. You move closer and peer outside, but it’s quiet. Empty. 

“Let me take care of you, sweet girl.” 

Breaths fans out hastily from your nostrils, panicked as you looked around slowly from the front entrance to the back. 

The doorbell rings, and it makes you jump nonetheless. 

You bite down on your bottom lip as you retrieve your phone and slowly cross to the door in just your socks and underwear. Your forearm covers your breasts. Your hand rests on the handle, but you have a hard time willing yourself to open it. 

The doorbell rings again, another jump through your bones, but this time, it implores you to swing the door open. And there he was. 

He was tall, you had to crane your neck to look up. Your lips part, doe eyes taking in how close he is, stepping back in shock at his appearance. Broad shoulders cloaked by a black hooded robe. It was tattered, lined with rips and tears at the seams that draped from his arms. He also wore large, black, combat boots. The scariest thing of all was the mask. It was white with black eyes and a sloped open black mouth. 

Whoever was behind the mask was fit. Their toned body could be discovered even behind the robust black robe. He wore black gloves, too. You don’t realize that as you’re taking him in, the protective arm you had concealing your breasts has since lowered. 

“Scary night to be alone, isn’t it?” The voice is still animatronic as the masked man’s head tilts and observes you through the black cloth eye holes. 

You nod your head, its pace quick. 

“Invite me in. Don’t want you to catch a chill.” 

It was disturbing to admit how stupid you felt letting this freakshow stalker into your boyfriend’s home, but in a really weird and taboo way, you found the anonymity of the man attractive. You saw his cock while he stood outside, his large hand stroking over himself at the sight of your body. You figure he must have put the gloves back on once he wanted to come inside. 

As if he could read your mind, the masked man stepped inside with his tall stature looming over yours. He slowly plucked off one of his gloves, and you see his flesh. 

You watch him carefully as he brings his hand to cup your cheek. You flinch at first, but there is truly nothing to be frightened of. He strokes away a dry, panicked tear from earlier. You can’t help but let out a shaky, wavering whimper. He touches you with such delicacy but hides behind a mask that scares you to your core. 

“Just as I thought,” His animatronic voice echoed, his hand dropping to your hair that fell around your face and sweeping it behind your shoulder. “You’re beautiful.”

Your hair was no longer concealing your breasts. You gasp shakily as his hand carefully caresses your tit, thumb featherlight over your nipple, before he cups and lightly squeezes your juicy flesh. 

You swallow down a lump and cower before him. You’re afraid for when he goes lower what he might find, how your slick is dampening your thighs, and your clit is pulsating for him. You need him. It’s sick, gross, disgusting, but you need him. 

“Please, Mr.,” you trail off, unsure of what to call him. 

“Ghostface.” He aids, and you quickly nod as your lips part. Your worst fear is coming true as his calloused hand and rough fingertips guide themselves further down the soft skin of your stomach and to your panties. 

“Please, Mr. Ghostface, I’ll do whatever you want me to do.” You can’t help but feel tears welling in your eyes once more. 

The masked man sighs and slowly shakes his head in shame. 

“I don’t think it’s about what I want to do to you. But what you want me to do to you.” He aggressively cups your sex, feeling his fingers squish with the soaked material of your red panties. You whimper and clutch his arm, biting back whimpery moans that you’re so desperate to let out. You were secretly begging to be touched. Your thighs clamp around the man’s hand. 

He deviously chuckles. “This is all for me, sweet girl?” 

The man walks you backward until your back is flushed to the wall. You’re still holding his arm in place between your thighs. His fingers add pressure to your bundle of nerves. You lightly grind your hips down into his fingers and let out an embarrassed little moan. 

“Y-Yes.” Admitting in defeat made your stomach churn. “But I want to hear your voice.” You whisper, unsure if you can even make demands in your position right now. 

Ghostface sighs weakly but plucks something out from under his mask. It looks sort of like a smaller walkie-talkie. It was a voice changer. Your eyes flitter to the eyes of his mask. It was black, empty. Finally, you would hear his true voice, and you prayed it was as sexy as he looked. 

“Is this what you wanted to hear, darlin’?” 

You lightly gasp at the southern drawl, deep and guttural, musk-filled and leaving you in a tailspin. His voice was hot, causing a pool of your white-hot heat to leak once more into your panties. You finally nod to his question and let your hands skim across the man’s front. He was toned, like you imagined, with hardened plains and a toughened, thick torso under his black cloak. 

“You’re comin’ with me.” The voice growls. He leans down and scoops you up, throwing you over his shoulder as you gasp and whimper, feeling him trail you up the stairs. His black combat boots echo loudly through the stairwell. He’s so strong. How he knows the layout of the house scares you and implores you. It’s like he knows you, and you may know him. 

He takes you to the master bedroom, the one you share with your boyfriend. Fuck, your boyfriend. A naughty sin to cheat, a naughty sin to like it. It’s hard to picture him right now with the man above you captivating your full attention. 

Your breasts jiggle when he throws you back onto the mattress. You scramble further up it, putting a safe distance between you and Ghostface. He grips you at your ankles and pulls you to him in an eager yank. A cry escapes your throat, but it’s just because you’re nervous. You saw how big he was in his hand outside, and now, soon, you’d hope he would be inside of you. 

“Please,” you whimper, and Ghostface tilts his head. “I-I..” you trail off and shake your head, embarrassment and shame pumping through your veins. 

“You, what? Spit it out, pretty girl.” The voice says as he slowly takes off the hooded robe. He wears black pants and a black t-shirt under it but keeps the mask on. You like the mask on. 

“I… I need you, Mr. Ghostface, please,” you whimper. Since he pulled you by your ankles back to the edge of the bed, your centers lightly graze one another. You make it a point to grind your hips eagerly into his, smearing the front of his pants with your slick. 

The masked man hums in appreciation. You feel his hardened length concealed by his pants. Whimpers leave your mouth as you sit up and reach forward, unbuttoning the black pants with shaky hands. You unzip him and yank him free of his confines. You nearly freeze at his length, prominent veins lining up and down his cock from his pink tip to his swollen balls. 

“You wanna live tonight, baby girl?” The low southern voice asks. You quickly nod, big, desperate eyes wanting to fill his every carnal need. 

“Then get on your fucking knees, m’gonna fuck your throat.” 

He’s aggressive as he pulls you down onto the floor by your hair. You scream out of instinct, but the heat on your scalp brings needy relief. 

You quickly scramble properly to your knees and shuffle your hand over him. One hand isn’t enough, so you add your second. He’s so large and girthy. Fucking your mouth would hurt so good. You hope you’re a slobbering mess for him once he’s done with you. 

“Did I say your hands?” You frown and slowly stop, shaking your head. “I said your throat, want your fucking throat, you little slut.” 

You whimper and force yourself to put your hands behind your back, your breasts perking out more as you spit over him, watching it glide down his shaft and spill onto your shaking thighs. You lick your lips and wrap your mouth around his sensitive tip. 

The masked man seethes through his teeth. He takes off both gloves and knots his fingers into your hair. You’re intimidated by his size, anyone would be, so you try to relax your throat and let him sink further and further in. 

Your eyes go wide as he rams himself down your throat impatiently. Your hands instinctively fly up to his thighs, smacking at them and clutching desperately, trying to explain with a lack of words that you’re choking on him. You cry out, but his cock muffles you. 

“M’not a patient man, I’m warning you now.” 

You clench your teary eyes closed and sniffle, trying your best to swallow around him and breathe through your nose. Your black mascara tears turns him on, and he twitches in your mouth. 

With a shaky breath, you try again. You have to start slow at first, but you remember how impatient he is. You slick his cock with your spit, trying to work up his shaft inch by inch. 

“Open your mouth up, nice and wide for me.” The sight of his mask makes you twitch, but you do as he says and drop your jaw for him. You even go as far as to stick out your tongue for him. 

“Wow,” he admires, as both of his hands wind up into your hair and carve out sections of your hair to create ponytails in his fists. “Such a good girl f’me.” 

His praise makes you purr, bringing your hands up to your front as you massage over the squishy flesh of your tits. 

You let out a low mewl as he stuffs your mouth again, stuffing your face with his cock. It takes a few moments, but you gradually learn how to accommodate him. He hits the back of your throat repeatedly, and he likes it when you choke around him. You try to see him through your teary eyes, whimpering around his cock. 

The masked man’s grip on your hair tightens as he pulls you into his cock and holds you there, balls flushed to your mouth as they smack against your chin. He groans, long and low, holding you down as his cock suffocates your throat. You swallow around him, tasting drops of precum, whimpering around him as you struggle to breathe. Despite it causing you to choke even more around him, you stick out as much of your tongue as you can and teasingly lick at his balls. 

He sucks in harshly through his teeth and moans, gripping the ponytails even tighter, making your scalp sear in pain. But it was all worth it because he was so goddamn big in your throat. You hoped he would split your pussy. 

With a harsh yank, the masked man rips you from his cock. You instantly cough and gag, trying to swallow around the excessive puddles of saliva grouping in the back of your throat and now dripping out of your mouth. You looked like a disgusting mess.

You plant your hands on the floor and drop your head, looking like a dog as you shakily regain your breathing. You slowly look up, seeing his hardened cock slap up against his toned stomach, dripping with your slobber. 

You meekly wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and stand up, your legs shaking beneath you. With as much courage as you can muster, you reach for Ghostface’s hand and slowly pull it to your center as you sit on the edge of the bed. 

“Please,” you beg in a meek whisper, swallowing the messy amount of existing saliva and precum down your throat as you blink through black, mucky, mascara tears. Your eyes flutter as his long, meaty fingers slowly circle around your clit through your panties. It’s jaw-dropping, stomach-fluttering madness. It’s like he knows you like the back of your hand. “Please, fuck me.” You whisper desperately, pulling him slowly towards the direction of the bed. Towards you. 

You don’t feel any more safe with him, but you like the excitement of feeling on the fence. Would he be rough or gentle with you? Call you his sweet girl or his little slut? The edging of unsureness and torrid manipulation has forced white hot heat to pool into your core, and you sure as hell spoiled these red panties enough. 

The masked man drops his gaze to your mound. His hands reach up to the sides of your hips. 

It’s slow and desperate at first, he almost fools you. Ghostface weakly chuckles before he begins to rip the measly material from your lower half. You yelp out as it causes your body to get tugged around. Your panties are now a mess of threads on the floor. You whimper desperately, clamping your thighs closed on instinct despite wanting the opposite. 

Ghostface grabs your ankles and forcibly parts your legs, turning his head slowly as he watches your glistening core. 

“Y-You could have a taste, y’know, if you take off the mask.” You offer, your heart pounding in your chest. You loosely hook your leg around his hip and pull him closer. Ghostface plants his hands on either side of your head, hovering over you as his heavy breath puffs through the mask. 

Ghostface pulls one hand away to his side and shucks something off his belt. You gasp and flinch your eyes closed as a large knife glimmers in the moon’s light. 

“You think I’m going to show you my face, you stupid bitch? Huh?” He taunts you, wielding the knife closer and closer to your throat as you cry out, but clamp your legs tighter around his waist and pull your centers together. You can feel his fat cock sliding up and down your exposed folds. You’re so needy, and it’s repulsive. 

He sickeningly laughs, jutting the tip of his knife against the underside of your chin. It hurts, it stings, and you hope it leaves a mark from him so you can look at it later when you replay this night in your mind. You hope he spares you so you can think endlessly about him. 

“I-I want you to keep the mask on.” You purr nervously, your hand drifting down your stomach towards your exposed mound. 

Ghostface chuckles, low and demonic. “You want me to fuck you with the mask on?”  He asks slowly, trilled with curiosity. 

It fills you with a pit of guilt and shame in your stomach. But you slowly nod. You were willing to risk everything, your boyfriend, your safety, your life, just to ensure this man filled you to the brim like you know he could. 

“Please do. Fuck me, Mr. Ghostface.” You beg. Though you can’t see, you imagine him smirking behind his mask, looking at you with a sense of intrigue and disgust. How could you be so twisted? 

“My pleasure.” He says goadingly, ripping the hold you had on the sheets and yanking you closer to the edge of the bed. You cry out as he forcibly spreads your legs with his body and slaps his cock against your aching center. You’re so sensitive from waiting, you needed to have him this very second. 

A smirk twitched on your lips, but you forced yourself to bite it down, shakily moaning as Ghostface tucks away his knife and wraps his large hand around his cock, lining up his tip to your dripping center. You flinch every time he purposely flicks your anxious bundle of nerves. 

“Fuck,” you whisper, your hand clutching his bicep greedily. “Please, need to feel you inside of me.” You whimper. 

Ghostface reaches up and smears his hand down your face, your cheeks smudged with your mucky tears as you whine like a little brat. For your insolence, he strikes you across the face before nastily grabbing you by your cheeks and forcing you to look at him. 

“Bein’ a real fuckin’ brat for a stranger’s dick, such a fucking hungry cock slut, aren’t you?” He degraded you to your very core, soiling his cock in your gushing slick. You were pretty sure that if he even just breathed over your mound, you would come. 

Ghostface enjoys your desperate whimpers for his dick. He’s more than happy to deliver. He angles his tip to your entrance and notches himself inside. Your gasp surges his adrenaline as he parts you egregiously. 

You hook your hands on the underside of your legs, keeping yourself wide and spread for the masked man above you. Inch by inch, you feel your head lose focus, your mind floating as you see stars that consume your vision. 

The moans you give him are heavenly, he thinks he’s never heard a more beautiful thing. He’s a sadist watching you take his cock, knowing it hurts, knowing you’re forcing yourself open for him, knowing how much you’re drunk off it. He just can’t help himself to wait. 

Air is knocked from your lungs when Ghostface decides he’s, again, not a patient man. He fucks the last few inches into you and hard, pushing you to your limits and filling you to the brim. 

Your head is thrown back as you scream in shock, never having been fucked by someone who feels so good. You sob as your walls flutter around him, attempting to accommodate the size in such a short amount of time.

“Yes! Jesus Christ- Fuck!” You moan out, to which Ghostface chuckles lowly. 

“Take me so well,” he’s trying to breathe through being squeezed so tightly by your walls, even he finds it difficult. “Such a pretty girl, just needs to be fucked to keep her- shit - her goddamn mouth shut.” The man growls behind the mask and starts to fuck you at an earth-shattering pace. 

You cry out in shock, gripping Ghostface at his biceps and whimpering at how strong he is. He pulls himself nearly all the way out of you before he flushes his hips right back to you, slapping your ass cheeks with his clothed thighs. That’s when he really begins to rail you. 

You see stars, still adjusting to his size, your slick pooling around him with excitement. You hazily smile, fucked dumb by a stranger, filled to the brim as you stare at the ceiling. Your visions jumps up and down as Ghostface pounds you senselessly. The bedframe rattles and the legs skirt against the hardwood floors. 

Impatient whines from you fill the room as he pulls himself from your pussy, moaning out for him needily. He manhandles you, grabbing your hips forcefully and flipping you over onto your stomach. 

“Ass up, let’s go.” He commands. 

You were still in a funk, head wiped empty of any palpable information. You whimpered as you tried to move but at the pace of a snail. 

His impatient hands grip you tightly at your hips, forcing a broken yelp from your throat as he pulls you up to bend over, shoving your face into the mattress and angling your ass up for him to use. 

“Yes, please use me,” you whimper desperately, reaching your hands back and parting your ass cheeks for him. “Finish inside me, use me as your cum dumpster.” Where was this language coming from?! This wasn’t you, you didn’t sound or look like you. He was turning you into someone new, someone satisfied by his anonymity. You’d never know who was fucking you senseless, and it might drive you mad until you find out, if you ever will, that is. 

Your thoughts are squashed from your mind as a harsh slap followed by a greedy grip is splayed across your ass. A yelp is pulled from your throat, instincts telling you to flinch away and protect yourself. 

“Ah-ah,” the man teases, his angry fingers creating bruises on your hips as he pulls you back to the edge of the bed to be his little sex servant. “Good girls take what they are given, so take it,” Ghostface says as he smacks your other cheek, reddening them both, jiggling the flesh much to his appeal. 

His large palms seared his prints into your ass, gripping your ass and pulling you to his cock. He lines himself up, and you take him again. 

You don’t understand unless it’s happening to you, how it feels like you’re floating in space, fucked numb but also feeling like you’re on pins and needles. It’s indescribable to enjoy being fucked by a stranger, but it’s happening, and it’s happening to you. 

He penetrates you, parting your walls, making himself a home inside you. You squeeze around him, and he moans. It satisfies you so intensely.   

“Beg for me,” he mutters through the mask, grunting with each thrust. He must be close.

“P-Please, keep fucking me so good, please Mr. Ghostface-”

“No!” He strikes your pretty ass again, hard, and your warm flesh singes with heat. You whimper, imagining how red, angry, and large his handprint looks stamped on your ass. 

“Want you to beg... for your life.” His voice had turned as cold as stone, ridged with a sadist tone that left goosebumps bubbling on the surface of your skin. A scared feeling sunk into the pit of your stomach. You swallowed a lump down your throat and shyly peeked around your shoulder to take him in. 

“P-Please… I want to live,” you whimper, your hands fisting the sheets as Ghostface slowly picks back up the paces of his thrusts. He’s turned on by this. 

“Oh my- please, I know you d-don’t know me, but I’m good, l-look how good I’m being for you,” you begin to cry as he fucks you harder, your ass clapping aggressively against his thighs and the grip he has on your hips intensifies. 

He loves fucking you until you cry. Such a sadist. 

Ghostface gives a few last gut-twisting thrusts, and his tip kisses your cervix repeatedly. He’s so large you can feel him in your tummy. His hand reaches around your hip, and the other stays gripping your ass while he spanks your clit lightly with his fingers. 

“Fuck!” You cry out, beginning to throw your ass back into him, creating your own unique rhythm together. You’re so sensitive, and you’re coming before you can even fully register it. 

“Mr. Ghostface, please,” you whimper. “I-I’m coming so fu-ucking hard,” you mewl for him, your thighs twitching along with your walls that squeeze around him, begging to milk him for his seed. 

Ghostface’s thick and angry cock twitches inside of you, desperate to fill your needy hole with his sperm. He grunts and pants into the mask, filling his own body with a heat that makes him sweat. He pounds himself into you until you’re flattened against the mattress, begging for release, begging to live. 

There’s something about your obedience that he gives into, his cock twitching deep inside the warm comfort of your walls and between your beautiful ass cheeks. He pulls out and pants, handling his cock as he paints your ass white. 

The warm droplets of come make you twitch, but it’s so hot to be painted white by the man who praised you and degraded you all night long. 

You’re a heap of nothing strewn about the mattress. You can’t seem to calm your shaky breath. You lay there limp, unable to move, unable to think. All you can think about is the man behind the mask and how irate and perverted he is. And how much you fell into his trap. 

Shame twisted your guts enough, forcing you to get up and turn around and face your stalker. But when you turned back, he was gone. How long were you not paying attention? 

You quickly retrieved your robe, forcing yourself to walk despite your legs feeling like liquid gelatin. Checking room to room, you survey your boyfriend's home and are left empty-handed. It’s like he was never here. 

From the top of the stairs, you hear the door open and close.

“Honey?” Your heart sinks, hearing your boyfriend kick off his shoes on the mat. 

Rushing down the stairs, you collapse into his arms and cry out of guilt. You tell him everything. Everything besides the show in front of the windows and getting fucked by Ghostface in his own bed. There’s more to leave out than to leave in, but the short story is that you were taunted over the phone by a masked man, scared to death, and begged for your life. 

His first reaction was to call the police, and despite how much you hesitated, you let him. Two nice offers responded to the call. They sat you two down separately and asked you what had happened. You were wrapped in a blanket and your robe, shaking in disappointment. 

It was scary, lying to the cops, withholding all of the truth. Making sure not to overshare any details. You also didn’t want to give away that you liked it. To the bone, you liked it. 

You were hunted like prey tonight, used, fucked hard until you couldn’t breathe. Left in the dark, feeling a little crazy if it even happened in the first place. But you could feel him still inside of you, stretched and still leaking between your thighs. You tugged your robe tighter, smiling weakly at the officer as he closed his notebook. 

“We’ll figure out what we can ma’am. For now, keep everything locked up. I wouldn’t leave the house alone.” You wipe away the mucky mascara on your cheeks and sigh, nodding as you walk with the officer to the door. 

His badge read J. Miller. He was older, stippled with grey hair within his dark curly locks. He had an aquiline nose and plumish-rose lips. His broad chest strikes something somewhat familiar to you. He glances behind you at the officer who is still asking your boyfriend a few questions. 

Officer Miller sighed, looking over the door frame curiously. 

“Said you locked the doors?”

You hesitate but nod compliantly. 

His pointer finger shapes over the lock, then the entry metal hinge. “No forced entry.” He notes, looking at you curiously. 

You evade his eye contact and conceal yourself tighter in your blanket and robe. “I.. I don’t know how he got in.” Your eyes find the floor, planting themselves there as you stare at Officer Miller’s familiar black police boots. 

He hums curiously, looking over you slowly. 

“You’re tellin’ me everythin’ that happen to you tonight?” 

Your doe eyes go wide, your head snapping up to Officer Miller’s. “I-I promise, please, Officer Miller-” 

He holds up a hand to cut you off, and you weakly stand there with your lips parted. Then he starts to nod and slowly smile. “That’s a good girl.” 

It strikes you like a bolt of lightning, fear and curiosity consume you. You hear footsteps behind you, the other officer, and your boyfriend, who collects his arm around your shoulders. 

Officer Miller watches you with a glint of intrigue but nothing more. His eyes shift to your boyfriend’s arm protectively wrapped around you. It makes him twitch up a stomach-twisting smile before he turns to his fellow officer. 

“Got everything you need?” Officer Miller asks, tucking his thumbs into the front of his belt while he observes the other officer’s notepad. The officer nods and places his small notebook and pen in his breast pocket. 

“Got everything we need. You two stay safe.” 

The other officer ducks out first and nods curtly, Officer J. Miller stands there a moment longer. 

“Happy Halloween.” He said with a sickening smile. “Be sure to lock the door behind me.” 

You gulp as you look over Officer Miller meekly before he disappears outside and into the night. Where he belonged.   

---

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[futureplayboibunnie]

i rewatched the godfather and listened to the entirety of honeymoon by lana del rey so here’s another mafia Miguel O’Hara drabble

-

Objectively, there were so many things wrong in the lifestyle that was gifted to you, but you didn’t feel any kind of way about it. You weren’t the type to fill the silence with empty words.

In this line of business, talking could get you killed.

Your husband wasn’t a good man and he often treated you well. He was the most powerful out of all the 5 families that ruled the underworld and he so happened to have a liking to you. You did love him once, that space where your love for him filled is now blank, a white space etched with a question mark. You didn’t know how to feel about all of it since you were his best kept secret, his secret weapon.

He used you to gain intel on his enemies, being a woman was one thing but being as cunning as you was another. You’d go undercover for him, he’d create an alias, a new passport, a new birth cerificate, a new drivers liscense. Your husband was nothing but thorough. And he needed to be thorough when the O’Hara brothers showed up out of nowhere.

The O'Hara brothers were very successful hitmen, but their business ventures were quiet, they moved in brooding silence in an effort to not draw public attention. Gabriel was more about the tech and was often out of town. Miguel, on the other hand, was dark, moody, he was the brawn, the muscle, the one that had to make all the hard choices all his life.

He couldn’t make heads or tales of who they were and how they so quickly got accepted into all of this and how the 5 families didn’t notice them on their radar. You had never seen your husband this anxious when it came to them, so he needed you to scope.

You were his crown jewel, he knew you could handle yourself. So he created a new alias: you were his new suit tailor. It was supposed to be a two month operation but Miguel took longer than expected to try and get close to you. Probably because you forgot to take off your wedding ring and now you had to make that part of your story. A stupid mistake on your half and now you’re reaping the consequences.

But here you were now.

Waiting for him at dinner at the most regal restraunt you have ever been in, you felt a little intimidated that there were a few security gaurds looming over you slightly as you sat and waited. Jesus, they cleared the whole floor out just for the two of you.

This is the type of intel your husband wanted. Intimate.

-

Miguel saw you through the window before he walked in, there you were sitting so prettily, waiting for him. Pretty silk dress, showing off your legs with those heels that he was surprised you could even walk in.

You were married. He noticed the massive rock on your finger while you pressed down on the lapels of his suit when you first started

Miguel knew you were married and it took a lot of time to prented he cared about it, but he didn’t. Not one bit. He always wanted what he couldn’t have.

He watched as your eyes shot up to see his figure walking towards you, a twinge of nervousness struck at your chest and your fingers started twitching as you felt his gaze simmer into yours. He was wearing the all black suit you made him last week. The sight made your legs buckle but you immediately dismissed the action.

“Salir.” (Leave) Miguel waved his hand and dismissed the guards so that you could both be alone together, the thing he’s wanted to do since he first saw you but you were so…unreadable. So polite and nonchalant, it was galling.

He waited long enough for you, now he wanted to see what your mind held.

“I apologize for being late. Business as usual.” He said coolly as he pulled out his chair to sit down.

Oh? Business?

“Such as? Nothing too serious I hope.” Your replied simply, expertly not giving away that you were digging.

Miguel contemplated your purpose, you were sat there so graceful and poised, so…fucking polite. He almost hated it. “An arms deal, a few of my guns went missing.” He stated huskily, trying to get past this conversation.

You let out an appreciative hum, letting a beat of silence cover you as you retained that knowledge “My husband doesn’t like me playing with guns, we argue about it.” You find yourself explaining your real life issues before your brain could even check it. “I told him men have endless distractions…while we ladies only have shopping and tailoring.” You chuckly dryly, giving him a shy crooked half smile, playing into whatever role of femininity you needed: this time, traditionalist. You wanted to roll your eyes back into your skull. “At least it keeps me at home.”

Miguel couldn’t help but squint his eyes and keep himself locked on you. He thought you were so sweet…and definitely unhappy at home with your husband. He sat quietly for a moment, the tension already laying thick into the atmosphere.

“I hope I didn’t interrupt anything when I called today.”

“Oh…my husband’s away on a trip. So his friends came over to keep me company. More like keep an eye on me. Your call was the perfect excuse to leave.” You say whistfully, not giving too much away.

Fuck, that was just your knack. You never gave anything away, you were so….puzzling. Miguel traced his fingers over his lips as his stared at you.

Hm.

“Is that right?” He muttered but it definitely wasn’t a question.

“Mhm. It’s a beautiful night tonight, I didn’t want to be surrounded by men who don’t care but a glass of wine would be nice right about now.”

-

You and Miguel ate and talked into the night, the soft piano playing in the background only added to the tension Miguel could barely touch his food, all he could do was stare at you across the candlelit table, urging you, contemplating you. He hadn’t wanted a woman in so long, it was like you were placed in front of him by God himself.

You sipped at your wine as a slightly concerned and defeat look spread across your face. You told him that your husband is a broker with a fraying temper and you were surprised he believed you.

“He asked me about kids. A daughter. He’d always wanted a daughter.” Although you were playing into your character, you couldn’t stop yourself from telling him the issues that were plaguing you in your real life. You disguised it well but it just fell so naturally.

Miguel frowned when he heard the mention of children.

“And?” He tilted his head urging you to continue as he took a sip of his whiskey.

“Well,” You sighed. “With all due respect, she’d be his daughter. And that affords her a certain amount of protection I don’t enjoy.” You pursed your lips as the words strained heavily, seriousness etching at your features. “He’d never hurt a hair on her head. I can’t say the same thing for myself. I won’t leave her alone in the world with him.”

Now this really was getting intimate.

Miguel felt a surge of protectiveness wash over him, he really didn’t like the way you were describing the way he acts and talks to you. He would beat him bloody for the way he treats you. He shook the thought out of his head, he needed to get a grip.

“In my work, moral codes rarely exist but I have one. I don’t hurt women or children, they are absolutely off limits and my men know this and it’s one or the only rules I expect to be firmly stood by.” He said calmly, trying to calm his temper at what you just told him.

Now this is intel. The mental list was getting bigger and bigger.

You smiled shyly as you placed your elbows on the table, looking as whistful as ever. “I sometimes think I’d rather do things on my own. The things I like don’t interest him.” You hated the fact you were telling the truth.

Miguel watched you, his eyes scorching and heated yet cold and steely. A paradox of a man as he listened intently, his ears pricked up.

“What do you like?” His voice was as rich as blue velvet.

Your eyes shot up and blinked for a moment, stilling as you finally registered the words, Miguel felt you swallow thickly. “I like the movies.” You gave him a crooked smile. “He doesn’t go with me so I go by myself. He and his friends only talk business.” You chuckled lightly.

“I don’t like movies either.” Miguel replied gruffly as he downed the rest of his drink. The look on your face spread into contempt, he caught a glimpse of you under all that politeness. And then you snapped it back on like second instinct as you smiled.

“Mr O’Hara you’re too busy to go to the movies. Even this dinner took you about 3 months to schedule. Movies are for people who have far too much time on their hands.” You teased.

Damn.

Miguel just kept staring.

“No its not that….It’s too dark. I’m not a fan of too much darkness.”

Oh?

He doesn’t like the dark?

Your lips parted as a palpable silence settled between you, Miguel was eager to dismiss the situation.

“Would you like another drink?” He grabbed the wine bottle to top you up.

“To keep you company. Alcohol…” You tisked. “Such trivial things…” You muttered quitely.

“If you play close attention to it enough, nothing is too trivial.” Miguel was laser focused on you and all you could do was give him a blank and slightly rattled look.

It was making you feel….things. You can’t feel it, you’re not allowed to feel it.

Miguel watched you as you raised the glass to your lips and took a sip, his eyes travlled to the lipstick stain on the rim as you set it down.

Fuck. Blushed red, a little glossy.

You rotated your head around to still be surprised that no one was actually here.

“Cleared out huh?” You questioned knowingly.

“I value my privacy. And it’s a nice place to talk so no one disturbs us.” He replied back as sauve as ever and you hated the feeling swinging in your chest as they fell from his lips.

The gaze you shared felt like it could last a lifetime, you were both practically eyefucking each other, neither of you blinked until he spoke.

“Your husband works a great deal, eh?” Now he was the one that was prying.

“At what I have no idea. He won’t tell me. I’ve always said that having a man is fine as long as he’s far away from home, right?” You raised an eyebrow, a cunning look filled with hubris and quiet flirtation.

It was like you weren’t even trying to be this sensual.

Miguel’s lips parted as his mouth tugged upwards a little. “Your husband is a broker, yeah?” He wanted to know more about you, about your life.

“If you wanted to know more about him, I’ll bring him along next time. You men always have something to say to each other.”

Miguel hated the idea. Absolutely not. He stayed quiet

“But with women you just make small talk.” You breathed and it halted him in his tracks, the small smirk, the look in your eyes- he wanted what he couldn’t have.

The silences that surrounded you was beating with tension that you thought you once forgot.

You swallowed.

“Small talk like this to me….is a rare treat.”

-

The night went on. Talking. Slight flirting. An ache started to form between your legs and your cunning was also turning into a mix of that and attraction. Your fingers grazed your arm slowly, your lips were getting wettet and your eyelashes seemed to flutter as you watched Miguel talk.

“The men I work with are high ranking officials and lowlives. But they all have the same look in their eyes.”

Yes. This is exactly what you needed to hear.

“And what is that?” You reply simply.

“Fear.”

“Of course.”

“But you’re different, aren’t you? You’re not afraid.” Miguel couldn’t help but comment on you, in this business a woman as polite as you should be on the chopping block but no, there was something about you.

“How about you?” You shot back and as always you disarmed him immediately but he didn’t like to give anyone that sort of power.

No one can catch him off guard.

“You’re smart but not smart enough to know how to catch me out.” Miguel smiled wickedly as he reached for his pack of smokes and pulled out a tab.

Your lips parted as you scanned his face up and down as he put it inbetween his lips. He noticed your mindless yet intent gawk and raised his eyebrows, he took another one out and extended his arm out as his fingers brushed your skin. You stilled and blinked up at him dumbly as his thumb brushed your lips and opened your mouth wider for him to put the cigarette.

His touch was like liquid fire.

You finally caught it and then he took his lighter and lit his and yours up, watching the way your lipstick stained the butt. When you fingers held it, he caught a full view of your wedding ring, it was massive diamond rock held together by golden pearls. His face grew embittered by the sight, his frustration fanned into anger and now his sentiments remained the same.

He always wanted what he couldn’t have.

[loverhymeswith]

Let's Be Alone Together || Part One

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x F!Reader

Summary: Ever since Tommy swore an oath to your dying husband, you've been a part of the Shelby family. Two years have passed and the two of you are still weighed down by grief but perhaps you can find solace in one another's company.

Word Count: 1.2K

Warnings: ptsd, mention of death, implied drug use, language, not beta-read

A/N: My first Tommy fic after embarking on a rewatch of Peaky Blinders. If there's interest in this, I have more chapters in mind!

Part Two

“Where the fuck is Tommy?”

Arthur Shelby’s commanding voice cuts through the buzz of chatter. Gradually, the small crowd gathered in The Garrison’s snug falls silent. Not as quickly as they would have done for Arthur’s younger brother, but he has their attention at least.

Glaring at the occupants of the private side room, the eldest Shelby brother takes another breath. “I said, where the fuck is-”

“We heard you the first time, Arthur,” Pol pauses her chain-smoking to interject. Even with the cigarette now resting between her painted fingers, her burgundy lips are pursed, displeasure evident in the fine lines of her face. “Shouting louder isn’t going to make him magically appear. Let’s just get on with it.”

Sitting quietly in the background - quite literally, you are tucked away in the corner of the room - it strikes you that they should have noticed earlier. The presence - or lack thereof - of the head of the Shelby family rarely goes unobserved. After all, Tommy is usually the one to call for council. For him to be missing, something must be wrong.

All eyes are fixed on the centre of the room as a discussion breaks out between Arthur and John on the merits of waiting for Tommy, so it’s easy for you to slip away. You’ve often wondered why you’re invited to these family meetings in the first place. A sense of duty to your late husband, perhaps? Ensuring you don’t feel left out? Or maybe it’s just their way of keeping an eye on you. 

Two years have passed since Tommy swore an oath to your dying husband as they fought side by side in the Somme, and still the Shelbys treat you as one of their own. Pol, the family’s matriarch with a temper to match the size of her heart; sweet Ada who treats you like the older sister she never had; Arthur and John - a pair of brothers watching out for you as you navigate your way through widowhood. 

And then there’s Tommy. 

Tommy, who delivered the news of your husband’s death in person and held you while you broke down. Tommy, who put a roof over your head and food on your table when you could no longer afford the cost of rent. Tommy, who gave you a job and a purpose and a family.

You owe a lot to the Shelbys, but none more so than Tommy.

It’s likely your imagination, but sometimes it feels as if he acts differently around you. Like he’s more open with you than he is with the others. Maybe it’s the loss the two of you share. The grief that, given half a chance, might have swallowed you whole had Tommy not saved you. 

But who is there to save him?

The streets are quiet at such a late hour, the rain having long since driven everyone inside so there’s no one around to witness your hurried approach to Tommy’s front door. You rap firmly, but you’re not surprised by the lack of response. Instead, you slip the spare key from your coat pocket. The one given to you for emergencies. The door opens with a soft creak.

Climbing the stairs, your heart races. The sweet scent of smoke fills your lungs and you hesitate at the bedroom door, suddenly fearful of what you might find on the other side. Tommy's habit isn’t quite the secret he’d like to think it is, but he’s usually so careful not to let it affect his business.

Upon entering the room, your eyes immediately fall to the bed. Tommy is stretched out across the mattress, but this is no peaceful slumber. Impossibly long, dark lashes kiss his pale skin as sweat beads across his creased brow. The muscle in his jaw works as his scarred fingers clutch at the rumpled white sheets. 

“Tommy,” you murmur softly, once, twice, three times until his eyelids twitch.

A familiar yet unnerving pair of bright blue eyes fly open and his hard gaze instantly meets your own, his chapped lips parting as he rasps your name. “What are you doing here?” 

Fighting off the instinct that makes you want to reach for him, you hold your position a few steps away. “You’re late for Arthur’s family meeting. They’re all waiting for you.”

In a flash, he’s sitting up, curses roughly spilling from his mouth. The movement startles you, not least because he’s dressed in only his undershirt and slacks, the sweat-dampened fabric clinging to his skin. He seems vulnerable like this - without the armour of his sharp suits, so perfectly tailored to the hard lines of his body. 

Of course, you’ve noticed him. Despite your history, you’re far from immune to his striking appearance. Thomas Shelby has both the look and will of a Greek God. Beautiful and damned.

When Tommy’s attention lands on the pipe discarded on the bedside table, the briefest flicker of shame mars his fine features but it’s gone just as quickly. With a soft groan he begins to straighten himself.

“Do you need anything?” You ask, averting your gaze. Without waiting for an answer, you add, “I won’t tell anyone.”

You raise your head in time to see his lips twitch but there’s no smile for you. Not today. “What would I do without you?”

Your cheeks grow warm and you turn away to fetch a damp washcloth from the adjoining bathroom. The weight of Tommy’s gaze follows you across the room. “I should be the one thanking you,” you call over the sound of the running water.

Tommy waits until you’re by his side again before replying. “I promised him I would take care of you, didn’t I?”

“I think you’ve already gone above and beyond.”

A beat of silence passes between you, not awkward but not quite comfortable either. The scent of the smoke is slowly dispersing but a heaviness lingers in the air. Searching for something to say to offset the tension growing in your chest, you perch on the edge of the bed and angle your body towards him. 

“They haunt me, too,” you murmur, offering him the washcloth. “The nightmares.” You might not have witnessed it first hand like Tommy, but at your steadfast request he had painted an unflinching picture of your husband’s final moments. Enough to ensure you plenty of sleepless nights.

Tommy’s piercing eyes search your face and you’d kill for an insight into what he’s thinking. To know what’s going on behind that unwavering stare. Despite your outstretched hand, he’s making no move to take the cloth from your hands. 

Tentatively inching closer, you reach out and press the cloth to Tommy’s brow. His eyes shutter, feather-like lashes brushing his delicate cheekbones. Only when you’re certain he’s not going to push you away do you continue, smoothing the cloth along his temple and down to his jaw, carefully erasing the evidence of his troubles.

When his skin is clean you move to pull away, but Tommy places his warm hand over yours, keeping your hand and the cloth pressed against his skin. 

“Does it help?” you wonder, almost breathlessly as you nod to the discarded pipe. Time might be ticking as the family waits but you find yourself in no hurry to return to The Garrison. 

“I used to think so,” he tells you, firmly holding your gaze. “But now, I’m not so sure. Now…” He trails off. Turning his head ever so slightly, Tommy tilts his jaw until his lips brush against the tips of your fingers.

“And now?” you prompt hoarsely, as his warm breath fans your skin.

“Now, I think it might be better to feel something rather than nothing at all.”

Taglist: @a-reader-and-a-writer @crysxtal

[towriteloveontheirarms]

Peakaboo! I see you... (modern!Stalker!Aegon II Targaryen x reader)

synopsis: You have always felt safe in your own home, shutting out the scary, real world. Unknowing, that someone stared at you through the large windows almost every day and night. But a window is just glass, and glass… oh it breaks so, so easily…

warnings: Dark fic, non-con, slight somnophilia, stalking, obsession, mentions of alcohol and drinking, afab reader, angst, fluff, smut, oral sex (f receiving), p in v sex

word count: 8k

taglist: @urmomsgirlfriend1, @agqrtz

(If you want to be tagged in the `kissing booth AU´, for a specific character/fandom or in general let me know in my asks, comments or DMs)

a/n: So, in honor of spooky season I started rewatching `You´ and this is what happened. Let me know if I missed any tw´s or anything. I hope y´all enjoy!! <3

When you had moved to King´s landing you found yourself alone and truly scared for the first time in your life. Fleabottom wasn´t the safest place to begin with, but it was the only thing you could afford while attending Uni, leaving you very little safe spaces. One of them being your friend Sarah Snow´s place and the other, your own apartment. Where you could shut out the scary real world with the turn of a key and multiple locks. Cuddling into your bed with your phone, the tv providing the only source of light in the apartment. It´s still early in the evening, but you had always valued a quiet night in over going out to some shitty bar or club or party, like your friends did. You silently shake your head at the thought of Sarah, Aly and Cassandra getting hammered at some party right now. And as if they heard your thoughts your phone starts to ring with an incoming videocall.

“Hey girl!” Aly exclaimed the second you accept the call. Making you hold the phone a little further away at the sheer volume of her voice. You can see your other two friends in the background, getting ready for going out.

“Hey, Aly. What are you up to?” You ask in a much quieter tone.

“We´re going out tonight.” By the way her words slur ever so slightly it is clear that the three of them had been pregaming.

��Okay, but… Why are you calling me? You know I am not in on the whole party thing.” A feeling in your gut told you, that a plan was afoot. A plan you wouldn´t like as much as sitting at home and watching movies.

“You´re coming with us. That´s why.” Cassandra´s voice sounds from the background.

“Oh no. No. No. No.” You insist.

“No, no talking back this time. Your gonna like it. I promise. There is this really niche bar, that has an open mic thing tonight for anyone that wants to share their work. It will be great.” Cassandra tries to convince you in a sweet voice.

“Ugh. Cas, Aly…”

“Come on. You always whine about being insecure about your writing. This could be great for you.” Sometimes you really hated your friends persistence. Especially when her points weren´t even half bad.

“Alright, fine. Send me the address and give me an hour to get ready.” You hear them cheering as you rub your eyes with the hand that isn´t holding up the phone. “But I won´t get behind that microphone. No matter what you say.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just get yourself presentable and come down. We´ll meet you there.” Just as suddenly as they had called you, they hang up again.

You throw your phone to the side and sigh deeply. Running your hands over your face, followed by bringing them down onto your upper thighs in an attempt to motivate yourself. Of course it doesn´t work and so, with another sigh you turn the tv off and hop into the shower. The warm water feels nice on your skin and when the time to step out, the typical feeling of not wanting to leave overcomes you. But you have to get ready if you don’t want to get shit from Sarah or Cas, so you force yourself to put on some light makeup and grab the next best clothes from your closet, that make you look presentable. Looking at the location of the bar you realize that it is only a few subway stops from your place and so you grab your phone, keys and wallet and head out to the station closest to your place. Checking twice if the pepper spray is still in your purse.

You walk down the stairs just in time for the subway to arrive.

When you arrive at the bar Sarah, Cassandra and Aly are already waiting outside. Greeting you with a mutually hollered “Babes!!”

“Heyyy!” You mirror their tone. Putting on a wide smile to not let them see how tired you really were.

Together the four of you enter the bar and the first thing you notice over the low chatter is how stuffed it is already. You barely find a table that fits all of you and immediately order a round of shots. A good choice as it turns out, because you barely have time to put down your coat, when you hear your name announced over the mic. A frown flits over your face, but you don´t have the heart or maybe the energy for a discussion now, so you pound back another shot and get up on the small makeshift stage. You sit down on the uncomfortable bar stool and introduce yourself. Beginning to read the latest excerpt from the book you were writing that you still have on your phone. The audience honestly doesn´t give much of a reaction, aside from your friend´s aggressive cheers. And the spotlight blinds you a bit, letting your anxiety practically spike. You can hear your voice shake as you read. Your hands and legs still tremble when you finally get back to the table.

“Y´all are such assholes. I told you I didn´t wanna read…” You protested as you take a drink from them.

“Aw, you were great either way, babes. Now come on. Let´s enjoy the evening.” Sarah tries to keep peace, laying a soothing hand on your arm. You know she means well. All of them do, but you still feel kind of hurt, that they had gone behind your back like that.

Over all the commotion and the people that read after you, you completely ignore the blonde stranger who, ever since you had entered the bar, couldn´t seem to turn his eyes away from you. Blissfully unaware of the dark thoughts behind them. And it stays that way until you leave. Tipsy, staggering up to the uber under his hidden watchful eyes. You close the door behind you and push the feeling of being watched aside as a side effect of being a woman alone in the outside world. He follows you in his own car. Thoughts of needing to have you and being the one for you swirling in his mind and possessing his every thought. Your mind however is occupied with the need for sleep and so he goes easily unnoticed. Looking through the widow of your ground level apartment as you undress and go to bed in only your underwear. He can even count himself lucky enough to go unnoticed by you over the next few days as you follow your usual routine. Going to the gym, the library, lessons, grocery shopping. Whatever you do, his eyes are on you. Until he is sure he knows your schedule by heart. Moving him along to step two of his plan.

You meet up with your friends at a bar again. A different one this time and on your own accord. It was the last day before spring break and them all leaving to visit home. All of them except for you. You don´t mind not going home so much as being alone for a whole week. So, you make sure to enjoy the evening with them and once again ignore the feeling of being watched that had sat in the back of your brain for the past week or so. And when you go to get another round of drinks, that´s when he strikes.

You make your way over to the bar. Not really looking where you are going, when you run into someone. Their drink spilling all over the front of your shirt. You jump back as the wet fabric clings to your skin.

“Woah, I´m so sorry. Are you okay?” The stranger gives you a bright smile, flashing his perfect teeth. A smile that reaches his lilac eyes. Making them sparkle and crinkling their corners. He holds out some napkins for the stain that steadily grows more uncomfortable.

“Thank you. Yes, no. Yeah, I´m alright. Uh, I´m sorry too. I totally didn´t watch where I was going.” You tap at the stain in order to hopefully take some of it off. Smiling back at him. You can´t help but to. “Let me buy you a new drink. To make up for all of that.”

“No, no. I should buy you one. I totally ruined your shirt. I insist.” He is so effortlessly sympathetic that you couldn´t even protest against his words if you wanted to.

“Okay.” Youn nod and follow him to the bar, where you sit down together.

“I´m Aegon, by the way.” He extends his hand for you to shake, which you do while offering up your name.

“It´s nice to meet you, Aegon.” The two of you order drinks and fall into conversation easily. Talking about anything and everything until you feel your phone vibrate inside of your pocket. Pulling it out you see Cassandra´s name on the screen. Reminding you of who you actually came here with and why.

Another glance at the clock tells you, that it is well past midnight.

“Shit, I didn´t realize it was that late already.” You turn to him to say goodbye. Ready to never see this handsome not so strange stranger ever again, when he makes you another offer.

“Want me to drive you home? It´s probably not safe out there at this time of night.”

“That would actually be so great, but I´d hate to inconvenience you. I probably live in the whole other direction from where you need to go.” You rub your neck. Taking a step back, ready to leave to say goodbye to your friends.

“Come on, it would be my pleasure to do that for you. I would hate for something to happen to you on your way home. Just say yes.” Aegon´s gaze is so intense and there is only one thought behind them, that the alcohol has made you ignorant of to his luck. If you leave alone now, he wasted his chance.

You sigh. “Okay, alright. Thank you so much. I just need to say bye to my friends and then we can go.”

He offers you his jacket to hide the stained shirt and then follows your lead back to the table.

“Hey, girls. I´m super sorry I just dipped, but I met Aegon and he´s gonna drive me home now. I´ll explain tomorrow. Okay?”

“Yeah, alright. Just be safe and don´t do anything we wouldn´t do.” They wink at you and turn back to their conversation as you and Aegon make your way outside to his car.

Ever so gentlemanly he opens the door to the passenger side of the golden Mercedes s-class for you, making you curtsy jokingly and giggle, then walks around to the driver side, to get in himself.

The two of you find your way back into the conversation and so you don´t even realize that you never actually told him were you lived. Nevertheless he pulls up in front of your apartment complex in no time.

“I had a really nice evening with you tonight.” He says with another wide grin and soft chuckle.

“Me too. And I´m sorry again for that drink. One would think that at my age I would´ve learned how to watch where I´m going.” You run a hand through your hair. Still slightly embarrassed about your carelessness.

“No, again, it is fine. I should have watched my steps as well, but if you really want to apologize you could give me your number? And we could meet up again some time. I´m guessing you´re on spring break too now.” It´s almost frustrating how good he looks with his head tilted and those beautiful lilac puppy dog eyes. If there was any doubt about wanting to see him again, they are all gone now. You need to see him again. So, you pull out your phone and give him your number.

“Don´t let me wait too long before I hear from you.” You give him one last smile before exiting the car. He sits in the car until you close the building door behind you and then parks his car around the corner to go back and observe you for a bit longer without being overly obvious.

Through the large windows Aegon watches you like every night of the past week. Stepping out of your clothes, doing your nightly skincare routine, before slipping on the smallest pair of pajamas he had ever seen and slip underneath the covers to watch some more tv. Falling asleep in front of it. All with an almost dorky smile. He thinks you are the cutest thing he has ever seen. The way you are so excited about your little meeting is something he has never seen in his life and he is instantly hooked. Fantasies about you being all excited and running up to him when he enters the apartment after a long day out enter his mind. Thoughts about sharing the sweetest kisses. When he opens his eyes he sees something that isn´t as innocent as he first perceived you.

Your hands caress your breasts and wander bellow the blanket, your back arching as they enter your core.

Aegon lets out a breathless curse. His own hand wandering inside his pants to tug on his length. His thoughts turn instantly. From innocent kisses to you arching your back up until your breasts touch his chest. Writhing and squirming underneath him from the pleasure he is giving you. Your tight walls fluttering around his cock as you come from the circles his thumb rubs into your clit. He has to clamp his hand over his mouth so you don´t hear him moan outside of your window. Once he´s finished, he leaves. Not wanting to push his luck, but definitely looking forward to the next time he´d see you.

The next morning you text the girls group chat. Apologizing for your behavior the previous night, by telling them every detail about the conversation with Aegon. How nice he was to you and how you thought that maybe, after a couple more dates, you could say he is the one. And as if he smelled you were talking about him in that moment you get a message from Aegon. Asking you out for coffee. You try to hide the smile that forces its way onto your mouth by biting your lower lip, even though there is no one there to hide it from. You answer him quickly and this time take a little extra time getting ready. Facetiming Aly, who is the only one that isn´t on a plane yet, to consult her on what best to wear. Even if she teases you relentlessly about being so nervous about a simple coffee date.

The truth is you haven´t been out on an actual date in years. Not after your last boyfriend had broken up with you for reasons only known to that absolute piece of shit. You had wasted three years pf your life on him and he couldn´t even give you a reason as to why he didn´t want to be with you anymore all of a sudden.

You take a deep breath to calm your nerves and hopefully stop the bouncing on your leg. Entering the small café he had asked you out to where you find him already sat at a table. A half smirk spreads his face. And by the seven you have to calm yourself down not to do anything embarrassing as a result of the glee you feel upon seeing him.

“Hey, I didn´t make you wait too long did I?” You ask bashfully.

“No worries. I basically just sat down.” He assures you. Watching with careful eyes as you take of your coat to reveal the dress you had chosen with Aly´s help and are now second guessing if the choice hadn´t been a bit too revealing.

“Phew, I´m glad to hear that. I hate making people wait for me.” You wipe away an imaginary drop of sweat and chuckle.

“Nah, you´re good.” He goes to say something else, but in that moment a waitress interrupts him to take your order. Which of course Aegon makes a mental note of. Just like anything he had learned about you so far. The waitress, an older woman, seems to recognize the nature of your meeting and how nervous you are and gives you an encouraging smile. You smile back at her and make sure to remember to tip her later.

“Alright so, normally I´d ask how you have been, but since we last saw each other last night I guess did you come home well yesterday?” You quipped.

“Yeah, I did. How about you?” The two of you share a laugh. Without the alcohol in your system he seems even more effortlessly charming. Coffee gets followed by dinner, which he invites you to. Talking about family, life, dreams and aspirations. You tell him about your parents’ divorce, the relationship you have with all of them, how studying and writing is going. How your dream is to be published one day. You open up to him more than you ever have to anyone in that short amount of time and he listens. He listens so well. Telling you about his studies and his father’s company, that he will inherit one day, yet he never makes you feel small compared to him, like others would probably make you feel. It would be easy to, but he just doesn´t. And your feelings for him grow ever stronger. He even persists on paying for you. Saying that you could pay the next dinner, but the two of you are aware that you could never earn enough money to pay a meal this expensive.

At the end of the day he drops you off at home once more, but when you hug him goodbye whispering “Thank you so much. I had such a great time today.” Into his ear he goes in for a kiss.

It’s a possessive claiming of your mouth kind of kiss. All clashing teeth and heavy bursts of breath. Wandering hands, pulling on clothes in a needy attempt to get the close proximity you both want so deeply. He pulls the air from your lungs only to breath it back into them a second later. It´s hard to do, but in the end you manage to pull away.

“It´s late. We should continue this another time.” You whisper with your forehead resting against his shoulder. Everything inside of you screams to keep going, but your brain told you to take it slow. To savor it.

“Okay. I can´t wait.” He lays a peck on the shell of your ear. Letting you go reluctantly. “Text me when you get home.”

You chuckle and step out of the car. Pulling out your phone the second you close the door behind you to text him a quick `I´m home. Had such a great time with you. Can´t wait to do this again <3´.

He watches the glow of the screen vanish behind the large window. Replying with a `Same. Sweet dreams<3´, but this time he doesn´t stay around to watch you. Instead he goes home to sink into one of the dreams he had ever since he met you. One where he watches you sleep in the morning, the rising sun and the way you lay sprawled out beside him making you look like an utter goddess. And then you wake up to give him a smile that makes him feel like he has a heart attack. It feels so real that when he wakes up to another text from you, he has to pull himself together to not mess up his carefully hatched out plan. His train of thought gets interrupted by his phone ringing.

“Good morning…” Your raspy morning voice comes out of the speaker. You sound absolutely gorgeous to him. Making his eyes roll back into his head a little.

“Good morning, doll. What´s up?” The smirk on his face is audible in his voice.

“Nothing much. I just wanted to hear your voice.” You murmur, rubbing your eyes. “Oh gods, that sounded so cheesy. I´m sorry.”

“Hey, you´re good. I actually think that´s really cute.” He muses.

“Oh? Well, I guess I don´t have to feel like it is too soon when I tell you I had the weirdest dream tonight.” You chuckle and clear your throat from the sleepiness.

“Really? Do tell.”

“I don´t know. I can only remember that we were together, in my apartment and I guess you were watching me sleep and it felt so real… I probably sound so weird right now.” You scoff at yourself. Wondering why you even told him that.

He on the other hand chuckles at your confession. Cursing himself out in his mind, to will himself to stay strong.

“I had the same dream. I hope you don´t think I´m like a stalker or obsessed or something now.” His tone is lighthearted, but the gods now he needs you to stay unconscious of that side of him. No, he wasn´t any of those things. He was looking out for you. You meant a lot to him and that meant he wanted to protect you. “So, you know. You at least aren´t weirder than I am.”

Sadly you have a shit ton to study, before spring break ends and so you aren’t able to meet again in the coming days. Of course that doesn´t mean that he can´t see you though. The feeling of being watched follows you around like a burning shadow throughout that time. Yet you push it away. Telling yourself that it was probably just exam stress or social anxiety or something. Which Aegon, knowing you as well as he does, is grateful for. Usually he would hate to see you anxious or stressed, wanting to take all that burdens you off you, but when it came to him getting caught… Well, not that he was doing anything wrong, but experience has taught him, that people tended to see things differently from him.

So he stays hidden. Texting and calling you every day and watching you sink your fingers or a toy into your sweet cunt each night. Every time he is overcome by thoughts of how you would make so much sweeter sounds if it was his length that your walls where fluttering around as wave after wave of pleasure rolls over you. Each time he reminds himself anew that things are going steady with you and it would  only be a short while until those thoughts became a reality.

On one of those evenings you surprise him with another call. Curses fall from his lips under his breath as he scrambles around the corner, praying that you haven´t heard his phone.

“Hey…” He says after pressing the green button on the screen.

“Hey, is this a bad time? You sound kinda out of breath.” Your voice chirps on the line.

“No, you could never call at a bad time.” Except for now kinda. “What´s up? Didn´t you say you wanted to write all day?”

“Yeah, I did. When my friends come back tomorrow there will be little chance to do so uninterrupted, but um… I couldn´t focus. Like at all.” You murmur.

“Oh, can I do anything to help?” he purrs.

“You could get some Starbucks and come over?” You ask in the most tempting voice you could offer. Not that he needed much persuasion to tend to any of your wishes as soon as you asked.

“Sure. I´m on my way.”

“You´re the best. Thanks.” You chirp and then the only thing that can be heard on this side of the line is the tone of the disconnected call from the device in his hand. Sprinting to his car, he almost drops his keys in anticipation at the prospect of spending time with you. Basically racing to your favorite coffee shop to get coffee, and some pastries he knew would be more than happy about right now. He knew, knowing everything about you would come in handy one day.

At the same time you put your laptop to the side. Trying to find something to pass the time until he would arrive. Which was harder to do than you would have thought and so with nothing to do, you decide to put some effort in your little meeting. Sitting down in front of the small closet to look for a cute dress to put in. Getting ready just in time for a knock on the door.

“Come in, it´s open.” You yell as you go to sit back down on the couch.

“You know, you probably shouldn´t leave your door unlocked in this neighborhood. Whoa…” He stops in the doorway when he sees you.

“Wh-What?” You tilt your head and look at him with confusion in your wide eyes. You look so innocent right now.

“Do you always write like that?” Aegon puts down the snacks and vaguely motions to your outfit of choice. “Cause… If so, I want to always be around for it.”

You can´t hide the snorting laughter that forces it´s way out of your lungs. “That´s really sweet, but no. I usually don´t look like this at all when I write. In fact I usually look so much worse you would want to stay as far away from me as possible.”

“I seriously doubt I anything in this world could ever make me want to stay away from you.” Aegon lays his gentle hands on your shoulders and a feeling of warmth spreads in your guts.

You look up at him through your lashes and before you know it your eyes flutter close. Then, a moment later, your lips meet his in the most gentle kiss ever. And you don´t know when things escalate. If it is when your hands come up to cup his cheeks. If it is when you stand on your tip toes to make it easier to deepen the kiss ever so slightly or when his tongue presses against your lower lip to silently ask for entrance. The result is the same. The two of you forgot about why he came over in the first place and abandon everything to make yourselves more comfortable in the bedroom. Rolling around the mattress as you make out heavily. His hands are everywhere on your body at the same time, just as yours are on his. Each touch feels like the right thing to do. The only thing that feels even more right is the way he sinks himself into your tight, warm walls. Like he had wanted from the moment he first saw you.

He´s so careful not to hurt you and as you lay in his arms afterwards, cuddled close, his finger drawing small patterns on your shoulder, you can´t hold back the smile. This is the fastest you have ever gone this far with a person. Mostly out of fear, that they would only want to use you for it. Yet even after only one official date with him, you know there is no reason to be afraid. It´s almost funny how shortly you have known each other and yet you rely on him for everything. He knows you so well already, has an incredible gift of listening and observing, like no one else you had met before. Ever. Before you notice it, a giggle falls from your lips, just as he kisses your temple.

“What´s so funny, doll?” Fuck, even the nickname you usually hated sounded so good from his lips.

“Nothing, just… I just thought about how shortly we´ve known each other and yet we know so much about each other already. I never had that.” You say in an amused tone.

“I´m gonna go ahead and take that as a good thing.” He huffs a chuckle.

“Oh yes, definitely. I honestly love how open we can be with each other.” Oh if only you knew.

“Me too.” He mumbles into the crown of your head. Placing another peck there.

As it turns out it isn´t only the first time you sleep with him, but also the first time you spend the night together. Your activities had robbed all of your energy and with a little more quiet chatter, the two of you slide of into slumberland.

You are sad to watch him leave the next morning, but the alarm on your phone, that interrupts your romantic little breakfast that Aegon had cooked, painfully reminds you, that you promised to pick up Aly from the airport.

“I´ll call you later, okay?” You promise him as he steps out of your car.

“I can´t wait already.” He replies.

You make your way to meet your friend and of course he follows you once again. Extra careful that you don´t see his car. It wasn´t necessarily low-key after all. Things are easier once he follows you into a café that looks like no ordinary student could pay for the food there already, keeping a close eye on you as you and your friend order brunch, nothing unconventional from what you have told him about her and your other friends. He starts to toy with the idea of leaving to not get caught, when something Aly says makes his ears perk up.

“So, how is it going with your new favorite person?” Her tone is light and she wiggles her eyebrows at you.

“I already told you to stop calling him that.” You laugh at her antics. “And don´t even try calling him my boyfriend. We haven´t even been on two dates yet.”

“Yeah, alright. Not even on two dates, but he has also been inside of you and has spent the night at your place after getting you snacks simply because you asked him to…” she shoots you an unbelieving look. “Like seriously. And you haven´t even told me all the dirty little details yet. Bitch, you owe me. I thought we were friends.”

If his heart beat higher before, when the word boyfriend left your lips, it beats even higher now at the mention of your night together.

“There´s not much to tell.” You try to deflect.

Not much to tell? He asks himself. He thought he had done better than `not much to tell´.

“Oh hells no. You know I won´t let you off that easy.”  She persists.

“Alright. Okay. It was great. He was so sweet and made sure to make me come like two times before he thought about himself. You happy now?” You try to keep your voice down as much as possible so the people around you don´t hear. Which is only a half success as Aly´s squeal gets you some of the unwanted attention anyway.

“Was he big?” Her question earns a shocked expression and gasp from you. And a concealed giggle from Aegon.

“I mean I guess. You know I don´t have much to compare it to, but I´d say he was solid.” You shrug. “Now can we please change the topic? How was your time with the family.”

Aly starts on a rant about everything her family did and said and so Aegon decides to go before he truly overtaxes his luck.

As he walks by the window you are sitting close to, you think it is him, weighing the options of saying something or not, deciding against it. You were just imagining things, because Aly was talking without a single pause and you missed him. You sigh, trying to concentrate on whatever your friend was talking about.

When you finally get home it is late afternoon already and you are pretty tired, but you can´t pass up on the call you promised Aegon.

“Hello there.” He picks up.

“General Kenobi.” You answer in the fashion that the Star wars quote commands.

“How did it go with your friend?” He asks feigning genuine interest as if he hadn´t been there for the most interesting part.

“Yeah, it went well. I just got home, basically.” You sigh and rub your eyes, who were burning for some reason.

“Wow.” He huffs amusedly.

“You can say that loudly. I originally planned on asking you if you want to come over, but I totally forgot that I have an early class tomorrow that I need to prepare something for. This week is gonna kick my ass…”

“Ah, damn. So how about we meet up Friday evening? I could pick you up and we could check out this new bar that just opened.” He suggests. Knowing already what this meant for the coming days.

“That would be so cool.” A yawn interrupts what you were saying. “Gods I´m sorry I´m really tired. Would you be mad if we hang up now and I´ll text you again before class?”

“Not at all. You go ahead and do your thing. I´ll hear from you tomorrow.” He reassures you.

“Thank you. Good night, Aeg.” You chirp.

“You have a good night too and don´t overdo it with the studying.”

“I won´t, mom.” Your faux annoyed tone gets broken up by one last chuckle before the two of you hang up. You always laugh so much with him. More than with anyone else and at the same time your deep talks are on such a level you don´t know how to express it to your friends.

You have always felt safe in your own home, shutting out the scary, real world. Unknowing, that someone stared at you through the large windows almost every day and night. But a window is just glass, and glass… oh it breaks so, so easily…

Friday takes forever to roll around, but when it finally does, nothing can wipe the smile from your face. Your mood is basically indestructible. As is his. You sing and dance your way all through out getting ready and when Aegon rings the bell you open the door with a spring in your step.

“Someone´s in a good mood.” Aegon muses.

“Just happy about seeing you.” You admit. Hugging him and kissing his cheek as a greeting. “Lemme just grab my purse and then we can go.”

You lock the door behind you and together he drives you out to a place that can hardly be classified as a bar. Upon entering the place you feel massively underdressed, but he doesn´t seem to care. He is just happy to be there with you and you are happy to be there with him. He asks about your week and how your writing is going while you sip one drink after another until you feel a light buzz. The alcohol making your insides feel as warm as his presence and his hand on your thigh do. Over the duration of the evening you gradually move closer, but by the time he drops you off, he lets you go with just a quick peck to your lips.

“Thank you for the nice evening.” You rub your eyes. Wanting to say something, anything to stay close to him just a bit longer, but your tired and tipsy mind can´t come up with anything.

“With you it´s always a nice evening. Now go on. Get to bed before you fall asleep in the passenger seat.” He squeezes your thigh one last time before he lets you open the door to head inside.

As always he parks his car around the corner to watch you until you fall asleep, but somehow tonight something is different.

Aegon feels a strange sensation tugging at his heart. A longing. To have you right this second. He doesn´t know what comes over him, but without a second thought he takes one of the stones in front of your window and throws it at the glass. It was meant to tap the glass, at least that´s what he tells himself, but instead it breaks it.

Fuck, Aegon curses under his breath, praying to the seven or any other deity that is willing to hear him that you didn´t wake up from the commotion. When your apartment stays silent, he decides that it isn´t safe for you alone with the broken window situation. It takes a few tries, but in the end he manages to climb through it. Keen on not making to much noise while walking over the shards on the ground, he tiptoes over to your bed.

You lay with your back towards the free side and so it is easy for him to slide in under the covers as well. He presses his chest as close to your back as possible, his hand laying innocently but protectively over your waist.

Aegon kisses your temple and silently promises to not close an eye, to watch over you, all night.

But the night is long and having you so close to him, smelling your shampoo and feeling your hips rub against his every time you shift in your sleep, makes it hard to keep his hand there. It also made him hard. The next time you shift in your sleeping state, his hand wanders down to your thighs. Once more and it lands trapped between them. Gently caressing your slit through the thin material of your leggings.

You sigh and stir lightly at his touch, but don´t wake up. Instead you just press yourself closer to him in your unconscious state. The action prompts Aegon to bite his lip to stifle the moan that wants to break free from his lungs. He can´t give himself away like this. He would only scare you and that is the last thing he wants to do. You simply look so good, how could anyone help themselves. You can be lucky he is there to watch over you.

A quiet moan comes from you as he continues his ministrations. The touch barely light enough to tease, but that heavenly sound pushes him further.

His hand slips underneath the waistband, past your lace panties and finds your already wet heat.

“Fuck.” He whispers, pushing two of his thick fingers inside of your entrance. He wants to take things so much further, but if he wants you to stay asleep he has to be careful. He pumps the two digits in and out of you at a slow pace. Feeling you grow even wetter as you squirm, quiet moans the only tell for the pleasurable feeling you are experiencing. He speeds up the movement of his fingers slightly, until he can´t take the lewd noises coming from your core anymore. He just has to taste you or he was sure he would die right then and there.

He shifts his position on the mattress, turning you onto your back, pausing when you stir again, moving to lay between your legs. Your pants are discarded and carelessly thrown to the side, before he dives in for the first taste of your heavenly center. He regrets not taking the time to appreciate your body the way it deserves, but he needs you so much there is no time for that now. His tongue licks a stripe up the length of your cunt, moaning at the sweet taste. And when he hears your own quiet moan and sees how you bring your hips closer to his face he is unstoppable. His tongue delves into you, fucking you with it and recklessly. Reaping every single one of your little noises and movements. He is so far gone that he doesn´t even realize, that with every new stir you start to wake up a little more.

At first your mind is still foggy with sleep and the pleasurable feeling his lips and tongue bring you. Your hand instinctively treads itself into his hair. But when you fully come to You scramble backwards until your back hits the headboard. His mouth chasing after you before he realizes what has happened and looks up at you.

“Aegon?! What are you doing here?” You gasp.

“Shh, it´s okay. Just let me worship you in the way you deserve.” Aegon slides his hand up your calf in a feather light touch.

“How did you get in here?” You ask, becoming more panicked.

“The door. I told you, you need to be more careful. You are lucky I came here to protect you.” His voice is soothing and so deep. And so you relax a little, leaning back as he resumes his previous activities.

But somehow something just feels wrong. Like a feeling in your gut. This is so unlike anything he has shown you of himself. Thinking about it he hadn´t shown you all that much in the first place. And that feeling just won´t let itself be shaken off so you shove his head away once more.

“Can we please just go back to sleep? I don´t really feel entirely in the mood right now.”

“Oh doll, that sounded much different a while ago. I didn´t even touch you all that much, yet you were still soaking those lace panties for me.” He climbs on top of you, rasping the words into your ear. “And the position I found you laying in… You´re such a fucking tease. It´s like you were begging for it.”

A sickening cold fear spreads in your system. A yelp leaving your mouth as he pulls you down by the ankle so your core is pressed to his. You are too in shock to return his kiss when he forcefully presses his mouth to yours. This is not the Aegon you know, but something tells you that this is the real Aegon. Coming back from the shocked state, you try to push him away. Hands pressed to his chest and legs eagerly searching for a way out, but he is too strong.

“I don´t want this, Aegon. Please stop.” You whimper into his shoulder as he mouths at your neck. Nibbling at all the most sensitive spots. Hating yourself for the growing even wetter as he rubs his length against your core. You don´t even know how or when he rid himself of his own pants. All you know is, that he now is pulling on your night shirt. Eager to get it off while simultaneously pinning your wrists down over your head so you would stop pushing him away.

As it turns out it is harder to do than imagined and so another yelp falls from your lips as he rips the fabric off your body. Your chest moving with fast and harsh breaths.

“Shh, everything´s alright. I´m here to take care of you.” He silences you with another unrequited, bruising kiss.

You are helpless against him, squirming and writhing underneath his much larger frame. This whole situation is so absurd and to add to all of it, when you bite his lower lip in a desperate attempt of self defense and getting the upper hand, he simply laughs. Tears start to prick in your eyes as the sound reaches your ears. As much as you want to blink them away they free themselves. Running down your burning cheeks accompanied  by a sob.

“Aww, don´t cry doll. I´m going to  make you feel so good. Just relax and let it wash over you.” His free hand wanders down to roughly caress one of your breasts. Rolling and tweaking the nipple between his fingers until the bundle of nerves stands hard at attention and your back arches off the bed. Which he takes as the sign to go ahead in what he is doing. Bringing his mouth down to the other breast, sucking and kissing on it until that nipple looks much the same like the other.

With one swift motion Aegon pushes inside of you, his cock stretching you out like no one had before. It is nothing like your first time together. He immediately starts to thrust inside of you at a fast pace.

"Aegon... please... st-op." You cry out to him to no avail.

Rutting into you at an almost breakneck pace. His head bows down and you feel puffs of hot breath hit the skin where your neck and shoulder meet. The feeling is utterly upsetting and you want to throw up at the same time you lost all the strength in your body. It´s all futile.

“I already told you I´m not gonna stop. You know deep down that you enjoy this. So why don´t you make this easier for yourself and stop fighting it.” His teeth sink into your tender skin harshly.

"Aahhh! Fuck, that hurts! Why are you doing this?" You question him.

"Because you deserve to be worshipped. You are a goddess walking amongst men." He nibbles on your ear. Much softer than the bite before, but that doesn't make anything better.

His hips continue to piston into yours. The sound of wet skin slapping against skin filling the otherwise quiet apartment alongside with your bitter cries. The moon outside is the only source of light illuminating his features.

You try to turn your head away from him, but he forces it back by your chin. So instead you close your eyes. You can´t stand to look at him anymore. His face that looked so sweet and innocent to you before is now distorted into a grimace of sick pleasure. Eyes closely watching your every reaction and a sheen of sweat covering his skin, sticking the front locks of his silver blond hair to his forehead.

With a few more thrusts he comes inside of you and for a short moment you have the hope that this is it. Aegon relaxes against you, but as your cries become weaker you notice how he only seems to get harder inside your warmth.

“Can you please let me go now?” You try again with a quiet, shaky voice.

“Oh, you think I am done with you yet? No no no. We are done when you come around my cock and accept me for who I am. What you made me.” His tone is nothing short of condescending and he tuts at you as your crying grows hysterical again.

You guess the gesture is supposed to soothe you, but it has the exact opposite effect.

You cry yourself into a near state of incoherency as he pushes your knees up against your chest forcefully, giving him a whole new angle inside of you. The way the head of his cock bullies your sweet spot is the final straw. It hurts. Despite it feeling so wrong it feels so good. You hate yourself even more as inadvertent pleasure runs through you like electricity. Making your toes curl and your eyes roll back. You scream louder with every thrust of his until you are near voiceless. You try to remind yourself that your body reacting to it doesn´t make it any more right and it doesn´t mean that you secretly enjoy it. But it´s so hard.

“You like it deep, don´t you?” Aegon´s voice in your ear painfully pulls you back into reality.

“Please.” You beg one last time, but the plea, just like all the others, falls onto deaf ears.

Your body gives up any last fight it has left. Quietly sobbing when your walls flutter around him and your hips start to shake. A wave of pleasure, or maybe just disguised shame, washes over you, provoking Aegon´s second orgasm.

“You are mine. You will never leave me. No one can love you like I do.” His voice sounds so soft. So genuine.

You almost want to believe him, but that would require a level of coherency you currently do not possess.

As you lay there with your whole body shaking, trying to come down from this experience and waiting for what he would do next, you ask yourself where things had gone wrong. What did you do to provoke this? To deserve this? Yet no matter how hard you pray to the seven for a sign or anything at all really, you don´t get an answer.

[apparently-i-am-an-adult]

Finding Equal Footing.

Episode 8 babyyyyy here we go!

I love everything about this opening scene, and just now rewatching it it finally clicked as to why. White and Sean start off on different levels and end the scene on unequal footing.

This entire time, White and Sean have been going back and forth with each other, often misunderstanding what each other has to say. They had their biggest problem during their last mission, with White not understanding Sean’s anger and Sean incapable of understanding White’s compassion and consideration. It was only later, at the protests, and under the pride flag, that they both understood what they could actually achieve.

Of course, Sean had a couple kicks to the head on the way (thanks to Yok and his mom, mainly) but once he sees what White’s actions have led to he understands his anger and vengeance will just hurt people, and won’t actually bring about the change in society he says he wants. So he decides to apologize to White.

Sean starts by barging his way into the room. White is understandably unwilling to let him into his space, but Sean will not be denied. He overpowers white, with both his height and his strength.

Once he’s in, he goes to sit on the bed. White, upset, says, “don’t sit on the bed, sit on the floor.” Sean immediately gets up and sits on the floor with no comment and only mild reluctance. The Sean of two episodes ago would have made more of an argument. Even with the excuse White gives, “your pants are dirty,” Sean only asks if he should take his pants off. No dirty pants, problem solved.

White still refuses, and tells him to sit on the floor again. And he does. He makes the crack about White sitting in the bed, but White responds “well it’s my room,” and Sean doesn’t say anything. I think it’s a quiet acknowledgment of their fight earlier in Sean’s room about White’s space there.

Notice White sits straight, above Sean, now dominant, with the higher ground. It isn’t until Sean offers him the drink does he lean in.

White asks if Sean is there to apologize.

Sean is, but he still has his pride, so he won’t admit White’s right. White still has a feeling, though. He lays down on the bed, bringing himself closer to Sean’s level, but still looking down on him. White is a petty bitch, so he steals the alcohol from him mod-swig.

(Also notice how White grimaces when drinking alcohol except when drinking Vodka with Eugene. He made this same face when Todd gave him a drink too. HC white is a vodka only man.)

White accepts the olive branch of alcohol, and asks Sean what he’s there to talk about.

Sean apologizes, and White calls him on it.

Sean acknowledges White’s success, and how they’ve never had this much public support of their actions before. White, smiling, Sean’s facing him and leaning in. They’re getting closer to understanding each other, but they’re not on the same level yet.

White makes the first move.

He gets off the bed. He sits on the floor, across from Sean, looking directly into his eyes. He knows what he’s asking. Why do you hate him so much? What did he do that would make you attack innocent parties? Why would you throw yourself on the pyre for the hope that he would burn?

Tell me, White says. Trust me.

White sits there, reaching out, meeting Sean where he is, refusing to to let him be alone. He ducks his head down, and White follows him, refusing to look away.

Sean spills his soul, telling White everything about how dark his life got. White brings him back by touching his face.

“You’re still here. Thank you for telling me,” White says. He knows how important this is to Sean, knows that it wasn’t easy for Sean to tell him. “Now I understand you better. I want you to trust me like I trust you.”

Even with how Black has changed, Sean can’t imagine he would event want to actually understand him. To him Black couldn’t care that much. And trusting him, when Black would question everything he does?

White proves it.

(Side note: this isn’t just White, this is Gun. He’s just Like That. He will trust fall with zero prompting. Look it up on YouTube, there’s a compilation. It’s hilarious.)

Anyway. White returns Sean’s trust with a show of his own. Sean doesn’t fail. They’re here, together, on (almost) equal footing now.

Sean offers white a chance to punch him to make it even. White bonks him in the head instead, and Sean calls it even. And there, laughing, having cleared the air between them, having offered real evidence of trust between them, White and Sean are finally on the same page and can move forward together.

[mushupork4u]

Truth and Drink Mayans MC

•18+

•Sexual innuendo’s

•Mentions of Sex

•Weed/Alcohol

The sexy Seven names

-Bambi: A sweet/childish person

-Mouse:small girl with dark brown hair and daring dark eyes to match.

-Rake:girl who’s nails leave scratches on the guys backs(Hoe Scratches)

-Sugar: She has diabetes

-Spice: Raging Anger issues

-Prana: Bit a guys dick after he head shoved her(Piranha)

-NyQuil: She puts guys to sleep

Bambi is a quiet bar hand at the club house, on a night where the boys aren’t around, the girls loosen up, drink and listen to music, thought after a night of truth and drink the next day the girls get a talking to as they get to rewatch their night via bar camera.

(PART 1)

It was late and after a day of the boys being in and out, it was finally time for the Sexy Seven (the name the group of girls came up with for the best bar hands when the group of seven were finally on the same shift) to spend some time together. They tried to meet at least three times a month to relax at the club house.

Tonight the boys where out and finally it was time for the mice to play. Or at least that what mouse said, a small girl with dark brown hair and daring dark eyes to match. She was the smallest, but also the rowdiest when it came to taking a man home at night.

____________________________________________

Finally sitting around on chairs and couches, the girls were in a square, close enough to pass around the pink shot glasses and a few bottles of cheap tequila they knew the boys would not miss.

“Alright ladies, everybody got their shots?” Spice called, flinging her red braid over her shoulder.

A few whoops and clinks were heard in response making the girl smile. “Fucking good, cause we’re getting white girl waisted.”

The first round of drinks were passed around, some confidence shots, Sugar would call them. After the music was on and the girls started passing around blunts, the giggles started and so did Prana’s good ideas. “Truth and drink time.”

Bambi had smiled, loving the game ‘Truth or Drink’ it didn’t just give her a rush of anxiety, it gave her some raunchy fun secrets to blurt out in hopes it wouldn’t reach anybody else’s ears.

“Whew. Alright who’s starting?” Rake questioned and beside her Bambi stilled, still a tad bit new to the game but familiar behind the bar. Turning, the albino looking girl eyed her friend.

“Bambi?” She questioned sweetly, her almost purple looking eyes grilling down, at the copper haired girl.

A few giggles slipped from the other girls, NyQuill however, waved them away. “You haven’t indulged us a lot, who would you like to have a threesome with?” Her voice was sweet and dark, just like her warm toned skin and eyes.

But the question still made her cheeks warm, still made her stomach squeeze uneasily. The nice edged smile and charmed voice however eased Bambi all the more into looking down at her hands speaking. “Any two guys?”

“Yep.” Rake smirked, turned into her side as she looked down at the beautifully shy girl beside her.

Even if the six girls worked with her many times together and alone, they knew very little about her, this would allow them to reveal something, anything.

Bambi bit her lip, going through names, and while she was no lightweight, she could feel the alcohol in her stomach burn.

“Coco and Angel.” She smiled, it was bashful and probably predictable because she always served those two boys with a smile and sweet talked them until they were Happy than a horse in a field of hay, but she didn’t mind the girls knowing that she held a little bit of list for them.

“Okay who owes me twenty?” NyQuill asked, Rake and Sugar had passed the dark skinned girl the green crash.

“What the fuck?” Spice asked, wide eyes with a confused quiver of her lips. Bambi had just looked around at the girls. “Was it that obvious?”

“Please.” Mouse scoffed. “You basically eye fuck them until they’re out of eyesight.

“Oh.” The copper haired girl licked her lips before the tequila burned down her throat. If the guys knew she wanted than so badly, why didn’t they try anything yet.

Sugar passed the blunt to the girl, letting her take a hit before squiggling her eyebrows. “You gunna tell us why, hermosa?”

The girl giggled, giving the blunt to Prana before she breathed the smoke out. “Well…Coco has that dominant side to him but I feel like if a girl just pushed a little bit more, he could definitely be a bottom.”

Looking around, the girls held smirks and some looks of surprise.

“What?” She asked.

Rake broke the silence by snorting. “Your a lil freak. I told y’all it was the quiet ones.”

Bambi had let a bark out by that, shaking her head. “You should see my dreams.”

“I basically do.” Mouse quipped. “You can’t keep any emotion off your face when your at the bar.”

“Shut up—look how red she’s getting.” Sugar drawled and the group had finally begun to ease into comfortable territory.

“What about Angel?” Rake smirked, looking down at the girl who she so desperately wanted to kiss but didn’t want to push into weird boundaries.

Bambi had looked around at the girls awaiting smiles, knowing that this might just tip her into ‘no going back’. “I just want to be pounded to sleep.”

“OH MY GOD—“ Spice had piped, tequila shooting from her mouth and onto Rakes feet. “EW ITS STICKY.”

The night was finally hitting the ‘ground zero point’ meaning that the girls were fancy on each other, doing shots of of each others bodies and and smoking until their faces were red.

It was comfortable, and Bambi was happy enough to sit back and indulge in watching it all go down. Finding comfort in the women that were so comfortable that they could be anything to anyone at any moment and still be true to themselves. They could be mean bitchy bartenders but they were also the best girlfriends in the world and always had her back.

After the girls had settled for another round and the story of NyQuill sleeping with Bishop came to light Bambi had almost died as the black girl talked about the threesome they had with Daniela. “And I swear that man knew she was watching because when she wrapped her hand around my neck he smiled.”

“NO—“ Sugar almost screeched, worry evident in her southern drawl and her hand clutching at her cross necklace.

Mouse however kept her leg bouncing as the cigarette between her lips moved slightly. “Sounds like a good time.”

“It was.” NyQuill smiled, before her eyes flared back over at Bambi, the girls nails clinking against a half empty bottle.

“Cariño? Who was the first person you wanted to sink your nails in?” She asked quietly, almost like whispering a secret, but everybody stopped talking to wait for her answer.

The girl tapped her chin, falsely thinking before she came out with it. “I feel like it’s obvious but Coco.”

Take had taken a sip of her water before she sight out a quiet ‘boringgggg’.

“Shhhhhh. I wanna hear why.” Spice waved the girl off, eyes focused intently.

The copper haired girl fidgeted with her fingers. “He’s so mouthy and tense all the time. Between club shit, and other stuff he’s always so tense and always has an attitude.” Her body sunk down the couch, lips coming up to lick her lip gloss.

“I feel like my magical Punani could fix his attitude.”

At her words the basically dead bar was in a riot again, laughed balancing off of each wall and the weed finally kicking in.

The girls had bounced from topic to topic then, with pasts somehow coming up, and of course Bambi had butting in.

She somehow mentioned the reason she had such flexibility was because her other jobs included being an Ex cam girl and she was a current pole dancer.

Which lead to her eating a bag of chips and laying her head down of Prana’s lap, tears falling out of her eyes freely. “And my ex dumped me, which is stupid because we were living in the expensive apartment he wanted—WHICH IS WHY I BECAME A CAM GIRL IN THE FIRST PLACE, SO WE COULD AFFORD IT.”

“That bitch.” Spice muttered, a pissed off huff coming out of her throat. Sugar shook her head, her last tequila shot being used wisely. “Cabroñ.”

“I got a question.” Rake sputtered, her hand dropping as fat as it raised. Bambi nodded at her. “Out with it.”

“Would you rather do a pole dance or a striptease?” The blonde asked, red lipstick smudging as she wiped her dry lips.

A throat cleared before a voice uttered a humorous. “That is shit timing.”

“Nah it’s a good question.” Bambi sat up, her nails dragging up her legs lightly, letting a shiver crawl up her spine. “Being a cam girl was so draining, pole dance.” A shot was handed from her by Spice, the girl looking at with with an understanding glint in her eye.

With the quiet gulp of her own shot, the girls around her did a few shots of their own, Spice taking a guilt shot straight from the bottle, NyQuill and Rake clinking their beers together and Prana taking a actual shot from the pink glass.

“Alright guys, hit me with something else.” Bambi begged, the awkwardness almost felt suffocating.

Mouse laughed, a snorts falling from her nose and shaking her small body. “Who would you give a strip tease?”

“Fucking hell.” Sugar hand came up to the bridge of her nose, squeezing lightly as Spice let out a laugh she tried to hold in.

Bambi herself had lost it and laughed, letting the other know it was a light situation, not something to be afraid of mentioning.

“I’d give Coco a strip tease. His eyes get me going.” The copper haired girl collected herself, arms attaching over the back of the couch.

Absentmindedly she let her eyes crawl over the ink covering her body, letting the line blur together as her eyes closed.

“What about his eyes gets you going?” Prana asked confused, looking to her right at the girl.

Bambi, smiled in response, sleep laced in her tone but that neediness in her voice still there. “The crazy look he gives people when he’s about to clock em’ in the face.”

The group had looked around, a few concerned glared of ‘us she serious’ airing in the room before Mouse spoke up. “You’re into that shit?”

“Big time.” The girls lips sputtered happily as a shot was nudged into her mouth for her, a messy swallow leaving a few drops of tequila dripping down her jaw and onto her neck.

She dozed of lightly, letting the girls talk about how each guy has a different vibe going around him. How some of them were ‘total daddy material’ and how others ‘did not fit this life style’.

If was funny hearing such alike and different women talk about their types, how one day they would all split ways and get married and hopefully eventually had kids that would never know this life.

“Bambi? You alive?” NyQuill asked, her sharp nails poking at the girls face and making one of her eyes open. “I’m alive.” She rasped and the girl smiled.

“We asked you a question.” Mouse’s voice sounded somewhere near the bar. Lifting her head up, she saw that Spice and Mouse were playing pool. The other girls crowded around enjoying themselves. “Repeat it.”

“Who would you pole dance for?” Sugar chimed, passing out a pack of cards with Rake and Prana at the bar.

The cross faded girl barely let her mind register the question before she answered.

“Ezekiel, He has that look.”

The girls looked around,,knowing that none of them had even thought of the prospect as a contender. He wasn’t one of the Mayans until he was patched in.

“What look?” Rake asked, an eyebrow quirked at the girl who was now fully lying down with NyQuill rubbing her back.

“The fresh out of prison look.” Bambi sighed, knowing she was going into stupidly drunk territory. “When they just need to be taken care of and babied. Makes me wanna wrap him in bubble wrap.”

“Ewww.” Someone sounded near the pool table, and Bambi’s middle finger went up. “Eat shit, I love criminals.”

“I’ve only eaten ass once…and it was awesome.”

“Ewww.”

Bambi chuckled at the twos conversation, the voices coming near the bar letting her know to never get near any of those threes mouths.

“You’re down bad.” NyQuill whispered to her, she smiled almost dreamily. “Trust me I know.”

The dark skin girl looked at the newbie before she eyes the clock above their head. “Chicas, final rounds.”

“Awe.”

“Feels like we just got here.”

Mouse had been one of the few girls who needed to drive home so she couldn’t drink another round and it looks like Bambi was out for the count as she was basically snoring on the club couch.

But that didn’t stop her from straddling the girl and poking her awake. “Hello?” The copper haired girl groaned before shoving Mouse on the other side of the couch.

“If you were okay play Kiss, Marry, Kill. Between Creeper, Ezekiel and Taza…who would what be and why?” The dark haired girl grinned as the other had finally sat up on her elbows and yawned. “I wanna go home.”

The ladies at the bar laughed and it earned another groan from bambi before Mouse had shushed them. “I’ll drive you home, after you answer.”

“Kiss Creeper cause he seems like a gentleman, marry Ezekiel cause…if I’m gunna marry anybody it’ll be Ezekiel, and kill Taza cause I’ve barely spoken to him.”

Her answer was short and simple before she rose from the couch and wobbled her way to the bar for her jacket and purse.

“Kill Taza? But he’s so sweet.” Sugar hummed, looking at Bambi with a confused smile.

“Maybe to you.” The copperhead groaned. “But every time I hand him a beer he looks like I shoved a dirty thong in his bike engine.”

The ladies laughed, and NyQuill had sighed, the girls had fun, but they were also tired and emotionally exhausted from the last few weeks they had. “Alright girls, head out, and stay safe. Call me tomorrow morning.”

One by one, the shot glasses were collected, the roaches were in the ashtray and somehow, nobody puked on the ride home.

As the ladies had left one by one, Mouse had gotten Bambi in her car and taken her back to her one bedroom apartment. Letting the girl pass out on the couch with a bottle of water, a bucket and a sloppy kiss to the forehead before she locked the door and left the spare key in the mailbox.

The night had been full of laughs and dirty secrets, just like the saying Laugh Now and Cry Later, the Cry Later part would carry on in the morning.

[tmntxthings]

Hi!!! Just wanted to say again I absolutely love your writing!!! You're amazing!!! If it's ok could I please request 2012 Leo x reader (sorry I'm not sure if you do 2012 Leo since he's not on your masterlist, if not then please ignore!)...where the reader has to stay late for classes but ends up sick or injured on the way home and Leo noticed his SO while on patrol and uses the healing hands technique on them? Sorry I hope that's alright to ask! I sort of watched season 3 episode 18 "The deadly venom" again and I just find it so cool that Leo can do it!!!! I hope you're having a lovely day!!!

Healing Hands

author’s notes: soooo i didn’t wanna keep you waiting, I haven’t watched 2k12 in forever, I’m rewatching rn, currently on season 2 so I looked up some utube videos for reference of the healing hands, i hope you enjoyyyy~

warnings: blood, violence, angst, comfort ending

—————————————————————————

You packed up your things, ready to finally be done with today. You were still at school, having had practice for the soccer team and then going straight back to the classroom where they offered makeups since you had missed a test or two. By the time you were done with everything, bag packed and walking out of the double doors, the city around you had turned dark.

You shivered as you walked down the steps to the sidewalk, you hated New York at night. This wasn’t time square where everything was lit up by billboards. No the only thing illuminating the street was the street lights and they had long spaces where you’d have to make due without light. To put it simply, you were scared. You had heard stories as of late about a new gang rising up and taking over the streets when nightfall came around.

So you were speed walking home, trying to calm yourself down as you put in your earbuds to listen to some music. Had you known it was a bad idea to do more than just one makeup test you would’ve left it for tomorrow but, you were the type of person who wanted to just get things done as soon as possible. You tried thinking of other thoughts, and immediately green and blue came to mind. You smiled glancing up at the rooftops wondering if they were on patrol yet.

You sighed, not seeing anything but shadows as you did a little circle, just in case, looking at all the rooftops in your vicinity. And then your heart jumped as you noticed four figures slinking in the dark on one particular building. You were just about to call out to them, thinking it was the turtles but they jumped down into an alleyway. So you made your way over there, smiling brightly wondering if Leo would be surprised, when you rounded the corner, you stopped in your tracks.

Four figures dressed in black, snickering to themselves about being bored with no action and no turtles around. You were retracing your steps trying to be as quiet as possible but it didn’t matter, “Hey!” one of them noticed you and you froze. “Looking for trouble?” another one asked as they all turned and started to approach you. “No no I was just leaving,” you said and you bolted for it. Back out to the sidewalk you were now looking for people. But as your head whipped this way and that, all the while running as fast as you could, your heart sank. No one was around.

A hand grabbed your shoulder and pulled so hard that you went careening to the ground. Your earbuds clattering to the ground as well. “Where do you think your going??” You were surrounded instantly, four black masks looking down at you. Your elbows had taken the brunt of the fall trying to stop yourself but only making it worse for yourself as you were now scraped up and in pain. “Kinda pretty..” one of them crouched down, hand reaching out to touch your face and you batted the hand away. Glaring, “leave me alone.” you said trying to keep a steady voice.

You had to get your phone, call Leo somehow, before things got out of hand. You tried sitting up but you were met with hands pushing you back down, “who said you could get up??” one of them bellowed and you tried to sit up again out of spite and you were met with a kick to the ribs. You curled in on yourself gasping and groaning as it soon became hard to breath. “Great going, look whatcha did!” One of them muttered as they all just watched you wither in pain. “Move again and you’ll get more than a kick,” said the one who had hurt you, and you watched as he pulled out a knife.

“For fucks sake, this psycho!”

“Shut up!”

“If you go stabbing the toy no one will get to play with it!”

“Stabbing is playing.”

An argument soon was in way and you tried to inconspicuously get your phone from your back pocket. Once it was in your hand you felt hope trickle back into your mind, all you had to do now was call Leo or maybe shoot a text? “Calling up a hero?” your hand froze as someone spoke softly beside you, the argument still going on and actually increasing to the two pushing each other but you hadn’t realized they weren’t all occupied. You looked up to see one masked face peering down at your phone screen. “No one’s gonna be able to save you from us, you ran into the wrong crowd sweetheart,”

You clicked Leo’s contact before the guy could stop you, it may have rang twice before the struggle was over and he hung up the phone. Hopefully that would be enough for Leo to realize something was terribly wrong…

。・゜・( pov change: leo )・゜・。

Leo had already been out on patrol when he felt his t-phone buzz. He pulled it out and had been about to answer your call, smiling once he noticed it was you, but it ended before he could answer. He called back, still jumping from building to building, but when you didn’t answer and he got sent to your voicemail he stopped. You had just called him.. why weren’t you answering?

Leo ran through some possibilities. You got another call and were busy at the moment, your phone died… after those two very rational and likely answers he started to worry. What if you were in trouble? It was all he needed to head to your place. Wait no, you had told him you would call after you finished with school, he’d check the route from your school and head to your place after. If anything had happened the chances were more likely on the route home. Leo gritted his teeth as he took off, hoping he was wrong, hoping he was just worrying needlessly.

It didn’t take him long to find you. The four foot hadn’t dragged you off to an alleyway, and Leo wasted no time unsheathing his swords and fighting until they were rendered unconscious. His blood boiled when he saw that you were unconscious as well. He dropped to his knees at your side, as he hurriedly picked you up. Pushing to his feet, he needed to get you out of here, assess your wounds elsewhere. His thoughts were going a mile a minute and he wondered if he should call Donnie.

Once he had put some distance between him and the foot clan soldiers he decided he couldn’t wait any longer. You were still knocked out or that’s what he guessed and when he noticed blood on his hands he was looking all over you. “Y/n, oh god no,” he placed you down, not wasting anymore time as he started the healing hands ritual that Master Splinter had taught him. You were bleeding from one of your legs and he focused his hands there. Holding back tears and trying to concentrate on the mantra, he couldn’t mess this up, for your sake.

When he finished he was looking down at you holding his breath. Your eyelids fluttered opened, looking around and meeting his eyes, “Leo,” you smiled weakly. And he couldn’t stop himself, in tears now, as he pulled you close, hugging you tightly, one hand around your shoulders as the other petted your hair. “Y/n! Are you okay? Are you still in pain? You were bleeding and I-“ he choked up burying his face in your neck. You hugged him back saying, “I’m okay, it’s alright now, thanks to you,” your mind was a little befuddled but you could remember how much trouble you had been in.

When Leo had calmed down, tears drying up, even though you had said you were fine, he looked down at where the blood had stained your pants. “One of them stabbed me in the calf,” you murmured, feeling through the slice on your jeans, your fingers came back clean, no blood. “I used a ninja technique to heal you,” Leo sniffed and you nodded, figuring that would be the explanation. You wondered if you would have a scar or if you were completely healed. You’d have to check when you got home. “Do you wanna come back with me to the lair?” Leo was speaking softly but he had this determined look in his eyes.

“I would but it’s a school night…” you murmured, reaching out for his hand. He squeezed your hand, “Then, can I come over?” Leo asked, not wanting to leave you just yet. He couldn’t! He’d worry to death all the way back to the lair until he got to see you again. You gave him a small smile, “you wouldn’t mind? cause I’d really like that,” you admitted, you felt like you were in a state of shock. Your fear and going unconscious then being woken up and in Leo’s arms, it all happened so fast and you just knew you were going to have a breakdown soon. You didn’t want to be alone, but more accurately you wanted Leo to be there.

“Of course, c’mon let’s get you home, want me to carry you?” And before you could answer you were in his arms again. He carried you bridal style just like before, “thank you Leo,” you said and he nodded, getting you safely to your apartment. Letting you walk through the front while he would wait at your window. He watched you carefully as you disappeared through the doors, blowing out a breath as he climbed up the fire escape to your window and waited. He took out his t-phone and updated his brothers on where he would be for the night, not wanting anyone to come track him down.

You rushed around your room after taking a quick shower, changing, brushing your teeth, trying to do everything quickly before pushing back the curtains and finding your favorite turtle waiting. “Sorry for the wait,” you said sheepishly as he ducked his head and entered into your bedroom. “It’s cool, are you ready for bed?” He said standing by the window. You nodded and it got quiet. The two of you had been dating for a couple of weeks. Hugging and a few chaste kisses were the farthest the two of you had gone. Sleeping with one another, that wasn’t something Leo was even thinking about, he’d just wanted to be here for you, maybe take a nap on the floor, leaned up against the wall. But ultimately he was here to ensure your safety and give himself peace of mind. But as you stood there with him instead of going lay down, Leo realized you might need more than just that.

“Y/n?” He said and you looked up from the floor. Your thoughts had went back to them pushing you to the ground. Reliving it all in your mind. You bit down on your lower lip, “I’m here, no one is going to hurt you,” he promised, one hand going to cup your cheek. You closed your eyes at the feeling and took some deep breaths. “D-do you think you can sleep next to me? Just for tonight?” You said opening your eyes and blinking quickly to get rid of the tears. He nodded, offering a sad smile, he hated that this had happened. Hated he hadn’t been able to stop it before it happened.

As the two of you got comfortable in your bed, you snuggled close to him, sighing and finally started to relax. “Leo, thank you for saving me,” you whispered quietly as you started to fall asleep. He kissed to top of your head, “always,” he said and felt your breathing deepen as you slipped into sleep. He vowed to make this city safer for you. He’d do everything in his power. Because you were worth fighting for, and he closed his eyes.

[fangirlwriting-stories]

Stay Alive (For Me)

Summary: Janus has never thought of being a private detective as something particularly dangerous beyond the case he’s working on, but when he gets a call from a serial killer he’s been tracking down who’s kidnapped Virgil, he might need to make some mental revisions to that assumption.

Virgil, meanwhile, is just trying not piss his kidnapper off.

Author’s Note: So, my dear friend @shadowling-guistical graduated college recently and needs to be celebrated for such an outstanding feat!  So I wrote her an anxceit whump fic.  Mishii, you are something else and I love you dearly.  Enjoy!

Out of all the ways Virgil had expected to spend his two weeks alone while Patton and Logan were camping, getting kidnapped hadn’t been on the list.  Honestly, his main expectation had been to spend most of it home alone and rewatching old horror movies.  He hadn’t expected to wake up in complete darkness with a pounding headache, tied to a chair.

The last part had taken him longer to realize, because the pounding headache part had made it hard to assess his surroundings at first.  But when he tried to shift and sit up, he was met with the realization that he was already seated, and also that he couldn’t move his arms or legs.

“Don’t try and struggle,” a voice said.  “I won’t hurt you if you cooperate.”

“Oh, gee, thanks so much,” Virgil muttered, keeping his voice too quiet for the other person to hear because he wasn’t an idiot.  “Who are you?”

“Nice try,” the voice said, and Virgil could practically hear him rolling his eyes.  “But that’s not your concern.  You’re just here until I get what I want.”

“I’m ransom then, awesome.”  Virgil looked around, trying to find the source of the voice and trying to figure out if he had any memory of how he’d gotten here.  He vaguely remembered going to bed last night… then waking up in the middle of the night to someone grabbing him.  When they felt him stir they slammed his head into his headboard, which was probably why it was pounding.

Virgil’s gaze finally landed on a shape over in the shadows as his eyes continued to adjust.

“In a sense,” the man said, and didn’t say anything else.

“What, I don’t even get to know why I’m here?” Virgil asked.  “That seems like a common courtesy I’m owed, doesn’t it?”

The man walked forwards a couple steps and slapped Virgil across the face.  Virgil blinked in surprise.  His cheek started to sting.

“I told you to cooperate,” the man hissed.  “Listen next time.”

Virgil swallowed, and the man walked over and sat back down where he’d been before.

“How long am I going to be here?” Virgil asked weakly, trying to brace himself in case the man decided to come over and slap him again.

Luckily for that possibility, however, the man seemed more interested in pulling out his phone and dialing a number, which probably meant Virgil was about to get some information about what the hell was happening.  Especially since, after it started ringing, the man put it on speaker and looked back at Virgil.

“You’re going to speak first,” he said.  “Say anything about where you are and you’ll be moved.”

Virgil wasn’t stupid enough to snap back that he didn’t even know where he was.  He imagined saying anything about being in a dark room with whoever the hell this was would qualify as that.  He wasn’t sure what the hell to expect when the phone was picked up, but it certainly wasn’t what happened.

“Remus, if that’s you again I swear to god.  I can and will get a new phone number—”

“Janus?”

There were a couple long seconds of silence.

“Virgil?”

Before Virgil could say anything else, the man across from him spoke up instead.  “Hello, Janus.  Lovely to hear from you again,” he said, like he hadn’t called Janus.

Janus was silent for another couple seconds.  “Francis?  What the hell are you playing at—”

Francis took the phone off speaker and put it to his ear before Janus could get any further along in that sentence.  “Do you understand my point now?  Keep quiet and no one gets hurt.”

Virgil’s throat went dry, as he started to realize how serious the situation he’d found himself in was.

“That option is not currently available,” Francis said to some response Janus gave, still sounding like a casual asshole.  “We can debate further in the future based on your behavior for the next week.  I’ll contact you again.”

Francis hung up the phone and set it to the side on something else, probably a table or another chair.

“You’re trying to use me to buy Janus’ silence?” Virgil asked, still a little bit in disbelief.  “That’s a terrible idea.”

Francis stood up, walked across the room, and smacked Virgil across the face again.  “What part of cooperate did you not understand?”

“Janus hates me, you idiot.  We haven’t spoken in years.  He’s not going to care what you do to me.”

This time a fist hit his cheek, and Virgil let out a cry of pain.  “If you don’t stop talking back,” Francis said.  “You’re not going to last the first week.”

Virgil bit his lip hard and kept his mouth shut, and after another moment Francis seemed satisfied, and walked over to sit down again.  It didn’t make Virgil’s point wrong.  It did make him screwed, if his only chance to get out of here was Janus caring about his well-being.

After another couple minutes, Francis walked around him to the other side of the room.  Virgil heard what sounded like a door opening.  Light spilled into the room as he did and illuminated a chair, a table, and nothing else.

“I’ll bring you food in a couple hours,” Francis said, then left, shutting the door behind him.

Virgil let out a shaky breath and leaned forward as much as he could.  Holy shit.  What the hell had he been dragged into?

…

Janus did not like waking up early.  This wasn’t necessarily a large problem, because unless a case he was working on required him to wake up early for some reason, he could sleep as late as he wanted, which meant that most days, he wasn’t up until ten, or later depending on what he’d done the night before.

So needless to say, Janus wasn’t too thrilled about getting a phone call that woke him up at 5AM.  He was less thrilled when he saw ‘Unknown Caller’ on the ID, which meant it was a 90% chance that Remus was calling him again.

Remus had been a client a few months ago.  Janus had helped him find his brother, who had vanished one night without saying anything (except a note about how he needed to ‘find himself’).  Remus had apparently gotten it into his head while they’d been figuring everything out that Janus was lonely.  And apparently his persistence knew no bounds, because he hadn’t stopped calling Janus since, and always with an unknown number that Janus couldn’t just block.

He also knew Remus would keep calling until he answered, though, so Janus sat up and tried to shake himself awake enough to put his best angry voice on.

“Remus, if that’s you again I swear to god.  I can and will get a new phone number—”

“Janus?”

It took Janus a couple seconds to process the voice, because he hadn’t heard it in so long, and frankly, he hadn’t thought he was going to hear it ever again.

“Virgil?”

Before Virgil could say anything else, a new, unfortunately also familiar voice spoke up.  “Hello, Janus.  Lovely to hear from you again.”

Janus squeezed his eyes shut, trying to shove down the sudden panic that arose in his chest.  “Francis?  What the hell are you playing at—”

“Do you understand my point now?” Francis cut him off.  “Keep quiet and no one gets hurt.”

Janus kept breathing, trying to move past the idea of Virgil alone with the man he’d suspected for a while now was a serial killer.  Why had he thought it was a horrible idea to go to the cops with his evidence again?  Well, because cops were garbage, but that wasn’t really the point right now.

“Let him go, Francis,” Janus said.  “He doesn’t have anything to do with this.  Let him go and leave him be.”

“That option is not currently available,” Francis said.  “We can debate further in the future based on your behavior for the next week.  I’ll contact you again.”

And with that, the fucker hung up.

Janus stared at the phone for another long moment, then jumped up from his bed and ran for the door.  He wasn’t going to use his own phone to do this.

He ran across the hall and started banging on his neighbor’s apartment door.  It took about a minute, but a very sleepy person answered.

“Janus?” Thomas murmured.  “What are you doing up in the middle of the night?”

“Can I borrow your phone?” Janus asked.

Thomas blinked at him a moment longer.  “Why?”

“Mine is dead, sorry, I just really need to call my, uh, friend, I’m worried about him.”

Thomas blinked a little more, still not looking quite awake.  “Okay, sure, just give me a second.”  He turned around and shut the door, disappearing back inside.  After far too long, he reappeared at the door, this time holding a phone.

“Thank you,” Janus said, snatching it from his hand before Thomas said anything.  “I’ll bring it right back.”  He walked across the hallway and went back into his own apartment.

He didn’t know Remus’ number since he always called with an unknown one, but he did know his brother’s.

Roman didn’t answer on the first call, because it was 5 in the morning and all reasonable people were sleeping.  He answered when Janus called again.

“Hello?”

“Roman?  It’s Janus.”

“Janus?  What the hell do you—” Roman cut himself off with a yawn.

“Is your brother with you by some miracle?”

“No?  It’s too early for this, Janus.”

“Can you give me his number?”

“Why?”

“Roman.”

“Okay, okay.  Hang on, I gotta find it.”  There was a long moment of silence as Roman was presumably going through his phone, and then he read out a number to Janus, who scribbled it down on the notepad he’d grabbed while Roman was doing that.

“Thanks, you can go back to sleep now,” Janus said, hanging up.  He dialed the number he’d written down, and got a much more chipper answer on the first ring.

“Joe’s Whore House, you got the dough, we got the hoe.”

“Remus.”

“Janny!” Remus called, sounding thrilled.  “Are you taking a page out of my book and calling me with unrecognizable numbers?  And here I thought you didn’t want to be friends!”

“Remus, I need your help.  You still have access to all of that illegal tracking stuff, right?”

“Hey, if the government uses it, how can it be illegal for me to—”

“Remus.”

Remus must have finally picked up on the seriousness in his tone, because he stopped.  “Janus, is something wrong?”

“Yes.  I need you to meet me somewhere we can talk in private but that won’t look shady.  How often are you at the library?”

“Oh, I try to convince them to put all of my monster fucking books in the kids section at least once a week.”

“Great, meet me in the study room as soon as you can.”

“Sure thing!” Remus called, and hung up.  Janus headed back out into the hallway and saw Thomas still standing there, rubbing at his eyes.

“Everything okay?” Thomas asked as Janus handed him his phone back.

“Yep, all good,” Janus lied, heading back across the hall to now pull some clothes on and get ready to head to the library.  He grabbed his car keys on the way through the door, and headed to his room to get dressed.  He did so quickly, and shoved the keys in his pocket, heading out towards his car.

He made it to the library about twice as quickly as he usually did, and headed towards the study room in the back of the library.  Remus was already there, and since it was early enough that the library was barely open, he was the only one who was.  He was sitting at a table near the back, in a place that would be hidden from any kind of cameras, and Janus was suddenly grateful that Remus was well-versed in this kind of thing.

“Hey,” Janus said, sitting down across from him.  “Thanks for coming.”

“Of course,” Remus said, sounding genuine.  “What’s wrong?”

“Did I ever mention Virgil when we were looking for your brother?”

Remus shook his head.

“Okay, well, he was my boyfriend a couple years ago.  We had a bad break up and falling out.  But I’ve been tracking this guy Francis, and—” Janus looked around one more time and lowered his voice.  “He apparently managed to track my history back that far and now he’s kidnapped Virgil.”

“Well, shit,” Remus said, leaning forward and lowering his voice too.  “How long’s he had him?”

“I can’t imagine too long,” Janus said.  “He called me just this morning.  But he hit me with one of those ‘keep quiet and no one gets hurt’ things.”

“Ah, so you need me to do all your dirty work while you sit around on your hands,” Remus said, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, when you put it like that,” Janus grumbled.  “Look, this guy isn’t Roman.  He won’t know what to look for when you’re the one trying to find him, alright?  He’d know what to look for with me, he’s clearly done his research.  But I don’t think there’s much of a reason he’d be looking for you.  You know, except for the fact that I might have accidentally given him your name.”

“What?  Why the hell would you do that?”

“I thought it was you calling!  You only ever call me with unknown numbers, you idiot.”

Remus groaned.  “Okay.  I’ll have to be careful, but I think I can still pull that off.  Hang on, let me get you…”  He reached over inside his bag and dug around for a minute, then pulled out what looked like an ancient android phone.  “I’ll text you updates on that.  Any time frame I need to worry about?”

“He said we’d negotiate again in a week depending on my behavior.”  Janus put air quotes on the last word.

Remus wrinkled his nose.  “Okay.  Any chance I can be over at your house that day when he calls?”

“Yeah, I’ll text you the address,” Janus said, ignoring the instant objection at the idea of Remus knowing where he lived.  This was for Virgil.  It had to happen.  “I’ll see you then?”

Remus stood.  “Yep.  I’ve got stuff to do now.  Have fun stewing in panic for a week.”

“Gee, thanks,” Janus sighed, standing up too.  He was getting breakfast out.  He needed it right now.

…

Virgil didn’t stay tied in the chair forever.  Eventually Francis untied him and let him walk around, though obviously he wasn’t allowed to leave the room, and it was locked anyway.  Virgil didn’t have any real way to judge how time passed other than the three meals he got a day.  He mostly spent his time trying and failing not to freak out.  He had more than a couple panic attacks tucked back into a corner.

If this guy was willing to kidnap him and hurt him to keep Janus quiet, he had no reason to believe that he wouldn’t do worse.  His life was in very real danger, and he also had no reason to believe anyone would know or care.

Logan and Patton would care, but they were still camping out in the middle of nowhere for another week and a half.  Virgil hadn’t wanted to go because they were out in the country with no cell service, in nature with bugs and humidity.  He was kind of wishing he’d gone now.  Not that it would have meant this guy wouldn’t have been able to find him, necessarily, but Logan and Patton would at least know he was missing.  In the current situation, they could come back to find that Virgil was fucking dead.

And then there was Janus.  Virgil couldn’t imagine Janus had given him much thought after Francis had hung up the phone.  Janus wasn’t going to care what happened to him.  Virgil had months of fights that culminated in a break up to serve as proof of that.  Janus had outright said he hated him multiple times.  Not that Virgil hadn’t said the same thing back, but not being hated by Janus would have been a helpful little boost to getting out of this situation.

Virgil banged his head back against the wall, running over all of their fights again.  He’d never hated Janus, not really.  He’d just been so fucking angry.  Why had he said he hated him?  If he hadn’t done that, Janus might have at least been willing to try and help him, or call the cops, or something.  But Virgil had seen his face when he’d finally packed up and left.  Janus was probably at a bar celebrating right now.  Francis was such a fucking idiot.

The door opened again, and the idiot himself walked across the room and shoved a sandwich and a cup of water at Virgil.  Virgil took them both without a word, as he’d learned pretty quickly that was safer, and Francis left the way he came.

Virgil ate the sandwich and drank the water as fast as he could, as he’d also learned pretty quickly that if he didn’t do that, Francis came back in and took them both back.  This way, after five minutes he just came and took the empty cup.

Virgil usually got up and walked around for a while after he ate, since it was when he had the most energy and it meant he wasn’t simply sitting in the same spot panicking all day.  Sometimes he went over and laid on the two chairs and table he’d shoved against the wall as a makeshift bed and took a nap.  There wasn’t much to do as a hostage.  The monotony could almost be as bad as the panic sometimes.

Virgil tried to count the meals as day markers, but some days Francis definitely gave him one or two meals instead of three.  Either way, the week had to be close to up by now, didn’t it?  He couldn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing, but his anxiety was certainly deciding to treat it as a bad thing.

That worry tied with the monotony of being here meant that he couldn’t decide whether or not to be relieved when Francis came into the room with a cell phone out along with a meal.

“The same rules apply,” Francis said as he stood in front of Virgil as he ate.  “If you say anything about where you are, we’re moving.  But your boyfriend’s been good this week, so you get to be here while I make this call.”

Virgil wasn’t sure he wanted to know what Francis’ idea of Janus being ‘good’ was.  He ate the last bite of sandwich and drank the last of his water, and Francis turned to the phone.

Virgil shifted on the chair he was sitting on so he could tuck his legs against his chest.  The phone didn’t even get a chance to ring once before Janus picked up.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Janus,” Francis said brightly.  “It’s lovely to speak with you again.”

“The feeling is not mutual,” Janus snapped back.  Virgil was surprised at the vitriol in his tone.

“Careful, Janus,” Francis said.  “You’ve been doing so well.  I’d hate for the situation to change because you can’t be polite.”

Janus didn’t say anything, and Virgil wasn’t sure what to make of that.

“I suppose you’ve been decent for the required amount of time, though,” Francis said.  “So some kind of reward is in order.”

He handed the phone over to Virgil and nodded at him, which Virgil supposed was his cue to talk.

“Janus?” he said, and his voice came out rough and scratchy.

“Virgil?” Janus said, his voice dropping into concern immediately, which took Virgil by surprise.  “Hey.  Are you alright?”

“Well,” Virgil said.  “I’ve been kidnapped.”

Janus gave a short laugh.  “Yeah, I know.  I’m so sorry you got dragged into this.  It doesn’t have anything to do with you.”

“You’re… sorry?” Virgil said slowly.

“Yeah.  I’m sure Francis was just looking for ways to silence me, and you were the first thing he found.  You shouldn’t have been involved at all.  I’m sorry.”

Virgil didn’t know what to say.  That made it sound like Janus was worried, or at least that he cared enough not to intentionally get Virgil killed.

…In retrospect, Virgil couldn’t think of many people who would do something like that.  Maybe that was more the anxiety talking than anything else.

“Are you alright?” Janus asked again after what must have been too long of a pause.

“So far,” Virgil muttered.  “I—”

“And that’s enough of that,” Francis said, snatching the phone from Virgil’s hands and taking the phone off speaker.  Janus must have said something angry, though, because a second later Francis set the phone on his lap and put it on speaker again, then grabbed Virgil’s hair and yanked.

Virgil cried out, more in surprise than pain, and moved to try and yank Francis’ hands down.  Unfortunately, Francis was much stronger than he was, and caught Virgil’s hands easily.  He took him by the arms and slammed him back against the wall, which this time resulted in a cry that was more pain than surprise.

“Stop it!” Janus snapped from the phone that was sitting over on the ground.  “Leave him alone!”

Virgil didn’t pay much attention to Francis’ reply, as he was more focused on him loosening his grip slightly as he turned back towards the phone.  Virgil bit his lip hard to steel his nerve and slammed his knee up in between Francis’ legs.  He didn’t stay long enough to hear Francis scream for too long, no matter how nice it would have been, because the second his hands let go of Virgil he was sprinting for the door.

It opened into a staircase, which Virgil started running up.  He must have been in some kind of basement or something.  He made it up the steps and into what looked like a mess of a house, and he took a couple seconds to locate what looked like the front door.  He sprinted for it and yanked the door open, heart in his throat, and started running outside, which was about when he realized the flaw in all of this plan, being that he was in the middle of a thick set of woods.

Virgil’s breathing started to quicken.  No, no, there wouldn’t be cell service in the middle of the woods.  If he could hear… cars.  That way.

Virgil started running, and made it almost to the treeline before the door slammed against a wall behind him.

“You little pest!”

Don’t look behind you, don’t look behind you, don’t look behind you—

The cars were getting louder in front of him.  He was definitely going the right way.  Virgil made it to the edge of the treeline and dove to the right.  He had never been too good at running, but it wasn’t long before he realized that wasn’t his main problem.  He hadn’t eaten enough that day.  Virgil tried to push himself further, to stop himself from slowing down, but the road still sounded too far away, and the footsteps behind him were getting closer.

Virgil swung himself around a tree and heard a satisfying thunk behind him, and kept running.  The road sounded close now, if he could just make it a little further… through those trees…

A hand on his arm.  Virgil screamed and pulled, only for his feet to skid on the mud in front of him, and he realized that the sound he thought was cars was actually a stream.

“Road was the other way,” Francis growled, and Virgil managed to look up above him before Francis slammed his elbow down on his face.

…

“Hello?  Virgil?  Virgil!”  Janus looked desperately over at Remus, who shrugged, looking just as nervous.  After another long couple minutes, Janus hung up.

“What happened?” he asked, like Remus would have a different answer now that he could use words.

Sure enough, Remus said “I don’t know,” and started looking back at his laptop again.  “I managed to track a signal down.  I’m not sure what happened at the end there.”

“You know where they are?” Janus asked, leaning over to look at Remus’ laptop.

“Yeah.  Not far out of town.  Maybe a half hour drive.” Remus closed the laptop and stood.  “I’ll head down there now.  I’ll bring Roman.”

“I’ll come too,” Janus said, standing to follow Remus.

“No you won’t,” Remus said, spinning and putting a hand on Janus’ chest to stop him.

“What— Remus!”

“If something goes wrong, you need to be sitting here like a good little boy and keeping quiet,” Remus said, moving to put his equipment back in his bag.  “I’ll keep in contact on your new terrible cell phone, or Roman will.”

“But—”

“Yeah, I know.”  Remus turned and put his hands firmly on Janus’ shoulders.  “I know.  But it’s safer for Virgil if you’re here, alright?  If this goes well, I’ll be back with him in a couple hours.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

“I’ll keep you updated.”  And with that, Remus slung his bag over his shoulder and headed out his door and towards his car.

Janus stood there for a moment trying to decide what the hell to do now.  His brain wasn’t giving him any ideas, meaning after a second the answer turned out to be ‘pace anxiously back and forth across the floor.’  He pulled out the old phone every couple seconds in case Remus had tried to contact him and it hadn’t gone off for some reason.

But that hadn’t happened, of course, and Janus really just ended up pacing back and forth for half an hour.

Finally, however, the phone started ringing and lit up with Remus’ name, and Janus answered it instantly.

“That didn’t take long,” he said, despite how much it felt like the opposite.  “Does that mean good news?”

“They’re gone.”

Janus’ blood ran cold.  “What?”

“They’re gone.  Whatever happened at the end of the call must have been him moving them both.  I don’t know where they are.”

“What— okay, what now then?  You still have the information you used the first time, right?  We don’t have to wait for him to call again?”

“No, unless he ditched it entirely I should still be able to find him again.  But it’s going to depend on how fast they’re moving, too.  And if they go somewhere without phone service, it’ll be a lot harder.”

“What are you doing now, then?”

A muffled voice sounded that wasn’t Remus, and Remus yelled back that he was coming.  “We’re going to look through the house to see if we can find any clues, and then hang out here until the signal stops moving or vanishes.”

Janus nodded.  “Okay.  What can I do?”

“You’re not going to like my answer.”

“Remus.”

“You need to stay there, Janny.  He’s clearly able to know what you’re up to.  If he’s pissed at Virgil for some reason and he sees you running, he’s just going to do something worse.  You can help by staying there.”

He was right, and Janus knew it, but that didn’t make the idea any less horrendous sounding.  “Let me use this phone to help you track them.  I know what I’m doing too.”

“I don’t need help, Janus.  Roman and I have got this.”

“I know you do, I just… Remus, I need something to do.”

Remus was quiet for a moment, then sighed.  “Alright.  But it would take you longer to track someone on that phone than it would me with my laptop.  You can be in charge of travel routes.  But it doesn’t matter where he is, you stay put, okay?”

“I know.  You don’t have to tell me,” Janus snapped.  Remus was still right, but he’d had too much stress over the past hour, and it had all built up to a point where he had to snap at someone.  Hopefully Remus got that.

“Okay, just stay on the line if you’re going to be doing that.”

“I will,” Janus said, closing the phone app and opening the map.  “Let me know when you know where they are.”

“Will do.  Hey Janus?”

“Yeah?”

“We’re going to get him out, okay?”

“We better,” Janus muttered.  He took a deep breath.  “Thanks, Re.”

Remus must have put the phone on speaker, because a second later he heard Roman calling in the distance about things he was seeing.

Janus sat back down on his bed and listened, waiting for the moment that he could actually do something.  Remus was right.  They were going to get Virgil out, and it wasn’t going to take long now, dammit.  He was going to make sure of it.

…

Virgil was shaken awake the next time that consciousness assaulted him.  Consciousness didn’t feel like the only thing to have done so.

His entire body ached all over, especially his face.  It felt like his nose was broken from where Francis had slammed his elbow into it.  His legs ached from running so hard after not having enough food or movement for a week.  His arms felt bruised from where Francis had grabbed him and slammed him into the wall, and from where he was still grabbing them now.

Virgil whimpered and tried to shift himself out of Francis’ arms, but his head was still fuzzy and Francis was able to hold on much more tightly.

“Good, you’re awake,” Francis said, like he hadn’t just shaken Virgil awake himself.  Before Virgil could decide whether or not he wanted to spit something like that back, Francis lifted his leg up and slammed his foot down on Virgil’s stomach, knocking the wind out of him.

Virgil wheezed and tried to catch his breath, but before that could happen, Francis picked him up bridal style and hoisted him high enough to drop him.  Virgil landed hard on his elbow and heard something snap.  Francis shoved a hand over his mouth to muffle his scream, pushing hard enough to bruise.

“Are you getting the picture yet?” he snapped.  “If you ever try to run again—”  He used his free hand to pick up Virgil’s broken elbow and slam it into the ground, then the wall next to them, then the ground again, over and over until Virgil had tears running down his face.  He removed his hand from Virgil’s mouth.  “Understand?”

“Please—” Virgil wheezed.

Francis pulled out something glinting and silver and dragged it down Virgil’s other arm.  Virgil shrieked, and Francis shoved a hand over his mouth again to muffle it, still pushing to the point of more pain.

“It’s a yes or no question,” Francis growled.  “You know what, don’t even speak, just nod or shake your head.  If you try and run again I will do worse.  Do you understand?”

Virgil nodded.

Francis pulled the knife out from Virgil’s arm and shoved him into the wall.  Virgil’s elbow dragging along the ground did wonders for how much pain he was in.

“This didn’t have to be personal,” Francis said, still sounding furious.  “It was meant to be a business transaction.  If you’d simply behaved until I was sure of Janus’ silence long-term, I would have let you go unharmed.”

Virgil’s elbow was hurting more the longer it was pressed underneath him, and the arm that Francis had sliced open was starting to pulse and bleed, but he didn’t dare move either of them.

“But you had to go and run,” Francis said.  “Really you have no one to blame for this but yourself.”

Or I could blame the guy who kidnapped me.  Y’know, just a thought, Virgil almost said.

“I’ll be back in a few hours with your dinner,” Francis said.  He started over towards a door down towards Virgil’s feet.  “And you know what, if you move before then, I’ll break your other elbow.”

He opened and left through the door, slamming it after him, and Virgil let out a broken sob.

He didn’t move.

…

Remus tracked Francis to an old abandoned church about an hour away from the last location.  Janus found him the quickest route there and then proceeded to go over and sit on his ass all over again.  He couldn’t even stay on the line this time, because Roman and Remus had to “focus” or some bullshit like that.

He paced back and forth until his stomach growled and he realized he’d barely eaten all day.  Janus went over to the pantry and pulled out a box of crackers.  He grabbed an entire stack and put them on a plate, then grabbed the peanut butter and slathered a spoonful on his plate, then started jamming the crackers into the peanut butter to the point of breaking many of them in half.

“He’s going to be fine,” Janus tried to reassure himself.  “Francis is dangerous, but Roman and Remus are two people.  And they’re both extremely capable and all that shit.  He’s going to be fine.  He’ll be alive when they get there and they’ll take him to the hospital and he’ll make a full recovery and he’ll be fine and you’re not going to have to be responsible for his death or anything like that.  That’s not going to happen for many reasons.  Not the least of which being Virgil is not going to die.”

Janus buried his head in his hands and screamed, doing his best to muffle it with his hands.

Evidently he didn’t do such a great job of muffling it, though, because a couple seconds later a frantic set of knocks came on his door.

Janus’ brain apparently liked the idea of doing anything, so he jumped up and rushed over to the door.  He opened it to find Thomas, looking very concerned.

“Are you alright?” he asked, sounding just as concerned as he looked.  “I heard screaming, is something wrong?”

“Uh—” Janus tried to come up with a response to that, looking around for an excuse, but his eyes just ended up landing on the crushed crackers and peanut butter.  As a result, Thomas’ eyes ended up there too, and he spoke again a second later.

“Hey,” he said, and Janus glanced back over.  “Do you want to come back across to my apartment, and I can give you some of my leftover chicken noodle soup?  You… kinda look like you need it.”

Janus swallowed.  “Okay,” he said weakly.  “Yeah, that sounds nice.”

Thomas smiled slightly, and Janus grabbed his key off the hook by the door before following Thomas across the hall.

Thomas got a tub of chicken noodle soup out from his fridge and put it in a bowl to heat up, and Janus sat down at the table and put his head in his hands, trying again to breathe.

“Oh my goodness, are you alright?” Thomas asked.  “I mean, obviously not, just… do you want to talk about it?”

Janus looked up and shook his head.  Not yet.

“Are you sure?”

Janus nodded.

“Okay,” Thomas said, looking unsure.  The microwave went off, and Thomas took the soup out, stirred it, and put it back in for another minute.

“Why are you doing this exactly?” Janus asked as Thomas turned around.  “You barely know me.”

Thomas shrugged.  “I don’t know, you’ve always seemed nice, and… rather lonely, if I’m being honest.”

“You don’t need to be honest if you don’t feel like it,” Janus grumbled, leaning his chin on his hand.  Yes, he didn’t have a ton of company over, but did Thomas really have to be so obvious about it?

Thomas cleared his throat awkwardly.  “I just… you’ve seemed really tense lately and I wanted to make sure you’re alright.  If you need a friend right now, you can talk to me.”

Janus winced.  “I’m not so sure that’s a good idea,” he said.  “I’m starting to think it’s not exactly… safe, for me to have friends.”

Thomas stared at him for a moment.  “Not safe?” he asked in bewilderment.  “Why wouldn’t it be safe?”

Before Janus could answer, the microwave went off, and Thomas turned to pull the soup out.  He stirred it again and walked over to hand it to Janus.

“Thanks,” Janus said quietly, and blew on a spoonful before taking a bite.  “This is good,” he said in surprise.

“Yeah, well don’t expect anything else out of me, that’s like the one thing I know how to make,” Thomas said, rubbing the back of his neck.

Janus laughed a little.  “I’m a pretty good cook under normal circumstances,” he said.  “Don’t judge me by my cracker mauling in there.”

Thomas laughed back.  “It looked like you went to war with them,” he said.

“They had it coming,” Janus said, taking another spoonful of soup.  “They know what they did.”

Thomas laughed again, and Janus pretended not to smile as he focused on the soup.  Before he could eat too much of it though, the phone in pocket rang, and Janus switched directions entirely, snatching it out and answering it before it finished ringing once.  “Remus?”

“I caught a dickwad!” Remus called happily.

“Is Virgil okay?” Janus asked, heart racing.

“Roman’s looking for him.  I get to watch Francy-pie sleep until the cops get here.  I think I’m gonna need you to call them though, I don’t want to take my focus off of this guy.”

“Yeah.  Keep me updated.”

“I will,” Remus said, and hung up.  Janus’ entire body sagged forward as all the tension rushed out of him at once.

“Are you alright?” Thomas asked, sounding concerned again.

Janus nodded.  “I’ve got to call the cops now.  You still want to know what happened?”

Thomas nodded.

“Alright, pay attention,” Janus said, and pulled out his other phone.

…

Virgil had to fight not to shrink in on himself when the door slammed open again.  He braced himself for whatever Francis was going to do this time, because it definitely hadn’t been long enough that he was bringing dinner.

But to his surprise, when he looked over towards the door, he saw someone who wasn’t Francis.  And instead of storming angrily towards him, he moved over and crouched down.  “Hey, are you alright?”

“Who are you?” Virgil asked.

“My name’s Roman.  I’m a friend of Janus.  My brother and I came here to get you out.”

“Where’s Francis?”

“Remus is holding him upstairs.  He or Janus should have called the cops at this point.  Are you hurt?”

Virgil nodded.  “I think my elbow is broken,” he muttered, finally shifting so he wasn’t lying on it anymore.  “And my nose.  And he stabbed me in the arm.”  He lifted the one he meant and winced at the sting when he moved it.  Roman pulled out his phone and shined a flashlight on it, and Virgil squinted his eyes against the sudden light.  After a moment he opened them again and looked around.  It seemed like he was in another basement.

“It doesn’t look like it’s bleeding anymore,” Roman said.  “Did it feel like it was bleeding too badly before?”

“I mean, I don’t think I got lightheaded or anything,” Virgil muttered.

“Okay, I don’t have much of an idea what that means,” Roman said.  “You’re definitely going to need to go to a hospital anyway.  Can you stand?”

“I think so,” Virgil said, taking Roman’s offered hand with his non-broken elbow.  He still ached all over, but he felt like he could walk okay.  He still used the railing to get up the steps.

They both exited the basement into what looked like an old church that thankfully didn’t look old or in danger of collapse, despite looking abandoned.  Francis was unconscious over by the doors and being sat on by someone who looked exactly like Roman, which was more than a little unexpected.

“I guess that’s one way to restrain someone,” Virgil muttered.

The person glanced up and grinned.  “You must be Virgey!  Hi, I’m Remus!  I’ve heard a ton about you.  I hope you don’t mind, I took the liberty of knocking your captor unconscious.”

“And it seems now that the danger is over, so is your capacity for being able to take things seriously,” Roman muttered.

“I’ve been serious for way too long, Ro-bro.  I needed a break.  Hey, Virgey.  If you want to come punch this guy in the face, I’ll tell the cops it was necessary to knock him out.”

Virgil walked over and kicked Francis’ nose, and heard a satisfying crack that sounded similar to his own.  Francis shifted like he was going to wake up, and Virgil kicked him again.

Remus was grinning when he glanced back over.  “I’m gonna like you, aren’t I?” he said.

“Remus, have you called Janus yet?” Roman asked, crossing his arms and seeming very done with his brother’s antics.

“On it!” Remus called, pulling out a phone and hitting a couple buttons before passing the phone to Virgil.  “You want first dibs?”

Virgil winced slightly when moving his left arm, but it was better than trying to grab the phone with his broken elbow.  Roman walked over to talk to Remus, and Virgil moved to sit on one of the pews.  He put the phone up to his ear just as someone who was very distinctly not Janus answered it.  “Hello?”

“Uh, hi?” Virgil said.

“Who is this?” the person who was not Janus asked.

“Uh… who is this?”

“I’m Thomas.  If you’re trying to talk to Janus, he’s on the phone with the police.”

“Oh.  Uh, I’m Virgil.”

“Oh!  You’re the person he was worried about!” Thomas called, and there came a sudden call from Janus in the background.

There were shuffling sounds, and a couple seconds later, Virgil caught the tail end of Janus’ sentence.  “—and once they turn there, it’s like five minutes to the church,” he said.  “Virgil?”  His voice cleared up, and it sounded like he was speaking into the phone now.

“Hey, Janus,” Virgil said, trying not to sound as exhausted as he felt.

“Hey,” Janus said, and Virgil realized that maybe it would be okay, because Janus sounded just as exhausted.  “Are you alright?”

Virgil tried to come up with some way to believably lie for half a second before giving up.  “No.”

Janus let out a shaky breath that Virgil could hear over the phone.  “Yeah,” he said.  “I’m so sorry you got dragged into this, Virgil.  I didn’t mean for— well.  I’m sorry.”

“I wasn’t sure if you’d care,” Virgil said quietly.

There was a moment of dead silence on the other end of the phone.  “What?”

“I don’t know,” Virgil muttered, feeling kind of silly now.  “I mean, it might have partly been how freaked out I was, I just… I don’t know.”

“You thought I wasn’t going to care if you got kidnapped because we had a bad break up?”

“It was like, a really bad break up,” Virgil muttered.

Janus gave a short disbelieving laugh.  “Of course I cared, you moron,” he said, and Virgil took a moment to take in how absolutely wrecked Janus sounded.  He probably really did, huh?

“Oh,” Virgil said, and his voice did not crack there, that would be so stupid.  “Okay.”

“Are you okay?” Janus asked again, and he sounded like he was crying now.

Virgil sniffed.  “Not really,” he said, and then they were both crying, and Virgil pulled his knees up to his chest and cradled the phone with his good arm like it was something precious, and cried with Janus over the phone.

Someone on the other end said something quietly in the background.

“Okay,” Janus said, and Virgil heard him sniff.  “Virgil, the police will be there soon, okay?  They’re bringing an ambulance to take you to the hospital if you need to.”

Virgil nodded, then remembered Janus couldn't see him.  “I do,” he confirmed.  He managed to avoid sniffing again.

Janus didn’t manage the same.  “Alright,” he said.  “Do you want me to stay on the line?”

“Uh-huh,” Virgil said, and so Janus did.  Neither of them said much until Virgil heard more talking coming from over by Roman and Remus, and looked over to see police stopping by Remus and people who looked like emergency services coming over to help him.

Virgil gave them the name of a hospital covered by his insurance, and then followed them towards the ambulance.  He gave Janus the name and address of the hospital they’d be going to, and then Janus said he’d meet him there and hung up.  Virgil gave the phone back to Remus as he passed him.

Someone gave him a shock blanket when they got to the ambulance, and Roman seemed to have followed them over and got in the ambulance with them, which Virgil was grateful for.  He didn’t know Roman that well, but it was better than being there with a bunch of strangers.

“The police shouldn’t have many questions for you, since they have Francis,” Roman said.  “But they might end up having some, is that okay?”

“Not right away,” Virgil said instantly.  “Maybe tomorrow?”

Roman nodded.  “I’ll make sure to let someone know.”

“Thanks,” Virgil said, wincing and gasping in pain as someone started looking at his elbow.

“Sorry,” one of the nurses said.  “I’ll be as careful as I can, okay?”

Virgil nodded at him, and he was more gentle after that.  A different nurse looking at his nose seemed to finish doing so a second later.

“It doesn’t need to be reset,” she said.  “It’s just going to have to heal overtime, okay?”

Virgil nodded.

Someone must have finished something they needed too, because the doors were shut and they started pulling away.  Roman texted Remus to let him know where they were, and then they headed towards the hospital.

Virgil wasn’t injured in any way that they’d need to keep him overnight for, so by the time Janus arrived, apparently having been driven by Thomas, they were mostly done with everything that needed to happen.

That didn’t mean that Virgil wasn’t grateful to see him, though.  Janus crossed the room and started anxiously looking him over as if Virgil didn’t have several nurses and a doctor already doing that.

Virgil’s right elbow was now in a sling, his left arm was bandaged and someone had put tape on his nose for what felt like no real reason, but was definitely super important or something.  It wasn’t long after Janus and someone who must have been Thomas came in that Virgil was done being looked over and given the freedom to go, and Janus instantly moved in where they’d been.

“Hey,” he said, raising his hands up to about the height of Virgil’s shoulders and looking like he wanted nothing more than to hold him close.  Luckily for him, Virgil wanted something similar, and stepped into Janus’ open arms.

Janus gave a sigh of relief and wrapped his arms gently around him, being mindful of both of his arms.

“Hey,” Virgil said back.  “How’ve you been?”

Janus laughed, sounding bitter and maybe a little hysterical.  “How do you think, you moron?”

“Mmm,” Virgil mumbled, laying his head on Janus’ shoulder and breathing in a smell that wasn’t hospital sterilization.  “Drive me home?”

“Of course,” Janus murmured back.

“Nope, I’m driving you both home,” said a new voice, and Virgil glanced over to see this Thomas person.  “You both look like a mess.”

“Ugh, fine,” Janus groaned.  “Virgil, if I may introduce you to the world’s most persistent neighbor.”

“We’ve had like two conversations!” Thomas exclaimed, and Virgil laughed a little, which felt good.

He headed down towards Thomas’ car, and said goodbye to Roman and Remus, who’d followed the ambulance, at the door.  He got the phone numbers of both of them scribbled on a piece of paper in case he wanted to talk.  Virgil wasn’t opposed to the idea.  They both seemed cool.

He climbed into the backseat and used his slightly-less-fucked-up arm to pull Janus in after him, ignoring the pain shooting through it, because he wanted to be hugged the whole way back and Janus was just as good at them as he remembered.

Virgil wrote his address on the phone number paper and handed it to Thomas so he could drive him home, and they ended up at the apartment building much quicker than Virgil would have liked.

“Here,” Thomas said, adding his own phone number to the paper.  “You can call me if you ever want some chicken noodle soup.”

Virgil didn’t really understand, but he smiled weakly anyway.  “Thanks.”  He regretfully pulled himself out of Janus’ arms and shoved the paper in his pocket, then stepped out of the car.

He looked up at the building.  He’d have to go all the way up to his apartment alone.

“Here,” Janus said suddenly, hopping out after him.  “Let me walk you in.”

Virgil’s chest loosened at the thought.  “Okay,” he said quietly, and led them both inside.  They made it up to the third floor, and Virgil headed down towards apartment 3C, Janus following him.

He half expected the apartment to be a mess when he walked in, but everything was exactly how he’d left it, down to the car keys on the door and the dirty dishes in the sink.

He made it to his kitchen table before collapsing into one of the chairs.  Janus hesitantly stopped at the one across from him before Virgil made some vague gesture that he hoped Janus would take as ‘sit down.’  He did.

“Holy fuck,” Virgil said, burying his head in his hands.  Or, hand.  One of them was still in a sling due to his broken elbow.

“Yeah,” Janus agreed quietly.

“What did you do?” Virgil asked.  “How did you find me?”

Janus explained how he knew Remus and Roman, and how Remus had the same tracking abilities he did, but that he couldn’t use due to Francis watching him.  Virgil listened and nodded along, with a question forming as he did so.

“Janus,” he said when he finished.  “That makes it sound like the reason Francis went after me is because you haven’t made any friends since we broke up.”

“Hey, I have friends!  I have… Thomas.”

“The Thomas who earlier said that you’ve had two conversations?”

“Shut up.”

Virgil raised an eyebrow.  “Janus, seriously?  You haven’t made any friends in literal years?”

“Yes, because clearly that would be such a great idea, given everything that just happened,” Janus said, rolling his eyes.

“Oh, hell no.  You are not using this as another excuse to isolate yourself.”

“Fine.  I have plenty of other excuses.”

“Janus.”

Janus didn’t say anything.  Fine.  Virgil could play the long game.  It’s not like he was about to let Janus slide effortlessly out of his life again.

“Well, you probably want some rest,” Janus said after another moment, standing.  And to Virgil’s surprise, he didn’t have to fake the spike of panic that hit him in the slightest.

“Janus!” he exclaimed, desperately, using his slightly-less-fucked-up arm to push himself up.  He winced and sat back down, realizing he still probably shouldn’t have done that.  Janus looked back at him, making half of a movement to come closer but not going through with it.

Virgil swallowed.  “Stay?” he said quietly.  He looked away.  “Please.”

After a pause, he saw Janus sit back down out of the corner of his eye.  “Alright,” he said.  “Let me text Thomas.”

Virgil nodded, and sat back down too.  He was quiet until Janus set his phone aside and looked back at him again.  “Do you want me to make you something to eat?” he asked.

“I can do it,” Virgil said instantly, before looking down at his arms and realizing that no, he probably couldn’t.

“I’ll make you some grilled cheese,” Janus said.  “Sound good?”

“Yeah, okay,” Virgil muttered.  “I think I’m gonna go, like.  Shower.  And get changed.”

“Okay.  I’ll try to have it done by the time you get back out here.”

“Thanks,” Virgil said, and he headed back towards his bedroom.

…

Janus didn’t go home the next day.  Turns out having one badly broken elbow and one arm that had been stabbed and hurt a little every time you moved it made it kind of hard to do things yourself.  Virgil kind of despised the idea of needing help at all, but… it was Janus.  So it wasn’t so bad.

Janus went with him to talk to the police the next day, and Roman and Remus showed up too, since they’d been the ones to get him out.  All four of them were questioned, and Virgil didn’t love learning the fact that Francis was an actual serial killer.  He did enjoy learning that he was behind bars for now and was almost certainly going to end up in jail after his trial too.

They all went out to eat after that just to bring a positive end to the day, and Thomas met up with them there.  All in all, it could have been worse.  Virgil was not looking forward to the trial, but everyone had already told him they would be there to help.

A week passed, and Janus was still at his house.  They settled into a routine, of Janus kind of helping Virgil manage to exist again, and Virgil begrudgingly accepting that help.  The nightmares didn’t really surprise him.  Janus started sleeping in his bed with him after the first two nights, not that either of them were going to mention that.  His left arm healed fairly quickly, since his wound was shallow and had stopped bleeding even without any kind of effort on his part.  That meant that after a couple days, he could do most one-handed tasks without pain.  It would take a while before he could do two handed tasks again.

Virgil hadn’t exactly forgotten about Patton and Logan, but he’d had other things on his mind, and they were out of cell service anyway, meaning they ended up going on a back burner as Virgil tried to figure everything else out.  On the day when they were supposed to come back, and his phone lit up with Patton’s name, Virgil instantly grabbed Janus’ hand and squeezed from where they were watching a movie together on the couch.

Janus squeezed back as Virgil answered the phone.

“Hey, Virge!” Patton called brightly.  “We just got back into cell service, finally.  How did your two weeks of being alone and watching horror movies go?”

Virgil winced.  “Uh, yeah,” he said shakily.  “Fun story, Pat.”

“What’s a fun story?  Are you alright, Virgil?  You sound kind of shaken up.”

“Can you… can you just come here, Patton?  You and Logan?  I need to tell you guys something.”

“Oh, right now?  We were kind of looking forward to getting home, kiddo—”

“Please.”

Patton must have picked up on the tone of his voice, because he didn’t say anything for a minute.  “Okay,” he said quietly.  “Are you okay, Virgil?”

“I’m… not really.  No.”

“Oh, goodness.  We’ll be right there, kiddo.”

“Okay,” Virgil said, and hung up before he started crying or something stupid like that.

Janus squeezed his hand again, and Virgil turned and tucked himself under his arm.  Janus wrapped his arm gently around his shoulder, and they both sat in silence for a long moment.

“Want to talk?” Janus said quietly.

Virgil shook his head.  “Patton and Logan are coming over.  Friends.  They were camping.”

“Okay.”

Patton and Logan got there a couple hours later, and both were immediately concerned when they noticed Virgil’s injuries.

Their concern did not lessen when Virgil told them what had happened.  When he finished, Patton instantly moved to hug him, and Logan climbed up and laid a hand on Virgil’s shoulder, which was basically a bear hug coming from Logan.

“Oh, Virgil,” Patton whispered, squeezing Virgil gently.  “Oh kiddo, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry that happened.”

Virgil squeezed him back as tightly as he could manage with one arm.

“Likewise,” Logan said, and Virgil could hear the emotion just under his voice.  “Please… please let us know if there’s anything we can do to help.”

Virgil nodded, and Janus shifted away slightly so Logan could sit down next to him.  Virgil pulled Logan a little closer, and the three of them ended up curled into a pile together on the couch, and not moving for a long while.  By the end of it at least, he felt a little better.

…

Janus liked to think he was pretty good at pulling away from people at this point.  He was the one who’d made the final call to leave Virgil, and packed up his things and said that was that.  He’d told Remus that friendship wasn’t something that he did, he’d shot down anyone who tried to thank him for his services after they were done.  Pulling away from Virgil the second time and bringing this all full circle had to be about the easiest thing to do.

So when Patton and Logan started helping Virgil out more, and staying nights sometimes, Janus started making his visits to Virgil fewer and farther between.  It didn’t matter how much it hurt.  He was not going to endanger Virgil a second time.

What he didn’t expect was for Virgil to catch on.  Janus was very good at being subtle, he expected that to work with Virgil too.

On the last time he planned to stop by Virgil’s, he brought with him some of Thomas’ chicken noodle soup, since Virgil seemed to like it and Thomas was working that day and couldn’t come by himself.

But the second he opened the door, Virgil grabbed him by the arm and pulled him over to the couch, barely giving Janus time to stop and put the soup on the table.

Virgil sat them both down on the couch and looked him square in the eye.

“So,” Virgil said, as Janus was trying to get his bearings.  “This is not happening.”

Janus blinked, and raised an eyebrow.  “What’s not happening?”

“This.  You’re pulling away from everyone again.  You are not going to isolate yourself because you feel guilty, or worried, or whatever.”

“That’s not what I’m doing,” Janus said, trying to hide the shock he felt at Virgil just coming out and saying it.  He hadn’t even realized Virgil had noticed.

“Don’t bullshit me.  That’s exactly what you’re doing.  You’re pulling away from me, and Remus and Thomas too, by the way.”

“I’m not—” Janus started.

“Don’t bullshit me, Janus.”

Janus glared away.  “I’m not going to endanger you all again.  Look at what happened last time.”

“Oh, boo-hoo.  So you got me kidnapped.  Big deal.”

Janus gaped at him.  “It is a big— Virgil, you still have a broken elbow.  You have nightmares that aren’t going to go away for a long time.  You’re going to have to process this.  It is a big deal.”

Virgil looked away, and Janus knew he was right.  “Yeah, okay, fine.  It’s a big deal.  But you can’t isolate yourself because someone you care about got hurt.”

“Why not?”

“Because I won’t let you, moron.”

Janus scowled.  “That’s not your decision.”

“The fuck it isn’t!  I’m the one who got kidnapped!”

“You don’t need me, Virgil.  You have Patton and Logan to help with household stuff—”

“Yeah, but they don’t know how I like my clothes organized.”

“And they can stay here and help with your nightmares—”

“They’re easier to keep away when you’re here.”

“And Roman and Remus can help you deal with everything that happened with Francis—”

“They don’t give hugs like you do.”

“And Thomas can make you the chicken noodle soup you like.”

“That’s the only thing he knows how to cook.”

“You don’t need me specifically.”

“I want you though.”

Janus didn’t have a retort to that.  Virgil seemed to get that he wouldn’t, because he just continued to look at him for a while like he was waiting.

“…Why?” Janus said finally.

Then, it was Virgil’s turn to be awkward.  He looked down and fiddled with the strings of his hoodie.  “I’m sorry I said I hate you, you know.”

“What?”

“Back then.  I’m sorry I said it.  I didn’t really mean it.”

“I… I didn’t either,” Janus said.  “But what are you—”

Virgil leaned up and kissed him.

Janus started in surprise, enough that their lips disconnected, but before Virgil could apologize or start regretting that, Janus reached for his shoulders, being careful with his right, and pulled him back in.  He felt Virgil smile into the kiss, and wrap his good arm around Janus’ back, pulling him closer in and moving his broken elbow out of the way.

After another moment, Virgil pulled away again and looked up at Janus.  “Stay?” he whispered.  “Please?  I want you to stay.”

Well.  Janus would have to be a monster to say no to that.

“Alright,” he whispered, and Virgil smiled and pulled him back in.

They’d have a talk about things later, about a way to make it work this time, about Janus needing to talk to Remus and Thomas, and stop avoiding friendships with Roman, Patton, and Logan.  About whether or not Janus was going to keep staying in Virgil’s apartment, only to keep away the nightmares of course.

But for now, Janus relished in the feeling of having Virgil here with him again, of him being safe, and wanting him to stay.

He decided that this time, he just might.

[into-crazy]

horror and chill

Ledger!Joker x Female Reader one shot

Summary: You and J watch a horror flick. Eventually you both grow bored, turning your attention onto one another. You don't make it through the movie.

Warnings- Cursing, NSFW, SMUT, fingering, edging, orgasm denial, light knife play, spanking, use of the word daddy(once), unprotected sex, brief degradation, choking, light blood play, J style fluff, ages 18+

This sort of popped into my head while I was watching a scary movie. I'm a sucker for watching horror movies in the dark. Let's just say my self indulgences deff kicked in with this one whew! Also forewarning, it’s very long.

The month of October has always been a favorite for you. That time of the year when Autumn is in full effect. The air outside is cooled down, where it's not too hot and not quite cold yet. Seasonal items return with a comeback, available to stock up on- whether they be edible goodies or scented candles. Then, of course, there's Halloween. Or spooky season, as the kids like to call it.

That special time where watching horror movies is an absolute must. Ordering takeout, nothing on but panties and an oversized tee, cuddling on the couch with a blanket, turning out all of the lights, and blasting the volume on the television to get the full effect. Yeah, it's one of your most prized traditions.

You and Joker have been together for well over year now. Let's just say he was around this time last year. He knew of your passion for this month, but he hasn't fully experienced it with you. Since that was a point where your relationship- if that's what you want to call it- was still fresh. Too early to establish complete trust and understanding in one another. Actually, you believe that still may be the case for J.

Not that you have anything against it. He's a highly complex and guarded man, he has a difficult time trusting people. In fact, he doesn't. But he's allowed you- and no one else- to come this close into his life, and it's pretty damn close. He trusts you enough and he's trying. There's nothing you'd ever do to betray that. You've come to accept it'll take a longer period before you'd get there fully.

Though it can be rough sometimes, you've had your fair share of fights. But he's never given you a reason to leave. You trust him, you've grown to love him. And while J would never confess to it, would never say it aloud, he adores you. He shows it in everything that he does for you. As for love, you've become aware and accepted that the word doesn't apply to him. He can't love. And that's okay.

Fast forward over to now, already a week into October. It's a Saturday night, and you're ready to continue your cherished routine, but with your beloved J. You've only watched two horror flicks thus far. Both nights had been alone, minus him and the takeout. He's been busy with his usual chaotic jobs, which kept him out later hours into the night. However you don't care about that right now, he called and informed you that he'll be home for tonight's showing.

"An' don't ah, don't ya dare start without me." J warned on the other end of the phone line.

"Well then you better hurry back," you playfully teased into the phone, "I already ordered the pizza and the movie is set to play."

That conversation ended about forty minutes ago. You sat on the couch in your shared apartment, waiting for him. Everything good to go, pizza has arrived, scented candles are lit, movie ready to proceed at the click of a button, and the lights are off- save for the small lamp by the entryway. The overall setting feeling eerily, just how you like it. It also feels quite romantic, which is a bonus.

You're wearing one of J's dress shirts with a blush thong underneath. Wrapped snug in a huge fluffy blanket in your designated spot(rightfully decided by you as this was your apartment first). Since he prefers to keep the apartment cold, you tend to get chilly a lot. Which was fine considering you have J and a vast selection of blankets to keep you warm. Currently, you have the blanket. All that's missing is J.

What's taking him so long? I'm gonna start the movie, I don't care. He'll just have to deal with it.. and I'm not rewinding it either.

You began to ponder while sitting in silence. Fingers tapping impatiently on the remote, debating whether or not you should carry on without him. With a loud huff, you glance over at the pizza box on the small table directly in front of you. In the amount of time you've waited, you managed to eat two slices already.

Then, you heard the familiar ruffling noise at the front door. The sound of the lock hurriedly being turned getting you to shoot your eyes towards it without moving your head. The door swings open and in walks J in all his glory, quickly shutting and locking the closure behind him.

"I'm home-ah!" A lilt in his voice as he exaggerates his arrival.

"You're late," you return displeasingly.

He narrows his glare at you, "well uh, hello to you too."

Rolling your eyes, you motion with your fingers, "I was this close to starting the movie without you. What took you so long?"

J works on shrugging off his plum trench coat. "What can I say? It was such a ah, easy breeze to get here." He throws sarcastically.

Shaking your head, you laugh, "I'm sorry J, I didn't mean to sound rude. I just missed you is all." You really do appreciate the extra efforts he goes through to make sure he gets here safe and undetected. To not be traced or followed. Be it by his fellow rivals, Gotham police, and in some cases- the Batman.

"Yeah doll, I know," he licks his lips, "I know." You watch him remove a few of his other articles to get more comfortable. His face paint isn't too disheveled which tells you his day went rather smoothly. Or as he prefers to call it- boring.

You open up the blanket to make space for him. Patting the empty spot right next to you, "hurry and get over here, pizza's getting cold."

Left in his purple slacks, dress shirt, and socks, he shuts off the last light before making his way over to plop onto the couch next to you. He allows you to snuggle against him. With the cover behind him, he doesn't feel the need to wrap himself in it. You, on the other hand, have your end burrito wrapped over you. Finally, you stick your hand out the blanket to hit play on the remote.

Twenty minutes in, you were beginning to grow less and less interested in the film. Nothing but a predictable storyline with a bunch of weak jump scares. Not to mention the overly cheesy acting. Though it wasn't completely terrible, it had a few good points to it. However this film probably won't make it onto your rewatch list. You failed to previously read the reviews for this one like you normally would when picking a new movie to watch. The plot sounded good when you had read it. Oh well, you gave it a shot.

J wasn't fond of the movie either. He's actually more bored of it than you are. Occasionally would he exhale blatantly or comment on one of the bad moments that came across. This. Is. Torture. He thought to himself staring blankly at the screen. And not the good kind. Alas, he'll bite his tongue and miserably sit through another hour because it is your movie night, and he knows how much this means to you.

You can't help but feel bad for having him sit through this with you- for you. Soon, you lost total interest in the film and your mind began to drift.. elsewhere. To his hand, resting freely between your soft thighs. His palm feels so warm against your flesh. But that's just J- always giving off heat. He's like your own personal heater. Sometimes warming you to the point you don't even need a blanket because it becomes too hot. Speaking of which, you removed the cover, preferring his signature warmth over the fabric's any day.

Your fingers start to brush lightly on his wrists and knuckles. The subtle touch earns you half smile followed with a pleased hum, which you see in your peripheral vision. He hasn't caught on yet, but your need for him is building fast.

You scooch closer to him in attempt to get his hand where you need it most without him catching on just yet. It didn't work, his hand isn't touching you. It's right there, mere millimeters away. Thinking about how amazing his hands feel when he touches you. When he grants you with friction as he rubs your throbbing clit. The wonderful spots he reaches when he relentlessly fucks you with those paint speckled fingers. Curling them deep, making you writhe and cry beneath him.

Clamping his wrist, your breath hitches at the thought. Shit. That was audible. For a split second, you thought you might have blown it. But Joker took it as something from the film frightening you.

"Quiet doll," he shushes, "you an' I both know the ah, movie ain't scary."

Fuck, you can't take it anymore. You want him to touch you. With a slight roll of your hips, you manage to get his hand to brush against your clothed heat. The smallest bit of friction causes you to release a muffled whimper.

J's arm stiffens and his face instantly snaps to look at you. You seize, halting your movement. No question, he felt what you did, sees the burning desperation in your eyes. Tossing his head back, he erupts in a delighted, high pitched cackle. "Oh-" more cackling laughter as he glances at you again, "so that's what that was." A malicious smirk spreads his scarred cheeks. He firmly grips the inside of your thigh, pulling you against him. "What happened bunny? Growin' needy?" Cupping your clothed mound, his fingers rub you teasingly.

"Yeah," you admit, taking your bottom lip between your teeth. Tightening your thighs around his wrist. Would've been no use lying to him when he'd easily seen and felt otherwise.

His rubbing comes to an abrupt stop. He taunts, "Ahh, this was your idea, hm. You were the one keen on a movie night, remember?"

"I know, but-"

"Ah-ta-ta," He cuts you off, "But nothing. This is what ya wanted, so that's what we'll do. We'll ah, sit here and watch."

Suddenly, he lifts you, effortlessly moving you into his lap. You yelp as your back is pressed flush against his torso. He separates your legs apart, you can feel his cock beginning to harden under you, pushing into the plush of your ass. One hand wraps around your chest, to roughly knead your breasts. The other slides under the shirt, gliding over your abdomen, down between your legs. To rub harsh circles on your excited clit through the thinly soaked fabric of your underwear.

"Ahh- fuck!" You whine, throwing your head back to rest on his shoulder, reaching around to grip his green locks.

J starts to kiss and nip his way down your neck. Leaving dark patches into your skin, accompanied by red and white splotches- completely marking you. Once he was satisfied with his marks, he leans closely by your ear. "You're dripping, doll," he whispers huskily, his hot breath brushing against your neck. "Now, you will sit here and watch the flick like a good girl, while I play with this needy little cunt of yours. No fussin' or fightin'. Got it?"

"Mhm, yes sir," you answer. Biting back the urge to smile at the thought of finally getting what you want. Fighting it off because, let's be real here, you know with J, it never comes along that easy. But he always makes it damn well worth it.

"Good, now sit still." He growls lowly onto your neck. With that, he pushed your panties to the side and began his torture. His fingers transitioning from fucking your aching hole to rubbing the drenched digits on your throbbing clit. Whispering twistingly sweet and dirty words into your ear while he slathers your own arousal all over your pussy.

He'd bring you close, on the verge of your orgasm, only to stop his movements entirely. Tearing it away from you before you could fall over that edge into pure ecstasy. You grew more and more frustrated each time he'd do that. Though you haven't fully, but you're rapidly losing your composure. Which already may be broken. Sweat is forming on your hairline, tears are prickling your eyes, your breath is starting to hitch. Starting to want it so bad you're teetering towards retaliating to get what you crave.

Joker's counting on it. He thrives on edging you, demands the control over you. As much as he prefers having you entirely at his mercy, he likes it when you lash back. Finds it rather amusing, makes for something a little bit more interesting. See how far you'll go before you snap so beautifully.

And that's now.

You start to buck your hips against his fingers that are going in and out of your pussy, along with his thumb assaulting your clit. Feeling that powerful knot reforming, you need to orgasm. "Oh f-fuck! Please!" You start pleading, "I-I can't take it anymore. Please J, l-let me cum!"

"You wanna cum?" He hints, removing his chin from your neck.

"Yes, God- yes please!" You cry out, clawing your nails into his thighs. Clamping down to gain better leverage. The wild rolling of your hips gets your ass brushing more against his hardened cock. Your arousal had already soaked through his pants a long time ago.

"Fuck," he hisses through gritted teeth, digging his fingers hard into your hip that's sure to leave an array of dotted bruises. He bucks absently into you, licking a wet, hot trail up your neck. "Mm, dirty girl. So you wanna play that game-ah?"

He moves his fingers faster and harder. Even over the loud volume from the television could the wet squelching sounds deriving from his ministrations be heard. The air filled with the scent of sex- your sex. So desperate and ready to let go and orgasm. It's driving you crazy.

"P-please- Ahh! Can I cum?" You plead. Hoping he'll reward you at least for asking.

"You can cum. Go on, babygirl. Cum on my fingers." He finally grants, fingers continuing to get you to ecstasy.

Well you didn't have to be told twice.

You release with a broken cry, orgasm gushing out onto his digits. Drenching the fabric of his pants beneath you. Your body spasming madly over his own while you ride out your high.

Coming down, J removed his hand from your pussy. His fingers are glistening, coated in your cum. He sticks them into your mouth. "Clean my fingers of the mess you made," he growls the command in your ear. Groaning in approval when you comply. Eagerly licking and sucking his digits clean of your juices. "Come here," he grabs your face, turning your head, making you look at him. "Give me a taste."

He kisses you, shoving his tongue into your mouth to savor the taste of your delectable juices. You kiss him back feverishly. One hand fisting in his hair, the other goes to stroke his cock. Still clothed, still hard. The action causing him to snarl against your lips, "such a greedy little thing. Always ah, wanting more. Ya just can't get enough of me, huh?"

"Never," you huff with a grin, "and telling by this-" you rub him again, "neither could you." His eyes snap to glare into yours viciously. Ohh, he's gonna make you pay for that snarky remark.

With hasty movements, J turns you around so that you're now facing him. Straddling his lap. He tears the shirt that adorned your body open, buttons flying to scatter the couch and floor. Someone's gonna have to sew those back on later, most likely you. He removes the shirt from you, carelessly tossing it aside.

With the large article gone, it granted him with a better view of the mess you made on his custom, pricey slacks. His entire crotch and thigh area is completely drenched in your juices. He gave a sigh which tried to make him sound annoyed or displeased. However, with the straining bulge pushing against you below, you know that was far from the case. His eyes traveled to land on your barley covered pussy, he groaned at the sight. The flimsy fabric of your thong sticking to one of your wonderful, wet lips. Your orgasm, still dribbling out your cunt.

He hooked a finger under the thin strap hugging your hip, pulling far enough only to have it fall and snap against you. Chuckling at your slightly startled reaction. "Bad girl. Misbehaving, talking back, making a mess of my pants? These aren't exactly 'buy at the store' ready. Maybe I should put your dirty mouth to use and have you suck your own juices up, hm?"

"I misbehaved?" You mock a pout, fully knowing what you did. Regardless, asking anyway.

His kneads the plush of your ass roughly. The callousness of his hands making you shiver in his grasp. You may think this position is in your favor, that you could use it to your advantage. But Joker's got you right where he wants you. The stern look in his blackened eyes and the firm hold he's got on you make that known. "You ah- were supposed to make it through the film without so much as a fuss. Remember that?"

"I was?" Your fingers ghost up his chest, "I don't remember that part." Now you're pushing it. He notices the smile threatening to creep your face. One of his hands shoots up to grasp a fistful of your hair, yanking your head back, exposing your marked neck.

"Yes," he acknowledges slowly trailing his lips up your throat, "yes you do. You just chose to be a brat and not listen." His tone is dangerous, and it would've been absolutely frightening had you been anyone else instead of the only person he cares about in his life. Even though he'd never verbally admit that, frustrating as it is for him, he does care. He does. Which is why whenever you feel that tingle dubbed as fear creep up your spine, you still hold assurance. The flesh of his scars brush the underside of your chin, making you moan unabashedly. "Ya know I gotta punish you for that."

J uses his hold on your hair and hip to guide you to lay over his lap, your naked stomach pressed against his wet thighs, and most of all, his erection. He reaches over to the small table beside the couch, plucking an item you assume to be one of his signature knives. The distinct clicking sound indicates you were correct. It's a switchblade.

He drags the razor sharp blade along your spine until it reaches your underwear, almost on the verge of slicing into you. The thrill gets your heart pounding faster in your chest and ears. You love it when he cuts you, and he's aware of that. But this is a punishment, so you won't be getting what you want.. least not yet. Placing it under the strap, he tears the article to shreds, carelessly nicking you a few times in the process. Alright, so the little nicks he can't control. Those just come naturally. Tossing the ruined fabric aside, he palms your ass cheeks, favoring a spot to start spanking. "Count. We'll ah, stop when I decide you've had enough."

His palm came down hard against your ass, sending an electrifying jolt through your entire body causing you to yelp. "One!" You count. The stinging grew worse with each spank. He hit you hard, but it wasn't anything you couldn't bare. Warm tears steamed down your reddened cheeks. It hurt in a wonderful way, your pussy leaking more arousal as it progressed. He continued to spank you until he grew bored of hearing the same cries and whines.

"Last one bunny," he subtly praised, soothing over the bright marks in your flesh that are starting to welt and bruise. With that, his hand came down a final time. This one stinging the worst.

"Fif- fifteen." You manage to rasp, mind overcome with the lust you had building up. At this point you need him inside you. You need his cock buried deep in your aching core and you need him now. "Please f-fuck me J. I need you!" Your body arched into his as you begged.

J snickered, "need me huh? How bad?" His hand went back to your abused ass to shove you forward, so that your pelvis was atop his as he purposely rolled his erection against your painfully heated sex. The friction drawing a long, strained moan from your lips which pleased him. "Tell me bunny. How, how bad do ya need my cock?"

"Bad- oh so fucking bad- I need your cock! P-Please J, please daddy, fuck me!" You practically shout, resorting to the word daddy. A word which you hardly use, but do when need be. And now was a time of great need.

A snarl left his lips as he yanks you off briefly to undo his pants and shove them down. His cock finally free from the uncomfortable confines, he sighs with relief as he takes it into his hand, pumping a few times. The tip, red and angry with his precum beading out. "Get over here now," he growls impatiently.

Wasting no time, you swing your leg over both of his, reclaiming your previous place of straddling him. You grabbed-rather pawed- his shoulders for leverage. His thick head lines up with your dripping entrance, then he pulls you down, driving his length inside with a powerful thrust. Knocking the wind from you as he filled you. Fuck, how he stretched you so good.

After a brief second for you both to adjust- you to his size and him to recompose himself- he instructs you to- "Move."

To which you do. Rapidly bouncing yourself up and down on his cock. Unashamed at the loud moans and whimpers continuously leaving your lips. This was exactly what you needed, and having been denied lots tonight it felt amazing to finally have this. You moved like your life depended on it.

J grunted as he met your thrusts with his languid ones, his hands guiding the movement of your hips. He held back from pounding into you, oh how he's going to pound into you, just not yet. Which means he's definitely in the mood to tease you to an extent, in any and every way that he can. What an asshole.. Your asshole.

Your arms went to wrap around him. To your surprise, he didn't shove them off. Instead, his chin went to rest in the crook of your neck, catching glimpse of the illuminated TV screen. The movie was still on.

"Mhm, you're just a horny little slut, aren't ya?" He sneered. "Can't even get through a movie without having my cock inside of ya."

There was no way you could give him a proper response. So wrapped were you in the exhilarating feeling of him that any words to a sentence you tried to form wouldn't come out. What did manage to slip out was muddled babbling. He snickered at your incoherence.

The female protagonist on the screen started to scream. The shrieking noise caught both your attention, though your actions didn't falter. "This woman's a terrible actor," J criticized the lady, "her scream is so fake, wouldn't you agree?"

"Yes- ah," you return finding your voice, "It s-sure is."

He removed one hand from your hip, gliding it up the valley between your breasts to grip your neck. Glaring menacingly into your eyes momentarily before muttering, "I think you could give me a better one." You knew from his low tone that something malicious just popped into his head. His fingers tightened, "Let's see if you could scream louder than the girl on the screen. Can ya do that for me sweets?"

You nodded feverishly within his hold, "yes J."

Satisfied with the answer, he began driving his cock vigorously up into you. The harsh slapping of skin heard as his hips pound mercilessly against your own. The spontaneous change of pace left you almost completely breathless. Your orgasm was fast approaching. Eyes squeezing shut as he fucked you relentlessly. You screamed, "Oh fuck!"

Your beautiful screams rang harmoniously in his ears like a favored tune. That he could play on repeat over and over and never grow tired of hearing. Your screams and moans are definitely his favorite sounds, aside from explosions and gunfire. He can't help but want more. Crave more.

"Come on doll, get louder," he teases, "I know ya could do better than that." He went to tug your head to the side, exposing the junction between your neck and shoulder. Sinking his yellowed teeth in, biting down hard to draw blood. That was just the push you needed. Your eyes roll back and your walls clench tightly around his length, releasing a shattering scream as you cum violently around his cock.

J lapped the fresh blood from where he bit you. "Hm, that's it," he groaned, "now that's a real scream." He kept going, his pace never letting up. In fact, soon as your hands went to tug at his hair did his thrusts speed up.

You yank his head from your neck to look into his intoxicating eyes, moving to glance towards your blood on his lips. Crashing them with yours to taste that savory metallic flavor for yourself. You take his bottom lip between your teeth and bite down harshly, earning a rumbling groan from him.

He's getting closer and closer to his own peak as you're nearing another. When you feel his thumb move to rub rigorous circles on your sensitive clit, you release his lip with a sharp cry. "J!"

Your walls clamping painfully tight around his throbbing dick, vision blurring as you cum. Nails digging into his broad chest, probably creating tiny bruises under the shirt.

He relishes in the pinch of pain you give him. Combined together with your sinful noises, the sight of your face contorted in ecstasy, and the feeling of your tight warm walls. With that, he buries himself in you and cums hard. A moan mixed with a groan like noise slipping from his lips while he shoots his hot load into your cervix. So much, that some leaks out while you milk him of every last drop.

J collects his breath before lifting your weight up to slip out of you. Your pussy lips are so swollen that his cum isn't even able to drip down once he's out. He sets you onto the couch beside him, getting up to go into the restroom to clean himself and grab a damp rag to bring back to you.

As you regain yourself, you manage to sit a little more up on the couch. Wincing, trying not to sit up all the way due to the soreness already starting to form between your legs. You wrap the blanket around your naked form and silently contemplate. The sex was amazing sure, but you still felt bad for ruining movie night with a terrible movie.

The sound of J coming back in hadn't even registered with you until he waved his hand in your view, tearing you from your thoughts. You blink quickly, offering him a smile to hide it. But J had already seen the small frown when he walked back. And he wanted to know the reason behind it, since it was out of the ordinary. Usually you're always smiling in your post orgasmic state.

"What's carving a frown in ya, pumpkin?" He asks, a hint of concern in his tone as he hands you the small towel. The strange nickname causes you to giggle and he eases knowing you're alright.

"It's nothing J," you say shyly, "I'm just.. I'm sorry the movie sucked. I promise I'll pick a better one next time."

He hums, saying nothing else as he sits back down beside you. Draping his arm behind the couch behind you. Blankly watching the last of the movies end credits while you clean yourself with the rag.

You start to laugh again, "Well, now I really wanna carve a pumpkin. This place could use a couple. How about tomorrow I get some for us to carve?"

He grins sinisterly, "ya know, I'm usually carving into people."

"Pumpkins are less messy. Like, way less." You playfully respond.

"I like messy," he huffs.

"Yeah I know you do." You smile knowingly at him, lightly tracing the hexagonal patterns on his shirt. "I thought it would be fun. You don't have to if you don't want to."

J licks his scars as he ponders on it. Any activity having to do with a carving into something with a knife, count him in. "Ah, what the hell. Alright. What better way then to uh, help me spruce up on my slicing skills." He traces his hand out in front of him, as if he were carving a smile into something. This action causes you to release a genuine laugh. And in that moment, J relishes in hearing yet another one of his favorite sounds~

Woah, so that's the end! I hope you guys liked it. Again, sorry that it was so long. I can't help but make these super lengthy when it comes to smut😭

[talatomaz]

fear | paige dineen x fem!teen!reader

a/n: i’ve been rewatching Scorpion lately and couldn’t get this idea out of my head. this is based around 3x17. it’s a criminally underrated show and so original. also this is the first fic i’ve written in months so, sorry if it’s shit /lh

warnings: mentions of death/coma

word count: 3.1k

masterlist | navigation | request rules

reader is paige’s 18 year old daughter and sometimes helps out team scorpion but when she inadvertently inhales poisonous fumes, she soon finds herself on the brink of death, hallucinating her deepest darkest fear

i do not give you permission to repost or translate my fics on any platform - likes/reblogs are okay and are much appreciated

“Here.”

You said, placing a George Washington style hat on your younger brother’s head.

“Did you know that these are called tricorns and were referred to as-“

“Cocked hats? Yes, and they were worn not only by the aristocracy, but also as common civilian dress, and as part of military uniforms.”

You explained, interrupting Ralph as he stopped adjusting the hat and looked up at you with surprise.

“I was a history major, remember? You’re not the only one who knows things.” You joked, smiling when he did.

“So why am I wearing this tricorn?” Your genius brother asked.

“Well, you’ve got a history project due about Washington and what better way to understand his actions than by getting into his persona and pretending to be him?”

“You’ve been spending too much time around Toby.” Ralph smirked.

“Hey!”

You and your brother turned to face Happy and Toby who had just entered the garage.

“I’ll have you know that I’m a world-class behaviourist.”

“Shut it, doc.” Happy said, but there was no malice in her words.

“Where’s everyone?”

“Mum and Walter went out somewhere and Cabe’s with Allie at Sly’s desk because Sly’s asleep and drooling over himself.”

“Ew.” You said, replying to your brother.

As Happy and Toby left to find Cabe, you and Ralph continued discussing George Washington. You were both interrupted when you heard your mother’s voice.

“Morning!”

Yours and Ralph’s faces lit up when you saw she was holding a bag from Fro-Yo-Ma. Ever since Walter had got himself banned after a petty argument with the manager about a loyalty card which resulted in him having a black eye, you had all been unable to attend the establishment.

You smiled when an idea formed in your head and faced your brother once more,

“Hey, how about we sneak up to Mum whilst she’s distracted and grab our fro-yos?”

Ralph nodded in agreement and you both cautiously approached your mum who was busy telling the team that the frozen treats were for after lunch. As you both flanked your mother, you glanced over at Ralph and gave him a slight nod. Then you grabbed a tub each and began to sneak away as quietly as you came but your Mum looked at you both in confusion.

“Quick. Run, Ralph.”

Ignoring your mother’s laugh, you took a hold of Ralph’s free hand and ran back to the corner of garage you were studying in.

“I got to stop leaving them with you people.” Paige said.

Halfway through eating the frozen yogurt, you heard Cabe announce that Scorpion had a case.

Like your Mum, you weren’t a genius but you did help Scorpion anytime they were down a member, especially now since Toby had said he’d stay back to help Ralph with his project.

You were a little hurt that Ralph welcomed his help more-so than yours, despite you being the History expert, but nonetheless, you brushed it off and gathered your things to join the team’s trip to Greenland.

                ✧── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

Arriving at the Granse World Seed Vault, you tugged at the lapels of your winter coat, trying to keep some of the warmth in you which was a large feat considering you were stuck in a blizzard in the middle of nowhere.

The winds, that could only be described as gusting, blew through your hair, further obstructing your view as you entered the building.

Moving the hair from your face, you shivered and looked up to see that the vault was desolate.

“Well, now we know why nobody ever comes out here.” Sly stated.

You all watched as Walter failed to use the key card resulting in Happy jump starting the generator using the battery from the snowcat you travelled in.

Then you all split up to go and complete your tasks.

Your Mum and Walter remained at the entrance whilst Happy started to repair the generator, Cabe went to the breakroom, Sly went to the server room and you went to find the operations centre to locate the power conduit which you needed to switch off and on again.

The dark hallway you were in suddenly brightened meaning Happy had managed to fix one of the power sources. You let out a breath of relief; you didn’t exactly welcome the idea of wandering around a pitch black vault alone where no one had been for almost a year.

You then began to cough as the vents let out some sort of yellow dust. The smell was putrid, almost making you heave.

“God, that smell is awful. So much for this being an antiseptic facility.” You groaned.

“Well, this facility self-purifies its air, but the system's been down for days, so the seeds have decayed a bit, the vents are just stirring up seed dust.” Walter said through your comms.

“Speaking of stirring up, I can only imagine what kind of trouble is being stirred up in the garage. I worry about his maturity level.”

“Mum, don’t worry. Ralph’s the most mature person I know.”

“Oh honey, I know. I was talking about Toby.”

You snickered to yourself and then stopped when you realised you’d found the Ops Centre.

“Guys, I figured out what caused the surge.”

You listened as Sly’s voice crackled through your comms.

After he had finished explaining, you spoke, “So the whole place went dark because the programmers forgot to synchronize their watches?”

“Right! But if I can get the operating system's clock lined up with Finland's, then I'll have this fixed.”

Sylvester paused for a brief moment and when he spoke again, his voice came out in a panicked whisper.

“Is anyone else getting a weird vibe? Like...like we're not alone?”

“Hey, Sly. It’s okay. Just breathe.” You said calmly before telling him to follow your breathing pattern to regulate his own.

“Good job, y/n. Sly, everything’s going to be fine. Fix the server’s clock and we’ll be out of here soon.”

You smiled at your mother’s praise and went to find the panel switch.

You enjoyed working with your Mum, loving the fact that you got to spend more time with her since starting University. But sometimes, you found yourself feeling...lonely because most of your Mum’s attention was focused on Ralph and the rest of the team.

You understood Ralph, in the broadest of terms, that was. You loved him as much as your mum and you knew her looking after Scorpion was her job but it still hurt you because you didn’t have anything in common with the rest of them.

THUD

You jumped when the door behind you slammed shut.

“Mum? I’m locked in.” You shouted out worryingly.

“It’s okay, sweetie. Our blast doors are locked too.” Your Mum said, her voice calming you with every word.

“The vault prioritizes keeping seeds safe so it must go into lockdown when it's most vulnerable, i.e. a reboot. So the doors will open in 40 minutes when the reboot is done. Everything is fine.”

Walter explained before you winced at the shriek that came through on your comms.

“Sly, what the hell?” You yelled, rubbing your ear, as if trying to sooth the pain.

“They’re in here. They’re in here.” The genius repeated as your brows furrowed in confusion.

“Sly, what’s going on?”

“Sylvester, do you copy?”

“Sly!”

You all started to shout in concern, scared for Sly’s safety, before stilling when the latter’s screams fell quiet.

“I was right. I’m not alone. It’s chickens!”

How the hell had chickens got into the seed vault? You thought to yourself.

“Hey guys. I didn’t want Sly to hear us.” Toby said.

You figured your Mum must have called him and patched him through to your comms.

You all listened as Toby explained how Sly was suffering from a psychotic break but when he commented on some yellow dust, he realised that you had all breathed in seed fungus that affected the fear centre in your brain.

You started to get even more concerned when it became apparent that Happy and Cabe were hallucinating but you were shamefully relieved that the ergot spores hadn’t affected you. You weren’t sure you wanted to experience your darkest fear, especially when you were surrounded by your Mum and the team.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, Mum. I’m not seeing or hearing anything.” You reassured her, hearing her sigh of relief.

“Okay, thank god. We’ll get you out soon enough, okay, sweetie?”

You blinked, turning around when you heard your mother’s voice behind you.

“Y/N?” Paige said through your comms.

But you just blinked again, because you could see your Mum in front of you and you couldn’t distinguish the look on her face.

“Mum, what’s wrong?” You said.

“What? Nothing’s wrong. Toby. Walt. What’s happening?” Paige said frantically.

“Y/N must have inhaled the ergot too and she’s now trapped in her false reality.” Toby explained.

“We got to get her out of there, Walter.”

Paige said, near tears, before falling silent as she watched you on the security camera. She saw you sit on a chair and converse with an imaginary Paige.

“Mum, what did I do? I’m sorry.” You said, tears forming in your eyes at your mother’s words.

“I told you, I don’t love you. Scorpion is my family. They’re geniuses and you’re not.”

“Mum, please.” Your voice broke, as you started to plead with her.

“I-I can’t watch this. I need to get her out of there. Y/N, listen to me. I am here!”

Paige ran up to the blast doors and started to bang on the reinforced steel. Her attempts, however, were futile, because she knew that the doors wouldn’t open until you, Cabe, Happy and Sly had completed your tasks.

“Paige, you have to keep it together.” Toby said.

“No, my daughter is living her worst fear and I can’t do anything to stop it.”

“I know. I want to help Happy too. But we can’t until we figure out what psychological baggage the fungus is unpacking.”

“And we might need to hurry because Sly is getting unsure of foot.”

Walter said as Paige returned to his side to see Sly having trouble keeping his balance.

“God, we need to get them out of there. The exposure seems extensive which means their blood vessels are being constricted, especially in the brain meaning-“

“Less blood flow. And less blood flow means less oxygen. And less oxygen means...coma.” Walter finished solemnly.

“We have to talk them lucid so they can finish their tasks. I’ll take Happy. Walt, you take Cabe. Ralph, you have your work cut out for you with Sly. And Paige-“

“I’ll help y/n. Y/N? Y/N, honey, if you can hear me, I need you to flip the switch on the panel next to you. Y/N?”

“Y/N!”

“I’m sorry, Mum. Please don’t yell. What did I do wrong?”

“I told you, you’re just not special so why should I waste my time with you?”

“Please, Mum. I’m sorry I’m not special enough. I’m sorry I’m not smart like everyone else. Please don’t send me away.”

Paige’s heart broke as she watched you cry on her screen.

“Y/N, I love you so much. You are special. I love you.” Paige cried, tears dropping down her face.

“Toby, it’s not working. I can’t get through to y/n!”

“Ralph and I may have come up with another idea. You need to go back to the point when these fears started and attack that seminal moment.”

“Okay, so she’s talking about not being smart enough. I can only guess that this started when I joined the team. Y/N? Baby, can you hear me?”

Paige’s voice softened as she spoke to you once more.

“Yes, Mum?” You replied, sniffling as your tears continued to fall down your face.

“Oh, honey. Just because you’re not a genius like the rest of these guys, doesn’t mean you’re not special.”

“But I’m not.”

“Y/N, yes, you are. You’ve been special since the moment you were born. Since the moment I first held you in my arms. You’re my baby, y/n. You are special in your own way.”

Your Mum grabbed your hand and held them to her heart.

“You feel that?”

“Y-Your heartbeat?” You asked, feeling the light repetitive beating under your palm.

“Yes. My heartbeat. More importantly, my heart. You are my heart, y/n. You have been for 18 years. I grew up with you. You made me into the person I am today. The person I am now. I love you so much.”

“Yes, you’re not as smart as Ralph or Walter or the rest of the team but neither am I. Y/N, you are bright, intelligent. You are twice the person I am. You care so much about everyone. Your heart is beautiful.”

Your mother gently dropped your hand in her lap and lifted her own to cradle your face.

“That’s what makes you special.” She moved to place a soft kiss on your forehead.

“Now, y/n. I’m already so proud of you but I need you to do one thing for me. I need you to turn the switch in front of you off and on again.”

Paige held her breath as she and Walter watched you slowly stand up on your shaky legs and walk over to the panel that had the power conduit switch attached to it.

“Done.” Your voice echoed on the security monitor.

“Good girl.”

“I’m kinda sleepy, Mum. I’m just going to take a quick nap.” Your voice quietened as you lay down on the floor.

“Uh, Toby. Y/N flipped the switch but she’s really sleepy and I can’t get her to wake up.”

“Oh god, Happy, Sly and Cabe are out too. They’re in comas. They need medical assistance stat or they will die.”

“Walter.” Paige whispered, unable to speak any louder due to fear of losing you.

“We can synthesize a treatment!”

Toby then explained the different seeds they needed to mix together to make the medicine whilst Ralph hacked the vault’s database to locate them.

Once Paige and Walter had manufactured oxygen tubes out of PVC pipes, they hastily made their way to the vault before stopping when they saw you unconscious on the ground.

Paige ran to your side, still holding her breath, and quickly checked for a pulse, relaxing slightly when she felt it, albeit it was weak, but it was still there. She ran her thumb against your cheek in a gentle caress and then followed Walter to the vault, passing the others, also unconscious, on their way.

Easily finding the required seeds, the duo made the medicine oil but when a chemical fire broke out, Walter stayed to put it out whilst Paige ran to give the oil to the rest of you.

She found Cabe first, then Happy and Sly. Once she had rendered them conscious, she ran off in pursuit of the Operations Centre where you were.

Carefully but quickly, she lifted your head to rest against her leg as she poured the oil beneath your tongue.

“Come on, sweetie. Wake up. Open your eyes. Please, God.” She murmured to herself.

You opened your eyes with some difficulty, wincing at the light above you.

“Mum? What happened?” You groaned, sitting up.

“Thank God, you’re okay. I thought I’d lost you.”

Ignoring your question, your Mum gathered you in her arms and hugged you tight against her.

“I love you so much, y/n.”

Hugging her back, you rested your head against the crook of her neck, “I love you too.”

“Guys, come on, we gotta go.”

You both looked up to see Happy standing at the door. With the help of your Mum, you stood up and she then grabbed your hand and you all ran back to the entrance.

                ✧── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

You had all safely arrived back home and managed to make it in time for Sly’s debate.

You sat in the chair next to Happy, slowly falling asleep, exhausted from the ordeals of the day.

Soon after you’d left the Vault and were on your way home, the grogginess of the poisonous fungus had fully left your system, allowing you to remember your hallucination. You’d barely said more than two words on the plane ride home, unsure of the right words to say to your Mum who had undoubtedly heard your fear.

“Hey, sweetie. Stay awake for a little while longer. We’re going home. Sly’s going to look after Ralph tonight.”

Your mother said, resting her hand on your shoulder to rouse you. You nodded in response and got up, following her to her car.

Similar to the plane, the car ride was silent. Not necessarily an awkward silence, but it was far from comfortable. You felt the constant glances your Mum gave you as she drove on the quiet roads. You noticed her lips part a few times too, as if she was about to say something but then stopped herself at the last moment.

Arriving home, your Mum unlocked the door and you made a beeline to your bedroom to get changed into your nightie. As you laid in your bed, you heard a soft knock on your door.

Inviting your Mum in, you saw she had changed too. She sat on your bed, the lamp providing some light in the room.

“Honey, can we talk?”

Not waiting for an answer, she got into the bed beside you and rested against the headboard.

“I want to talk about what happened earlier.”

There was no need for her to clarify what she meant.

“Do we have to?”

“Yes, y/n, we do. It broke my heart to see you cry today. And it hurt even more to hear that I was the reason why. I’ve never ever wanted to cause you any pain and the fact that I was a part of your deepest fear just-“

When her voice faltered, you looked up to see quiet tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Mum, I’m sorry.”

“Baby, you have nothing to apologise for. I’m sorry that you felt like you weren’t special. But I meant what I said back there. You are special in your own way. Yes, I love you and Ralph in different ways but you mean so much to me. I’m surrounded by geniuses all the time, and frankly, it gets tiring. So I’m glad I have you. You bring me back down to Earth. You’re my heart and soul, y/n.”

Not knowing the right words to say, you simply lay your head against your mother’s chest and hugged her close.

“I love you, Mum.”

“I love you too, baby. I always have and I always will.”

Soon enough, both of your tears stopped and you fell asleep in her arms, her hands gently stroking your hair as she cradled you against her.

You may not have been a genius but you were smart enough to realise that no matter what, your Mum would always love you.

[cocosstories]

Bucky Barnes One Shot

Hi ^^ im currently rewatching the First Avenger, so I was wondering if you could write sth about a fem!reader, who’s either a nurse or an agent, like Peggy. Her and Buck fall in love and both get frozen somehow -> fast forward to them living happily in the present (No blip everyone’s just happy at the tower).

"He's gone. He fell off the train. There was nothing I could do."

Steve says sadly, tears in his eyes when you ask where Bucky was and why he wasn't with the rest of the soldiers coming back. 

Your heart pounds, the words hitting your ears but you refuse to believe them.

As a SHIELD agent, you knew the risks of the mission Steve and the other Howling Commandos were taking. 

Injury or even casualty was apart of war and you were always prepared for the loss of a soldier. 

But this loss was different.

You and Bucky had been seeing eachother for quite a while now and  the hole his death left in your heart was almost too much to bear. 

"Sir, I would like permission to retrieve Sargent Barnes' body. The Captain roughly knows the coordinates and I feel that it is only right to bring him home."

The commanding officer looks at you and ultimately agrees. 

"Y/N, you don't have to do this alone."

Peggy says as you prepare for your self appointed mission. 

"He would do it for me."

Was all you could say.

As you trek through the snow, you find the remnants of a blood trail, kneeling down in a spot where the blood seemed to pool before everything suddenly goes dark.

"Y/N?"

You come to a whole later to find yourself strapped to a table a soft voice calling out your name and you turn your head slightly to see Bucky on a table next to you.

Before you are able to say anything, things go dark again, you hearing Bucky trying to fight to get them to leave you alone.

When you finally become conscious again, you realize things are different. 

The last you remember, you were in a dark and dingy room covered in old and rusted pipes.

Now, you were surrounded by white, crisp and clean walls, medical equipment quietly beeping around you.

"Doll? She's awake! Come quick!"

Your attention is turned to the sound of Bucky's voice and your eyes desperately scan the room to find him.

"Bu-Bucky?"

Your voice was hoarse as you call his name but he rushes over to you.

"I'm here, doll. You're ok."

He takes your hand, leaning down to kiss it lightly.

As you look at him, you notice how different he looks. 

His hair was shoulder length, a full beard covered his face and his eyes, his beautiful eyes looked haunted in a way only a soldier could understand.

"What happened? Where are we?"

You try to sit up but fail as your body refuses to listen. 

"You've been asleep for a while."

You can tell he is trying to ease into the whole of the situation.

"How long?"

He looks down.

"Almost eighty years."

The whole thing comes as a shock as Bucky explains everything that had happened, from you being taken and experimented on by Hyrda to his actions as the Winter Soldier finally ending with the two of you being taken in by the Wakandans after Steve had found you.

When everything had been explained and you had been checked by multiple doctors, you were released with a clean bill of health.

Bucky leads you around the dome surrounding the beautiful and breathtaking country of Wakanda, filling you in on what you have missed until you finally stop at his hut on the countryside.

"I thought I had lost you forever. When Steve came back, he told me you had died. I just wanted to bring your body home."

When the two of you were finally alone, you let your emotions fully take over, overwhelmed by everything.

"I know, doll. I know. It's ok. I know this is all a lot to take in but we are together. You didn't lose me. I'm right here."

He pulls you into his arms, kissing your forehead as you cry into his chest. 

It had been nearly a year since you had been woken up and you and Bucky were happily living in Wakanda. 

During your time there, you had gotten married and even built and moved into a new hut on the same land.

Steve had come to visit multiple times and even served as Bucky's best man at your wedding. 

You had met the rest of the Avengers and got the chance to thank those who had sided with Steve to save Bucky. 

Your life together was quiet and peaceful, filled with so much love which was only added to when you gave birth to each of your five children. 

It wasn't the life you had planned back when you had first met him but as long as you had Bucky by your side, none of that mattered. 

It was perfect.

[spidersbane]

Hello! Can I get MCU, The Hobbit, and The Man From U.N.C.L.E. ship? 💚

Appearance: She/her. 179,5cm tall, rectangle body shape. Fair skin complexion with quite a few birthmarks. Dyed brown with honey-red highlights, shoulder-length, straight hair with bangs. The left eye is a mix of two colors – a smaller portion of (darker) greyish-blue and a larger portion of hazel; while the right eye is just a (lighter) greyish-blue. Heptagon face shape with two dimples on the left cheek and one on the right cheek (only visible while smiling). A gap between the upper front teeth.

Personality (good and bad traits): Ever since I was a kid, I was always quite mature for my age – I identify myself as an old soul. I come off as polite and well-mannered to strangers, yet I tend to keep it to myself by being reserved. But, that’s because I have social anxiety and I’m nervous and shy when meeting/talking to people. The only people I’m comfortable with being with my inner circle – closest friends and family. I am usually more “open” with my friends than with my family. With my friends I can be my “truest-self” – I smile more, I laugh more, I feel more accepted and understood. I am the mom and the fashionista of the group. Don’t get me wrong, I am fiercely protective of my family, especially of my mother and younger sister. But, lately, I’ve been feeling like the “black sheep” of the family, Cinderella who’s been taken advantage of. I express my affection for the people I care about in little, but practical, ways. I can be a little stiff when it comes to open, gushy displays of affection. Others turn to me for help and advice. I’m kind-hearted and generous, always ready to help a person in need. Always have been motherly towards children. Very awkward at keeping small talk (usually with people that I’m not that close with). Absolutely, hate speaking in front of a public, and if I do, because of my nervousness, I tend to mess up my words and/or I practice whatever I’m about to say in my head at first. I appreciate the simplicity and am often most comfortable when I’m not getting too much attention from the world. I am sensitive – both to criticism and to others’ feelings (I sponge up the feelings and moods of people and the environment around me). Have a hard time saying no or expressing my true thoughts, feelings. I get influenced by other people’s opinions/thoughts quite hard (I take everything to the heart), that is why I tend to keep a lot to myself (may come off as a little bit tense, secretive, mysterious). I avoid the harsh reality by daydreaming (almost every day) – imagining myself in situations far from my current circumstances. Sort of like a self-escape. I worry a lot and overthink almost everything. I am easily distracted and my attention span can be quite short. I have an internal struggle between my needs and wants. I can lack focus and be indecisive as a result – when I decide on one route, I am pulled in another direction at the same time (“But what if…”, “on the other hand...”). That is why I’m having a bit of a struggle with deciding what I want to do in the future (career-wise). I am easily overwhelmed by pressure and stress. There is a self-destructive side to me (self-critical, lack of self-confidence) that I’m working on by confronting my fears (coming out of my shell). Don’t like taking pictures, or other people taking pictures of me. I feel most content when I’ve straightened out all the details of everyday life. I have a routine, that I follow by mostly every day, and if something small changes in that routine, I start to have a small internal anxiety attack. Also, I like to do things my own way, like, when it comes to cleaning the house or organizing stuff, etc. I get triggered even if people don’t do the laundry the way I do. I guess you could describe me as a perfectionist, clean/control freak. In triggering situations I can be impulsive, spontaneous, quick to act. Quick flare-ups of anger/annoyance when being provoked on my patience. Even when I’m feeling low, I manage to find humor in life and have fun with whatever I do have. Although I tend to bottle things up, I am an emotional person and my emotions are genuine – I love and care deeply and passionately and wish no ill will upon anyone, yet it hards for me to imagine someone falling in love with me or just liking me.

Hobbies, likes: My hobbies are cleaning, writing (re-writing song lyrics, making small notes, writing stories), listening to any type of music, catching up on my favorite films and TV shows, hanging out with friends, going to the cinema, or the club, being out in nature, reading, traveling. I like history, cooking, fashion magazines (or fashion in general), road trips, spirituality, mythology, books, orange juice, previous decades, cottage-core, dark academia.

Overall: Hufflepuff. INFP-T. Bi-sexual. Pisces-Aries cusp sign. “Looks like could kill you, but is actually a cinnamon roll.” A feminist, support LGBTQ+ community. That’s it, thank you!

hey @pataim ! thanks so much for sending in your request, and thank you so much for your honesty about yourself. like it takes a lot to air yourself out like that, and I admire your strength for it. but also fINALLY a 'Man from U.N.C.L.E' ship! I love that movie and attempt Illya's accent all the time, so this will be fun :)

For the MCU/Marvel - I ship you with Steve Rogers/Captain America ! 

no one can tell me that Steve doesn’t have a set routine honestly, so let me just get that out there 

he seems intimidating at first, esp as a public figure and Avenger, but Steve is nothing but passionate about what he does. so it may clash w your lack of direction, but I could honestly see him envying that a lil bit, like it’s not that you don’t have direction, it’s the fact that you still have a choice in the matter. 

your love of history put you in a museum, here you bumped into Steve in a horrible disguise. he struck up the conversation first, and once you got past the whole “holy crap that’s Captain America”, you could actually engage with him in the material and boi was he smitten 

he would love to join you when your rewatched your fave things, bc not only is he catching up on more media he missed out on, he’s also getting to know your interests in a way that’s comfortable with you. it avoids all the small talk, but leaves room for discussion after the film/show ! 

since you tend to sponge up a lot of what other people believe, it’s totally Steve who actually tries to question what you think and what you feel about things. he’s someone who encourages you to have your own opinions and to stay true to those thoughts. so while with him, you can rely on him to learn about yourself, you also gain skills for independence

overall, Steve is super patient, and despite his chaotic job as Cap, he takes comfort in his routine, and would find comfort incorporating a partner’s routine into his life. and as you grow in a relationship with him, he’s patient about teaching you how to be your own person, and helping you learn more about yourself. and while it’s uncomfortable, you grow stronger throughout being with him :) 

For The Hobbit - I ship you with Bilbo Baggins !

Bilbo is the definition of introvert, and you're right there with him

not that introversion is ever a bad thing, bc it isn't. but Bilbo is quite content to sit in his little hobbit hole and vibe. like Gandalf had to come find him, ya know. dude disappeared from his own bday.

but anyways. it's not that Bilbo lacks purpose, it's just that he's more content with a quieter life. and it seems like his quiet life would balance you out well! like the Shire is so so chill, and there doesn't really seem to be a lot of pressure on the hobbits to pick a profession. like they just genuinely do what needs to get done.

similarly, Bilbo is the type who seems a little bothered by mushy displays of affection. exhibit a: disappearing from his own bday. like he's much more the type to refill your tea when y'all are reading by the fireplace, which he would totally do w you

it will probs take you a little while to warm up to each, given just how introverted you both are. but when he explains that he has set ways of doing things, then if they're compatible w your ways of doing things, then it doesn't take you long to open up to him

like it'll be a little jarring, but he takes comfort in his routines too. and it'll be an event trying to incorporate both of your ways of life together, but he's willing to do it

overall, yours is a very quaint partnership, built on deep respect for one another. neither of you are going to push the other to do things you aren't into. and y'all just live your best lives together tbh :)

For The Man From U.N.C.L.E - I ship you with Illya Kuryakin !

I love my big Russian spy so much, so this is fun for me

so Illya is the epitome of reserved and generally quiet, so it might take a while to really break down his walls and talk to him. and he's not quite sure what to do with you once you join the team

but, he's playing his game of chess alone, and when you sit down and ask to play with him, he opens up a little more after that

if you're one who get sent out on mission with the team, get ready, bc sometimes those missions require a lot of improvising. but you'd probably be at whatever 'base' was, helping run operations from a more secure place. but Illya and Napoleon improvise a lot, leading to a lot of headaches for you and Waverly

Illya has small bursts of anger, but similar to Gaby, most times, you can intervene and he doesn't get violent. or when he does, he tries to make sure it isn't in front of you. but bc you care so deeply for him, you're there for him in the aftermath. and that's how you show your love for him.

by patching him up if he gets cut, by talking him down when he's angry. and just generally trying to take care of him. and he totally does the same for you, especially if you get sent out into the field

and much to Illya's dismay, Solo doesn't refrain form making jokes about you. but if you can take them in stride, then Solo welcomes you into the team just as well :)

[undercoveravenger]

The Way to a Man’s Heart

Pairing: Gil x Tiana's son!Reader

Requested: Yes

Original Request: “Male reader x Gil. Reader is the son of tiana and scares Gil who sneaks into the kitchen for a midnight snack. They bond over their love of food and fall in love”

A/N: This was a really cute pair to write for! Plus it gave me a reason to rewatch Princess and the Frog, which is always great. I hope you enjoy!

__________________________________________________________

It was well after midnight when Gil snuck out of his room in search of a midnight snack. The halls were (understandably) deserted, so the blond wasn’t really worried about being caught out after curfew, despite having to pass through most of campus before he reached the kitchen.

He hesitated for a moment outside the door, but when he couldn’t hear anything after a moment, he pushed the door open and slipped inside. Gil grinned to himself as he reached out to flip on the lights, knowing that he’s successfully evaded being caught and now he gets to help himself to whatever is in the huge stainless-steel fridge or in the snack pantry or-

Gil let out a shriek that would certainly have gotten him disowned had his dad heard it, clamping a hand to his chest as he realized he wasn’t actually alone.

The (h/c) male that was sitting on the counter jolted as Gil made himself known. “Uh, hi?” the stranger said slowly, setting his phone down beside him.

Gil remained quiet for a moment, trying to calm himself after the shock of seeing someone in the dark when he’d thought he was alone. “I wasn’t expecting anyone down here this late,” he said when his heartrate had finally come back to normal.

The (h/c) shrugged, glancing at the time on his phone before slipping down from the counter and moving to take a large bowl from the refrigerator. “It’s the only time when I don’t have to worry about being interrupted when I cook,” he said by way of explanation, setting the large bowl beside a pot on the stove, which had been bubbling quietly the whole time.

“Oh.” Suddenly Gil realized that he had been the one to intrude, not the other way around. A little flustered, he decided it might be better to not to bother him any longer. “Well, I just stopped by to grab a snack, so I’ll just-”

“Take a seat,” the male rolled his eyes, lifting a glob of dough from the bowl and rolling it flat before cutting it into a small rectangle and dropping it into the pot of oil. He could clearly tell that Gil was still feeling uncomfortable, so he attempted to make conversation. “You just transferred from the Isle of the Lost, right? What’s been your favorite part of Auradon so far?”

Gil did as he was told, sinking onto one of the stools lining the counters and propping his chin up on his hands as he watched the (h/c) cook. “The food, definitely. We never really had much back on the Isle, mostly just whatever was still edible by the time it got sent over there.” He paused, realizing he hadn’t introduced himself, “Oh, um, I’m Gil, by the way.”

“(M/N),” the other male- (M/N)- replied, still hung up on the fact that his new companion hadn’t ever actually experienced good food before. He had to scramble to pull the now-golden fried dough from the pot before it burned. “Really, you call the food here good?”

The blond was a little taken aback, “I mean, yeah? Wouldn’t you?”

“Honey, I was born and raised in New Orleans. You haven’t even begun to taste good food.” (M/N) rolled his eyes as he placed the pastry on a plate, sprinkling some powdered sugar and drizzling a touch of honey over it before turning and placing the beignet in front of Gil. “Try that.”

Gil blinked at the sugary confection, but he shrugged and took a bite anyway. His eyes widened and he was quick to take another bite. “I dunno wha’ this is,” he started, voice muffled by the food, “Bu’ I think ‘m in love.”

(M/N) chuckled, turning back to go start on the rest of his beignets, “My momma always said the best way to a man’s heart was through his stomach and she wound up married to a prince, so she must’ve been on to something.”

Gil grinned, getting up and coming to stand next to (M/N) so he could watch as he cooked. “If she could cook as well as you do, I’m sure she was right. Hell, I’m ready to propose if it means I can have another one.”

“You can have another,” the (h/c) chuckled, reaching over to wipe some of the powdered sugar from his face, “But let’s start with a date, yeah?”

Gil flushed, bringing a hand up to try and scrub away the rest of the sugar as (M/N) dished up another beignet for him, “Okay.”

Maybe there really was something special about southern food after all.

[ressyfaerie]

Dark Tyson fic; during G-Rev, Tyson snaps from stress and feelings of abandonment and joins Team BEGA. (Bonus points for Brooklyn getting close to Tyson to make Kai jealous. Black Dragoon optional, or maybe Boris gives him Black Dranzer...?!)

I saved the best for last. 

I am a big fan of dark Tyson- love it. I’ve been thinking of this prompt for DAYS. I’m very excited to write this- as you know I am the angst queen. For the sake of this fic, g-rev timelines are going to be confusingly switched around, just because it makes more sense for the fic, and also- I’ve forgotten some important plot points and dont have the time to rewatch g-rev LMAO. Anything in * can be Tyson’s or Kai’s private thoughts! 

So I finished writing this, and it's LONG. so I’ve actually uploaded it to archive first, because reading it on tumblr seems like a chore and a half, so here’s the archive link: 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30739397/chapters/75866906

It came out to 50 pages, and it’s 5 chapters on archive. 

And here’s the first ‘chapter’ of the fic: 

So here we go:

It was odd to see Kenny angry. 

He tossed his laptop to the side, picking up spare bey parts in his hand. 

“Kenny! I’m just saying- What are our chances? Without everyone else, we’re useless as a team-”

“I’ve been working so hard Tyson…” Kenny shook in anger, beside him. Hilary tried to place her hand on his shoulder to comfort him, but he shook her off. 

“How could you say we’re useless?! When we’ve been trying so hard!?” 

“It’s not enough! You know me and Diachi can’t work together-” 

From the corner of the room, Diachi screeched, “Hey loser! I’m right here!” 

“I know, you shitty little cherry tomato!” 

Hilary tried to be the mediator, “Tyson, are you sure that’s how you really feel?” 

Tyson nodded, “Our team has no hope. Now with BEGA taking over everything we can’t even get any parts, it’s useless-” 

“How could you say that Tyson!” Kenny yelled louder than he ever had in his life, “You’re the one who’s supposed to be uplifting us! You’re the leader-” 

“I don’t want to be a leader! We had a leader remember? And a coach?” 

“You can’t give up!” Kenny begged and shook with anger, Tyson felt horrible, he knew Kenny had been working so hard, but they had lost too much, he felt there was no hope of recovery. 

“Throw out your research Kenny, we’re done.” Tyson stared at the wooden floorboards of the dojo, completely defeated. 

“AaaaH!” Kenny had launched himself forward- landing a strong right hook on Tyson’s cheek. 

Tyson fell backwards, landing on his side and quickly sitting up to rub his cheek, “What the hell Kenny!?” 

Kenny was furious, “you can throw away everything we’ve worked for if you want! Telling me to throw away *my* research?! You need to get yourself together Tyson!” 

Tyson was left speechless, Hilary nodded, agreeing with Kenny, “if we’re going to defeat BEGA we need a Tyson who can hold himself together.” 

“You’re heads messed up dude,” Diachi remarked, “We can’t work with you until you fix yourself.” 

Tyson could feel the anger radiate through his body, “if you guys think I’m so messed up then maybe I should just leave!?” 

“Then go.” Kenny hissed through clenched teeth. 

“Fine! Good luck with hopper-” Tyson slammed his hands on the floor throwing himself to his feet, “Your beyblade that fucking hops- Beyblades aren’t supposed to hop Kenny!” 

He slid open the shoji doors fast, and threw them closed, rattling the old dojo like an earthquake. Outside in the gardens, he cursed. 

“Tyson?” 

Hearing his grandpa’s voice behind him, he aggressively swung his body in his direction, “What is it Gramps? I’m not in the mood-” 

“What’s going on with you and your friends?” 

“Friends!?” Tyson spat. 

“Oh no... Tyson-” Ryu shook his head. 

“What? What is it? Is it something wrong with me?” Tyson’s whole body was stationary, emanating white anger.

“Your friends didn’t leave you to hurt you.” 

“Not my friends- Friends don’t betray each other to go to different teams.” 

“You *know* they didn’t betray you.” 

“Then tell me why Kai went to BEGA.” 

Grandpa stayed silent, he didn’t have a good reason why Kai went to BEGA, and no one knew why. 

“I’m sure like Max and Ray, he just wanted to fight you again.” 

“And Hiro?” 

“He wanted to train stronger opponents for you-” 

Tyson suddenly laughed, “he could have trained *me*.” 

Ryu placed his hands in front of him, trying to calm his grandson down from a distance. 

His Grandpa was more serious than he had been in years. 

“He could have- I know it wasn’t the best thing for Hiro to do, but- he did it because he loves you.” 

“Okay Grandpa, you have an answer for everything huh? Then answer me this- where’s my dad?” 

The garden turned ice cold. 

“I’m sure he’s around Tyson-”

“Does he not have a TV? Or a post office? How can he sit in some country, and not see what is happening to his own son!?” Tyson’s voice bellowed through the courtyard. 

“I don’t know Tyson- he loves you.” 

“No he doesn’t- It seems no one does-” Tyson was holding back angry sobs. 

Ryu took a step forward, “Tyson I-” 

“No!” Tyson screamed and threw his hand in front of him to keep him back, “stay away from me!” 

The doors to the dojo opened, no doubt his make-shift team coming to see the commotion. 

“You guys stay away from me too!” Tyson grasped his head and scratched his nails into his scalp, “Everyone just- stay away from me.” 

No one could say anything, Tyson glanced around at the quiet group, “what? Are you guys afraid of me now or something?” 

“Tyson, you need to calm down-” Ryu tried. 

“No? Don’t tell me to calm down!-” Tyson took a step backwards, trying desperately to flee the situation, then it occurred to him- he could. 

Tyson stared down the gravel beneath his feet, the world felt blurry, and in that moment his vision flashed red, he turned away running at full pace through the yard, and out the gates, flying down the street as he heard his only paternal figure and teammates calling for him. 

Down the road, over a bridge, along the ocean, towards the river. 

The sun was setting now, twilight was blanketing the world. 

At the top of the riverbank he began to head towards the river, not knowing why. He slipped on the smooth grass landing on his back and groaning in pain. 

He placed his hands over his face and cried. 

He sobbed for everything- everything he lost, his friend’s, his reputation, his spirit. 

He pulled himself off the grass and shoved his head in between his knees, still crying. Anger, sadness, regret, he felt it all at once. It was eating him from the inside out.

He let out a frustrated scream while jabbing his fingertips into his biceps, trying desperately to turn to dust, to become one with the earth. 

He didn’t hear the footsteps approach him. 

“I would ask if you’re okay- but I know the answer.” 

“Whoever you are- Just leave me alone- please.” Tyson buried his head further into his knees. 

He felt someone sit beside him, the grass crunched under their weight.

“Everyone’s left you.” 

“I know that-” Tyson could barely make out the words. 

“They left you for better teams, brighter pastures… You must think you’re not good enough for them.”

Tyson shook his head. 

“You are. You’re better than all of them, probably better than all of them combined.” 

 Those words made Tyson perk his head up, wondering who his savior tonight could possibly be. 

The purple hair stood out first, he wore a compassionate smile. 

Tyson locked eyes with his arch-enemy but made no effort to change his expression.

 “You’re allowed to be sad- and angry.” 

Tyson became more frustrated, *why is it out of everyone I know, the evilest person tells me what I need to hear?*

Boris had an interesting voice. Tyson tried to dissect the tone, but he could only detect… Affection. 

“What are you going to do now… World champion?”

Tyson felt his body go numb at the comment, so much was expected of him, but he had no way of accomplishing any of it. 

Tyson tried to inhale before answering, a cough got stuck in his throat, and he answered in a hoarse voice, “I’m not sure.” 

Boris continued smiling, he stared at the orange sun, just about to disappear under the horizon, “Do you want to show your friends how capable you are?” 

Tyon managed to hold his head up for a moment, he slowly nodded. 

“Good for you.” 

His words seemed to calm him down against his will. 

Tyson mumbled, “I won’t join BEGA.”  

“I’m not asking you to. But I do have everything you need to arm yourself. Parts, training rooms, places to sleep, all the food you could ask for” 

Tyson shook his head. 

“No strings attached. Come see my training facilities tonight, if you don’t want to be there, you can leave.”  

Tyson felt cold, the shadow of the setting sun crept over them, an ominous darkness crawled over his face, then Boris’. 

“Or would you rather go back to your home tonight?” 

Boris made a point. Tyson had no intention of going home tonight, but he had nowhere to stay. 

His eyes darted back and forth, deep in thought. 

Boris pushed himself off the ground and stepped to the top of the hill. 

On the road next to them, a fancy car.  

The purple-haired man opened the passenger door and gestured with his hand. Tyson gave him a blank stare. 

“Come on, world champ.” He emphasized the last words just right- reminding Tyson how much was on his back, “what’ll it be?” 

Tyson’s brain wasn’t working, logical thought was too much to process. What he did know was- he didn’t want to sit on this riverbank crying the rest of the night. 

Boris waited, for minutes, holding the door open. 

Tyson sniffed, he rubbed his nose with his forearm, crawled to his knees, and pushed himself off the ground. 

“Good job, champion.” Boris grinned, giving him the unnecessary compliment. 

Tyon was beside him now, he rested his fingertips on the top of the car door, feeling the cold black metal under his nails. 

“It’ll be warmer inside when I turn on the heat,” Boris reassured Tyson, inspecting his skin, covered in goosebumps from the cold.

“O...kay…” 

Tyson crawled into the passenger seat weakly.

He did turn on the heat. The heated seats warmed Tyson’s whole body. He watched the street lamps roll past as he hunched into the leather. 

Boris drove like an old man- but also a maniac. Driving the speed limit, but taking turns at the same speed. 

The BEGA building towered over the whole city. They pulled into a parking garage, the gates rose with Boris’ presence. 

After parking in a special stall, Boris turned off the car and climbed out, he walked to Tyson’s side opening the door for him. Tyson didn’t have the energy to complain that he could have done it himself, and instead, followed the older man to a specific elevator. 

They rode the elevator in silence.

When the door opened, Boris walked ahead, Tyson followed cautiously. 

Inside another heavy metal door was darkness, Boris flicked a switch and the lights invaded the room. 

The room was filled with dirt and boulders, in the center, a beydish carved into the earth. 

 “This room was made to be destroyed,” Boris explained. 

Tyson pushed his hands into his pocket, caressing Dragoon with his hand. 

“You’re welcome to destroy it- if you’d like.” 

Tyson still felt emotion linger in his chest, the frustration was killing him, it was a tempting offer, but he knew if he wrecked his blade in the process, he had no way of fixing it. 

“I’m not recording, I’m not analyzing you, I’ll just step back. You do what you need to do.” 

Tyson pulled out his launcher and loaded Dragoon, he directed his launch to a rock.

“AAAUUGH!” Tyson roared as he put all his anger into letting go. 

Dragoon split the rock clean through with ease, the two halves crashing to the ground. 

Tyson continued to scream and throw his hands giving Dragoons orders at a lighting pace. The room was soon covered in dust from the obliterated rocks, while sand rolled over the floor. 

Tyson was holding his chest, trying to get air into his lungs with fast painful breaths, he realized the amount of air he needed wasn’t arriving, so he continued to destroy the room. 

After all the rocks were annihilated, he fell to his knees. He was out of tears, his eyes were wide open. As he witnessed the destroyed room under his body, Boris began to clap. 

“Bravo! Amazing, spectacular! A performance only one person in the whole world could accomplish!” 

Dragoon obediently arrived at Tyson’s knees, he picked him up and inspected him. 

*Trashed. I’m sorry Dragoon.*

He shoved him safely back into his pocket. 

“Fantastic job, Tyson.” Boris was in front of him now, holding out his hand to help him up. 

Tyson wanted to refuse, but his legs were like jelly, he grasped his hand using it as his crutch. 

“You must be thirsty after a performance like that! Come- I have a room prepared.” 

Tyson found himself in an extremely fancy penthouse. Extravagant food was laid out on a table with every kind of drink next to it. 

Boris had gestured to a couch telling him to sit down, when he did, the soft plush absorbed him. The comfort felt amazing on his aching muscles. 

“What do you want to drink, champion?” Boris popped open a wine bottle and poured himself a glass. 

Tyson watched him cautiously, he had never seen an adult drink alcohol so casually in front of him- he was underage after all. 

“Do you want some of this?” Boris gestured to his crystal glass and grinned. 

“No- Just water, thanks.” 

“Any food?” Boris asked as he handed him a glass of cold water from the table. 

Tyson accepted it and began to drink, he stopped for a moment, “not hungry.” 

“You’ve been through a lot tonight, that’s understandable.”

Tyson took another worried sip, “Yeah.” Tyson’s eyes darted side to side.

“You must be wondering about the room?” 

“Is this your place?” Tyson took a good look at the penthouse this time. 

“Actually, it was supposed to be yours, when I finally convinced you to join BEGA, but-” Boris took a sip of his wine, “it seems like that just isn’t going to happen.” 

Tyson felt a wave of exhaustion fall over him. He felt like he had been hit by a truck. 

“Let me show you around,” Boris suggested. 

Tyson decided to follow, he needed to get off the couch before he fell asleep. 

He showed him the kitchen, balcony, hot tub, fireplace, and finally the bedroom. 

“King Size bed, very comfortable, you can lay down if you want.” 

Tyson could sense his eyes closing, it had been a long day, he had never felt this tired, even after training all night. 

Boris sat on the edge of the bed, patting the spot beside him. Without questioning, Tyson was sitting beside him too. 

“It’s okay to rest sometimes. Have you ever seen a champion win on fumes?” 

“I have.” Tyson tried to grin, but failed. 

“Go to sleep Tyson.” 

“No- not here.” 

Boris took his empty water glass out of his hand- he gently pushed his shoulder, Tyson collapsed backwards into the bed. 

“Sleep.”

[werezmastarbucks]

boston

honeymoon masterlist

word count: 2538

music: savage streets by perturbator, you’ll only be safe with me by tuff turf, dark all day by gunship

You stood on one knee, feeling Kai’s fingers under your belt as he held you. You shoved out of the window half way, and yelled,

“I’m good!”

He pushed the gas pedal into the floor, and the car roared angrily, tearing through the night mist.

The black shadows surrounded you, floating out of the metal and brick twilight of the street so suddenly fear shot through you like lightning. You held up your shotgun and aimed, trying to balance with your hip on the frame of the window. Falling out of the window would mean imminent death: zombies were everywhere. They were waiting on the corners, in the windows of the buildings, hiding in the shade, behind the smelly dumpsters and in the middle of the road. As the city lights died out, and the car raced deeper into the district, golden and silver changed into cold blue and electric, the colors of docks and warehouses.

“I got them!”

“Shoot!” Kai yelled.

You exhaled and did not inhale, because the best snipers don’t breathe when shooting. As the monster truck passed by the cluster of black silhouettes, you fired three rounds into them, scaring the gathering and hitting one of them. Then you fell back into your seat and pulled your hair away from your face. It will be a bitch to try and brush after. The car drove out into the narrow quay where black water lay like glistening dirty skin, and Kai’s face was yellow in the passing bleak lights.

“What the hell is that?” he asked, poiting at the figure on the roof on the left. He slowed down a little, and you looked back to make sure nobody’s following you. You set the shotgun on your right.

“It’s Jeepers Creepers”.

“Wha... Y/N. What is Jeepers fucking Creepers doing at our zombie apocalypse?”

“I don’t know, Kai”, you snarled, “maybe he launched it. How am I supposed to know?”

“You’re driving me crazy”.

“I am afraid of Jeepers Creepers, okay? He’s gonna be the final boss”.

“I’m gonna tear his balls off”, Kai mumbled.

“He’ll take yours. That’s what he does”, you reminded him.

Kai snored.

“Get up. There’s more. They must have circled the parking lot. Look”.

Right in the middle of the road, where yellow fog was floating in the air like phantom veil, and the asphalt glistened, sweaty after 10PM rain, the black shadows barricaded the road. Kai stopped the car, and the low grumble slowly faded into the quiet, monotnous howl of the city. Somewhere, trains were moving to and fro on the rails, colliding with each other, creating noise. The factories were working, sending black smoke into the opaque sky, clogged by unwilling cigarrette clouds. The river itself, it seemed, hummed something very low, like a deadly lullaby. This world was a hostile and lonesome place. The only warm thing in here was Kai’s body sitting next to you, radiating humanity. You jerked your shotgun. You knew he was seeing exactly the same thing as you did - a bunch of zombies swaying slowly in your direction. He turned up the music a little.

“Ready?”

“Yeah”.

“Aim better or else we’re gonna drive in circles all night”.

“Don’t tell me how to kill zombies, Kai”.

He mimicked you, starting the car.

Next night, it was his turn, and you did the same thing, racing through the night city, crashing into cardbox fortresses and blowing up the glass forts, shooting the heads off the zombies, until you both have had enough of that zombie apocalypse world. It has been some time until you got tired.

(To get into the right mood, you have occupied the Columbus Movie Theatre for like a week, rewatching zombie movies. Turned out, you can’t just walk into a movie theatre and find all the zombie films piled up neatly in the movie room - or whatever it’s called. You have argued about them again and again, Kai insisting on Evil Dead being immortal classic, but the Day of the Dead was his all-time favorite. You nearly got into a fistfight with him over the Return of the Living Dead.

“Of course”, he puffed and laughed out, condescending as hell.

“What’s that laugh?!” you demanded. Kai shrugged.

“It’s such a girly thing. Return of the Living Dead. The third part is also your favorite, isn’t it?”

And he gave you the nastiest look. You narrowed your eyes.

“You bigot. You absolute fuckface. The first one is my favorite”.

He was enjoying himself too much, obviously agitated by the topic, not entirely there.

“Okay, okay”.

“But for the record, yes, I do think that the third part is the best love story I’ve ever seen on screen. It’s incredible”.

Kai nodded, the smile never leaving his face.

“She managed to fight off her cannibalistic instinct not to hurt the person she loved. She tore herself with needles and hooks to fight the urge to kill him and actually managed to keep him safe although she was literally a flesh eating zombie. How cool is that?”

Kai sighed and looked you in the eye.

“Very cool’, he said, with the tone that screamed ‘you’re silly and I adore you’.

“What other movies came out this year?”

“Not many, it’s only May”, he replied, digging deep into the box with films.

“Is Dream Lover out yet?”

“Yep”.

“We should watch it”.

“Later”, Kai said, throwing a film across the room and allowing it to crash into pieces. You hoped to hell it wasn’t Dream Lover.

“And Freddie Krueger?”

“No, not yet”.

“Damn it”, you looked over his shoulder.

“No Freddie Krueger!” he announced, “that’s it, she draws the line at Freddie. We’re leaving now”.

You laughed.

In the dark movie room, you could choose any row, any seats. You nested against each other, honoring the sacred cinema theatre tradition to gently touch in the twilight. While the action unfolded on screen, you had to shove popcorn into Kai’s mouth because it was the only way you could make him stop talking. When you ran out of popcorn, you had to shut him up with your mouth. It was a great week.)

You looked around the street and then, at Kai. How lucky he was, to find himself in this wretched place with someone as willing to play zombies as you were. You should do it more often. Maybe you should act out Mist next, somewhere in Houston.

You pulled your backpack up, and your eyes darted towards the black tower, ominous, insidious without any light, like a gigantic grave stone. Before Parker cut all the electricity, it was the Hancock Tower, now, it was just Tower. And the path to it lay through the dangerous city filled with brain craving monsters, bloodthirsty, dumb and ferocious, and you were running out of bullets. Besides, earlier on, you fell through one of the cardboard box forteresses and bruised your knee so badly, together with your left hand which you landed on. This adventure would be the death of you.

Kai twitched.

“I hear something”, he said, cocking his gun. You stood behind him, one-handed, unable to shoot. You closed your eyes. Lo, if they attack from all directions, you won’t be any help. A wounded companion is worse than an enemy in this world. You wondered if Kai would leave you alone to be eaten and stall them, or whether he’d shoot you in the head first, to spare you.

He walked on a little, entering a small square, and the black outlines of hairless, clotheless humans frightened you like you weren’t the one who had put them there ten hours earlier. They spooked you every time.

Kai shot three times, hitting each mannequin with one bullet.

“On the roof!” you pointed, turning back. You bowed as he threw up his shotgun, and fired. Heavy plastic body hopped and rolled down, falling on the ground. Kai could see in the dark so well you had to remind yourself he was human. Sometimes you would forget that fact completely. He was so different from everybody else.

He led you towards the tower where you stabbed one of the zombies in the throat. He was good at shooting, but you were very gifted with stabbing. You never missed.

“God damn”, Kai panted, as the mannequin swayed and collapsed on the asphalt just next to the glass door he was holding for you, “you saved my life”.

He took you in the movie gesture, pulling you into a long kiss. Your wrist started swelling and you had to take off your electronic watch temporarily. In the bleak room, it shone with green thin neon light from the bedside table while you had sex on the matrass.

In the middle of the night something fell off the roof, and scared the hell out of you - for real this time. You did not put anything on the top of the Tower since it was your fort. In the morning you came up on the top, while Kai went down and examined the object. Turned out, on the tenth of May, 1994, one single bag filled with files and staplers fell off the roof of the Hancock Tower. There was no way of knowing why.

“Wake up”.

You opened your eyes and rubbed your neck, aching from sleeping on the single mattrass on the floor. You looked out of the window. It has just stopped raining, which meant it was already close to midnight. In the dystopian Boston, you have switched to night regime of living completely because in the daylight, mannequins randomly standing in the streets looked simply stupid.

“The Titans”, he said. Kai’s face was so close to yours, you could feel the words on your skin. His eyes shone nervously.

“What Titans? It’s zombie apocalypse, Kai”.

He frowned.

“And what was Jeepers Creepers doing there then?”

“Oh my god”, you groaned, “let go of it already! You killed him like a week ago”.

“Come on, see for yourself”, he pulled you up, and you walked to the window, and gasped, instantly feeling for Kai’s hand. It couldn’t be happening.

That’s it! This madness finally drove you... mad.

There was an actual silhouette, the one you didn’t put there, and possibly couldn’t. The one that could not be put there for the life of you. The one of proportions too great for anyone to put it in the middle of the city, one foot on the right side of the river, and the other, on the left.

“What the fuck!” you yelled, your fright real as ever. Kai grinned happily, but then his face changed back to the philosophical expression of impending doom.

“This is it, Y/N. The zombies... and that dude... were just omens, but that’s it. The sky people have come to destroy us. It’s the end“.

“Seriously, Kai, how did you put it up... there?”

The sky was blackish-bordeaux, like usual. The river was seen just fine from here, from the top floor of the Tower. You had a pretty good look on the gloomy city and all its post-war industrial charm. The figure was so big it stood almost above the Tower itself; he reminded you of the Colossus of Rhodos, the Bronze Man, or one of the mythical golden gods of ancient times. You could actually feel your heart trying to break the hell out of your ribcage in a desperate attempt to kill itself. You couldn’t breathe for a second, mortified by the size of that thing. It was one of the deepest nightmares of your childhood, one of the visions haunting you from when you were little and kept dreaming about the end of the world.

You told Kai about those, and he now used them against you, but you appreciated the performance. It was all almost like art. It was horrifying and great, but you hated it.

“He came down from the clouds”, Kai said quietly, like a dispassionate narrator. Who already knows what’s coming, and doesn’t give a shit, because he’s already dead.

“To press the earth into the core of the planet, and make all life perish. He shall walk the land... waging his wrath on all that breathes. Including you and me”.

You made an effort to turn away, mesmerized by the statue, and looked at Kai.

“How much magic have you wasted on it?”

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t break the character, it takes me a lot of concentration”.

“Sorry”, you whispered.

“How do you feel about facing the end of the world with me?” he asked.

It was a damn good question. Parker really did ask all the right questions. After all the time in post-apocalyptic Boston, surrounded by enemy, living in a dark den and barely seeing the sun, it was very easy to actually sense the end coming. You clutched your own elbows, thinking. Strangely, you weren’t scared anymore.

A part of his face was in the shadow. He blinked the way you’ve only ever seen Kai blink, just a little, as if he didn’t want to lose visual even for a split second.

“I’m okay with it. I have lived a fine life, in my totalitarian city, guarded by robots and...”

“...zombies...”

“Hunted down by Harrison Ford...”

“You just jumble together all the movies, it’s actually insane, stop it”.

“But now as Cthulhu has sent its warriors...” (Kai rolled his eyes), “I’m ready to go”.

A lonely honk of a train cut through the distance making you feel melancholic. The trains were just crawling there day and night, filling the air with their lonesome cries occasionally. It would make any reasonable person go crazy, too.

“What will be the last thing you do before you die?” he whispered, his nose almost touching yours. You gave in, hot slow lava crawling up your body. You took Kai’s waist, trying to feel his ribs through three layers of clothing.

“You”.

He probably wore three or four shirts just to see you go nuts as you tried to undress him every time. His street jacket goes, then, a pullover, then a shirt, then another shirt, and you groan with anger as he chuckles at you, his hands snaking under your clothes at once. Your skin went shivering, covered with goose bumps under his fingers, like by magic.

As he pushed you against the wall, the gigantic Titan started melting above the river, looming shadow stepping away from the city, which was flattering. Kai’s whole mind was directed at you now.

You thought about how one loves at the brink of extinction; is it passionate, like when Kai grabbed your shoulder, your hair, pounding you into the floor, or is it gentle and thoughtful, like when you only moved your hips slowly, pressed against each other like two halves of Oreo, or is it impatient, breathless and vile, like when he was fucking you against the wall, talking all the way through your whimpering?

It took the end of the world for you to end up on his dick.