#i like to hate stalk too much so we don’t block a lot around here 💀 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nonbinaryeggrolls · 1 year

Text

Sweet Holy Honey pt. 4

Pt. 1, Pt. 2, Pt. 3, Pt. 4

Nanami Kento x POC!Reader

Synopsis: To keep up with bills you take up a part time job as a stripper/waitress at a gentlemans club in downtown Kyoto under the stage name "Honey". Most days you have to deal with your perverted boss, slobby and drunk old dudes, bachelors, ceos, and college assholes, but every now and then the special customer comes in. He wears a neat beige suit, blue button up shirt, and an unforgettable cougar print tie.

Warnings: SMUT, angst, emotional and physical abuse, cussing, drug use, slight yandere behavior but Nanami isn’t dangerous or violent towards Y/N just obsessed

A/N: This is a normal AU where Nanami and the rest of the JJK characters just have regular jobs/lives

A/N: Just a little note, when you see Y/N and other girls names being italicised it means it's not their real name, it's their stripper name

MINORS DNI. AGELESS AND MINOR BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

A/N: just a reminder, yandere and obsessive type situations should not be idealized in real life. in the next few chapters we will learn how Nanami knows Y/N so well, it involves events of stalking before meeting her at the bunny room. this story is purely for the sake of entertainment but you should NEVER tolerate something like this in the real world. protect yourself and recognize when a person is becoming too much or possibly dangerous.

What did he say?

You swear your hearing was damaged in some way, perhaps from the prolonged exposure to obnoxious club music, but your hearing was perfectly fine. The man you’d only gotten to know in passing glances, who’s name you haven’t even learned…asked you to leave with him.

Nanami: “I make money…a lot of it. I swear can give you everything you want in life, I promise I won’t— SWAT!

And just like that as quickly as they fell down, your walls built themselves back up and closed you off. You smacked Nanamis hand away as he was reaching to wipe the tear stains from your puffy cheeks, the lines in your forehead scrunched as you tried to fight back another mental breakdown.

Honey: “I said I have to go!” You whimpered, “I’ll never— I don’t want— just— uggh!” You’re palms smacked against the sides of your head, maybe doing so would rearrange the jumble of words into an order that made sense…but nothing made sense to you or Nanami. He watched in confusion, what was so hard about this? The life you currently lived was less than satisfactory if you went with him he could give everything you always wanted. What was holding you back?

Honey: “D-Don’t ever come back here, p-please. I won’t dance for you and I’ll make sure the other girls don’t either! No matter how much you pay, so stop wasting your e-efforts! Just leave me alone you fucking weirdo!” You wailed with both anger and confusion before taking off in a direction that didn’t even lead towards your apartment, only doing so to leave Nanamis sight as soon as possible. And once again he was alone. It seemed to be a reoccurring situation for him

The month went by as usual

Lowlifes and annoying frat boys popping in and out, the occasional suburban husbands spending they’re money they shouldn’t be spending it at, last Friday Bubblegum swore up and down that Chris Evans was one of her late night clients but no one can trust a damn thing that girl says. Overall it was the typical customers you’d usually see lurking around at 1 am. Everything was the same

Except there was no sign of Nanami

Of course you didn’t miss him though. Having him gone was just one less stress on your endless checklist, you were glad he finally took the hint and stopped giving you attention. Stopped making you feel a strange since if excitement every Wednesday night and a small feeling of anticipation every other weekday. A feeling like you mattered to someone in this world even if it was just a little bit…

No. You hated that man. At least that’s what you repeated to yourself in the club mirror every other hour whenever he popped into your head. Unfortunately you’ve never been the best at lying

Kota: “HONEY! Hurry up in here you have a special request!” He said barging through the bathroom door

Y/N: “FUCKING KNOCK KOTA WHAT IF I WAS FUCKING NAKED?!” you screamed at the scrawny man

Kota: “Yeah as if people like you care about being seen naked. ROOM 6 NOW!” He dragged you by your upper arm through the open lobby without even giving you a chance to adjust the top part of your bodysuit. Kota pushed you through the velvet curtain as you cradled your bare chest in your arms. Immediately you turned around and assured the customer you’d be ready in just a second, you cursed and fumbled to get your back zipper up before he spoke

Nanami: “Do you need some help?” A familiar silky voice filled your senses and made you still, “Your zipper is stuck in your hair, here let me—

Y/N: “I can fix it myself dude!” You ripped out the strands of hair that were logged in the zipper and tried to close up the rest of your latex ensemble only for it to get stuck again. You frantically tugged and pulled in the zipper until a pair of soft hands replaced yours on suit

Nanami: “Forcing it won’t help, just let me do it before you rip more hair out of your head”, He fiddled with the suit in a far more patient and gentle manner than you were.

Y/N: “You suck at listening, I told you I wasn’t gonna dance for you anymore. Why are you even here?”

Nanami: “Like you said I’m a bad listener and because…I meant what I said to you, I think you should leave this place. It’s filthy and vulgar, it’s no place for any woman to make a living at. Especially you” he managed to zip up your suit but you still remained turned away from him as he spoke, “…Im obsessed with you Honey we can both see that, but by that I don’t mean I want you to belong to me, I want you to belong with me.”

He ached to touch you, to hold you but he held himself back. The last thing he wanted to do was frighten you anymore than you already were

Nanami turned you around, blush painted on both cheeks of your face when he looked at you.

Nanami: “My offer still stands”, he reached in his jacket pocket and pulled out a small piece of folded paper, “This is my address, Come by tonight if you can. If you don’t, I’ll understand and I promise you won’t hear from me ever again.” He whispered, still keeping a safe distance to assure you weren’t pressured or intimidated

He folded the piece of paper into your hand, put back on his beige jacket, and left without another word

You let out a large exhale you didn’t know you were holding back

Y/N: “………..the fuck was that—

Midnight: “Knock Knock! Sorry to interrupt but do you have a lighter by any ch— you good girl? You look like you just shit yourself, what happened?”

Midnight: “Please tell me you’re not really going in there,” you both sat in the parking lot of the Hosu Loft Apartment Complex, “You picked a terrible place to get killed, a man with this much money is gonna have some A+ lawyers. He’ll probably get off with just community service”.

Y/N: “Would you shut up! I’m already nervous Yui!”

You got out after saying your goodbyes to Yui, but not before turning on your location and placing an AirTag inside your purse for extra safety. You headed towards the the front entrance, if the outside wasn’t already an indication of how upscale this place was then the lobby sure was. The eccentric water feature and diamond chandelier had to be worth more than everything you’ve purchased in your entire lifetime. You wondered to yourself how on earth anyone can make such money to live in a place like this, what kind of job does this man have?

Surgeon?

Yakuza weapons dealer?!!

Your intrusive thoughts panicked you and almost made you want to retreat but unknowingly you were already at his apartment door, you would have knocked but it appeared that the door was already unlocked so you let yourself in. It was dark inside, the moonlight peeping in through the window gave you enough vision for you to make you’re way through to the bathroom. You had been holding it in since work, you absolutely hate peeeing at their bathrooms, so you took advantage of the opportunity.

You scoffed in shock, even the bathroom was tastefully decorated. Linen hand towels and an Osaka landscape painting above the toilet. You were done admiring though,

If he isn’t awake then I might as well call Yui and go back home

You thought to yourself. You quickly finished up and wiped down the water spots you left on the sink from when you washed your hands but halted when you heard the hallway light turn on and a figure step in front of the doorway. It did cross your mind that you might be in the wrong apartment and that made your heart race with fear

Nanami: “I don’t see shoes at the doorway, manners are appreciated here”. He stated

You opened the door and stood face to face with a Nanami that looked like he had just woken up. He was shirtless with a pair of black sweatpants and hair like a birds nest. Just like always you gave an attitude to cover up how flustered you were, but it didn’t hide your beet red cheeks

Y/N: “Bite me dude. I’m still getting used to Japanese customs”, you countered, trying to remove your tightly laced converse.

Nanami: “It got so late I didn’t think you’d come by, c’mon I’ll warm you up the food I made”.

Within the next hour Nanami warmed you up a large helping of bulgogi and fried rice and a glass of lychee juice to wash it down. You spoke no words as he sat across from you, not that there weren’t any to say but because it been so long since you’ve had a meal that good, you barely took your head up away from the plate

He loved watching you indulge yourself, the way you swayed back in forth doing a little happy dance with each bite, how you let out small moans after swallowing, and how the lychee juice dribbled a little bit down your chin.

It made his cock twitch in his sweatpants

Nanami: “Full?”, you shook your head yes allowing him to take the plate to the kitchen sink

Y/N: “Thank you…” you said wiping the embarrassing amount of food off the side of your face

Nanami: “Kento…Nanami. I figure you being here means we’re on better terms now, we might as well start learning each other’s names.”

Y/N: “……..Y/N L/N, I don’t like to be called Honey outside work. It makes me feel gross” You mumbled

Nanami: “I hated saying it anyways…Y/N is a beautiful name” he replied

He made you blush of course but you were so tired of the middles school icebreaker type small talk

Y/N: “What do you want from me Nanami?”

He returned this time to a seat right beside yours

Nanami: “I’m a salaryman Y/N”, god he loved the way those letters rolled off his tongue, “I spend my days making money for those who already have it, and taking it from those who can’t afford to lose it. It’s a constant cycle of taking and quite honestly if I were to die or go missing no one would bat an eye, my company would just find another body to fill the gap. Perhaps that’s why it pays so well…”

Y/N: “Are-are you bragging right now?”

Nanami: “Not at all, you see because of what I do, because of how I live my life I have become someone with a of broken ‘a reason for living’. But there are times in my life where I feel like I gain that idea back, whether it’s through simple moments like finding the perfect bread shop, or daydreaming of Malaysia, or finding a good person. An actual good person… someone that’s always smiling even when they have no reason to.” he vented as if something like this had been weighing in his chest, waiting for the right person to release it to. Somewhere in the mist of his emotional venture you noticed a tear begin to prick from the inner corner of his eyes, unbeknownst to you it wasn’t because of sadness but because of his inability to say what he felt.

You moved in front of him on your knees, just as you did that one night at the bunny room but this time the intention behind it wasn’t lustful or sex driven, it was sentimental and moving. It felt right to grab his hand, you caressed his palm and moved it to your cheek. He swear he felt him self melt against your touch

Nanami: “Can you teach me to be a good person Y/N?” He begged

Y/N: “I’m far from good Nanami, I couldn’t teach you how to be one if I wanted to.”

Nanami: “Then we’ll learn together…”

He guided you back to his bedroom where you sunk into the softest mattress you’ve ever felt in your life, falling asleep felt effortless but you craved his warmth, more than you ever thought you would. Nanami hesitated when you motioned him over to lay beside you, scared that he might intimidate you in some way or scare you off. He couldn’t watch you run away from him, not again

Nanami: “I…I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I think it would be best if I slept on the couch”.

Y/N: “Nanami I know what I’m doing, please just hold me”, you insisted, the dreariness in your voice made your tone soft and irresistible, Nanami practically jumped to your side but still managed to maintain most of his composure

For the first time in a long time you were allowing goodness into your life. You deserved to feel content, to feel safe in someone else’s grasp, and when Nanami cradled your body into his chest you felt just that. It wasn’t like some cliché movie where they blab on about how his heartbeat matched to the rhythm of your own, no, Nanamis had its own unique tune. And slowly felt yourself drifting to sleep to his natural lullaby

Your body intertwined so well with his. He watched as you drifted to sleep, it was so cute how your eyelids fluttered as you dreamt. Nanami felt like he could admire you all night

But Nanami was hot.

White hot

Your shea butter smell. You’re soft skin. You thick thigh that wrapped across his waist. Your groin that pushed up against his hip as you jolted in your sleep. It was pushing him to the edge. He could feel his cock harden to an unbearable amount, he’d pushed the feeling down all night but he couldn’t fight it anymore. Making sure not to wake you he slowly released himself from your grasp, only growing more restless as he looked over your beautiful figure.

He felt like he was going to keel over when he finally made it to the bathroom and freed his aching cock from his sweatpants, it already was drenched in precum. He closed his eyes and leaned back against the tile wall and began to stroke.

There you were kneeled before him again, only this time your eyes were just as rabid as his as you took every inch of him in that pretty little month. You’d be eager to please him wouldn’t you? You’d beg for his cum like a good little slut?

Nanami: “Nggh fuck Y/N…AaaaAggh”, he whispered, he stroked faster and faster. He wanted you. He wanted to ruin that cute little pussy and make you cry on his cock, screaming his name over how good it hurt when his tip kissed your cervix, until he filled you to the brim with his hot seed. You’d take it all wouldn’t you?

Fuck Kento, please more…please put it deeper! He imagined your delicate voice cracking and scratching as you begged for more of him

Nanami: “Fuck yes baby say my fucking name, fuck, fuck Y/N… I’m gonna cum.” He put in his final few pumps, this time basically fucking into his hand pretending it was your tight cunt. He groaned louder than he meant to and released all over his hand, some of it shooting onto the sink in front of him

He opened his eyes and sighed, falling back down to a reality you weren’t in. He was tired of cumming in his fist like a lonely college boy, he wanted your walls to paint his seed with. But he’d never push any idea of it on you until he thought you were ready. Nanami is not an easy person to be with; he has his faults and at times they’re too great to ignore. Would you even want him if you saw the person he could be? The aloof, pessimistic, money obsessed scumbag that he has to be everyday?

He grabbed a wash clothed and dampened it to clean up his mess before joining you back in bed. It felt like pure heaven when he felt you cling back onto his body and Nanami was able to fall asleep with you, something he’d desired for so long and was now finally coming into fruition. It was pure bliss…

Nanami: “I’m gonna fuck this up aren’t I?”, he whispered

#nanami x y/n #nanami smut #nanami x black!reader #nanami kento #jujutsu nanami #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x reader #nanami angst #jjk headcanons #jjk smut #toji fushiguro #poc reader #nanami imagine #geto suguru #megumi fushiguro #yuji itadori #jjk imagines #jjk toji #nanami x you

88 notes · View notes

abyssal-ali · 3 months

Text

you knew the hero died, so what's the movie for?

Pairing: Gen Ao3 Masterlist

Rating: E for Extra Bad Mental Health WC: 2.2k

Summary:

Babs finds some footage of Jason acting strangely and calls in the Bats to help her figure out what's up with Jason.

TW: Suicidal Ideation/Passive Suicidal Thoughts, Implied/Referenced Depression, Major Character Death/Major Character Undeath

A/N: (Yes, I'm fine<3) Title from hoax by TS. I love the Immortal Jason Todd theories but I also think he'd have a lot of Thoughts and Feelings about death and life after the first time. (Also don't worry, there is a happy ending.)

Barbara Gordon spun on her chair’s wheels to face the Bats. The whole clan, minus one, were admitted to her domain after her special request.

“Why could you not send us the footage?” asked Batman, his voice not so raspy with the modifier turned off.

“It’s safer here. This is extremely delicate information here, and I cannot have it fall into the wrong hands somehow.”

The Bats exchanged glances at Oracle saying she didn’t want to risk this being hacked. Her finger hovered over the play button on her large screen.

“I hacked Hood’s helmet just after he ducked out of patrol to tell him I’d received info I thought he might want to know for a case he’s on. He was speaking, but it didn’t seem like a call or voice-to-text, and the security cam from the alley he was in doesn’t show anyone or anything. The context is weird and the whole situation is…disturbing.”

Babs finally played the CCTV footage after her explanation, showing a typical Gotham alleyway, Red Hood’s large shape the only figure visible as he walked normally into it from around the corner.

His steps stutter, then his whole being seems to lose tension as he walks further in, his shoulders curling inwards slightly. “Now?”

A pause, then, “What is it this time? I haven’t decided what I wanted to cross off my list this time.”

He leans against the wall, one foot propped on the rough brick casually as he tosses a knife through the air, always catching it by the handle. After a couple seconds of seeming silence, he turns abruptly, his posture tensing. “I just want quiet, is that too much to ask?!”

He calms, then continues, “I don’t hate you, D. It’s your sister. She always interrupts and it’s gotten really old. You…can either stop flirting with me or do somethin’ ‘bout Elle. She keeps bringin’ me back down…”

He sheathes his knife and shifts into an offensive stance. “I was at peace, D! I’m just…so…tired…” His voice trails off, revealing the weakness his family has never picked up in him.

After a moment, he relaxes back into his slump against the wall. “We’re running outta options. Explosions, blunt force trauma, asphyxiation, suffocation, smoke inhalation, drowning, exsanguination, jugular sliced, cardiac arrest, hypothermia, electrocution…” He ticks off his fingers. “I’m immune to most poisons and toxins, so they’re out, medication burns through me too quickly…” Another pause.

“I can’t just run off with you, D. They’re detectives, and any explanation they’ll believe is falsified, and they’ll pointlessly search space and time. I’m not gonna spark PTSD and make them sad. Oh! We haven’t tried decapitation yet, we could recreate Dickens’ scene…or there’s my personal favourite, you kidnap me in my sleep. Sounds peaceful….NOT THAT I WOULD KNOW ABOUT PEACE!”

The watching Bats flinched at the sudden outburst from the dejected Hood they were wrapping their minds around.

On the screen, he waves at air, then turns on his heel and stalks out of the alley, heading somewhere else.

Babs’ trackers showed everyone in the Clocktower, and one red dot at a known safehouse of Jason’s a few blocks from the alley.

Babs turned to the Bats.

“Hmm,” Batman mused.

“Ambiguous,” decided Nightwing. “You didn’t pick up any interference, magical or alien?”

“No. Everything is clear,” replied Babs, spinning back to her computer to run more scans on the footage.

“I hate one-sided conversations,” said Spoiler, staring thoughtfully at the frozen image of Red Hood walking out of the alley.

“Who’s this ‘D’ he’s talking to?” demanded Red Robin. “He usually only calls Dick ‘D’, and even then it’s rare. And Dick doesn’t know about this.”

Batgirl got the others’ attention. “Jason is hurt. Always. Not from fighting.” She thought for a moment. “Heart-hurt. Always tired. This is…tired, but relieved.”

“Hmm,” said Batman again.

Two days later, Nightwing and Red Robin knocked on Jason’s door. He’d managed to instill the basic modicum of manners in them with careful traps, a fair amount of glitter, and occasionally a minor wound or two. When he didn’t answer after two tries, and Babs reassured them through their comm link that his tracker was still pinging from that location, they let themselves in.

The first thing they found was Jason, dead in his bed.

In shock, confusion, and grief, the Bats were notified, confirmed it was truly Jason and not some elaborate scheme to fake his death for some Jason-only-knew reason, and taken back to the Cave to prepare him for burial. Again.

To their great surprise, Talia al Ghul marched into the Cave and swept past all their baffled questionings to the table Jason lay on, more peaceful in death than they’d ever seen in life.

She carefully scrutinized him, then sighed and put her hand on his.

“Don’t touch him,” Bruce snapped, looking worse than he had in years.

Talia removed her hand after a slight hesitation, turning to face the grieving Bats. “Before you bury Jason, please wait one more day.”

“Why?”

“You do remember what happened last time you buried him,” she reminded them flatly.

With a grunt, Bruce agreed to wait 18 more hours, looking over at his son’s body every few moments from the tea Alfred was forcing him to drink.

The Bats were quietly mourning their brother, son, grandson, friend, tormentor, coworker, rival, saviour when a loud stream of swearing shocked them out of their grief.

“NOT AGAIN?! WHY?! WHAT THE FUCKING HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!?!” Yelled one very alive Jason Todd, sitting straight up and looking as pale as a ghoul.

He slipped off the table, stumbling towards the group in zombie-like motions, collapsing into Talia’s waiting arms. “Tals? Why’re ya’here?”

“To stop your idiotic, grieving, well-meaning family from hastily burying you again.”

“Oh, thanks.”

The still-stunned bats slowly gathered around the hugging duo. Talia dragged Jason over to the cot in the medbay and forcing him onto his side. “Stay still until you’re better. You should know better, habibi.”

“But my mom was here, I had to hug her,” he grinned crookedly up at Talia, who was unimpressed.

Still, she smiled softly at him, running her fingers through his hair. “Just lie still. 15 minutes on every side.”

“This ain’t my first rodeo, Tals,” he grunted, but stay where she left him.

Tim opened his mouth and Talia turned her fierce glare on him. With one motion, she directed them all away from Jason to the debriefing area, where he was still within sightline, but wouldn’t be disturbed by their sure-to-be-invasive questions.

“How did he die?” she asked them, looking sternly at Bruce.

“I don’t know.” He collapsed into a seat, staring at Jason blankly. “Oracle showed us a concerning video she found with Hood, we went to his safehouse…and found him…peaceful, in his bed. A little smile on his face,” he choked out.

Talia sighed, glancing back at Jason.

“Why are you here?”

“Mother’s intuition,” she shrugged. “Something was very wrong with him. I was worried, so I came.”

“T, I can deal with them,” called Jason. “I’m a big boy, I can handle their need for privacy invasion.”

Talia sighed but relaxed from her gatekeeping stance, letting the Bats crowd Jason’s bed again.

“How dare you alive again? You were definitely dead,” blurted Tim.

“Life and I have a mutual hate for each other,” said Jason cryptically. “And Death and I are kinda close.”

“How did you die?” asked Dick, quietly horrified.

“Oh, D was really accommodating–I was asleep this ti-”

“‘D’ is Death?!”

“Yeah, I call Death ‘D’, so what? You all have nicknames. And like I said, this ain’t my first rodeo, We’re tight, she likes me.”

“Ethopia…” remembered the Bats awkwardly.

“Why are you lying down?” asked Steph as Jason shifted to his front, turning his head to watch his family.

“I can’t lie on my back for longer than a few second because of PTSD. And my heart hasn’t been pumping for…awhile, so blood flow ain’t the best right now.

“First, there’s numbness, like when your leg’s fallen asleep, only full-body.

“Then, prickles of pain as all your muscles and circulatory system start up.

“Third, your brain’s fuzzy from lack of oxygen and bloodflow, so you spill your deepest darkest secrets to your needlessly nosy family because some twisted part of you feels guilty for putting them through your death again. That last part might just be me, though.

“Fourth, I’m tired and I want to sleep, so ask T or wait for me to wake up. Trust me, I will,” he grumbled. “Oh, you may wanna shock me a li’l bit to make sure my heart’s started properly again. Sometimes it needs a bit of a tune-up to make sure it’s good as new.”

“Why do you sound like this happens regularly?!” Dick demanded.

“It does.” Jason closed his eyes, turning his head to the other side.

Talia shooed the murmuring Bats back to let Jason rest in peace (consciously).

A couple hours later, Jason sat up again, with more colour to his skin and smoother movements. Talia carefully supported him, leading him to a chair and mug of steaming hot chocolate.

The disturbed bats gathered around him until he looked up with a grimace at them. “I’m fine, okay? Why are you even so worried?”

“No, you’re not fine! You were dead, again, and now you aren’t, and you’re acting like this happens every week!”

Jason shrugged. “Done it enough it feels like it. Don’t worry, I get better quicker the more often it happens; you’ve never noticed."

“You died the first time in Ethiopia?”

Jason nodded.

“And it took…six months for you to come back? This was…24 hours or less. So how often have you died, and what’s the exponential rate?” demanded Tim.

Jason shrugged again. “Dunno. Based on past times…” he trailed off, looking to Talia.

“With this one, it should be about twenty hours until his resurrection the next time.”

“Why were you even looking for me?”

“I hacked your comms when you were, apparently, talking to Death, and I brought the CCTV footage from that alley to their attention,” reasoned Babs, pulling his free hand into hers and squeezing it gently. “Why would you not tell us about this? We were worried sick about you after we saw that! And then you disabled your tracker, and it took me ages to find your last ping and find your new safehouse!”

“Sorry,” he mumbled into his mug.

“So you were actually talking to Death? Who is…apparently a person…being?” asked Steph.

“Yep, she’s cool. I’m her favourite repeat customer,” he joked. It fell flatter than one of Bruce’s pancakes.

“You sounded happy to see D,” said Cass, watching him closely.

“Yeah, she’s a lot nicer than her bitch of a sister, Life. She keeps bringing me back,” Jason bemoaned under his breath.

“You don’t want to come back?” Dick asked sadly, inching closer.

“Not really. It’s peaceful being dead. Being alive is so…tiring,” he sighed, leaning his head back and gently placing his mug down.

“Habibi,” Talia said thickly, running her fingers through his hair again.

“But…but you talked down that jumper last week!” pointed out Tim.

“So?”

Cass rewound the footage Babs had played them, playing a section back for the others on the Batcomputer. “I’m not gonna spark PTSD and make them sad.”

“‘Sad’ is…a wrecked car. Replaceable. ‘Grief’ is you dead. We cannot replace you. We are not sad for you. We grieve for you.”

At Cass’s revelation, the Bats’ heads swiveled between Jason and the screen.

“Little Wing…do you think we would grieve you less than the first time?”

Jason didn’t answer, picking up his mug to see if there were any dregs left.

Talia laid her hand on his shoulder. “Why are you still the Red Hood, habibi? No one is forcing you to. You became the Red Hood to antagonize Batman*. You’ve done that, moved past it. Move on, don’t just give up.”

A strange look crossed Jason’s face at Talia’s face. His eyes darted to a harrowed-looking Bruce, then back to the depths of his mug. “Thanks, T.”

Red Hood retired, Jason choosing to hand the reins of his crime bossing business over to his trusted lieutenants as he moved to Europe, entering Oxford to pursue a secondary education.

One or another of his family members were more often than not flying to and from his flat to remind him how much they loved and valued him.

Talia visited him often, making sure that he knew just how much the other side of his chosen family also cared for him. She introduced him to a therapist that was accustomed to dealing with clients with more confidential matters than usual.

Gradually, Jason healed and discovered his personality aside from ‘anti-hero crime-boss vigilante’. He pursued therapy as a career, becoming a therapist and mentor to the Justice League and its associates, specifically the sidekicks and teen heroes.

The twenty-hour resurrection rule wasn’t needed for several more decades.

*****

A/N2:

*Yes, I'm aware he also wanted to change Gotham in a way that Batman couldn't/wouldn't etc, but I couldn't get into the nuances there.

Jason has canonically died several times, including the time Bruce stopped his heart (don't ask me for canon references, I don't touch those things with a 10-foot pole) but as I was editing this fic, I decided to go the good/semi-decent dad Bruce route instead; Jason's hurt enough, so you'll only find one small easter egg about that. I also left out the line about the slit throat from the Batarang Bruce threw in UtRH, which I am firmly convinced hurt Jason more than was shown in canon.

I got the inspiration for Jason dealing with post-mortem/post-resurrection stiffness etc from a fic but I can't remember which one. Possibly Who I Am. Who I'll Never Be by Zootopon?? If you find one, feel free to lmk.

Jason is depressed and isn't very objective about the Batfam, and even though they're on fairly good terms in this fic, they're still emotionally consitpated Bats and Jason's a good actor; they're not thinking to reassure him they love him and want him, and he's sure not gonna outright ask for reassurance. As someone with depression (not speaking for everyone, just drawing on my own experience), it really makes you feel like even those you love most and who love you most don't actually. It's hard to ask for confirmation of their love, and especially with dynamics like the Batfam/Jason have, that complicates matters further. If you're reading this and you don't somehow have Issues, learn from this and face your feelings.

#jason todd #ali writes #immortal jason todd #fic #tw: sucidal thoughts #tw: death #tw: depression

6 notes · View notes

subpar-ghoulfriend · 3 years

Text

Let’s have a baby

yandere!EraserMicx PREGNANT!Reader

A terrible mix up leading to an accidental pregnancy? Or something more intentional? Either way now you were pregnant with (none other than the beloved power couple heroes) Eraserhead and Present Mic’s child. Time to discuss how co parenting is going to work.

TW: pregnancy, artificial insemination, yandere elements, mentions of stalking, alludes to potential custody battle

You had been avoiding the two men for the past week, which was challenging seeing as they managed to find your phone number, address, and place of work. Any time you blocked their calls they got a new number. Two Pro Heroes versus a twenty something civilian, it was only a matter of time until you were cornered.

Now the couple stood between you and your apartment. You had a long shift at your job as a pet groomer and just wanted to get some rest.

Present Mic was the first to speak. "Hey lil momma, we heard you had work today so we brought you some dinner. We thought we could talk over a nice meal."

You had no response. You were tired, both physically and emotionally. You had been put through the ringer ever since meeting them at your doctors office. It was a total Jane the Virgin situation. You went in for an assessment about some supposed ovarian cysts and unknowing left artificially inseminated. There was a supposed mix up, a digital glitch that somehow merged your chart with the surrogates - apparently your names were super similar. Two weeks later you were called back into the doctor's office and informed of what took place. And now you were in this living nightmare.

And the two heroes had nothing to do with the error. There was totally a surrogate. They hadn't paid off your provider. And why would they? You had never met them - although given their patrols they may have seen you once or twice...

They were tearful when they were informed of the mix up, they had been waiting patiently through the whole process and now everything was thrown in chaos. They offered to compensate you for your service which sent you into a blind rage. They just assumed you would carry a child, a child with half of your DNA, and then give YOUR baby away. Rationally you understood that they had planned to be be the only parents to the child, but that was with a professional surrogate who understood the process, who didn't want the child in their life, just happy to help out a loving couple. But that wasn't you, you grew up wanting to be a mom, and now they would take that from you.

What if they tried to legally take sole custody of the baby? Surely they had some pull in the judicial system. Besides, they were a solid couple with money, while you were alone with no family and working two jobs. The thought made you sick to your stomach.

You were shaking as you tried to push past them. Maybe they would just disappear if you ignored them, a girl could dream. But instead they tagged along inside. Albeit you weren’t fighting them on it, you knew this had to happen eventually.

Aizawa easily found the cluttered dining table in your small apartment. You flinched when the loud one tried to help you shrug off your backpack. Taking a seat on the couch you waited for them to start berating you.

"Come sit at the table, dinner is getting cold," Eraser spoke for the first time.

"I'll eat later, I'm not hungry."

"You may not be, but the baby needs to eat."

You glared, how dare they insinuate you didn't know what your child needed. If your body was hungry, you ate. If you were full the baby was full too.

But, you complied, not wanting to argue, "Fine, but I ate a snack not too long ago."

As you ate, Mic kept you company, picking at some left overs, they clearly ate before their visit. Aizawa was rummaging through your place but you managed to hold your tongue until he began throwing things out of your fridge.

"What are you doing?" You hissed, getting up out of your seat.

"Mic and I will bring you groceries tomorrow. The food you have is barely safe for an adult, let alone a fetus."

"Are you kidding me? It's not like I'm chugging alcohol and living off Twinkies. Hey! I just bought those turkey slices. How is turkey bad?" You whined.

To make sure you wouldn't dig the food out trash he dumped it out of his container.

"Zashi, don't let me forget to empty the trash on our way out. Do you know how much salt is in deli meat? And there's no way you can drink any of this while you're pregnant." He gestures to the cans of soda.

As the frustration built you had to fight back tears. They couldn't come in to your home and start throwing out your things.

"Some of us don't make ridiculous money, I'm buying what I can afford and the doctor never had any problem with my health." You hissed.

Hizashi felt the tension thickening, "Hey hey hey, it's okay. Sho and I will go get you some good stuff. We just gotta watch out for you and baby."

And that was the end of your resolve, you stomped past the Hero and locked yourself in your bedroom. Finally tears began to drip down your cheeks.

Back in your kitchen Mic was chiding his boyfriend for being so tough on you.

"So I should just back down while she stuffs herself with junk food?"

Mic gave him a shrug, showing him a bottle on your counter, "At lest she's taking her prenatal vitamins?"

Grabbing the keys to your apartment Aizawa instructed Mic to wait with you while he got you better groceries. He would make copies of your keys on his was back.

You prayed they would leave soon. You were laying in your bed having cried yourself out. Barely into your second month of pregnancy. You still had to endure this for at least seven more months, but most likely much longer.

Next thing you knew you were opening your eyes and the clock read seven AM. By now your uninvited guests must be gone. Nervously you sat up, praying that you'd skip the morning sickness just once this week. You had always had a weak stomach and even the doctor was surprised you were already experiencing the symptom. Unfortunately the minute your feet touched the floor you knew what was coming. You sprinted to the restroom, not even checking to see if the duo had left.

God this was terrible, you didn't just hate throwing up, you were terrified of it. What if you started and never stopped? But it did come to an end. You wiped the water from your eyes and took a moment before standing from the floor. You screamed when a hand slid under your arm, helping you up. Another set of feet rushed to the bathroom.

" What's wrong?" Hizashi huffed as he skid to a stop.

You pulled arm free from Aizawa's grasp. "What are you two still doing here?"

You turned in the faucet to rinse your mouth. Trying to calm your stress, the nausea was trying to return.

Undeterred the scruff pulled your hair into a bun before rubbing your back. You debated returning to bed but that wouldn't get them out of your apartment. You told them you need to sit down, both of them nodding, still wearing their concerned expressions. They got you a glass of water before joining you on the couch. Stubborn men, you sat at the end of the couch so they couldn't both sit, but Mic decided to perch himself on the armrest.

He started petting your hair, "You feelin better little listener?" You nodded in response.

"I got you more food, let us know if your hungry."

You sighed in defeat, "I'm barely two months pregnant, I can fend for myself. What did you all want to talk about?"

You anxiously placed a hand on your stomach. Both men felt their hearts flutter recognizing your maternal instincts kicking in.

Aizawa let Mic begin, he was the more gentle of the two.

"Well, we figured we got off to a rough start. You got put in a tough situation. We shouldn't have assumed you didn't want a child so we're not mad at how you stormed out. But either way we expect to be in our baby's life. The two of us talked it over and we don't want to fight you if you want to be in their life too. So if you wanna be the mommy we're cool with it."

You could blame your reaction on your hormones for your response but you didn't, "Geez thank you so much for allowing me to be in MY child's life."

Aizawa placed a hand on the back of your neck, giving you a gentle massage. "Okay then, the three of us are gonna have a baby. That means you have to stop ignoring us. We can raise the baby together, without involving anyone else. But if we have to, we can always go the legal route for the baby's best interest."

He knew it was a low blow, but the couple needed you to stop fighting them. Your eyes snapped to his and you shook your head in protest.

"Okay then we're all the same page," Aizawa reassured you.

Mic cheered, "Now we can focus on the fun stuff."

"Hun," Eraserhead caught his attention. "There's still a few more important things to figure out. We don't want you going back to that doctor. They're incompetent. We scheduled you an appointment with another's clinic for next week. Okay?"

You couldn't find your voice after how easily he threatened to take your baby. So you just nodded. Half listening.

"Good. We also went ahead and programmed our numbers into your phone. We need to be able to check in with you."

"Okay, but I can't use my phone at one of my jobs."

"About that lil momma," Mic started. "You work a lot, which is totally bad ass, but we don't think you leave enough time to rest and take care of yourself."

You tried to protest but Aizawa cut you off, "You also shouldn't be working around so many animals. Even though we love animals, they can be unpredictable and one dog can trigger all the rest into a frenzy."

You were dumbfounded, "I've never heard of anything like that happening. One of my coworkers was pregnant last year, she worked until her maternity leave. Plus I need to be able to pay my bills. And don't offer to compensate me again."

"Why do you have to view it as compensation? We just want to take care of the mother of our child. Just think about it. Mic and I have to go take care of some business but we'll be back later this week."

---

Back at their home Hizashi was dramatically splayed on their bed.

"Babe why are you pouting?" Aizawa asked.

"Why can't we just bring her home already?"

Aizawa sympathized with his better half, but they needed to be methodical. He reminded Hizashi that they didn't need to cause her even more stress, especially so early into the pregnancy. If they played their cards right they would have their happy little family soon enough.

If they could ease you in to the relationship everything would be easier in the long run. They had been managing just fine until now, they could wait a few more months.

He joined Hizashi on the couch. Mic was comforting himself the way he usually did when he felt like this. He was scrolling through the countless photos they had collected since their chance encounter with you over a year ago.

#bnha yandere #yandere erasermic #yandere x reader #yandere present mic #yandere aizawa

773 notes · View notes

barnes-n-nobles · 3 years

Text

Youre My Path (SMUT)

Yandere Bucky being crazy, possessive, and DARK!

TW-Mentions on non-con, drugging, stalking, and overall dark behavior. A little bit of knife play as well.

Smut SMUT SMUT

Let me know what y’all think

Today was just another boring ordinary day. You had to go to the store and stock up on some groceries that you had been planning on getting but you lacked the will power to do so. You opened your phone and looked at the time. Ugh, I need to go before they close you thought to yourself as you managed to peel yourself off of your comfy sofa. You got ready and headed towards the nearest super market.

Lately youve been having some weird feelings, as if someone is constantly watching you. You always shake it off though, because nothing ever happens to you. You always get home safe and sound. Today was a little more intense though, as if you could almost hear someone breathing behind you when you were walking to the store. Relieved to have made it inside, you grabbed your cart and started your trip through the empty isles of the store. You loved and hated to come at night, it made you feel at peace knowing there there wouldn’t be annoying ass kids and angry moms yelling at them to behave. No people blocking the isles with their carts and most importantly, no need to run into someone you knew. The only reason you hated it, was because you didn’t want to get kidnapped and left for dead.

As you made your way to the bread isle, you had that feeling again. You felt like someone was behind you, you stopped dead in your tracks to see if anyone would walk past you. You pretended to look at the merchandise and you slowly turned around to see if there was anyone there. You looked both ways, and sure enough there was nothing. You rolled your eyes and kept it moving. As your trip started coming to an end you decided to stop by the makeup isle, needing a couple of items that you would use for your upcoming date.

Usually you didn’t try this hard but you figured you would give it a shot. All the past times you went on dates they would disappear after your first date. You weren’t sure if it was because you didn’t try hard enough or if they simply weren’t feeling your vibe. As your mind trailed off you accidentally ran into another person with your cart, completely snapping you out of your mind. A broad man, fell to his knee. “Oh my god!!! I’m so sorry. Are you ok? God I’m so clumsy please forgive me” you said frantically as you started to help him up. He lifted his head up to meet your gaze, big blue eyes % bore%% into your own. Your eyes started to trail from his eyes, to his lips, and up again to his perfectly sculpted face. You were mesmerized, you had never seen such a handsome man. “It’s okay, don’t worry about it, y/n” he said quickly getting up and walking off with a visible smirk on his face. You scrunched your eyebrows in confusion, knowing damn well he did not just say your name. You werent exactly sure if your mind was playing tricks on you or if he really said what you think he had said. You got up quickly, still in shock but hoping that it was really your mind playing tricks on you. Hesitantly you continued to shop, even though there was a little voice in your head telling you to get the hell out of that store.

Bucky POV

FUCK she’s so beautiful, he thought to himself. The way you stared at him, it was clear you wanted him the way he wanted you. This was the moment that he had been waiting for ever since he laid eyes on you. He had never been this close to you, it was like a dream come true. You smelled like candy, your beautiful e/c eyes meeting his. Just how he had imagined but better. The way you apologized made him hard. Just think of how submissive my y/n will be to me mmmm I’m going to devour her in every way possible he thought to himself, smirking.

Bucky ran into you at a coffee shop near your house. It was love at first sight for him. He watched you interact with your friends, smile, laugh, and it was like a match made in heaven for him. He knew he needed you to smile for him, laugh for him, and live for him. He followed you home that night. Making sure you wanted to be safe, of course. But his monthly visits turned to weekly and then turned to daily. He eventually managed to get into your home. You left a space key under your mat, and he felt so happy yet disappointed that you would endanger yourself like that. “When we live together, I’ll make sure you don’t make silly mistakes like this” he said to himself as he got into your home.

He went through your house just browsing, seeing if anything interesting caught his eye. He then made it into your room and continued to look through your things. He found your panties next to your bed and quickly grabbed them and put him in his picked for him to enjoy later. He also took some pictures of you, to also enjoy later.

You were his new routine and he enjoyed every second of it. As time went on he would keep tabs on you, absolutely hating it when you went on dates. He was consumed with jealousy and couldn’t believe anyone would dare lay a finger on you. He knew that this would not fly and he had to make sure to get rid of any roadblocks that got in his way. Bucky murdered them and everytime he did he felt relieved, almost happy knowing that he was that much closer to you.

After his encounter with you, Bucky walked off into the parking lot, one car over from yours, slipping into the drivers seat. His mind started to go wild. He needed you so badly. He wished he could have taken you right then and there. How he wished he could be inside you, your soft moans begging him to make you feel good. His cock soon started to throb at the thought of you. He leaned back in his seat taking a pair of your panties out from his pocket. He brought them to his nose and inhaled deeply, moaning as he exhaled. “Fuck Y/n...you make me so horny...I’m going to fuck the shit out of you when you’re here baby just you wait”.

Wasnt long before he pulled out his dick, stroking it hard. His hips bucking into his hand wishing it was your pussy. He started to think about how beautiful your pretty mouth would be around his dick, how good your tongue would feel swiveling around his tip. Just as he was about to cum, he stopped. He growled and threw his head back lowly moaning your name. “Fuck...I cant take this anymore. I need her” He quickly tucked himself back in and relaxed.

All you could think about was how that guy knew your name. It kept replaying in your head and it didn’t make sense. You headed to your car and started to load everything in. “Hello my Y/n” you heard someone say in a low deep voice. You quickly turned around, your heart starting to beat a little faster. “Umm. Do I know you?” You asked. Bucky sighed and started to walk towards you. “Not yet doll but you will” a smirk on his face once again. You backed up as he took steps forward. “Don’t come any closer, or I’m calling the police”.

Bucky pressed himself against your body, his hands snaking their way to your hips. His face now pressed against your neck. “No you wont Princess, I know you like this. I can tell by the way that you’re breathing that you want me to keep going” his low voice going straight to your core. “N-no please...stop I ..” you tried pushing him off but you started to feel so weak. You had not noticed that Bucky had used something to drug you. All you felt was your body going limp and you falling into his arms.

Bucky smiled as you fell into him, placing a soft kiss on your temple. He noticed that someone was coming over so he quickly pressed your body to your car, and grabbed your face, kissing you. The person walking, walked a little faster as they were feeling a little awkward. Perfect he thought to himself. He placed you into the back to his car, resting your head to a pillow he had just bought and covering you with his sweater. He quickly drove off, leaving all your things by your car.

Your eyes opened, your head pounding. Wherever you were it was dark but comfortable. You groaned as you started to fully wake up, slowly sitting up. Your left hand felt heavy, you tried pulling it and you heard a chain. You yanked your hand hard again, making a loud sound. Bucky heard the noise coming from your guy’s room and he smiled and quickly got up making his way to you.

“Baby you’re awake now” Bucky excitedly said

“What’s going on..why are you doing this to me, where am I?”

“You’re home doll, with me”

“But I don’t know you” you cried softly

“My name is James Buchanan Barnes, but you can call me Bucky. I’ve been looking after you for a while now and it’s been a pleasure but I'm so glad that I finally have you all to myself, just how it was always meant to be”

He started to get on the bed climbing towards you. You backed up as he came towards you, your back was now against the wall, pinning yourself between the cold wall and his broad body. His hand going to the back of your neck, bringing you close to him, your lips almost touching his.

“I’ve waited a life time for this, to have you here with me. You make me crazy and I would sacrifice the world for you. Now that you’re all mine, I won’t ever loose you” he closed the gap between you two, his lips desperately locking into yours. Kissing you passionately, he was hungry and desperate. You turned your head to the side, breaking the kiss.

“This isn’t the way Bucky, this isn’t right. You need to let me go” you begged. Bucky smiled and looked down moving back away from you. It made you feel relieved that he was not too mad due to your actions. He slowly got up from the bed and went over to his dresser, rummaging through some things.

“Bucky...maybe we are in different paths right now, maybe in the future we will be together but now right now, not like this...please Bucky listen to me”, hoping that he would have a little sympathy, you used his name to make it more personal.

“You know , y/n...just because you say we are on different paths doesn’t mean it’s true” he grabbed something and started to walk towards you again. This time his metal arm reached out to pull you by your leg to the edge of the bed, giving you whiplash. He quickly climbed on top of you, pinning your arms above your head with his metal arm and pulling out a syringe with his other hand.

You quickly started to wiggle around trying to get him off you. Shaking your head, “no no please stop no”. Buckys eyes had a hint of madness to them, dark and disturbing. “Don’t worry these don’t hurt, it will make you feel better I promise”. He quickly injected it to you and you soon started to feel get hot, with a tingling sensation “This will loosen you up a bit, it’ll make you relax so that we can enjoy eachother baby”

His lips made their way onto your neck, kissing and licking you all over. Your heart started to race, your eyes closing, soft moans escaping your lips, “n-no..” Bucky grunted as his erection started to press against your clothed pussy. His hips bucking forward, dry humping you. He lowered down to your ear, whispering, “ cant you see what you do to me. You’re so sexy and sensual you’re almost making me cum in my pants with your adorable moans, my love. As much as love to hear you right now, I want you to moan and scream my name y/n...begging me to fuck you harder”

All his words, combined with his dry humping made you soaking wet. As much as you hated this you couldn’t help but moan louder. His cock pressing against you was not enough and you needed more. You tried your hardest to resist, “G-get a..way f-from me..” you managed to choke out, trying to not moan anymore and trying to push him off with your body. Suddenly Bucky got angry. Hating how you were fighting him. He tore off your thin leggings in a fast single motion, revealing your soaked panties. He took out his knife and pressed it against you, earning a frantic gasp but you stopped moving. “Stop fighting me doll, for your own good because I swear I will fucking destroy you. I’ve waited too long for this, don’t push me because you won’t like the way I punish you.But......if you behave I’ll make sure to take care of you..real good care darling” he said as his knife traced your body. He grabbed your shirt roughly and ripped it off, slicing your bra open as well.

His mouth watered at the sight of your delicious breasts, making his cock twitch with excitement. His knife trailed down to your panties, making you whimper. “You’re so delicious kitten, I’m going to fuck you so hard. I cant wait till my cock is right in here” he motioned and tapped your clit with his knife. He roughly grabbed them and ripped them open instantly. He threw his knife to the side and quickly started to rub your clit making your back arch with your eyes closed. Your moans now filling up the room. Bucky smiled and took one of your nipples into his mouth, making you quiver and move your hips down into his hand. “Mmm, I knew you wanted this..wanted me...only me” he growled against your chest. “F-fuck Bucky...keep going please”. You hated yourself for saying that but you couldn’t help it, you were in pure ecstasy.

Just as you were about to reach your orgasm, he removed himself from you. Making you whine and buck your hips up, wanting and needing his touch once again. “Don’t worry kitten, I’m not done with you yet”. He quickly undressed and positioned himself at your entrance, rubbing his tip on your clit, making you mewl. “Tell me what you want doll...tell me what you want from me” he coaxed. You didn’t answer, as you were too embarrassed to say anything. His metal hand went to your neck, squeezing it hard. “Tell me y/n..tell me what you want NOW” he yelled, releasing his grip from your throat.

“Fuck me Bucky...please” you finally said. “I don’t think I heard you doll, say it loud and clear”. “FUCK ME BUCKY PLEASE I NEED YOU...PLEASE”. You finally broke. You needed him now, there was nothing in the world you wanted more than to have his cock inside of you, his lips on your skin and his hands all over you. You were finally filled with his big cock slipping in and out of your wet pussy. His hands on your neck, choking you but not too hard like before. His hips snapping in and out of you making your body shake.

“Such an obedient slut, MY obedient slut. I’m going to break you and bend you to my will. Making you all mine. I’ll make you crave my touch, my attention, my voice. You’re going to live only for me, doll. Only for me” he growled as he pounded into you, rubbing your clit making you loose it. He then started to feel you reach your end, making him moan, “cum on my dick baby...cum for me. Let go” he cooed as he angled himself to reach into you deeper. That’s when you felt your orgasm hit you, your body started to shake, waves of pleasure surging through your body. “Mmm Buckyyyy” you moaned. Making him loose it as well, he coated your insides in his thick warm cum. Pumping himself in and out slowly. Gasping for air.

Fuck he was such a God, he made you want more of him. It was the first night and you were already going crazy for his touch. You wanted him to keep going keep doing you however he wanted, but most importantly to keep pleasuring you. Bucky finally pulled out and laid next to you, looking at your beautiful face. He brought his lips to yours and gave you a soft kiss. “The drug hasn’t worn off baby, don’t think this is over. We’re going until we cant no more, doll.” He said against your lips, flipping you over for round two.

572 notes · View notes

giorno-plays-piano · 3 years

Text

Vicious

Part VI

Pairing: Steve x reader, Bucky x reader, Thor x reader, Loki x reader, Peter x reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, stalking, possessiveness, theft, mention of blackmail, all characters are adults.

Words: 1567.

Summary: Transferring to Stark Academy that has only allowed to take in female students last semester, you realize you are just one of three young women among hundreds of students. Your things are constantly being stolen, and soon you begin fearing for your safety.

Part I

Part II

Part III

Part IV

Part V

________

You spent the rest of your evening like a somnambulist, barely able to concentrate on your projects before you went to bed, barely finishing half of the things you planned for today. Even the change of locks didn't make you as happy as you thought it would. It felt like something between a dream and a nightmare.

Lying in the dark, you stared at the ceiling, thinking of what happened just a couple of hours ago. Why did he do it? Was it just out of habit and didn’t mean anything? Naturally, with his appearance and easy-going attitude, he probably dated many girls and didn’t think much before kissing someone he liked.

Remembering the way he talked to you in the morning, you thought he must have pretended to be shy around you. Thor certainly wasn’t sheepish.

Was it all a sham? Was Loki right about all of them, playing their roles to get close to you? You couldn’t forget the way Thor looked the moment he told you about being smart. It was like something switched inside him, and for a second you saw the real Thor who was far from being your simple, good-natured athlete.

Why did you keep thinking about that stupid kiss even after seeing the man could be dangerous?

Aroused and angry, you tossed and turned until you fell asleep.

____________

Waking up was especially tough, despite the fact you didn't really do much yesterday, meaning you were going to spend your weekend studying. Shoot, and that's when you planned to visit that new chocolate boutique in the city. Maybe you could still make it if you spent more time studying today?

But then again, going to the city alone might be a bad idea. Even if the guys who stole your things were beaten, it didn't mean it had always been the same people following you. The school was full of weirdos, in the end. What if somebody went after you? Steve would definitely say you had to bring one of your guards with you.

Damn. It was better staying in the dorm then.

"Good morning! Are you ready?" Peter's voice broke through the silence, and you flinched, hurriedly applying some lipstick because you didn't have enough time to put your makeup properly.

Well, at least you were fully dressed.

"Just give me a second!" Picking up your bag, you put your shoes on and opened the door, looking at a young guy who's face was lit up like a Christmas tree. "Hi!"

He definitely liked what he saw, and you felt your cheeks growing hot from embarrassment. From the very start of the semester Peter acted very sweet around you, and you thought you could be friends with him. He wouldn't do something as ugly as blackmailing, would he? Thor said it too. Clearly, Steve was exaggerating.

"Did you sleep well? I've heard you changed your lock, so now it'll be better."

"Ugh, I hope so. But I still sleep with my dresser blocking the door." Sighing, started walking, afraid to look in the faces of other students, hurrying off to school.

They must have been disgusted, watching you being friendly with one guy after being all lovey-dovey with the other just yesterday. Although you didn't see anyone in particular, you were sure somebody saw Thor kissing you. And now you were walking the corridors with Peter.

"By the way, what's your Insta?"

What? Your Instagram? Whatever for? Although you had no idea why he needed it, you let him add you, by the time leaving the dorm and walking towards the main building.

Suddenly, Peter got pretty close, his arm on your waist as he lifted up his phone and hummed, "Look here and smile!"

Before you realized what he was doing, the boy kissed your temple, and you heard the sound of a photo being taken by his front-facing camera. What the Hell?!

"Peter!" Pissed at him, you quickly break free and stepped back, but he was already looking at his phone, editing the photo and posting it almost immediately.

You heard your phone buzz when he marked you on the photo.

"That's a good one. You look very cute here."

"What are you doing?!"

"Making a proof we're dating, of course?"

You were taken aback by the sincerity in his voice, and Peter smiled from ear to ear like an excited teenager, showing you the picture: it wasn't that bad, and you looked as if you were slightly embarrassed by Peter's closeness. Oh, of course. He had to convince his friends he was dating you, but he didn't kiss you on the lips that could make other people too suspicious. Instead, friends of Barnes or, say, Thor, would still think it was all for show, and it was their friend who dated you for real.

Shit, Steve's plan was incredibly complicated, and you didn't like it at all.

"Oh, alright." You mumbled, lowering your eyes to the ground, and Peter laughed.

"We'll make a TikTok dance later. If you wanna make people talk, just use your social media." He winked at you and put the phone in the pocket of his pants, resuming walking, and you moved along, your face still hot.

God, what did these guys got you into? You felt like you were lost in the middle of a play, not even having a script to read what was your role in all this.

Before you parted your ways, going to a different classrooms, Peter talked about videogames, the upcoming Resident Evil - apparently, his favorite franchise - and some Dota tournament, but you didn't know much about it, and Peter offered to show you his favorite games "because you can't spend all your time studying!"

He was as careless and sweet as always, but you couldn't get Steve's words out of your mind. Damn, if only you could know for sure that Peter didn't blackmail anyone. Who could you talk to about it? Obviously, not Peter himself, but every time he spoke you had that nagging feeling you needed to talk to him. You barely kept your mouth shut before he went to a different room.

Ugh, why didn't you transfer anywhere else when you still had a chance? Obviously, now you could only drop out of school, and it definitely wasn't something you were going to do.

Luckily, the next couple of hours you were busy with your classes, trying your best to prepare for the upcoming exams. The academy held high standards, and even though you were a good student, it still took lots of efforts to keep up the good work. How Thor even managed to get enrolled, judging by the fact he hated studying and often skipped classes?

Ah yes, he mentioned something about getting a scholarship from the academy for his success in the sport.

By the lunch time you were drained, listening to Peter chatting with an absent-mindedly epxression on your face. Funny enough, Peter's grades were better than yours, even though he spent much less time studying. What, was he some genius like Loki? You felt a little envy.

"I gotta go take my tracksuit, I have PE next," the boy said, and you nodded, throwing away the leftovers of your lunch.

As you stood close while he grabbed his sportclothes, you heard two guys talking behind the lockers to your right.

"Have you seen her today? She's with Parker!"

You tensed immediately. Of course, they were talking about you.

"Yeah, so what?"

"She was with Thor yesterday!"

Watching you froze on the spot, Peter stilled too, listening carefully. Oh shit, you hoped no one cared about who you went with - why should they, in the end - but, apparently, you were drawing too much attention simply because you were a girl among hundreds of male students.

"So what?" The other guy asked impatiently, growing tired of this conversation.

"Are you stupid? She's going out with them! I bet she's looking for a guy." The first student said with excitement, and you cringed. No, you weren't going out with anyone, you wanted to stop the weirdos from following you and steeling your things. Was it too much to ask?

"Yeah, who cares?"

"We have three fucking girls in the whole school, and you don't care if one of them could be going out with you? Besides, this one's pretty. I'd fuck her!"

You felt like you were going to puke any moment. Why on Earth did you decide to transfer to an all-boys school? It was like the whole school were a men’s room filled with stupid-ass guys, and you were locked inside, forced to listen them talk junk.

"You'd fuck a sheep, weirdo. Go get yourself a girlfriend if you can’t stop thinking with your dick.”

Laughing, the guy left, and his friend followed him, shouting something stupid while you breathed out a sigh of relief. Of course, you knew there would be some talk, but you didn’t expect it to be so... gross. Were you really gonna spend the two remaining years here?

Watching you getting frustrated, Peter gently touched you by the arm and said softly, “Don’t worry. They won’t talk rubbish about you.”

“What do you mean?” Suddenly thinking of Steve’s words, you blurted out exactly what you were thinking of the whole day, “Are you going to blackmail them with something?”

“I... what?”

Part VII

__________

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki @helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @navegandoaciegas @rosalynshields @brattycherub @sllooney @angrythingstarlight @lookiamtrying @buckysbunny @stargazingfangirl18 @dillybuggg @literate-lamb @cosicas-cuquis @sarge-barnes-sir @buckybarnesplumwhore @jaysayey @megzdoodle @gotnofucks @lux-ravenwolf @ximebebx @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @sourpatchspinster @biiskuitx @stupendouslovegardener @iheartsebandchris @lovelydarkdaydream @soleil-dor @illyrianprincess @vampirestrawberries @goodgodimaweirdperson @frontmanash @freya-heya @yandematic @mariatietacapitu @d3monslust @maybesandohnos @ibeatuptwinks @mangobangi

#bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #thor x reader #loki x reader #peter parker x reader #dark steve rogers #dark bucky barnes #dark loki #dark peter parker #dark thor #yandere

325 notes · View notes

l4verq · 3 years

Text

fight back | b.b

bucky barnes x enhanced!reader

in which bucky won’t lay a hand on you no matter what :(

tags : a little brawl, fluff cause icanthelpmyself, mentions of blood, john walker (idk if we're supposed to like him now ??) bucky is a cat lady okk

fic : one shot

a/n : inspired by that scene in the final ep of tfatws when karli is screaming at sam to fight back lol😳

|| gif by @unearthlydust ||

one world, one people.

you repeat it in your head one more time, when he comes into view, vibranium gleaming onyx with loops of gold.

you know that he knows you’re here, back to the wall a few feet away, peeking at him.

he doesn’t know that you let him know.

doesn’t know that you laid out a trap and just like the foolish mouse, he walked right into the lion’s den.

although you’re not sure who the fool actually is, when you meet his eyes, knees almost buckling at the sight just cause of how long it’s been without them.

“y/n.” he breathes out, almost in disbelief.

it’s been fourteen months since he woke up to an empty bed and a handwritten goodbye letter folded in a clean white envelope, tucked under a pillow still marked by the soft indentation of your head.

fourteen months since you took off in the dead of night, pulling your- his hood over your head, the cold wind nipping at your skin, almost like it was punishing you.

maybe, it saw what you did.

oh, but fred definitely saw what you did, that damn cat always followed you two around even though it’s owner was the blonde next door. her name wasn’t even fred, bucky came up with it after the third time it snuck into the apartment.

he swore he hated it but always seemed to have a treat lying around in case it did come.

and it did, a lot. neglected by it’s owner, it chose to seek comfort in the couple next door, and sometimes a meal or two.

“sorry, no treat today bub.”

fred scowled - honestly, you wouldn’t be surprised if an actual human was living in it - mewling as it came up to you for the usual chin rubs and cooes.

you sighed, caving into it’s antics, squatting to pet it.

cradling it’s head into your palm, she was purring, a very uncommon sight. fred doesn’t purr, she scratches and hisses at anything and everything that moves.

“you’re particularly nice today.” you commented, getting up. it mewled even louder this time but you turned on your heels and headed for the stairs.

you were already late.

your legs picked up pace quickly, easily crossing multiple blocks over in a few long strides owing to the blue serum coursing through your veins.

though your mind remained stationary, fixated on a single face, how it’d crumble at the sight of the letter, how he’d probably end up hating you.

“took you long enough.”

her auburn locks were tied into a loose braid that curved around her neck, the tip sat just below her collarbone, a piss poor job held together by a thin maroon colored band.

it was quintessentially her, the lack of utter patience to spend two minutes looping three knots of hair one over the other.

you jogged over to the other side of the black suv, noticing a stark white rectangle where a liscence plate should be.

“he’s knocked out cold,” you asked as soon as you grabbed the door handle open, “how?”

lazropthalein.

it came in the mail in a brown package, no return address. bucky wasn’t home, he had a scheduled therapy session down the block.

just a pinch is enough.

the text from the unknown number read.

it had no odour, a clean, white colour to it that blended in seamlessly with the flour.

“you baked without me?” bucky gasped, dramatically, hand covering his gaping mouth. his other hand carried two plastic bags, filled to the brim, a purple razor was poking out the top.

he even had to drop the poor bags on the floor, just to emphasize the utter shock he felt.

“i got bored.” you giggled, wiping the countertop with a wet cloth, remnants of flour on the sleek marble turning goopy under it.

“traitor.”

“it’s just cupcakes.”

“still a cake.”

you sighed, “you’re a five year old.”

he huffed, trudging towards the living room, shoulders hunched to really hone in on just how devastating this was for him.

“don’t i get a hug?” you held your arms out, making grabby hands, following him.

apparently, the devastation was to the point where he had to bring out the big guns, the sad baby blues.

the act lasted for another minute? at best. hours later, he was happily munching away.

“i know why it tastes so good.” he moaned, smacking his lips.

your smile faltered a little, did he kn- no, there’s no way he could have known. you burned that little plastic bag as soon as you dumped a pinch in.

“yea?”

he grinned, popping the last bit left in “it was made with your love.”

“how did it work?” your voice rose several octaves higher, amplified further by the cool, silent night.

drugs and sedatives don’t work on supersoldiers yet a certain blue eyed one was back home, unmoving even if you screamed right into his ears.

“dr wilfred, he invented it. the power broker wanted something to balance out our,” she flared her hands at both of you, “super-soldierness, so that we don’t have an upper hand when all’s said and done.”

would the either of you even be alive when all was said and done?

“look, i know you didn’t want to do this but james, he won’t understand. he’s not one o-..”

“yea, can we jus- let’s just get out of here.” you get in beside her, whipping the seatbelt over your torso.

the car was stuffy, felt like a choke around your neck that only seemed to tighten more and more.

“if we go now, there’s no coming back.” she glances at you, hand curled over the gearstick ready to position it in place.

she was giving you an out, one last chance. karli was a lot of things and having a heart inside that cold, bitchy exterior was one.

“i know.”

you sunk deeper into your seat, the hoodie had a faint smell of burnt toast and that cologne which was on sale, almost half off if you cut out the taxes.

it smelled like him, too much like him.

until it didn’t after a few days. but you still slept with it, just outright refusing to wash it despite karli’s snarky remarks about hygiene.

hygiene could go fuck herself, for all you know.

compared to the motels and basements you guys shifted around in, that hoodie was a doctor’s scrubs.

when the moon hung low on the black sky, you tried not to think about him too much. the silence didn’t help, you needed something to drown out your thoughts. that’s when the ‘socialising’ with the other flag smashers started. they were nice.

nice cause you were the leader’s little sister. but also a huge fucking liability because of a certain supersoldier hot on their heels in search of you, ruining every goddamn plan so their niceness was.. limited.

karli was a natural when it came to it, all of it. the talking, rallying of supporters - fuck, she just had a way with words. she could make you believe she hung up the stars in the sky.

probably how she convinced you that holding a room chock full of council members hostage right smack in the middle of nyc was a good idea.

the only idea, more precisely.

you guys had the upper hand, more than a handful supersoldiers at your disposal, capable of taking down the entire military force if you so pleased.

the only playing card they had was one supersoldier, who was better off distracted, kept off the field.

so who better to send to do the deed than the love of his life.

“fred had a baby. multiple babies, spawn of the devil if you ask me. always running around, thrashing the place up.” he takes small steps towards you, slow and calculated, as if a lion stalking around a prey.

“you shouldn’t be here.” you lie through your teeth, a tiny white compared to the ones that’ve rolled off your tongue before.

“i think the neighbours call me a cat lady now,” his eyes shift around and he leans in to whisper, “they haven’t even seen my knitting skills yet.”

“stop.” you think you said it or much rather whispered it, your voice was failing you. he’s getting close, too close for your liking so why aren’t you backing away from him?

“fred misses you, you know. she wonders where you went.” he smiles but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

the hairs on your neck shoot up, a slight twitch of your brow. the way bucky’s ear perk up, you realise it’s not just you and him here anymore.

someone else has arrived.

“i’ve got it handled, john.” bucky turns around, plants him directly infront of you, blocking john’s view of you.

sure enough, it’s john limping in, a nasty gash across his chest.

your blood runs cold because this isn’t how it’s supposed to go.

john isn’t supposed to be here, he’s supposed to be fighting.. oh god. you notice the various splatters of blood on his cowl, on his boot, on his shield.

it’s too much blood from a guy who’s barely bleeding.

“really? i was thinking you should do more than just talk.” he spits on the ground and wipes his mouth.

you notice, the spit’s all blood too.

“i’m giving you a chance to walk away, right now.”

john snorts, leaning sideways to get a view of you, neck craned out.

“and leave this prize all to yourself?” he grins, “i’d be an idiot.”

“you have a death wish then.” you lift your chin a little higher, praying your quickening heartbeat doesn’t give away your calm exterior.

john whistles, grimacing as he straightens, “so, she does talk.”

you scowl, crossing your arms.

he’s in bad shape. he has no chance, not that he ever did even in his best shape. he knows that too yet he’s still here. that sends a chill up your spine.

“go, i got this.” bucky tips his head, glancing at you.

“i don’t need you to save me.” you hiss at him, which comes out a little harsher than you intended. an apology dies in your throat as he flinches just the slightest.

“trouble in paradise?” john’s barely finished saying it before he’s reached behind his back and swinging the vibranium

you hear it before you see it stopped mid air by a gloved hand. then you charge.

it’s all a hazy mix of blue and red until your fist connects with his jaw, sound of something breaking ringing in your ear.

something pulls your waist back, a grip far too strong to be just flesh.

“go, i’ll ta-..” bucky’s barely said anything before an upward cut from john connects to his neck, violent coughs ensuing.

you grip john’s arm before he’s even retracted it back, jump up his back, settling around his neck and twist until you hear a crack and a bloodcurling scream following suit.

he whips his head back right into your stomach, seizes that moment when the wind knocks out of you to pull you by your hair off him.

“i told you to go.” bucky growls, kicking john right in the shin that makes him kneel and you almost fall off but you keep your fingers tightly looped around john’s hair, pulling as hard you can.

but he’s relentless.

your head hits something hard and you realise you’re on the ground now, legs loosely around john’s shoulders, him also on the ground.

it’s like the both of you realise at the same time but you’re quicker. your legs tighten around his neck, against the spot where a thick neck muscle throbs. he claws desperately around, straining for oxygen

soon, his hands lull down, the dull thud on the ground confirming his unconsciousness.

“are you hurt?” bucky’s hovering over you, seemingly unfazed by john’s neck in a chokehold by your legs right now.

you reject his hand he extends and push yourself off the gravelly concrete on to your feet.

“this was a mistake.” you trail off, saying it more to your own self.

you weren’t the lion, you were the stupid fox who thought it was.

stupid enough to believe you were over bucky and that everything wouldn’t come rushing back as soon as you laid eyes on him.

he whips you around by your hand and before you know it, he’s already caught your other fist heading for his sternum. you barely feel the grip, it’s soft, just so incredibly soft and fits so right.

you hate it.

rage bubbles inside you, mostly at yourself. partly at him because he’s not screaming at you or slamming you against the wall or jus- anything.

you wrench your hand away, land a swing which he does nothing to block. his grip on your other hand loosens and he still does nothing when another hit to the jaw leaves him staggering,

instead, he looks at you softly as if resigning himself to your anger, to let it simmer off.

“fight back!” you scream, outstretched palms pushing him back.

he stumbles a few steps back, hands reaching out to yours resting on his chest, fingers intertwining yours tightly.

“stop.” it’s a soft plead, tears spiking the corners of his eyes.

“hit me!” you’re practically begging at this point, thrashing your arms around.

his hands grapple at your shoulders, bringing you to his chest, “it’s okay.”

he smells so sweet, just so sweet that you almost believe him.

“i drugged you and i left you and i-,” you inhale sharply, “i killed so many people, bucky.”

the last fourteen months had escalated quickly from doing what’s right to doing what’s needed, lines blurred between moral ethics and survival.

“it’s okay.” he repeats, hand patting your hair, gentle and soothing. your body betrays you, sinking into his touch, his warmth.

“you should hate me.” you whimper.

you wouldn’t blame him if he did. you doubt he could hate you more than you already did yourself.

he pulls back, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, “i couldn’t if i tried.”

god, why does he have to be so.. bucky?

frustated, you spit out, “this? this was a distraction to separate you and sam.”

you don’t say it but it’s understood, understood that you wouldn’t have met him if not for it.

the inner corners of his brows angle up slightly, a ghost of a smile on his lips, “i know.”

your breath hitches, if he knows then wh-

“then, why..?”

you finally look up at him, vision blurry because of the stupid tears pooling at your eyes.

his thumb wipes away a tear dribbling down your cheek, the coldness of the metal a clear contrast to the warm moisture, “you know why.”

a/n : this one’s been sitting pretty, collecting cobwebs in my drafts so thought i’d take it out lol, also haven’t been posting fics in a whileeee cause im dumb and i’ve been working on multiple things all at once lol yea this is me rambling and also i just wanna say that i. love. folklore. sm. that whole album has me crying and sad and just :((

#bucky barnes #bucky #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky fic #james bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky imagine #fatws bucky #fatws #flag smashers #marvel #mcu

231 notes · View notes

forzalando · 3 years

Text

royally screwed | fw | pt. two

pairing: prince!fred x princess!reader word count: 2.4k warnings: cursing, mentions of meals/food, arranged marriage, enemies to lovers a/n: hello friends! happy valentine’s day!!💛the long awaited part two is here and i hope you all enjoy!😊bonus points if you catch the subtle hp references in this chapter hahaha thank you to @spacexcowgirl for beta reading, i love you dearly!! you can read part one here

summary: Prince Frederick Weasley of Burrow was a twin, but unfortunately, at least in his mind, he was born the eldest twin, meaning it was his duty to inherit the kingdom. Since the young age of ten, Fred knew that he was to marry Princess Y/N Y/L/N of Diagon, and over the years they’ve both come to dread the day. With the eve of their wedding closely approaching, their disdain for each other begins to worry their respective families. However, there is a very fine line between love and hate.

Y/N awoke the next morning and immediately recounted the previous day’s events; she could feel the puffiness in her face and eyes from the tears shed after her Mother left her room. She had hoped that their conversation would go differently, but it was done and there was nothing left she could say regarding the matter.

A sharp knock on Y/N’s chamber door had her jumping up and crossing the room faster than her feet would carry her. She stumbled a bit, almost crashing into the door before pulling it open, only to see the most peculiar sight.

Frederick Weasley, with his siblings stood behind him, although George was standing rather close so that he could pinch his brother’s ear.

“Well,” Ginny goaded, “go on then, you arse.”

Fred turned swiftly to shoot his sister a glare, but George’s grip on his ear had him wincing in pain.

“You better get going or I swear I’ll rip it off,” George grumbled, struggling to hide the jesting smile creeping on his face.

“Fine, fine,” Fred huffed. “Princess Y/N, I would like to apologize for my behavior last night. It was entirely unacceptable and I hope that you can find it in your impossibly sma-”

Ginny quickly stomped on Fred’s foot, interrupting what Y/N was sure would be an insult.

“Pardon me, your impossibly large heart, to forgive me. I was also wondering if you would care to join me for breakfast in the drawing room.”

George promptly let go of Fred’s ear, but not without one final yank, and the entire clan of Weasley siblings looked at Y/N expectantly, awaiting her answer with fervor.

“You must be absolutely mad, Frederick Weasley,” she scoffed, folding her arms across her chest in defiance. “After your attitude last night, which you had for no reason, I might add, and you come knocking on my door to ask if I want to have breakfast with you? I don’t want to see your face unless I have to!”

“I’m trying, Y/N! You said that the least I could was try, so here I am, offering to spend time with you when I’d rather lick the floor in the foyer.”

“Well, then, feel free to go scrub the floors with your tongue because I will not join you for a meal today or any other day!”

Fred stalked away with no objections from his siblings, who were all laughing at Y/N’s quip. She had a satisfied smile on her face as well, but it quickly fell when she averted her gaze to the three other Weasley siblings.

“Now what exactly did you think that was going to accomplish?” Y/N spoke with a, mostly, playful glare to the three standing before her.

“Honestly, we were hoping a bit that you wouldn’t answer the door. Mum made us drag him down here,” George answered with a shrug of his shoulders.

“But, now that we are here,” Ginny said excitedly, “will you have breakfast with us?”

Y/N smiled softly; she could never say no to spending time with her only friends.

“Let me get dressed and I’ll meet you…where should I meet you?”

“The drawing room…” Ron mumbled, hoping Y/N wouldn’t recall that Fred wanted to take his breakfast there as well.

“You three are insufferable,” Y/N laughed, “however, I’ll be there in ten. Hopefully he will be gone by then.”

Y/N gently shut her door and quickly threw on a dress and her day slippers; her mother would absolutely have a fit if she saw the disheveled state she was in, but Y/N simply couldn’t care.

After a quick glance in the mirror, Y/N hurried through the castle corridors that she had come to know so well and made it to the drawing room in record time. To her delight, Frederick was nowhere to be seen.

“Good Morning, dear,” Queen Molly said warmly from her seat. “Have you by chance seen Fred this morning?”

Y/N heard the quiet snickering of Ron and George and then a hushed “shut it” that could only have come from Ginny.

“Oh, yes, Queen Molly, he stopped by my chambers to apologize. Very out of character for him, I wonder if someone slipped something into his morning tea.”

Molly Weasley hummed lightly, taking the slightly sarcastic tone of Y/N’s voice to mean that things hadn’t gone as she directed.

“That’s lovely, dear, maybe you’ll actually have a civil conversation in the gardens.”

Y/N set down her tea slowly, trying not to act shocked because she had no knowledge of a walk in the gardens.

“The gardens? I didn’t know anything about the gardens,” Y/N mused inquisitively.

“That’s where Fred is right now, I told him you’d be along in a few minutes. He even looked a bit excited,” Molly teased.

Y/N snorted inelegantly and immediately covered it with a cough; she rose from the table and looked pleadingly at George, hoping he could come up with some form of an excuse that would save her from time spent with Frederick, but George refused to look at her and continued eating his breakfast unbothered.

“I’ll go meet him now, Queen Molly. I’m sure he’s awfully busy so we can make this short,” Y/N said with a smile.

“Fred is free all day, I cleared his schedule, dear.”

“Brilliant,” she grimaced.

With a half-hearted wave, she left the drawing room and begrudgingly walked towards the gardens, smiling politely at each person she passed. Even if her future husband did not care for her, Y/N took comfort in knowing that his family and the people in the castle did; she hoped it would make the rest of her life tolerable.

All too soon, Y/N felt the sunshine on her face as she stepped into the magnificent palace gardens. She could spot Prince Frederick’s fiery hair a mile away; he was standing near the rose bushes twirling a yellow one between his long fingers.

The rustling of the grass between Y/N’s feet caused Fred to turn around to find the source of the noise.

He stalled a bit; even though he despised the Princess of Diagon, he could never deny that she was breathtakingly beautiful. Her hair was unkempt, a soft pink, cotton gown swished around her legs as she stalked toward him, and her face was set in a scowl but even the worst grimace could not distract from her captivating eyes.

It was entirely infuriating, and it made Fred want to hate her even more, but some intrinsic force wouldn’t allow him.

“What are you staring at?” Y/N asked, her eyebrow raising.

“Nothing,” Fred replied with a shake of his head. “I’m just thinking of all the ways I’d rather spend my morning.”

“Well, it seemed like you were staring at me. Do it again and I’ll push you into the rose bushes, I don’t care if you are the future King.”

Fred turned his head and tried not to crack a smile, but failed miserably as the corner of his mouth quirked up involuntarily.

“Let’s get this over with, Y/N, can your stubby legs keep up?”

“It’s not my fault you shot up like a bloody bean pole; you went from stumpy to looking like someone sewed tree limbs together and animated them.”

“Most women like tall men.”

“I like tall men, Frederick, I just don’t like you.”

A stunned silence fell over the two royals, only the sounds of the rustling leaves and nearby animals could be heard.

“I suppose that’s why you like Prince Cedric, then?”

“Beg your pardon?” Y/N’s eyes widened, confused at the sudden interrogation.

“Your conversation with your Mother last night, how you begged her to marry him instead. Or my brother. Or that horrid Malfoy.”

“You had no right – that was a private conversation. How dare you eavesdrop on my personal business? Every time I think you have a shred of decency you prove me wrong, Frederick Weasley.”

Fred stepped in front of the Princess, blocking her path and preventing her from walking on.

“Prove you wrong? I had come to your room to apologize when I heard you plotting with your Mother to run off with someone else and disrespect my family.”

“I would never disrespect your family. They’ve never been anything but good and kind to me, the last thing I would ever want to do is hurt them. I haven’t the slightest idea how you’re related to any of them.”

“Oh, I know, you have them all wrapped around your little finger,” Fred scoffed.

“I’m not going to stand here and fight with you, Frederick, I don’t have the energy. Can we please just keep moving and we can tell your Mother we had a wonderful time and learned so much about each other.”

Y/N stepped around Fred, lightly grabbing his wrist to pull him along through the endless rows of flowers.

“She’ll probably quiz us and you don’t even know my favorite color,” Fred griped.

“It’s purple, I think,” Y/N blurted. “I overheard you telling your Mum years ago that you wanted purple frosting on some dessert. I figured that meant it was your favorite.”

“And you remembered?”

“There aren’t a lot of things I forget about the people in my life, Frederick. If it’s important to you, I’ll remember.”

“But you don’t care about me, why did you even bother?”

Y/N sighed and shook her head before turning to look at Fred, shielding her eyes from the sun.

“Contrary to popular belief, I don’t hate you. I don’t particularly like you, maybe in a different life we’d actually be friends, but I don’t hate you. I don’t hate anyone.”

Fred realized this was the longest they’d gone without arguing in years, and it was barely one tenth of a conversation. He turned his head slightly to watch Y/N, taking in the way she gazed lovingly at the surrounding flora, and noticed her eyes linger a bit longer every so often.

“Yellow,” Fred mumbled.

“What was that?” Y/N asked.

“You look longer at the yellow flowers. Yellow is your favorite color.”

Y/N smiled softly, the same smile she’d given Fred when she had arrived the day before but it was infinitely more sincere.

“If you were like this all the time, you wouldn’t be so bad Frederick.”

“Who says I’m not?”

Y/N rolled her eyes and this time Fred could not contain himself; he laughed loudly, and the sound triggered a fluttering of sorts in the Princess’s chest. They continued their walk, chattering idly and the Prince even picked a blooming yellow rose and delicately handed it to his Princess.

“I really did want to apologize last night, you know,” Fred assured. “I didn’t have any reason to be so rude when you arrived, I guess it was just…habit. We have a way of getting under each other’s skin.”

“Apology accepted, for your rudeness yesterday, of course. But, you owe me another.”

“Another?”

“Yes, for eavesdropping on me and my Mother.”

“That conversation involved me, I hardly think it’s one I shouldn’t be aware of if you’re trying to finagle your way out of our betrothal.”

“It may involve you, but it was a private conversation.”

“That involved me.”

“My God, I’ve said it before but truly every time I think you can redeem yourself, you do or say something completely asinine. Do you have any manners?”

“You were talking about me, I felt I had a right to listen!”

Y/N groaned loudly in annoyance, drawing the attention of the nearby guards.

“I don’t even believe you wanted to apologize, you had the chance this morning and just insulted me like you always do! Every decent part of you is nothing but an act!”

“You don’t even know me,” Fred seethed.

“No, I don’t, but it’s because you won’t let me!”

“You’ve never even tried, don’t attempt to play me for a fool, Y/N.”

“Well, I’m trying now. I’m trying now and still all we can do is fight.”

The two stood toe to toe, breathing heavily and staring into each other’s eyes. After a few moments, Y/N looked away and sighed deeply. It sounded almost dejected, Fred realized, rather than the anger he had expected.

“Go ahead of me back to the castle, please, I’d like to actually enjoy the rest of the walk.”

“I don’t have to take orders from – ”

“You’ll do as I say, Frederick Weasley,” Y/N snapped.

Fred wanted to argue; God, did he want to argue with her until he was blue in the face, but something about the tone of her voice frightened him a bit. So, he scoffed and stalked back to the castle, swinging his fists by his sides and gritting his teeth.

He passed by his twin, giving George a half-hearted wave before entering the castle. It wasn’t hard to sense the tone of what had transpired, and George shook his head and took off running towards the gardens to find Y/N.

“Oi! What did he do this time?” George shouted as he slowed to a stop in front of Y/N.

“Just the usual. Acting like a pompous prick that can do no wrong. He was nice for two minutes and then refused to apologize for eavesdropping last night on a conversation between me and my Mother!”

George rolled his eyes and raked a hand down his face, massaging his temples in preparation for the headache that his brother always managed to give him.

“Y/N, you know he’s not malicious, he’s just an idiot sometimes,” George offered.

“I appreciate you defending him but at the moment it’s going in one ear and out the other, Georgie.”

He laughed and slung an arm around the Princess’s shoulders, joining her on the remainder of her walk through the gardens. He noticed Y/N twirling a yellow rose around and every so often lifting it to inhale its sweet scent.

“Stealing flowers from our gardens, eh?” George jested, bumping his hip into Y/N.

“Frederick picked it for me, actually,” she mumbled.

“Well, that’s sweet. You two can get along, is what I’m seeing and hearing.”

“It was a momentary lapse of judgment,” Y/N sighed, before throwing the perfect rose to the ground and ensuring her slipper crushed the delicate petals.

When they were good and flattened into the Earth, she swore she felt an ache in her chest.

taglist: @theweasleyslut @vivacesole @weasleyclaw @nuttytani-reblogs @theweasleysredhair @hufflepuffbaby9 @wildfire-whizbangs @gcdricreads @amhyeah @62442-am @letsgotothehop @emrysts @fuckoffthanos @uponashelf @justalittleweirdoo @evermoreweasley @feminafatales @pxroxide-prinxcesss @lumosandnoxwriting @weelittleweasley @darthwheezely @lovecroftreads @whizboingies @love-peachh @harrysweasleys @wand3ringr0s3 @gredmforge @vogueweasley @gryffindcrghost @adrianpuceyishot @spacexcowgirl @freds-slut @phoenixes-and-wizards @parseltongueswriting @geostarr @snoopydoop1 @lana-isabelle @kaye-lantern @aworldinsideaperson @starlightweasley @emeraldbears20 @lupinsclassroom @barnesjamcs @thisuserlovesyouandyouandyou @dracosgoodgirl @expectoevans @scoobiessnacks @crissdanvers @itsbebeyyy @ovrwd @satellitespidey @softlyqoos @dandyylions @anxxi0s @raiaurii @gloryekaterina @godricsswords @wischief @amourtentiaa @lmaoitsmebro @legitlaughingflamingo @rodrickmalfoy @listenhereyousupernova

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley au #fred weasley #prince!fred au #enemies to lovers #royally screwed #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x f!reader #fred weasley fic

389 notes · View notes

tobiogf · 3 years

Text

𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐢𝐧

sugawara

word count: 2754

genre: nuthing but smut

a/n: yea its x reader and not every reader is gna be christian im not even christian but like . . . . church boy suga is a thing and he terrifies me. this is how im finna cope.

Once the sermon ends, the families disperse, gathering at the snacks and beverages table stationed by the entrance. You stalk away from your mother, hands in the pockets of your dress as you make your way to the coffee machine. You’re not exactly sure how to work this thing but since no one’s watching, you might as well give it a shot.

However, you’re left fumbling with cups and buttons, unsure of what it is that you even want out of the stupid machine — you’re just trying to pass time and your mother keeps sending you irritated looks every time you pull out your phone. You play it off as checking the time but you’re just so sick of this whole being a devout Christian thing.

Pulling you out of your thoughts, a pair of hands feather over your waist, trying to move you aside. You freeze from the spine-tingling contact and shift to the side, glancing over your shoulder to see Sugawara reaching for the coffee machine.

“Looks like you needed help,” he states.

You wrap your arms around yourself and look away. “Preferably not yours.”

Sugawara laughs and retracts his hand from the machine. “Ah, fine. I’ll let you struggle but um,” he leans closer to you and you blink, curious as to what it is he needs to whisper against your ear. “That group was watching and laughing at you.”

Your gaze flickers towards a trio of girls snickering to each other and blush jumps to your cheeks before you can even stop it. “I couldn’t care less,” you grumble. “I didn’t even want coffee anyway— I hate that you’re smiling in a situation like this.”

“What? Church?” Sugawara asks, an eyebrow quirked as he laughs. You roll your eyes. “I think you’re a bit too far gone to bring you back to God — if what happened with that boy yesterday is something to go by.”

You flush, shoving your hands in your pockets again. “Oh my god! Can we drop that? He broke my window with rocks just to say he wants to break up and I’m the crazy one around here?”

Sugawara giggles into his hand and glances at you. “You threw a knife out the window, Y/N. You have to tell me what’s up with that.”

“I’ll throw one at you next,” you murmur, annoyed. “Ugh, look — he’s coming down to give another speech about God.”

“You don’t want to hear about God, Y/N?” Sugawara asks you.

“Not by that old creep,” you answer, shuddering. “Hey, Suga . . . Can you show me where the bathrooms are? I need to answer a text.”

Sugawara smiles knowingly. “Ah, the infamous no-phone rule. Your mum’s caught on, huh?”

You chuckle. “Yeah, unfortunately.”

“Come on, I’ll take you there.”

Your shoulders feel a lot lighter once you’ve sent that long, curse-word-riddled, message to your ex-boyfriend before casually clicking the block button. You never want to hear from him again and you vow yourself not to get involved with boys you’ve met in clubs in the future.

The corridor is quite narrow so you have to stand pretty close to Sugawara while you proudly reiterate to him everything you told your ex. Sugawara listens with raised brows and an amused grin, occasionally nodding his head when you lower your voice to curse.

“Now I’m ready to embrace god,” you joke, leaning back against the wall.

“You sure? Sinning repeatedly after repenting won’t exactly get you in God’s good books,” Sugawara says, standing against the opposite wall.

You purse your lips. “Well, I haven’t exactly repented yet, have I? I feel like I should get one last free sin in and then I’ll be good to go.”

Sugawara’s eyes gleam as he grins at you. “We should head back before the speech is over.”

“Nooo,” you whine, tugging on Sugawara’s sleeve when he turns to leave. “You’re supposed to help me.”

“With what?” He asks.

“You know . . . Sinning once more before I devote myself to religion,” you tease.

Sugawara furrows his brows. “Uh huh . . . And where do I come in?”

“Oh come on,” you say, pretending to be abashed, and look at the floor. “Don’t make me spell it out.” A moment later though, Sugawara’s finger is under your chin, tilting it upwards to bring your gaze to his. Your eyes widen, surprised by his unfamiliar actions, but your heart speeds up, palpitating almost violently against your chest. You clasp your hands behind your back because god, if they weren’t . . .

Had your words made him this way? Or was Sugawara this attractive all along, and you just failed to notice it?

“Then don’t spell it out,” Sugawara says in a voice that punctures right through your chest and flutters your abdomen. “Show me.”

Your restraints are dropped with those last words. It took all you had within you to not ravage him the moment his skin came in contact with yours. But now he’s pretty much given you permission to test your limits.

You duck your head towards his and kiss his parted lips, a shudder shooting through you at the feeling of his soft lips and warm breath hitting the back of your throat as he closes his mouth against yours. Your eyes flutter shut in bliss — excited at the idea of kissing the boy you’ve only ever known as your next door neighbor.

Sugawara’s always come across as that polite, could-do-no-wrong, type of boy but you’re certain he knows what he’s doing by the way he moves his head back slightly when you try to deepen the kiss, his lips forming a grin as they ghost over yours.

“I dunno, I distinctly remember you saying you didn’t want my help . . . Y/N,” he murmurs, smiling widely while biting his lower lip. You shiver at the way he whispers your name breathlessly, all conscious thoughts lost as his nose brushes against yours, sending your heart into a frenzy.

You shake your head quickly — if he leaves you here like this right now, you might just pass out. Sugawara gently grabs your chin and holds it in place.

“Use your words,” he tells you, tapping on your bottom lip with his thumb.

“I-I want it . . . I w-want your help,” you stutter, your fingers sliding into the hair on the back of Sugawara’s neck, desperately clutching at it to try and bring his face even closer to yours.

Sugawara smiles sweetly. “That’s my girl,” he mutters, pressing his lips against yours again, hands on your hips while he pins you up against the wall, the fabric of your dress riding up with his movements. You whimper weakly as Sugawara pushes between your legs and kisses you even harder.

Yearning, you drag your hand along the buttons of Sugawara’s white shirt before the tips of your fingers are dancing along the metal of his belt buckle. Smiling against his mouth, you lower your hand right when Sugawara grabs your wrist and pins it against the wall next to you, his fingers immediately intertwining with yours.

“Take it easy,” he whispers over your lips. You smile as he darts his tongue out to kiss your top lip before pressing his mouth to yours, one hand cupping your neck and the other grazing your thigh, lifting your thigh around his waist and pushing your dress up even higher.

Cool air makes contact with your bare skin, sending goosebumps and tingles all over you. Your fists bunch up the back of Sugawara’s shirt, fingers closed tightly as his thumb slides right over the cloth of your underwear, making you gasp into his mouth. Sugawara grins as your eyes shoot open and you’re gazing down at where his hand is nestled under your dress, your chest heaving.

“Suga—” You try to say but it leaves your mouth in a dulcet moan.

“Shh . . . They’re gonna know what we’re doing,” Sugawara groans softly, his own lashes fluttering as he gently moves his fingers between your trembling thighs. “Kiss me,” he tells you and you don’t need to be told twice. Your stomach’s knotting up inside you as you hungrily kiss him, sighing in pleasure as Sugawara drags his parted lips over your chin and tilts your head to the side, kissing and biting underneath your jaw before smoothing out the ache with his tongue.

You choke back a moan when he tugs his hand out from your dress, his knuckles grazing your inner thigh, before he lifts his hand up to his face and observes his glistening fingers. You can’t help but blush as he glances at you teasingly before cupping your cheek.

“You’re so pretty,” he muses and you gulp, your knees so weak if he hadn’t been holding you up with a hand around your neck, you might’ve collapsed.

“Hurry — Suga —” You whisper, your hands around Sugawara’s waist to pull him flush against you. You can feel how hard he is right against you and you crave more than just that friction. “They sound like they’re almost done—” Sugawara takes your open mouth as an invitation to slip his fingers between your lips, eliciting a soft moan from your throat at the salty taste of your lust on his skin.

“Shut up already,” says Sugawara, swallowing hard and watching you with intrigue as you suck on his fingers.

“Asshole,” you murmur, pulling away from his hand, a trail of saliva connecting your lips to his fingers. Sugawara smiles and the thought of the familiar, polite boy you’ve always known, doing this with you almost makes you dizzy with desire.

“I can’t believe your goody-two-shoes ass actually agreed to this,” you croak out between Sugawara’s messy kisses and his cold, wet fingers back inside you. He breaks away and removes his hand from your dress before you can moan in protest — then his palm makes stinging contact with your bottom and you cry out while your heart jumps into your throat.

“On second thought, I think your ass is ready,” he hisses out and you can’t help but let an excited smile invade your face. Sugawara kisses that smile before gripping your hips. “Turn around, Y/N.” And you do as your told and Sugawara sucks in a deep breath as his fingers trail the hem of your dress. “This what you wanted . . . right? You’re acting so weird all day it’s almost like you’re a little slut for me.”

You gulp. “Sugaaa . . . C-Call me that more often?” you whimper teasingly as Sugawara bends over you, pushing your hair away from your neck with a delicate touch before kissing the sensitive skin there, the feeling of his hot breath knotting up your stomach. The corridor is so narrow and he’s standing so close, you can feel his hardness right behind you.

“No, you look more like an angel,” he laughs against your neck and you giggle, stomach fluttering before you push back into him and he’s releasing a shuddering groan right in your ear. “Fuck . . . Y/N . . . You’re my slut, yes, you are.” Sugawara sighs and he rarely ever curses but that is the hottest thing you’ve ever heard. His fingers are already tugging down your underwear while he uses his free hand to hold your dress up against your hips.

“Just be quiet,” he tells you and you shut your eyes, heart beating fast in your throat at the clinking sound of his belt buckle when he undoes his trousers.

The recollection of events from there on are a bit hazy. Your worries of being found are completely stripped away with every stroke of Sugawara inside of you and the sounds of you moaning his name are muffled by his fingers between your lips, trying to keep you as quiet as possible. He’s bigger than you expected but he fills you up so completely that every time he pulls out, you whine from the overwhelming emptiness.

“I can’t just stay inside, babe . . .” Sugawara grunts, his fingers tangled in your hair while he roughly tugs on it. You’re in bliss, knees threatening to give out underneath you but Sugawara holding you up with one hand on your stomach and the other gripping your hips.

You can’t act as if you hadn’t thought of this at least once when you were in his bed last night. He was quite a handsome individual, and he was charming — but you’ve never thought he could be capable of this or you might’ve tried to coax it out of him a long time ago.

He knows exactly what to do, leaning over you and wrapping a hand around your neck to pull your head back. “You’re so damn loud,” he tells you, kissing the side of your face and neck.

“I can’t not be,” you choke out, feeling his fingers dig into your hips. “You feel so good . . .

“You do . . . Fuckkk . . . I never want to miss a day of church,” Sugawara groans, breaths becoming shallow with every movement.

You laugh, clamping down on your bottom lip as a moan bubbles in your throat. His actions speed up and his kisses feel wet against your hot, flushed skin. You can feel sweat dripping off his fringe and right onto your exposed shoulder, where he’s biting enough to leave a mark. Eventually his moans turn into choked gasps, one of his hands comes up to rest on top of yours, which is gripping the wall, and your fingers intertwine. His other hand is desperately pulling at your hips, trying to get as deep as possible.

You can feel that tightness in your stomach slowly unravel as you repeatedly stutter out his name, floating in a euphoric bliss. Sugawara’s groans escalate and your toes are curling under your shoes and he’s begging you to say his name again. You do and a string snaps within you, Sugawara throws his head back, strands of hair in his eyes as he bites his bruised lips to suppress a stuttering cry. Your own moans of release are muffled by his hand over your mouth and you can feel the violent shudder pass through his body, right against yours and you part your lips, panting heavily as your breath hitches and your heart is slowly returning to it’s normal rate.

After a few moments, Sugawara’s arms wrap around your waist and he’s pulling you against his chest. You’re glad you can lean back on something, your body sore and aching but your mind whirring from the mind-shattering pleasure he’d given you just minutes ago. His lips are against your ear and you know he wants to say something but just then, the sound of footsteps and shuffling interrupt your occupation with each other.

You jerk your head to the entrance of the hallway and you see a girl stare slack-jawed at the two of you, behind her stands a few adults, your mother, and the priest. No matter how hard you’d tried to keep quiet, it wasn’t enough — clearly.

Mortified, you pull your underwear back up and fix your dress and Sugawara’s zipping his pants up again. Your cheeks are flaring and you’re not sure if any excuse would even work in this situation. You can’t look Sugawara but you can tell he’s just as embarrassed.

“Father, forgive me . . . I’m so ashamed right now,” your mother breaks the strangling silence, shooting a killer look your way before turning to the priest. The priest looked as though he was about to faint from shock. Sugawara’s standing behind you, his heavy breaths tickling your neck — you wanted to rewind time just a bit and maybe stay in that moment forever.

Or maybe you wouldn’t have done it in the first place. Suddenly, “one last sin” isn’t sounding like a good enough justification for what you and Sugawara had just done. And in the hallway? You know you take risks but that was a leap you’d never dared to pursue.

And yet, you are here. And, even though you’re aware of the fact that your mother’s going to scream your head off by the time you get home, you’re also pretty certain of one other thing: it was so fucking worth it.

#anime #haikyuu #sugawara koushi #sugawara x y/n #sugawara fanart #sugawara #smut #anime smut #haikyuu smut #sugawara smut #sugawara headcanon #sugawara fic

439 notes · View notes

awkwardgtace · 3 years

Text

Secret Brother Pt3 (Final)

Ending for Ian and Mikhail.

TW: mentions of abandonment. This part specifically mentions pet like treatment. It is painted as how wrongly Ian was treated Mikhail does not stand for it.

Part 1 Part 2

Secret Brother Part 3 (Final)

Ian was shaking his head mumbling no. Mikhail almost wanted to laugh at himself. He was so upset about everything, he didn’t even have to worry about growing right now. He took a step towards Ian who matched with a step back. He let out a deep sigh and sat down on the table waiting for Ian to approach. Ian just started pacing, clearly unsettled. This went on for a few minutes.

“Ian, can we talk?” Mikhail asked. Ian looked at him, eyes wide with fear. This is exactly what he was dreading since he first shifted to help out. He hated the fear borrowers always had when it came to him changing sizes.

“Why should I talk to you? I don’t know you at all.” Ian tried to sound fierce, but fear was seeping through.

“Ian, just because I can change my size doesn’t mean anything else is different. I’m still the same Mik who helped you.”

“You’re Mik?!” he screeched. All right, if Ian was willing to interact after this he was teaching the kid to focus on details. There wasn’t any other way for him to know his name. It was also kind of funny to hear just shock about it, Mikhail started laughing. “Don’t laugh at me! How was I supposed to realize!?”

“Buddy, I’m not laughing at you, it’s just funny. Here I was so sure you’d figured me out. That I had no options to avoid telling you now, but I could probably have played it off until next week when I was planning to talk to you.”

“So-so you’re the human, so you don’t need to be protected. So this was a waste,” Ian looked at Mikhail with a mixture of fear and acceptance. “W-What do you plan to do with me now?”

“Well we can talk, you can tell me about this human that scared you. You can just go back to the walls and I’ll leave you be. We can keep going like before if you want. You can move and I’ll help you or you can move on your own. Next steps are up to you. I’ll follow your lead, I know the fact I’m human sized most of the time can be troubling.”

“What will you do if the bad human shows up?” he asked.

“Keep you safe.”

“What if I ran away from them, wouldn’t most humans give me back?”

“Nothing will make me change my mind. You’re a person and from how you acted it doesn’t sound like they treated you like one.” Mikhail was positive he wouldn’t let Ian get caught by that person again. There isn’t anything Ian could tell him to make him change his mind. He wasn’t going to encourage Ian thinking he didn’t have choices. Ian was a person who could make his own decisions.

“Fine, I'll tell you what happened with the bad human. We’ll see how serious you are after that.” Ian moved closer to sit in front of Mikhail. His face was more serious than he’d seen until now. It made him nervous, this wasn’t an easy story it seemed.

“I lived in the house with the bad human and their family pretty much my whole life. My family didn’t like how curious the child was and had been talking about moving for a few years. When my mom got pregnant, my dad decided I should start borrowing. He didn’t want her out, and wanted me to be able to get supplies we needed once the baby was born. It went fine at first, I’d practiced a lot, but I was seen. I told my parents and we packed up everything, they’d been prepping for that for a long time. They didn’t want to risk staying with the curious human child so we left the same night. It was raining and I got caught in a current. My dad held my mom back from trying to help me. He said it was better to let me live with the consequences, it was my fault we were moving anyway. She fought against him, but the current was strong and I was pulled under. When I woke up I was in a room I recognized. It took me a few minutes to realize I was also in a cage.

“That was the bad human’s room. At first they were nice, they said they were just keeping me there so I wouldn’t get hurt. After a week I started to ask when I could leave. They would play up this idea that I would be in too much danger. One day I decided to try to leave, they hadn’t taken my things so I could open the cage pretty easily. Apparently while I’d been out they found all the entrances in the room and blocked them off. The human was angry when they came back. They took everything, but my clothes that day. Then I started getting punished if I acted wrong. Days without food and water, sometimes they’d leave a sheet over the cage so I couldn’t tell any time. A few times other borrowers showed up, they promised to help me usually. I would point them to an exit and never see them again. I can’t blame them, I probably wouldn’t risk capture by a human who kept an underfed borrower.

“I’m not sure how long I’d been with them, but eventually they started talking about some project. The human took me with them to that building. They kept saying something about the perfect topic. I’d been behaving for a while so they’d started making mistakes. They left me on their desk along with some other things. I stole what I could to make a hook and tried living in the walls,” Ian took in a shaky breath. Tears were falling down his face as he spoke. Mikhail was trying to stay calm as he listened, ready to go find the cruel person and show them how being caged felt.

“Then there was the day you showed up. I’d been listening to the bad human a lot and they were planning to try and capture me again. I knew climbing in your bag might be a bad idea, but you didn’t live in that building. I didn’t want the bad human to get me again. I figured once out I’d either make it work in the new human home or die trying.”

Mikhail couldn’t hold back anymore. He stood quickly walking over to Ian. He fell to his knees in front of him, pulling him in to a tight hug. He felt himself grow a bit, the desperate need to keep Ian safe taking a bit of control. He fought himself to keep close to Ian’s size, now wasn’t the time to loom over him. Ian froze, but soon turned into Mikhail’s chest crying. He grabbed the cloth of the shirt in tight fists, letting out everything he kept inside. Mikhail held him tightly until he’d worn himself out. Ian had started to fall asleep, it made sense and Mikhail let him. This was a rough night and he deserved some rest. Ian’s world was changed a lot. As Ian fell into a deep sleep, Mikhail moved to get them both off the table. He had grown carrying someone before, although this was the first time in a long time.

He sat at the table edge with Ian in his arms and focused on getting back to human height. He watched as the boy got smaller, sliding him off into one palm as he reached his human height. He slid off the table trying to be quiet enough for the borrower in his hand. He watched for any signs he woke up, then turned to grab the hook off the table. Mikhail took slow, steady steps to his room. He wanted to let Ian sleep, he’d clearly been on edge for a while. He placed the hook on his palm next to Ian and used his free hand to pull a pillow off his bed. He placed it on the nightstand and carefully slid Ian off on to the plush pillow. Ian curled up smaller, tempting Mikhail to lift him back up. He grabbed a shirt from his dresser laying it over the borrower, he placed the hook just out of the way in case he moved in his sleep. Mikhail wouldn’t let Ian think he was trapped.

Mikhail got into his own bed, facing Ian with a sad smile. He’d been through a lot, it wasn’t fair he’d had to deal with all that. He would make sure whichever student it was didn’t have a chance to get near him again. He felt himself slowly drifting off to sleep, hoping Ian wouldn’t have run off tomorrow morning. His sleep was dreamless and he was thankful. He wasn’t happy when he was woken up by someone banging on his front door. He opened his eyes, sleepily looking towards the pillow. He couldn’t tell if Ian was still there, he wanted to check, but more bangs came. He sighed knowing he couldn’t take the time to talk with Ian while this was going on.

He slid out of bed and stalked over to his front door. He wasn’t expecting anyone he knew to be there and was ready to yell at the rude solicitor. He opened the door, getting far more annoyed when a student pushed past him into his home. He glared at the girl who invited herself over. She had been far too pushy from the start of the year and this was a breaking point. He had no time for her today, especially with how sure he was that this was Ian’s captor.

“Can I help you Anise?” he asked, voice dripping with annoyance. “I don’t particularly appreciate students barging in to my home.”

“I’m sorry professor,” she said, with no ounce of remorse. “Just that topic I’ve been bringing to you for the last few weeks. I know it sounds crazy, but I did have proof that I could use for the project. I know this sounds crazy but if you’d just let me look around for a few minutes I know I could find it. I’m positive it left with you when you held the study session.”

“Anise, I’ve told you before this is a scientific course, you will not be doing a paper on the folklore of small humanoid creatures,” Mikhail was barely controlling his anger. “I expect you to leave. Now.”

“Professor, just trust me!” she yelled. He’d had enough of this student and was ready to kick her out. Unfortunately there was an audible yelp from the bedroom, one that she had clearly recognized. She started walking towards the bedroom seeming sure this was her chance. “Professor that noise, I’m positive it’s my proof if you’d let me just-”

Mikhail had enough, he slammed his arm across the doorway she was just about to enter. He could tell he’d grown a large bit, but honestly couldn’t care less. She stormed into his home, going on about using a person as proof, and intended to just wander around. He glared down at her, not willing to put up with her much longer.

“That noise you heard was my brother, who you just woke up,” he growled. “I’ve had enough of this fantasy. I will be removing you from this class effective Monday. I will also be contacting the school about this conduct. And to entertain your theories, even if these humanoid creatures existed based on the folklore you so heavily have referenced, they would be sentient and equal to us in intelligence. I question your ethics based on how desperate you seem for this fantasy. This field expects a level of compassion which you clearly lack.”

“Wait no please just-” she tried to argue. She knew that Mikhail was respected in his field, it wasn’t good to be on his bad side.

“Get out of my home before I throw you out,” MIkhail’s voice was dark. He had definitely hit over a foot higher than normal, he was lucky this girl wasn’t focusing on that. She opened her mouth to try again, but she stopped as she met his glare. She slowly turned and walked out of the house. This was poor conduct, it would be handled and he’d be letting his family know about her. He slammed the door behind her, a bit harder than he’d intended. He tried to calm down as he walked back to his room, Ian was probably terrified. He couldn’t calm down enough to get his size back to normal, unfortunately.

Ian was sitting up on the pillow, the shirt pulled up around him. It looked like he’d been shaking. Mikhail sat on the floor in front of the nightstand, it made him just about eye level to Ian. He couldn’t bring himself to meet his eyes, he didn’t want to see him scared. It was bad enough he wasn’t a borrower, but he was pretty clearly bigger than his usual human size. Although he could luck out again with how oblivious Ian proved to be after last night. Ian seemed to be just as lost with how quiet the room was. Mikhail looked up a little, but couldn’t read Ian’s expression at all.

“You actually stopped them,” Ian said. Mikhail almost thought he heard awe, but that couldn’t be right.

“I told you I’d keep you safe,” he smiled a little.

“You said I was your brother.”

Mikhail blushed, he hadn’t meant to grow so attached. He didn’t mean to announce it like that either. “Yeah, I uh, I kind of think of you like that, after the last few months.”

“So what’s next if I stay here?” Ian asked. Mikhail looked at him with wide eyes.

“Then, we figure out the boundaries for us,” he answered. “You can stay in the walls or we can set something up out here. Up to you entirely.”

“Is it ok if I think you’re like a brother too?” Ian’s voice was small, Mikhail had to strain to hear it.

“I’d love to have a secret brother like you,” Mikhail smiled. He leaned his face closer to the pillow, just realizing he’d gotten down to his usual size. Ian crawled to the edge of the pillow hugging Mikhail’s nose. His smile grew and he carefully cupped his hand behind Ian. This wouldn’t be easy, but having a brother like Ian sounded pretty great.

#gt writing #gt #giant/tiny #gianttiny #g/t #g/t writing #OC:Ian #OC:Mikhail/Mik #OC:Mik/Mikhail

50 notes · View notes

monicashipslokius · 3 years

Text

Soulmates, Actually Pt 3

(read Part 1/Part 2)

Soulmates protect each other.

Loki paces the length of the small bathroom, turning after only two steps. On each turn they catch sight of themself in the mirror, as hard as they try not to. They don’t want to see the cowardice marring their own features. They don’t want to face themself, knowing they are standing here in relative safety at the cost of their soulmate’s.

Through the thin walls, Loki hears another pound on the front door. Mobius calls out, “I’m coming, I’m coming!”

Loki stops pacing and presses their ear to the bathroom door, straining to hear outside of it.

After the creak of a door opening, Mobius says, “Can I help you?”

“Are you Mobius M. Mobius?” Thor has a weakness for Midgard and its people. Even as he speaks to Mobius now, his voice isn’t quite as booming as Loki is accustomed to.

“That’s me. Are you selling something?”

“I...? No. May I enter?”

“I’d prefer if you didn’t. I’m kind of busy, you know?”

“I see,” Thor says. “Wait! I’m looking for someone.”

“Sorry,” Mobius says. The door creaks again, loud, like it tried to close but was blocked by a hard shoulder.

“I must insist,” Thor says, and there’s the booming authority Loki expected. Heavy footfalls step into the apartment. Loki instinctively leans away from the bathroom door. “Do you live here, or is this a closet?”

“Hey, why does everyone think that,” Mobius says, his following footsteps much softer. “My apartment is not that small.”

“It is,” Thor says, blunt as ever, though perhaps his own time on Midgard changed him a small amount, because he immediately adds, “But... nice. Very... brown.” A long, awkward pause. “Seeing this... I feel apologies are in order. I cannot imagine Loki hiding here.”

Loki knows that their usual love of decadent flair is what’s saving them now, but the words still sting. It’s one thing for them to think disparagingly about their new home. It is entirely another for someone else to speak badly of it. Even Thor.

Maybe especially Thor.

“It seems silly now,” Thor says. “I had heard you are their soulmate.”

“It doesn’t seem all that silly,” Mobius says, voice much softer.

“I mean no offense,” Thor says. “Only that you are not their type.”

“Oh? Too old?”

Thor laughs. “Too human. But consider yourself lucky, friend."

"I don't know, I'd think it'd be okay to be the soulmate of a god."

"Not this god," Thor says, and that familiar self-hatred claws at Loki's ribcage from the inside out. They place their hand over their chest, physically pressing down on the feeling, but it does not stop.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Mobius clips his words short.

Loki braces themself as Thor continues, "They never stay with anyone for long. They haven’t met a person yet who could hold their interest.”

“Maybe they just hadn’t met the right person,” Mobius says, stronger.

"Right people tend not to hang around my brother. You may have noticed that they are..." Thor pauses and Loki holds their breath. "A villain." Thor, at least, sounds pained to say it, though that is little comfort for Loki.

The word shouldn't hurt them. It is true. Despite their glorious purpose, they will never be seen as a hero, but only ever as the one who stands in the hero's way.

“Or instead," Mobius says, stronger still. Irritation oozes from his words. "Maybe they got so used to being seen as a villain that they started to think that’s all they are.”

The scratching in Loki's chest slows until it ceases entirely. Mobius.

But the calming effect of Mobius's defensive fury does not linger.

Thor holds his tongue a moment, and in that moment, a thick dread buds in the pit of Loki’s stomach. Thor may be oblivious at times, but he is not totally obtuse. And Mobius is angry enough for even him to take notice.

“Have you seen Loki, Mobius M. Mobius?”

“I think you should leave now,” Mobius says.

“So it’s true?” Thor asks, like he still doesn’t believe it. “You are Loki’s soulmate?”

“You don’t have to say it like that.”

“They must be deceiving you. Tell me where they are, and I will take them back to Asgard. Then you will be safe.”

“Loki’s not going anywhere with you,” Mobius says, stupidly brave. Stupidly perfect.

Outside a storm brews. Thunder rumbles the walls, as loud as Thor’s voice. “Do not stand in my way, Mobius M. Mobius.”

“No, you don’t get to order me around,” Mobius says. “You barge into my home and try to kidnap my soulmate. You didn’t even do it at a reasonable hour. We were asleep!”

“I am a god.” Lightning cracks outside the window, the light so bright, it flashes under the door of the bathroom. “You are a human.”

Mobius huffs out a breath. “I’m not giving them up. You’ll just have to kill me.”

Every nerve in Loki’s body, every pulse in their brain, the very breath in their lungs - all scream, No!

The bathroom door flies off its hinges from the force of Loki pushing through. Their daggers are in their hands, their armor has replaced their silk pajamas - there is no room for softness here.

Mobius glances behind him from where he’s standing, blocking the bathroom from Thor in the kitchen. “You broke the door,” Mobius says, entirely too calm for a man who was just about to throw his life away.

“We are going to discuss your blatant disregard for your own fragile life,” Loki tells him, stalking forward to Mobius’s side.

“I had it under control,” Mobius says.

Loki sucks in a deep breath to try to tamper down their roaring rage. “No longer will you risk yourself for me.”

“No, sorry, Loki.” Mobius crosses his arms. “You don’t get to boss me around either. I told you, soulmates protect each other. And that’s that.”

“You stupid, brave, impossible man.”

“Dying for you would be worth it.”

“And what am I to do at that point? Hm? Bid your corpse a fond farewell and move along?”

Mobius startles, like he hadn’t thought ahead that far. “Yeah, I guess.”

If Loki wasn’t holding daggers, they would grip him by the shoulders and shake him. “You have no idea what you are to me. You have no perception of how long I have waited for you. For us. For this tiny little room. For everything we shared last night. And all that we will share.”

Mobius’s eyes widen. “Loki -”

“No, Mobius. You will not be throwing your life away. Not now. Not ever. Not while I have strength enough to hold a blade.”

Mobius blinks. The surprise on his face lasts a moment longer, then softens entirely into fondness. “Let’s go to the store later. Buy some stuff. Spruce this place up a little. We can get a plant or two. And maybe a new bathroom door.”

Loki exhales, and the harshest of their anger slips away. “Only if we also buy you new clothes.”

“Hey, what’s wrong with my clothes?” Mobius is smiling now.

Loki almost mirrors it. Until he remembers their thunderous brother occupying the entire minuscule kitchen. Thor seems to lack his usual righteousness. Instead, he looks between Loki and Mobius like he has no idea what to make of them. His mouth hangs open but no sound comes out.

A moment, Thor tries, “Brother, you...” He closes his mouth. Opens it. “You... actually care for this little man?”

Loki’s answer comes easier than even they expected, “Yes.”

“I’m not that little,” Mobius says.

Outside the storm clears away and starlight returns. Inside, Thor lowers his hammer to his side, no longer holding it ready to fight. He stares at Loki for a long moment. “We thought you were dead. We mourned you.”

Loki’s impulse is to argue. They aren’t yet numb to the pain of Odin’s deception. Of Loki’s own monstrous truth.

But instead of drudging forward that pain, Loki draws strength from Mobius beside them. From the comfort of their home. From the promise of buying new drapes and bed sheets.

“I’m not going back,” Loki says, hating the way their voice cracks. Mobius inches closer to their side, and they stand taller.

“You cannot rule Midgard,” Thor says.

Loki glances at Mobius, who gives them a soft smile.

“Mostly,” Loki says, “I want to buy drapes.”

Mobius’s smile widens, and he dips his head, as if to hide it. Loki loses themself in the sight of such softness and warmth, until they remember their brother again.

Thor watches them, his confusion palpable. “This is not at all as father said it was.”

Loki tenses at the mention of Odin.

“A lot’s different since yesterday,” Mobius says. “Dubuque can really change a person, you know?” Mobius winks at Loki, and a fresh wave of comfort rolls through them.

“Yes,” Loki says. “Dubuque.”

“Perhaps I could return without you,” Thor says, confusion shifting gradually into something more sure. “If you hand over the tesseract.”

Loki pointedly refrains from glancing at the coat closet. As, to Loki’s surprise, does Mobius. Surely he had seen them place the scepter within. Surely he could parse together what the tesseract could be.

“You wouldn’t need it to buy drapes.” Thor’s grip tightens on the handle of Mjolnir, but he does not yet raise it again.

Loki’s body tenses like a bowstring. There is no way out of this then, without a fight. “You have no comprehension of its power, brother. Of what I could have, what I could achieve with it in my possession. With what I’ve been promised.”

“Promised?” Thor asks. “Promised by who?”

A chill creeps over Loki’s skin, inch by slow inch. They think of the creatures that invade their mind, that found them when they fell from the Bifrost.

You could have this, they whisper, even now. You are nothing without this.

“Loki?” Mobius whispers. “Are you okay?”

Shaking their mind free from the dark grasp, Loki thoughts travel instead to those same creatures wrapping Mobius in their viciousness. Tearing him down. Exploiting his deepest vulnerabilities.

The cold runs deep, all consuming.

With the tesseract still in Loki’s possession, maybe they could protect Mobius. Or, the opposite. Maybe those creatures will never stop hunting them until Loki finally does as they command.

When it was Loki alone, forgotten and fallen, following the icy commands was no question, when both vengeance and a crown were promised.

But Loki is no longer alone.

To Loki’s surprise, concern covers Thor’s face as well, and he has taken a step closer, hand half-lifted, as if in a halted attempt to reach out to them.

“The tesseract will not bring you happiness, Loki,” Thor says, and motions toward Mobius. “Not in the way your soulmate can. You must make a choice.”

“They don’t have to chose,” Mobius says. “I’m staying with them, regardless of what they want to do.”

“But they must,” Thor tells him. “I will be leaving here with either Loki or the tesseract. I’d prefer to do it without a fight.”

Mobius takes a step forward. “I already told you, Loki isn’t going anywhere.”

“If forced, I will take you both to Asgard,” Thor says.

Loki thinks of Mobius standing before Odin, of all the brave, protective things he would say to the All-Father in Loki’s defense. And Loki thinks of how fast Odin would cut him down, Loki’s soulmate or not.

“No,” Loki says.

Soulmates protect each other.

Loki disappears their daggers, then goes to the closet and draws open the door. They reach through Mobius’s brown suits and retrieve the scepter. It’s cold in their hand.

They could grab Mobius and teleport away. Together, they could go anywhere. Thor would need time to track them down. But they’d have to keep running. They’d never be able to stop.

Loki thinks of Mobius, sweating in the desert. Humans are weak, fragile things. Mobius would not be able to sustain that kind of life.

The scepter, the creatures, whisper to Loki, He will die anyway. Why shouldn't you have more?

"All my life, I’ve been in your shadow,” Loki says to Thor. Thor lifts his hammer, readying for the fight to come. “This is my chance to carve my own path. To find my own throne. The Midgardians are hapless. They are in desperate need of a ruler.”

Loki looks at Mobius and finds him watching Thor, body tense like he intends to jump in the way if Thor were to attack. He will die anyway.

“There is no happiness in the promise of a throne, Loki.” Thor frowns, and after a brief, sideways glance at Mobius, his eyes turn sad. “We have waited the same for a soulmate. You have found yours, while I am still waiting. I ask you, who lives in envy of who?”

A new feeling twists inside Loki - something like... pity? For Thor? No. Impossible. Thor has had a life filled with all of his whims being catered to. Ever the favorite. The favored.

Yet.

Thor has no Mobius of his own.

He will die anyway. But. Not yet. Not yet.

“To be honest,” Mobius says, drawing Loki’s attention. “Humans are kind of a drag. We fight all the time, can’t agree on anything. I know that’s half why you think you can fix it all, but really, it sounds like a bigger headache than it’s worth.” He shrugs. “You and I, we’ll do whatever you want. I’ve got your back 100%. But... if you were King of Earth, do you get any vacation days? Cause I got some places I really want to take you.”

Looking at Mobius, hearing his words, listening to the steady cadence of his voice, Loki warms from the inside out.

“We need to go to the beach. You saw my jetski picture, right?” Mobius turns to Thor. “You ever been on a jetski?”

Thor blinks at him. “...No?”

“You’ll love it. It’s so much fun. Out on the waves, just you and the ocean - with the wind in your hair, and the sun all bright.” Mobius turns his smile back to Loki, and Loki doubts any sunshine could ever be as brilliant as him. “What do you think, Loki?”

The cruel whispers grow dim. Thoughts of, You are nothing without a crown, are replaced with, What worth is a crown without him?

The chill burns away, until the scepter is too cold, too painful to hold.

Loki moves closer to the kitchen. Thor raises his hammer. Mobius hurries forward.

But everyone stops when Loki surrenders the scepter - the tesseract - to Thor. As soon as it is gone from their hand, Loki feels a heavy weight lifted away. The chill leaves entirely, and their mind is silent once more.

“You’ve made the right choice, brother,” Thor says. They lower Mjolnir to the ground to look closer at the scepter.

“Odin will not be pleased when you return without me,” Loki says.

Thor hums. “I will pass along your promise to behave yourself.”

“I made no such promise.” With Loki’s new weightlessness, a small, sly smirk slips onto their lips. It's shaky and unsure, but Thor doesn't mention it.

Thor slides his gaze to Mobius. “I think you will have your hands too full to do otherwise, with how quickly this one throws himself into trouble.” He pitches his voice low. “I like him. He’s small, but brave.”

Pride swells in Loki. They didn’t need Thor’s approval, but having it...

“Mobius M. Mobius!” Thor walks to Mobius and draws him into a tight hug. “Now my brother. I await the day our paths cross again!”

Mobius awkwardly pats him on the back. “Yeah, sure! Sounds great.”

As they break, Loki begins to steer Thor toward the door. Thor looks as if he also wants to wrap Loki in a hug, but thankfully thinks better of it. Instead, he simply says, "We will see each other again."

"We will," Loki says, a promise. And for now, it is enough.

Thor starts forward, when Mobius calls out, “Wait, you forgot your hammer.”

Loki and Thor both turn away from the door, toward the kitchen - where Mobius stands, hand gripping Mjolnir’s handle, holding it up off the ground. He brings it forward and hands it to Thor, who stares at him, mouth agape.

Mobius says, “Surprisingly light?”

Loki bites back a smile. They knew their soulmate was no ordinary mortal.

Thor looks at Mobius like he’s seeing him for the first time. “Only to those who are worthy. You are small in stature, but not in heart, Mobius M. Mobius.”

“Uh, thanks?” Mobius says. Softer, he adds, “I’m really not that small.”

When Thor is gone, with the slightly damaged front door bolted behind him, Mobius turns to Loki and says, “Told you I’d get rid of him.”

Loki reaches out, grabs Mobius by the shoulders, and pulls him into their embrace. They do not let go for a long time.

Mobius holds them back, nose tucked into the crook of Loki’s neck and shoulder. “I would have followed you,” he says, voice muffled. “You want to be king? We’d make it happen. You didn’t have to give it up.”

Loki will tell him of the whispers and the cold, of the dark promises made. Later. “Perhaps another time,” they say. “Plenty of life to find a throne of my own.” Though as the words leave them, they know they are only half true. Plenty of time for Loki. No time at all for Mobius. The creatures no longer whisper in Loki's mind but they still hear their mocking, He will die.

“I was thinking we could get a couple chairs while we’re out.”

Loki can’t help and doesn’t stop their grin, even as their heart aches. “See? My fortune is already changing.”

“I’ll buy you the best throne,” Mobius says. “You ever heard of La-Z-Boy?”

Loki closes their eyes, presses their forehead to Mobius's shoulder, and wonders how, with the cruel inevitability of human mortality, they will ever go on without this man.

#i wrote this #lokius #wowki #loki x mobius #fair warning this is pretty long if you pop open the readmore #ao3 link will come tomorrow #thor /#part 3 of 5 #soulmate au #avengers 1 divergence

59 notes · View notes

dizzydancingdreamer · 3 years

Text

Persephone’s Symphony | Day One | Hades

Hey lovelies— here is the next part! I wanted to pause here and add a little note: the word tiny is thrown around here. I don’t want this to hinder anyone of you to not read this because you think the word doesn’t apply to you. I want to make a couple things clear. 1) All shapes and sizes are beautiful and I, myself, am a wonderfully plump lady. 2) I don’t use the word as a physical description in a way meant to limit a ‘reader insert’ type of fiction— I use it because Bucky Barnes is a super soldier and anyone would be small to him. Thus I hope you can enjoy it the same way I can— because sometimes we all just need to feel like a super soldier could rip us in half. Stay safe my lovelies and please do enjoy!

Synopsis: In which he is the bad one— the dangerous one, the clunky one, the one who only knows how to break things— and she is the good one— the fragile one, the soft one, the one who knows how to put things back together— and he has to keep her alive long enough for anyone else— anyone who can do more than kill— to save her like she deserves to be saved— to save her from him. There are no pomegranates, no three headed dogs, and no requirement to stay— that is, if they don’t count an assassin on the loose out for her neck. In that case, three days in a safe house doesn’t feel like a long time— just long enough for Persephone and Hades to remember why opposites attract.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader (third person)

Warnings: some angsty moments but overall no warnings

Word count: 4.1k

Previous | Next

Master List

She’s tiny. That’s the only thing he can think for the first couple hours. She is so damn tiny and fragile and soft and he doesn’t know how to be around a human that tiny and fragile and soft. Maybe it’s worse because he has to keep this tiny human alive. He hasn’t had to do that before— all the other tiny people in his life have been perfectly capable of keeping themselves alive. Even Steve all those years ago, when he only came up to his shoulder—barely— would have fought tooth and nail to stay alive. Even then it always felt like Bucky was just there in case. Maybe that was just Steve though.

He blinks— he doesn’t want to think about the man right now. He can’t afford to get lost in his head. Gods only know if he starts thinking about those days— the ‘good’ old days— he won’t stop. Maybe not for days. Maybe because they’ll remind him that he’s not supposed to be here— that he isn’t made to keep tiny, gentle, grilled cheese cooking, question asking things alive. Usually he’s the one hindering people from being alive— hindering life itself. Usually it doesn’t bug him this much but he can’t help but equate the girl in the Caltech hoodie with life—

“Is what they say about New York pizza true?”

— And himself with death.

“S’alright— Chicago is better.”

He watches as she flips through a book that she had picked up off the coffee table a few minutes ago. The Big Book of Dogs. Is he supposed to laugh at that? She is— giggling and flipping through pages upon pages of puppies. It isn’t aimed at him, her musical, soft sounds. She isn’t laughing at him. It only feels like she is. He’s learned to separate the difference these days— it’s just in his head. Still, he has to turn away from her, using the guise— his job— of being a bodyguard to keep his gaze moving.

From the corner of his eye he watches as she lowers the book, peaking over at him from behind a peppy looking Alaskan Malamute— yes, he knows his dogs. He is one, after all.

“You know, I think there are quite a few people who disagree with you on that one.”

Bucky pretends to ignore the way she quirks a brow at him, her eyes drifting back to the page. He also ignores the way his heart spikes at the little movement. Snap out of it, Barnes. He stands, stalking to the living room window and pulling back the heavy green curtain. Nobody is out there— he didn’t expect there would be someone, he just needed to move. How many more hours?

“Thought you were asking me.” He quips, staring out towards the bayou where the water has turned grey and choppy.

He watches as the rain pours down the window pane, tap tap tapping in front of his nose as the sunlight surrenders to the misty storm clouds. As much as he hates to admit it, Wilson was right— the rainy season’s rolling in on the dot. Even he is starting to feel the effects, his bones beginning to leaden.

As if on cue, she yawns, setting down The Big Book of Dogs and curling her legs into her chest, hiding them beneath the mountain of fabric she wears. “I was gauging. Consider it a test.”

Bucky huffs— not sure if he’s annoyed because of her questioning or because of how, despite the tension still laced through his shoulder blades like sailors knots, he isn’t that bothered by it. Annoyed because he isn’t annoyed— that’s a first. He lets the curtain drop again and turns to the TV where Netflix lays open but unused, blocking out one mind numbing haze for another. What would they even watch together?

“Oh yeah? Did I pass?”

Maybe some cheesy sit-com. That feels harmless enough and he’s been catching up on a few of them. Some of them even make him laugh. Maybe that’s in poor taste though. He’s never had to deal with someone else’s grief before— he rarely deals with his own as is.

“Maybe it would be better to just not ask that.”

He doesn’t think before he says it— he doesn’t have time to, it slips out before he can grab it and shove it back in his stupid, sentimental mouth. “You sound like Steve.”

Fuck. Her head pokes up, her doe eyes somehow managing to meet his gaze despite how hard he tries to force his neck to turn in the other direction. How does one person look so soft? He can see the question in her eyes, the way they spark with intrigue. He watches in slow motion as her lips— not glossy like they had been in the picture but still just as pink— peel apart.

“Who’s Steve?” Her voice is too sweet— too sincere. Like she actually doesn’t know. Then again, maybe she doesn’t— they never really used his name.

Bucky can’t answer. It’s too early and Steve is too long of a story. One hundred years worth of story, to be precise. How is he supposed to fit all of that into one answer? He can’t. He can’t answer but he can’t not answer either— not when she’s looking at him like she wants to know every little thing about him.

Bucky can’t answer so he doesn’t answer. “You ask a lot of questions, don’t you?”

She sinks back against the leather cushions, pulling her hands into her sweater. He almost curses when she curls her knees closer to her body. He can’t really see them from under her hoodie but he can see the movement— the way she wraps her arms around her legs so that she looks like a tiny blob of fabric and a head. His chest squeezes at the sight of her pulling away from him. Can he ever say anything right?

He told Wilson— he told him that he wouldn’t be a good fit for the job. What, a man like him? Man, dog, wolf, asshole. What’s the difference? He was right, that’s all that matters. It’s been all of five hours and he’s already making her uncomfortable all because he can’t—

“You’re the one who brought it up.” She grumbles, her soft— less sweet— voice pulling him from his unintentional staring contest with her forehead. His neck flushes with heat. Shit.

Bucky sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I know it’s just— it’s a long story, doll.”

Again, it just slips out. Instead of wanting to push the word back into his lips this time, though, he wants to punch himself in the mouth. Doll? Really? He watches as her eyes blow wide, his stomach sinking when her pink lips peel apart again, her jaw going slack but none of her honeyed words coming out this time. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Immediately he begins running through apologies in his head. Of course none of them are actually worth their weight— not in gold or anything else. Not even in the energy it would take to say them. What’s he supposed to say? Sorry the last time I spoke to a woman was eighty years ago. That would be even more explaining. Damnit, Bucky!

He tries not to groan out loud, clenching his jaw, still staring into her eyes. Look away, you idiot! He can’t. He’s about to say something— or maybe he’s about to literally throw himself out the window, he isn’t exactly sure which is going to play out just yet— but before he can do either the delicate girl in the Caltech sweater speaks first.

“I— erm—” she squirms in her seat but her eyes stay latched on him the entire time— maybe she’s a fighter after all— “we have time?”

For a moment he just stares at her, lost in the way her nose scrunches, her lips pressing together like she’s the one who said something out of line. Like she, too, is contemplating punching herself in the face. That’s when he caves. It’s to save her from a broken nose. He repeats it like a mantra. He isn’t giving in because he’s weak, he’s giving in because it’s his job to make sure she’s safe— even from herself.

He takes a step forward, only now realizing he’s been standing in the middle of the room the entire time. Has he always been this fucking awkward? Nodding his chin towards the floor, the space in front of where she’s perched, he shoots her a look he can only hope resonates as something along the lines of ‘can I sit?’. She nods and he lowers himself to the ground in front of her, leaning against the side of the couch as gently as the super soldier can muster. Despite his efforts he still lands with a thud, the couch shifting backwards a couple inches. It’s not terrible— she only slightly flinches this time and he only kind of wants to bury himself alive.

“Not that much time—” he watches as her face drops, the way her her cheek twitches like she's sinking her teeth into it, and he hurries the rest of his sentence— “but if you ask—” he tries for a smile that feels more like the right side of his face seizing than anything— “then I’ll answer.”

He waits for a beat, his gaze locked on her hands which she pulls from her sleeves only to twist together again. He has to stop himself from looking down at his own hands— from thinking again about how fragile and delicate she is. He doesn’t have to look to know that both of her hands could fit in one of his. Especially his special hand. She hasn’t asked about it. A few times he’s caught her peeking at it, no doubt a million questions swirling behind those wide eyes of hers, but those are questions she has kept to herself. He wouldn’t blame her if she did ask, though— or if she was terrified.

“Alright,” his eyes flick back to her face, meeting her determined stare and avoiding the way his chest lightens, “deal.”

He nods.

“But—”

Oh no.

“You have to ask me things too. It’s only fair— that way we both know things about each other.”

It’s only fair. He doesn’t know what to say. Again. It seems that every time he feels like he’s beginning to figure her out he gets shoved on his ass. Literally— he is quite literally on his ass right now. All because of what? A little girl? A little girl with small hands and a stare worse than his?

A little girl who thinks he of all people deserves fair. He knew life was cruel but this is worse— this is evil.

“Ask away.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Wait, wait, wait— you can’t be serious!”

Her giggles sound more like music than laughter to him. Usually he hates music— the newer stuff at least, maybe Wilson was right; maybe he is an old man— but this is bearable. This is mesmerizing.

He glances up at her from over his shoulder, fighting the same smile that’s been threatening his lips for the better part of two hours now. He isn’t sure why exactly he does it. Maybe because he knows it would be nothing compared to hers. Maybe it’s because it doesn’t deserve to be compared to hers. He isn’t a religious man but it feels blasphemous to even suggest he could exist with a margin of the sanctity she exudes. He’s committed many sins— that he can say with certainty— but to propose that he is the same as her would be the worst one of all.

Of course, that doesn’t stop him from soaking up every pious laugh into his wicked skull— he isn’t a perfect man, after all.

“Deadly serious. Steve was pissed at me for weeks. How was I supposed to know she had a husband?” He is rewarded with more giggles, ones that set his chest on fire.

Is that what happens when demons spend too much time around angels— they start to burn?

She pulls the blanket she acquired around an hour ago over her face, muffling her laughter much to his dismay. “You could have asked her!”

Bucky lifts a shoulder before letting it flop back down again. “You’re right.”

This is how it has gone since he proposed she ask him questions. She asks him her question— usually something light and easy— favourite color, favorite food, what was the last thing he bought. That one threw him for a loop but he answered anyway— Chinese food. She had giggled at that. You don’t seem like a Chinese food kind of guy. She’s not wrong. That is usually what she does after the questions, though— giggles. Giggles and teases him. Tortures him. Same thing. He doesn’t even think she knows what she’s doing.

Then, of course, he asks her questions of his own. They’re pretty much the same— favorite animal, middle name, what Passadena is like. Warm and busy. That was her answer— he’s never been to SoCal so who’s to say whether or not she was telling the truth. He really doesn’t care. He was more paying attention to the timbre of her voice— the way she makes normal words sound important. He didn’t know he could be so enthralled listening to someone talk about a cat named mittens.

For the first hour or so it was questions like that. The easy, no commitment kind. He wouldn’t have minded if they had stayed like that but, as he kept answering, she had grown more and more confident. Honestly, he didn’t mind that either. It was interesting to watch as she became comfortable around him. Well, more comfortable than before— more comfortable than he would have thought she could be around a guy like him. Her knees eventually pushed out of that hoodie and she relaxed into the couch. It was strange— completely and utterly strange.

By the second hour she had braved the first of many hard questions. It wasn’t what he thought it would be— still nothing about his arm— it was nothing close to that, actually.

It was about his mother.

Maybe it wasn’t supposed to be a hard question but it was, unexpectedly so. His mother. He hasn’t thought about his mother in years. Longer. Decades. He wasn’t expecting to feel so guilty about it but there he was, feeling like his throat was being crushed, while describing to the tiny, lovely girl— who has just lost her own mother— his mother’s lily of the valley perfume. He assumed that’s why she asked— because she misses her mother. He doesn’t blame her. He just never thought that he would miss his mother, too, today.

The rest weren’t as bad as that one. They still made his jaw ache, sure, but not like that. The ones about Steve were the only ones remotely comparable. How did you meet him? What was he like? What’s your favourite story with him in it? That was the last question— the one that made her giggle herself into a half hanging, half sprawling position over the arm of the couch— the position she is currently in right now.

He doctored the answers a little bit— he figured now isn’t the right time to tell her he’s pushing a hundred and ten— but he kept the good parts. Like how Steve and he had run through the streets of Brooklyn that night— Steve without a shirt and him in nothing but a pair of boxers that he is pretty sure to this day had belonged to her husband— being chased by the New York police. Good times.

“What, erm, what was her name?” Her voice is extra gentle— airy.

She’s nervous or maybe out of breath. He can’t quite tell, she’s too flopped over to get a proper look. She’s breathtaking either way.

All of a sudden it’s extra hard to fight back his smile. “I thought it was my turn to ask a question.”

Sitting up, she pools back into her seat. She scrunches her nose at him but doesn’t object. He can see that she wants to, though. Her eyes hide nothing. Then again he’s been trained to read people— to see the minute tick of her jaw and the invisible pulsing of her pupils. Invisible to anyone but him. Invisible to anyone who isn’t a monster— the big, bad wolf. His borderline smile dies quickly and he can’t bring himself to search for it again. This is how it should be.

Bucky clears his throat, mulling over what to ask her next. His eyes drift over the tan hoodie, the frays on the cuffs and the fact that there are no strings, and, like that, he has an idea.

“What’s the deal with that hoodie?” He tries to make it casual but he really does want to know— it’s like four sizes too big, there has to be a story.

He tries to make it casual but she still sobers. Like her hands receding once more into the cuffs of her sweater, the last remnants of the giggly girl fade from his line of sight. He chases it as far as he can, watching as her fingers disappear completely and lingering just in case it’s only a fluke. But no, they don’t come back, and he wishes he could disappear with them.

“It was—” her tongue pokes out, swiping against her pink lip and making it shine— “it was my dad’s. He, uh, he went to Caltech too. Was part of their alumni.”

The super soldier nods, pulling his legs up as well, hoping that by copying her she’ll see it as a signal to keep going. He doesn’t want to speak over her and accidentally derail her thoughts. He wants to know about her dad— her whole family actually. Whatever is important to her, like the hoodie.

“We used to go to these big alumni dinners and he would talk at them. Families like us were invited I guess— like a thank you of sorts.” Her eyes take on a faraway look, still latched on his but glassy and distant, no longer actually seeing him. It’s a look he understands too well. “One time he pulled me on stage with him. I think maybe I was thirteen? He said—” she stops, swallowing so hard her throat bobs, and he has to shove his hand under his leg to keep from reaching out— “ah, I’m sorry. He said ‘this girl right here— this is my daughter! If you think I’m good at what I do then you should see her. She’s something I tell you— Gonna be the best this school has ever seen!’”

His chest tightens— not necessarily from her story but from the way her voice cracks, her soft tone becoming scratchy. She swallows again and he hates it. He hates that he can see tears ready to fall and he hates that she’s even here with him under these circumstances.

He hates that he’s still grateful to be here anyway, being the person who she tells her story to.

“Was he right?” He knows it isn’t his question but he has to say something— anything— to make this better. He has no idea if this is it but it’s worth a shot.

Her brows push together, her head tilting slightly to the side, much too elegantly to be normal— are all women this pretty or is it just her? She blinks, clearing some of the mist, eyes drawing over his face. She traces across his brows, down his nose, stopping on his lips for a pulse— like tracing out the rhythm to a song only she can discern. Everything she does is like music. It must just be her.

“What?” She doesn’t say it rudely; she says it like she didn’t hear him— like she was too far lost in the wonderland of her memory to hear anything— and his chest tightens even further.

“You said your father told everyone you were going to be the best— were you?”

He doesn’t take his eyes off of her, slowing his words and waiting for the recognition to creep in. It takes a moment but it does, the last of the glass evaporating into something else.

“I, uhm, I don’t know—”

“You do.” He presses— he can hear the edge of that something in her tone. The downplay is scribed over her feature— lowered eyes, flat mouth, trembling fingers— she wants to say something.

“What do you even know?”

About anything going on in my head— yeah, that’s not familiar at all.

Bucky doesn’t flinch when she hisses the words at him— partly because, despite the clear ice in her words, he doubts they came out as hard as she was hoping they would. Her voice isn’t made to sound wretched. He knows she could tell him the filthiest things— tear him down to the last peg, spit his name out like a curse— and she would still sound like an angel. That makes her dangerous— or at least it would if she didn’t already have tears welling up in those big eyes of hers again.

He flicks a brow, letting one corner of his mouth tick up, telling himself that it’s only for her peace of mind— to let her know that he isn’t angry at her. That he gets it. That sometimes he feels so fucking confused and hurt and scared that he, too, wants to hiss at people because at least then they leave him alone. Yeah, it’s only for her peace of mind.

“Try slamming the ‘you’ harder next time—” he draws the word out, exaggerating the motion while keeping his features a mixture of schooled and relaxed— “usually works out better.”

Her hands— which have been tangling over the collar of her hoodie— drop into her lap with a thunk, her eyes rolling. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome— but you never answered.”

She shoots him a deadpan stare— well, sort of. She never actually stopped looking at him so her face just morphes from vexed to blank. So far it’s his least favourite expression— he would rather she just got angry. He’d rather see fire— or ice— than nothing.

“I thought it was my turn?” Doesn’t she know that the more she avoids the question, the more he wants to know the answer?

Bucky doesn’t let up— he will if she actually tells him to drop it but she hasn’t and he doubts she will— she’s too determined to win. “Consider it payment for your extra questions.”

He holds her gaze still, waiting for the moment she folds. It takes longer than he expects it would, sitting in silence with her eyes on him for almost three minutes. He almost breaks around two and a half minutes. The girl has a way of looking at him like she can see right into his head. Still, he holds, waiting, waiting, waiting until finally— there it is!

Light a light shining in the darkness, her mouth pulls into a merciful smile— well, if mercy means the coy glint in her eye, that is. “I was the best.”

The super soldier nods, finally letting his gaze drop. He doesn’t say anything— he doesn’t have to. His point has already been made. He never wanted to be right. He just wanted her to say it. Not for him but for herself. He doesn’t let himself mull over what that says about him. Nothing good. That’s the only answer. It says nothing good about him, the lengths he’s already willing to go to keep this soft, icy girl safe. Him, a monster. It only tells him that he’s selfish— but he already knew that. Those are thoughts for another time.

“Your turn.” He reminds her, leaning back against the arm of the couch, all but aware of the foot of space between his head and her hand which is scratching over the leather behind him.

There is no pause this time— no beat, moment, or minute. Just like that she’s back, moving on to the next topic, almost as though she has had the question queued for ages now, dying to know the answer. He supposes it’s only fair— she let him ask his questions.

“What was her name?”

Her voice lacks the airy note it had held the last time she asked, clearly over waiting, and he has to turn to the window to hide the way he finally cracks, his lips sloping up in a grin that’s both too alien and too familiar. It tastes too much like the old days— like peach schnapps and movie theatre popcorn. She’s not ready for that. He knows because he isn’t.

“Delores.”

_______________

Tag List: @xhollycowx @remembered-license @dumble-daddy @hellotvshowtrash @thesummerbucky (if i missed anyone I am so sorry please shoot me a message and I’ll fix it)

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes imagine #bucky #bucky fic #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky imagine #mcu #mcu fic #marvel cinematic universe #marvel cinematic universe fic #Persephone's Symphony

143 notes · View notes

ren1327 · 3 years

Text

Close to Me

A Huskerdust/Angelhusk tumblr exclusive fic based on Ellie Goulding's "Close to Me" feat. Diplo and Swae Lee.

Part of the Light up the Night storyline

CW: Lots of cussing, mentions of sex and bullying Moxxie

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

SLAM!

Charlie jumped when she heard a door upstairs slam, then a hard pounding on wood before a frustrated yell had her on her feet.

She nearly ran into Husk as he stalked to the bar, grabbing a bottle off the shelf and uncorking it, taking several large gulps.

“Um…Everything good, Husk?” She asked.

Niffty suddenly hopped past, whining softly to herself as she leapt into the kitchen, hearing pots and pans banging.

Charlie looked at Husk, who had started on a second bottle and quickly followed the cyclops girl.

“Hey, Niffty?” Charlie asked.

Niffty was quickly measuring out flour and muttering to herself as she grabbed some eggs.

“Sad brownies?” Charlie asked as Niffty grabbed a block of fudge, then turned a grabbed a second.

“Sad brownies.” She said and turned to tie her hair in two short pigtails and wash her hands.

“What happened?” Charlie asked when Niffty gave her a bowl and whisk.

“Oh, Miss Charlie…” Niffty sighed and started chopping nuts. “It was awful!”

EARLIER...

“Dance with me, Husk.” Angel teased as they walked past a club, Niffty peeking inside and grinning.

“We gotta get this stuff back to the hotel, Ang.” Husk said. “Some other time, okay?”

“Fiiiiine!” Angel huffed and reached for Husk’s hand.

Husk pulled his fingers away and crossed his arms.

Angel blinked. “The fuck?”

“Not here, Angel.” Husk said and looked at an old poster of Angel in drag.

Angel’s eyes followed his and he scoffed.

“Are ya serious?” He asked and stalked ahead, Niffty looking from Husk to Angel before hopping to the former’s side.

“Husky, what’s going on?” She asked.

“Nothin’, Niff.” He grumbled.

The walk back was tense and silent as they all made it back into the hotel.

Angel dropped his things on the counter and went up to his room, Husk cursing and following after his boyfriend once the groceries had been put away.

Niffty cocked her head and leapt up the stairs, hearing muffled shouting.

“…fuckin’ scared to be seen with me?”

“…know damn well I don’t give a shit!”

“Be honest Husk!” Angel yelled as Niffty placed her ear near the door. “Ya think I’m disgusting or somethin’? Think I’m too much of a slu—”

“Shut up!” Husk yelled. “I just…I don’t think…Ang…we’re…not good enough to been seen together…”

Niffty squinted her eye, Husk voice very low.

“Good en---Good enough?!” Angel yelled and there was the sound of glass breaking.

Niffty ran behind a plant as Husk ran out, a perfume bottle smashing behind his feet as he turned.

“Angel…I didn’t mean it like that…Angel!” Husk yelled as the door slammed. He pounded on the door before yelling in frustration and going down the stairs.

NOW...

Niffty sighed. “I think I get what Husk meant. I hear him talking with Mimzy when she’s over."

“Oh?” Charlie asked as they waited for the brownies to bake.

“It’s not Angel isn’t good enough.” She looked up at Charlie. “It’s Husk. He thinks he’s not good enough to be seen with Angel.”

“And so Angel…oooooh.” Charlie said. “What should we do?”

“Brownies and milk.”

“Right! Any alcohol will make Angel spiral!” Charlie said. “He’ll lose all his progress!”

“…No, milk just taste better with brownies….” Niffty said with a frown.

“Right, right, right…” Charlie laughed awkwardly. “Sorry.”

Niffty huffed and heard the oven ding, taking the brownies out and letting them cool as she set up a tray.

“Ya know, Miss Charlie, sometimes we just gotta do what’s best for people in their own way.”

“But Angel staying clean is best for him—”

“Angel, not the hotel.”

“I…I think I have an idea. But I might need some help.”

She grimaced as she took out her phone and shot a text.

“Okay, Niffty, we might need a few more batches of brownies…” Charlie said. “And some of the good liquor I know you stowed away for this kind of situation. Let’s move all this to the home theater. And make sure the front room is clear.”

“Why both rooms?”

“That’s such bull!” Loona said as she downed another shot.

“How can he imply he’s better than you?” Octavia added.

“Yeah, Angie, you’re like, the fucking best!” Cherri said and stuffed another brownie in her mouth.

“Thanks gals.” Angel said, sniffing and taking another tissue from Millie. Then another shot.

Niffty sat on one of the sofas, a weird cartoon playing on the screen no one was paying attention to. She quietly excused herself and hopped to the other side of the hotel where Husk was drinking from another bottle as Blitzo chattered away.

“Listen, they all throw fits, but just have really rough angry se—”

“Sir!” Moxxie interrupted. “The best response is proper communication. As a happily married man, I can say with confidence—”

“No one cares about your boring married life!” Blitzo said and pushed Moxxie off his stool.

“Blitzy Dear…” Stolas cooed. “Aren’t we in a committed relationship?”

“Well I mean, yes.” Blitz said with a blush. “But! Marriage makes it less…sexy.”

“I see. But being my consort is much more…enticing?” Stolas purred, leaning against his partner.

“Uh…”

“Fellas!” Mimzy chided. “This isn’t helping.”

Husk was sobbing now. “I fucked up again…”

“Oh, Husker…” Mimzy said and rubbed his shoulders. “Alastor! Can’t you help us?”

The Radio Demon looked up from his drink, cocking his head. “Oh, I’m trying, my Love.”

“Tryin—Alastor! What are you up to?” The shorter demon asked her lover.

Niffty chirped and gasped, running back to the theater.

She burst in to see the same scene she had just escaped from.

Husk blubbered.

“He’s so fuckin’ beautiful, Mimz!” He said. “Like, look at ‘im! Hic! ‘Den look at me! He’s too good fa’ me and I hate…”

Angel’s eyes were transfixed on the screen.

“Hate how people look at us. ‘Dis tall fuckin’ babe and his shlubby boyfriend!”

“You’re not shlubby—” Mimzy said.

“Yes, I am!” Husk said and hiccupped. “I’m an ugly old man and he’s just! Just!”

“Just what?” Mimzy asked, side eying Blitzo and Stolas escaping into the hall to a bedroom.

“He’s fuckin’ perfect! He’s pretty an’, an’ has a nice voice…His cute widdle snore an’ man! Can he shoot, Mimz! He’s so fuckin’ vicious when he wanna be!” Husk said, waving his bottle around. “He looks so happy when he’s mowing down fuckers! Yeah, I snap at ‘im. But he can always tell when I’m bullshitting ‘im. We get in our little back and forths an’…he does dis little pout that melt me, ya know?”

Angel chuckled.

“His laugh…” Husk continued Mimzy carefully took the bottle. He mixed his drink with a smile. “Fuckin’ infectious. An’ he always smells so fuckin’ good. He looks at me like…like I’m da best damn ting in da world, ya know?”

He smiled into his glass.

“When Angel is…well, if anyone makes it outta here…I hope it’s Angel…I want ‘im happy.” Husk said. “I love him—”

Angel tackled him on screen, and everyone was shocked to see Angel had sprinted down the halls to kiss Husk's face.

“Love ya too, Husky!” Angel yelled happily, kissing the cat demon's cheeks and lips over and over.

Husk clutched him tight in a hug. “I’m sorry, Baby.”

“I know, I know, Husky.” Angel whispered. “Let’s get ya sobered up, Baby. Then we can cuddle with Nuggs.”

“Love Nuggs.” Husk mumbled as Angel picked him up, his wings dragging behind them.

��Aw~” Millie cooed as the girls joined the rest of the group in the front.

“Well, it’s late.” Charlie said.

Vaggie placed her hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “Feel free to stay the night.”

They suddenly heard pounding from Blitzo and Stolas’s room.

“Ew.” Loona and Octavia said.

“I just fixed that damn wall!” Vaggie huffed and shook her head.

Niffty offered her the last brownie, the taller demon smiling at her as they dispersed.

Angel rubbed the base of Husk’s ears as he purred into his chest fluff.

“Ya wrong, Baby.” Angel said.

Husk moaned sleepily.

“We good.” Angel said, pulling the other into a kiss. “Together.”

“But…”

“Shut up.” Angel chuckled. “Just stay close to me. And love me like ya do, okay?”

“Love ya, Angel...” Husk agreed.

“Love ya too, Husky~”

#hazbin fanfic #huskerdust #angelhusk #alastor x mimzy #stoliz #moxxiemillie #m and m #chaggie #feat.#hazbin angel dust #hazbin husk #hazbin charlie #hazbin niffty #hazbin cherri bomb #helluva loona #helluva octavia #hazbin fat nuggets #tumblr exclusive

82 notes · View notes

revengeoftheantichrist · 3 years

Text

Red Flags

Warnings: Serial killers, breaking and entering, torture, manipulation and broken bones AN: Huge thank you to @9layerdevilfoodcake and the lovely Carissa for bouncing some ideas and beta reading this while I was struggling!

AO3

Michael had enough. He was tired and hungry, getting nothing more than delirious in this forest. He stood on shaky legs, not caring about the blood of the goat he just killed. He didn’t know where he was going, just letting his feet carry him to wherever they pleased. He no longer cared about the destination. His surroundings faded into nothingness, until a familiar white-picket fence came into view. He finally focused on his surroundings, immediately starting to sob when he recognised where he was. His childhood home, his grandmother’s house. His body must have craved the familiarity and the warm embrace that only she could provide. But like every other mother figure in his life, she was dead, and he blamed himself. With bleary eyes he pushed open the squeaky gate. The smell of roses made the memories rapidly flash through his mind. With a deep breath, he opened the door.

The house had been untouched for years. Dust and cobwebs everywhere. He thought of his grandmother watching the house fall into this state of decay. Watching.

He felt the eyes of the house next door on him. He refused to look out the window. He didn’t want to see the looks of disgust and pity. He wiped his eyes and stood a little straighter. This was his house now. He could do whatever he wanted here. No one to answer to, no more deadlines and most of all, no more older blonde woman dictating his life. ////

He stared at himself in the mirror. The stubble and lack of sleep seemed to age him. His hair was no longer perfectly styled, it was wild and uneven. The more he looked at himself the more his face began to morph into the women in his life. He hated it. He didn’t want to look like the woman that threw him out at his lowest. Or the woman who, even in her death, could not accept him as hers. He carried the ghosts of next door with him, and he’d do anything to alleviate himself of that burden. He could only change his appearance for so long. Hair dye would eventually fade; contacts would need to be removed and he wasn’t willing to put himself under the knife.

The smell of blood on his clothes pulled him out of his thoughts. The mirror reflected the decrepit house he was in, turning his nose in disgust. With the last of his strength, he mustered a tiny bit of magic, using a spell to clean the house. He walked through the house as it returned to it’s former glory, remembering his own attempts at interior design when he was younger, looking up the beams and archways where he would nail his ‘gifts’ to his grandmother. Times were simpler then. He shook his head of the nostalgia, hoping the plumbing was still working; he needed a nice hot shower.

//// None of the clothes in the closet fit him anymore, he didn’t realise how much he had grown. For now, a towel was the best he could do until his other clothes were out the dryer. He spent his time scouring the house for legal documents, anything that entitled him to some money and the deeds of the house. He needed to get this all under his name, just in case his grandmother used that stupid medium to undermine him. He tugged open the last drawer. Bingo. Everything he needed conveniently placed in one place. Money, a will and the deeds of the house. He would need to go to whatever legal office to get it sorted. The dryer still had time to go. With a big sigh, he sat on the couch. The one that faced the ‘other’ house. He gave a smile to those still watching him. He must have looked demented by the reactions he got from them. The exhaustion and hunger were catching up to him, succumbing to sleep on the couch.

////

It was morning when he woke up. He let his towel fall with a big stretch. Thus was his house; he could do anything. Even walking around naked. He kept the blinds and curtains that faced that house open. Let them watch. He pulled his warm clothes on. The detergent brought back memories, he’d buy a new scent when the time came. He grabbed some cash and whatever documents he needed for the day, venturing out into the big bad world.

////

Humanity deserved to perish simply for the time it took at the bank. The manger was an old lady, greying blonde hair and a pair of ill-fitting glasses. Michael thought she was extremely rude and didn’t hide his distaste when he spoke to her. She asked far too many questions for such a simple procedure. “Young man, aren’t you far too young to be accessing these funds?” she asked, looking over her glasses. “I can’t control when my entire family dies now can I,” he spat back, sick of her already. She continued to look him up and down as she typed away. Printing something off, she slipped a booklet of paperwork to him. “Everything has been approved, your card should arrive in the next few days. Can I do anything else for you?” “I’d like to take out some cash.” “How much?” “$500.” She paused, “what are you planning on doing with that?” Michael was getting beyond irritated, his jaw clenched, and he rubbed his temples. “There’s no need to be so rude young man,” she huffed. Michael gave her a sarcastic smile before snatching the money and walking out of the bank. The world would be better off without her. He’d deal with her soon. ////

Michael returned home with numerous bags of clothing and food. He would learn how to cook for himself, takeout was not sustainable. The pantry was stocked with basic essentials, but most of it was stocked with candy and other snacks. No one could stop him from indulging in his gluttony now.

His wardrobe was full of blacks and reds, the perfect colours for him. He was most looking forward to the black jumpsuit. It stood out to him in the store, a style he had never tried before. His fingers drifted over the seams when he tried it on, turning and admiring the various angles in the mirror. He looked up to the clock through the mirror, it was almost 5pm, if he didn’t leave now, he would miss her leaving. ////

Michael waited for the old bank manager to leave. Biding his time in the shadows. He watched her as she said her goodbyes in her shrill voice, then as she walked to her car. Michael stalked behind her, waiting for her to get in. As she got comfortable, she dropped something by her foot pedals. When she reached down to grab it, Michael took the opportunity to get in the car and lock the doors. He smiled at her when she screamed. The parking lot was empty, no one would hear her. “Shhh,” Michael put a finger to his lips, the other hand held up a gun. It was one of Constance’s that she had hidden in the house. The woman suddenly stopped, her shaking hands on the wheel. “You’re going to drive, and I’m going to give you directions,” he said, his tone left no space to argue. She nodded, tears in her eyes, hoping he would let her go eventually.

////

They pulled up outside the murder house. Michael got out first, taking the keys from the ignition. The woman stayed in the car, still shaking. She wasn’t given much time to think, Michael dragged her out of the car and up the steps, his hand over her mouth. Her legs flailed around, heels falling off and feet dragging on the ground. Sill, Michael paid her no mind, not even as she thumped down the stairs when he threw her into the basement.

He felt eyes on him again as he went into the kitchen, looking for something sharp. When he got to the basement door, it was blocked by none other than Dr. Harmon himself. “You don’t have to do this kind, you know you’re better than this,” he tried to convince Michael. “You didn’t have to cheat on your wife, now here we all are, miserable in the same fucking house,” Michael spat back. “He didn’t give Harmon a chance to respond, teleporting into the basement where the woman cowered in the corner.

“Please, I’m sorry if I did something, there’s other ways to solve this,” she cried. “I need to get home to my grandkids,” she tried to appeal to his softer side. He continued to stalk towards her, ignoring her and inspecting the sharp knife. “You’re far too old to still be this rude. I think that it’s a habit that can’t be solved anymore,” Michael replied, sounding disappointed. The woman couldn’t back away any further, stuck to the wall. Michael got down to her level, wiping away her tears. “You have grandkids?” She rapidly nodded, hoping he changed his mind. “I had a grandma too. Looked just like you,” he took a blonde hair and sniffed it, it didn’t smell like her. “At least she had basic manners. And, she wouldn’t be caught dead in this hideous number,” he pointed out. He had to give Constance credit where it was due. “Do you want to know what happened to my grandma?” he whispered in her ear. She was too shaky to respond. “I killed her too,” he whispered again, this time his voice cracked a little; remembering the day he found her dead in this very house. Even if she was a ghost, she could have at least spared him a hug. His eyes began to well up. The woman took this as an opportunity to reach out, placing her hand on her face. He snapped back to her, taking her hand in his. “But no one can ever replace her,” his voice still shaking. He felt like a little boy again. He could feel the pity from the woman. She wasn’t scared of him anymore and he didn’t like that. He was no longer a child. He had a greater purpose. Without hesitation, Michael sliced her throat, letting himself be covered in her blood. He looked at his reflection in the knife. Maybe this was the look for him, covered in blood. He licked his fingers, tasting the liquid. “I’ll save the heart for later,” he thought to himself, before ripping it out and making use of one of the fridges. This was one way to pass the time and maybe, it would finally get his father’s attention. //// A car was found on a random highway. In it was the mangled corpse of the owner, and a simple letter signed by ‘the Alpha’. This marked the beginning of a new wave of violence in southern California. A serial killer was on the prowl. The victim profile was quite strange. Typically, killers would choose young women. However, this killer liked older blonde women, usually grandmothers or mothers. It scared you regardless, worried that one day the preference might change. You worried for your co-workers too, many of them fitting the description. The thought that you might have even interacted with the culprit made your skin crawl. ////

Things would inevitably go wrong if one were fuelled by bloodlust alone. Michael had broken into the wrong house. The woman that pissed him off at the supermarket lived a few doors down. Regardless, he was curious as to who lived here. The home was so different to what he was used to. The interior design choices were not the standard ‘live, laugh, love’ and farmhouse kitchen with seashell bathrooms. This house was nice, it had a younger feel to it, the heels by the door further proof of his theory. He quietly made his way up the stairs, looking into every room and taking it all in. He finally found the occupied room. The dark-haired woman was fast asleep in her bed. Comfortably sank into her pillows. He adjusted the blinds a little so he could see better. The way the moonlight reflected off her face took his breath away. His fingers twitched, he wanted to take her home this instant. He could take care of her, he knew he could. He liked a challenge however, he wanted her to come to him. He didn’t know how long he stood and stared at her, only leaving once she stared to stir. He’d be back. ////

Michael’s heart was jumping out of his chest when he arrived back to the murder house. The residents were surprised he didn’t come home with another victim or even a drop of blood on him. His face was flush and he was in deep thought. Luckily for the residents, souls were not congesting the house, as Michael would make sure to burn the new souls as soon as he could. He whispered nonsense to himself as he made his way up to the attic. His trance was interrupted by his foot hitting a box. Had it always been there? He slowly took the lid off, finding an old camcorder and lots of tape. Was he living in the movie ‘sinister’? He was the scariest thing in this house, no ghoul could ever top him.

The box gave him something to do for the rest of the night. Returning with some snacks and in his pyjamas. The entertainment didn’t last long. It was just shitty home movies from former residents. It got worse when they’d come forward and explain them. He turned his face in disgust at the last one; a homemade sex tape. He gagged before turning it off. The sun was rising, telling him to go to bed. As he put the camcorder way, he had a genius idea.

////

You felt weird when you woke up. It was as if someone had been watching you. Your blinds were slightly open, and your bedroom door ajar. Had someone been in? As you walked through the house, something just seemed a little off. Things were ever so slightly out of place. There even seemed to be less fruit juice this morning than you were sure you had last night. Maybe it was the paranoia of the current situation getting to you. You sighed and shook your head before going to get ready for the day.

////

You hated working in the family and wills sector of the legal profession. You were hoping to make the move to fashion law soon, just waiting for the right opportunity. You really weren’t made for the requests of dead people and their bickering relatives.

You greeted one of the partners. Ms Grace everyone called her. She was your mento and a mother figure to you out here in the big bad legal world. Hopefully, she’d give you a good reference when you left. “New client for you today, just… entire dead family,” she whispered the last bit, making a cutting gesture with her hand. “That sounds horrible.” She nodded, before letting you set up for the day. ////

It was afternoon before said client showed up. Your office phone rang informing you of his arrival. A tall, blond man sat in the waiting room; his eyes widened in recognition when he saw you. You decided to ignore it. “Hello, are you Mr. Langdon?” “I am.” “Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, in Y/N and I’ll be taking your case,” you held your hand out for him to shake. It was comfortably warm. “Please, call me Michael.” You nodded and smiled, before leading him to your office. “Any refreshments before we get started?” He shook his head. From the outside, his case looked simple However, the deaths in his family left a convoluted mess, but you were sure Mr Langdon would get what he wanted. He was the only legal and living heir after all. You chatted away as you printed off and filled out the relevant forms. The conversation came easy. It had been a while since someone had caused butterflies in your stomach. You weren’t unprofessional however, keeping it professional with clients. When all was done for the session, you saw him out and waved him off. The interaction with him had left you a little flush. The receptionist giving you a knowing look.

////

This was totally unplanned. Michael wasn’t expecting to see you so soon. He thought that maybe his father had a hand in this, a reward for his hard work. He made his way back home, keeping the packet you gave him close, it still faintly smelled of you. He sat on the couch facing the other house. Images of you occupying his mind. It all got too much, lazily stroking himself to the thought of you that afternoon. ////

He left the house again, camcorder in hand. He pressed record as soon as he got inside your house. Filming every little detail leading up to your room. Even filming himself waving in the hallway mirror, as if he were recording and innocent home video.

He slowly opened your door. You accidently left the lamp on that night, giving him the perfect lighting. He zoomed in on your face before getting closer. Your duvet was blocking the view, reaching forward to carefully move it a little. Running his thumb over your lips and getting it on camera. He groaned at the softness. His fingers skimmed over your face, neck and collarbones. He watched as your nose crinkled a little at the touch. Cute. His evening plans were abruptly cut short when your phone began to ring. At this hour? Who was it? You began to stir at the invasive sound. Michael didn’t have time to run, transmuting out the house as fast as he could.

////

In his free time, Michael indulged in all that his family would disapprove of. And nothing could vex Constance Langdon more than her shitty grandson doing all types of drugs. He liked the feeling weed gave him. It helped him relax after the adrenaline rush of a kill. Sometimes, the murder house had a horrible stench of weed and rotting flesh, prompting the residents to keep the windows open. He even tried other things, like Acid and MD. He didn’t like the restlessness they gave him. He especially hated when his face would morph in the mirror, turning him into the people he hated the most. He wondered what it would be like to get high with you. He wanted to melt into you just like he did the floor when the THC finally got him. If he couldn’t get to you that night, he would replay the tapes on the big screen and jack off, wishing you were there. The residents of the house watched in disgust and horror. They may have done terrible things but surely, they weren’t this bad.

////

Mr Langdon’s case had successfully ended, he had gotten what he wanted. You bumped into him a week later, on your lunch break. “Oh? Y/N? so nice to see you,” he stood in the line at your favourite coffee shop. “Like wise,” you smiled up at him. “Would you like anything? I insist. It’s the least I can do.” You tried to reject his kindness but didn’t want to hold up the line, giving him your order. You both sat at a quiet table, waiting for your drinks and pastry. “I don’t usually see my clients on lunch breaks.” “Former client,” he pointed out, taking a sip of his coffee. You watched him add five packets of sugar and wondered why he didn’t just get a sweeter drink. Your conversation continued, with your shoes constantly touching under the table. It felt very childish, but maybe you were missing the playfulness in life. Your phone alarm went off, indicating you had to get back to work. As your phone was unlocked, Michael took it and tapped his number in, leaving you at the table with a wink.

////

These interactions led to casual dates. The murders began to slow down, making you feel a little safer. With this in mind, you accepted Michael’s invitation when he invited you over. You were nervous as you waited for him to open the door. The evening breeze did little to distract you from the feeling of being watched. Michael opened the door and you sighed in relief. “You look… beautiful,” he stuttered. “Not too bad yourself,” you smiled back.

He moved aside to let you in, leading you to where he had set up. “I didn’t know you could cook.” “I’m a man of many talents.” He looked out the window, making sure the other house was watching. They looked nervous, hoping you would leave in one piece. They watched you laugh and talk. This could not have been the same boy that had terrorised so many. He was confident, suave, and personable. Worlds away from the awkward, nervous cry baby of a serial killer that they had become used to. He cleaned up well, even tidying up his wild hair. They wondered how long it would last. How long would it take for you to see the real him? They hoped you got out before it got to that state. The time flew by, and you both seemed to get closer by the second. You didn’t notice until your noses were touching, conversation halting. He seemed to be waiting for something, almost hesitant. You took the initiative and captured his lips. All of his hesitation melted away, his hand reaching around you and pulling you closer. The kiss got more heated, indicating that it would lead to something else. However, luck was not on your side. You phone ringing and interrupting you. Michael wanted to smash that phone; this was the second time it had stopped him. You apologised before picking up. Michael watched your expression change and brows knit in annoyance. You put the phone down, apologising. “I’m so sorry Michael, but I’m going to have to go, I’ve been called into work tomorrow and this is an important client, I hope you can understand.” “Of course, I’m sure you’re busy and I won’t keep you. Do you want me to drop you off?” He didn’t know why he asked that question, he didn’t have a car. “Oh thank you so much for understanding, and the offer. I drove here myself so there’s no need to worry about that,” you smiled at him. Michael helped you with your belongings, leading you out the door. You turned to thank him again, before he leaned down to give you another kiss, causing you to blush. He walked you to your car, taking in the interior. He waved you off with a smile. He knew you’d be back soon. ////

Michael shut the door behind him. He thought the night was a success. He opened the cupboard and pulled out your jacket. He hid it away, so you’d forget about it. The designer logo stood out to him. He buried his face in the fur, taking in all of it. Your scent, your warmth, everything. He had been so close to you. He wanted to watch the tapes with this in hand, for that he would have to venture next door. He wasn’t prepared to finally come face to face with his grandmother, looking down on him, cigarette in hand. “Michael fucking Langdon,” her southern drawl was harsh. He hadn’t been spoken to like that in years. He gulped as he watched her slowly walk down the stairs. “Why haven’t you grown out of that terrible habit of yours. You just have to destroy pretty things.” She stopped at the step just above him, still looking down. She gently stroked his face like she used to when he was a child, and he leaned into the touch. The peace was disturbed by a loud slap echoing through the house. Michael’s face turned to the side. He held his cheek, slowly turning to the woman with bleary eyes. “You have some nerve coming back to this house with that attitude of yours, clearly the ‘Church’ didn’t teach you any manners” Michael was trying to find his voice, to finally face the woman that he blamed for half of his problems. “And now look at you, that poor girl doesn’t even know the half of it.” She snatched the coat away from him. “Look at this Michael, this is Prada. And did you see the car she drove? What makes you think you deserve her? Look at yourself,” she gestured towards him. “Hair unkempt, Jobless, all you eat is candy and human flesh. What are you going to when she finds out the truth?” Michael hadn’t actually thought about that. He had neglected himself and his appearance for a while now. Did it really matter that much?

////

“Look, Y/N, all I’m saying is that you can do better. Look at you, you’re beautiful and well dressed and have such a good job. And him, well… he’s a little scruffy and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t even have a car,” Ms Grace did not approve of your relationship with Michael. She thought you could do better. “I see where you’re coming from but he’s charming. Although I do agree he could clean up a little better. I’ve seen him all dressed up and he looks so good. I just don’t understand why he chooses to look like… that most of the time,” the last bit was more meant for yourself. Your conversation was interrupted by Kevin, a colleague from another office. “He should take a page out of Kevin’s book,” Ms Grace pointed out. Kevin raised a brow at the conversation he had just become a part of. He too was on a lawyer salary, a well-dressed man that anyone would swoon for. “Who’s ‘he’?” “Y/Ns …. Boyfriend?” Ms Grace replied. “Nothing to concern yourself too much with Kevin, you know what Ms Grace is like,” you interjected. “I didn’t know you had a boyfriend. He must be something to reach those high standards of yours,” he pointed out. “Oh he’s something alright,” Ms Grace muttered. You huffed at the conversation. You didn’t think you were a superficial person, but your colleagues thought otherwise. //// Michael had heard enough. Sometimes he would scry into your workplace, just to check on you, to see if you thought of him as much as he did. The conversation reinforced Constance’s criticisms from the other day. He hadn’t felt this self-conscious in a while. He was not one to idle, immediately finding a hair stylist with an availability. He wanted a transformation that would floor you. With that in mind, he headed to ‘Gallants’. //// The hairstylist was truly annoying, yet he seemed to have magic in his hands. The final reveal shocked Michael also. The confidence he had at Hawthorne seemed to return. He held his head just a little higher as he walked out. He felt everyone’s eyes on him, people stopping to stare at the angelic looking man that strutted down the street. On his way to his next destination, he stopped at the sight of a certain symbol. An inverted cross. His feet had a mind of their own, leading him inside. His scar began to tingle. The congregation turned to stare at the man that had just walked in. They knew. It had to be. The high priestess getting on her knees before him. He could get used to this. //// He reached his final destination for the day. He didn’t usually kill men, but if they got in his way, he didn’t care who he killed. He waited for Kevin to come home. He was going to kill him here. He wasn’t worth the effort of taking him all the way to the murder house. Michael didn’t even give the man a chance to scream. Getting rid of him with a snap of his fingers. //// The murder house watched Michael carefully curate his image the next few months. An entire new wardrobe, his old clothes dumped in the murder house. They watched the elaborate skincare ritual every morning. Carefully peeling away masks and applying serums. How very American Psycho of him. You loved the new look. You made sure everyone in the office new you’d made the right choice. Michael loved the new attention, but he made sure you knew he only had eyes for you. He even planned on offering you a better job in Kineros’ legal team, just so he could keep you close and get you out of the sector you complained about so often. //// A strange thing happened one night. Michael took the camcorder down into the basement with him, setting the lens to record his newest victim. After he was done, he burned the footage onto a disk. What was he up to? //// You were on autopilot as you opened your door. You felt numb. Ms Grace had become another victim to ‘the Alpha’ along with one of your neighbours. You spent the entire day in police interviews, trying to make sense on the situation. As you walked into the house, you stepped on something. A thick envelope, labelled only with your name. You picked it up with shaky hands and opened it. In it was just an unlabelled disc and a sticky note saying ‘love from the Alpha’. It made your blood run cold. This had to be a joke. Some was messing with you; it could be the only explanation. You ran to your DVD player, you had to see what was on the disc, you hoped it was some shitty quality movie ripped from the internet. The video came on, starting in a dark room. The camera turned to a woman tied up, it zoomed in on her face and you immediately recognised her as Ms Grace. Your eyes widened and you felt ill, running to the bathroom to be sick. It was still playing when you came back, changing to a different video. It was dark again but it all seemed so familiar. The camera panned up and you gasped, your hands covering your face. It was a video of you, sleeping in your own home. You no longer felt safe here. You quickly took the disc out and grabbed your essentials, running to your car. As you pulled out your street, you had no idea what turn to take. Turning right would lead to the police station, you could submit the disc and ask for protection. However, they rarely did anything about stalking cases, and the disc had your finger prints all-over it. A left turn would lead to Michael. You felt safe around him and you were sure he could offer you comfort at this time. The beeping behind you made you make your decision. //// You pulled up outside Michael’s house. You rapidly knocked on the door, there was no answer. No light was on in the house. You prayed to whoever that would listen that he didn’t have any other plans for the night. As you lost hope and looked around, your eyes fell to the imposing structure next door. You remembered a conversation where he had said he was restoring the home. A light was on. With a deep breath, you ran up the steps, repeating your previous actions and hoping for a response. A shocked Michael opened the door. You immediately wrapped your arms around him, burying your face in his chest and sobbing. You didn’t notice the feral look he had going on. Hair dishevelled and blood-stained clothes. He gently put the knife down and wrapped his arms around you, cooing and shushing you. Telling you to calm down and it would all be okay. He was glad you were wearing a dark colour; you hadn’t noticed the stickiness of his hands and the stain they left. He gently moved you into the house, shutting the door. He used his magic to shut the basement door too. Your face was still buried in his arm as he walked you up the stairs. You should have paid attention to your strange surroundings. The ghosts of the house looked at you with the greatest of pity, wishing they could do something.

He sat you down on the bed, kneeling before you and taking your hands in his. “Hey, look at me. What’s going on?” he asked gently, wiping your eyes. You sniffled and calmed your breathing, trying not to freak out again as you explained the situation to him. “I… I think he’s after me,” you whispered. “Who’s ‘he?” “The Alpha, he’s after me, I know it.” Michael paused, you must have seen the DVD. He had to stop himself from laughing. “Why do you think that hmm?” his thumb stroked your cheek. “Three people I know have died and then I got this DVD in the mail,” you paused, “It… it’s a video of Ms Grace tied up and then one of me sleeping,” you began to cry again. Michael sat on the bed next to you, pulling you in for a hug, you buried your face into him again, taking in his scent and trying to calm down. “You’re the only person I feel safe around,” you mumbled. Michael smiled into your hair. He had you exactly where he wanted. ////

You decided to wash your face after you had calmed down. Wetting a towel with cold water, you placed it on your eyes in an attempt to de-puff them. The ghosts thought this was the perfect opportunity to warn you about your possible doom. Vivienne pulled open the shower curtain behind you. Revealing a bathtub full of ice and another victim placed in it. However, their plan didn’t seem to work. You didn’t even look back at the sound, having walked out the bathroom just in-time. Michael was sitting on the bad, waiting for you. He had changed into more casual clothing and was rolling a joint. “It might help you calm down,” he smiled up at you, twisting the end off. You sat back on the bed and joined him, relaxing into the headboard. The conversation was casual and mundane, something you really needed right now. Between the sound of his voice and the passing of the joint, you had no idea how much time had passed. All you knew at this moment was that you wanted to be as close to him as possible. Hands began to wander, and your lips met for a heated kiss, you ended up straddling him. You let yourself be lost in the haze, not knowing exactly when your clothes came off, just that you enjoyed the feel of his skin on yours. You lifted your hips, moving to finally having him inside you, to be as close as you could be. You waited a little, resting your forehead on his shoulder as you got used to his size and took it all in. The feeling of his hands rubbing up and down your spine was blissful. His hands finally rested on your hips, gripping them and encouraging you to finally move. You complied, taking your time. You moved away from his shoulder. He took the opportunity to leave marks all over your breasts. It just felt so good. You could feel that you wouldn’t last much longer, your movements becoming sloppier. Michael rested his hand on your throat, his face morphed into something a lot more vicious than you were used to. It must have rang some alarm bells, but you weren’t listening. His grip on your neck tightened, and his hips began to thrust up, meeting your movements. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as his grip tightened once more, causing the coil in your belly to snap. Your legs shook, walls pulsing around him as he followed not long after. He pulled you into a deep kiss by your neck, slowly moving you off him and onto the bed. You lay there catching your breath, staring into his eyes. Just for that brief moment, nothing else mattered, forgetting about the serial killer that was on the hunt somewhere. You got closer to him and got comfortable, your head resting on his chest, being lulled by his heartbeat. “I was thinking,” he started. “Hmm?” you mumbled back, enjoying the vibration of his speech. “Maybe you should take a break from work for a while and stay with me for a bit, just until things calm down,” he suggested. At that moment in time, the combined high of weed and sex made it seem like a genius idea. Surely it was the most obvious solution? “Yeah it’s a good idea,” you yawned. The exhaustion caught up to you, your heavy eyes falling shut. Michael squeezed you just a little tighter and smirked up at the residents that had surrounded you. Their looks of pity towards you were something else. Michael buried his face into your hair, turning off the lights around him. It was the most blissful sleep he had had in years.

////

You woke up sometime the next afternoon. Michael was nowhere to be seen. After using (the now empty) bathroom, you ventured through the house. It looked different. It looked complete in a way. The tarp, random cans of paint and building materials that you were sure where there last night, were gone. It was as if it had been transformed overnight. The strangest thing was how familiar the décor and interior looked. It looked like a bigger version of your own home. It felt familiar yet uncomfortably so. Quite frankly, it looked like your dream home, styled as if it was going to featured in Architectural Digest. You knew it didn’t look like this last night, nothing close to it. Then you thought back to the wardrobe upstairs, the one you had sleepily pulled your current clothing out of. It was full of your own clothing. Clothing that you didn’t bring with you. Did Michael do this while you were asleep? When did he get the time? You scoured the house for your car keys and purse. Only finding pieces of familiar décor instead. Your stomach got the better of you, heading to the kitchen and hopefully finding something to eat. The pantry was stocked full of your favourites, pulling out a box of your favourite cereal. It was at this moment you were sure that all the pieces were taken from your home. One of the cereal bowls had the same chip that yours had. The nervousness and paranoia of last night began to seep back into you, your face visibly twisted in those emotions. As you mindlessly ate your cereal, the basement door creaked open. You stopped mid chew to look. You quickly swallowed and slowly walked towards it. Telling yourself that there was nothing to fear, and that you were just going to shut it. You heard a thud as you reached the door. Maybe Michael was down there and needed some help or something. You slowly walked down the steps, being careful not to make any noise. Your hand covered your mouth to stop your scream and prevent you from vomiting from the smell. The image forever burned into your memory. There was blood everywhere. Michael had his back turned to you, you were sure he hadn’t sensed your presence yet. You slowly backed away, trying to be quiet and not alert him. You let out a shaky breath when you were back in the hallway. You didn’t care about finding your things now, you had to get out of here. The front door wouldn’t budge open, the backdoor was no different. None of the window’s downstairs would open either. You then remember one of the windows was cracked open in the room you were sleeping in. You may injure yourself, but it looked like your only way out. You pushed the window up even further, making enough room for you to jump out. You hoisted one leg over the ledge, looking out for your landing spot. You prepared yourself to move the other leg, but it wouldn’t budge. You tugged at it a few times before looking back. Those blue, rage filled eyes were staring back at you, holding your leg, and preventing you from getting out. “Get. Back. In.,” he said, through clenched teeth. You shook your head, looking away from him. You didn’t want to think about who’s blood he was covered in. “Please let me go,” you whispered, hoping he’d take mercy on you somehow. His grip just got tighter. You mustered up all your strength, kicking him off you. He let go of your leg, it gave you enough time to jump. You felt the wind rush around you as you fell. You hit the ground a lot harder than you thought. Your head ricocheted off the ground painfully. You ignored the crunch your legs made. Everything hurt so bad, the pain wouldn’t even let you scream. You knew you had calculated your fall right. The ghosts thought you did too, all watching with various shocked expressions. You tried to move and look around you and stay awake. You could only look up. Through your darkening vision, the last thing you saw was Michael leaning out the window, smiling down at you. The cat had caught the canary.

////

You groaned in pain as you opened your eyes.

The light was blinding, difficult to adjust to.

Where were you? Why were you here? How long had it been?

As you looked around, the room looked familiar, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it.

“Oh? You’re finally awake, It’s been a few days, I missed seeing your eyes” a male voice spoke from beside you.

You slowly turned your head to the voice.

The man looked familiar; you raked your brain to figure out who it was.

He placed his hand on your cheek, you hissed and flinched as he stroked scabby and bruised skin. “Look at you. If you had stayed inside, we wouldn’t be here now, would we?”

His eyes finally met yours and everything came rushing back.

A feeling of dread overtook you. You tried to shuffle away from him, but something was preventing you from moving.

You tried to figure out what it was. Looking yourself over, noticing the blanket was bulky.

You momentarily forgot about the predator in the room, pulling the blanket away and revealing your legs, both in casts.

One of the casts had been signed, ‘get well soon, Love, your Alpha’.

You wanted to sob, but you knew any sudden movements would be painful.

Michael rolled his eyes and pulled the blanket back over you, tucking you in.

“If you’re good, you’ll get your painkillers. If you’re bad…,” he leaned over you, putting his weight on your legs, “I’ll cut them off next time,” he grinned.

He got onto the other side of the bed, holding you close to him, squeezing you just a little too tight, and giving your forehead a kiss.

Not even the apocalypse could get you out of his grasp now, he’d kill you both before anything tried to take you from him. Wherever you were, that was his sanctuary. Even if it meant eternal torment in the pits of hell, it didn’t matter, as long as it was with you.

#my writing #michael langdon #michael langdon x reader #Oneshot

67 notes · View notes

bigskydreaming · 3 years

Text

And one more bit from the “Kings of the Sky” AU albeit several installments in, because I just......don’t know when or why I stumbled into an obsession with the dynamics between Dick and Jason and Cass as the eldest three Wayne siblings, but its there, its real, and its happening. I’ve stopped fighting it. I just....enjoy writing those three being dumb siblings who are dumb like so, so much.

Anyway, in this AU series, Jason doesn’t go to Ethiopia and die, but rather eventually joins Dick at Titans Tower more regularly and is Flamebird. Both are closer with Bruce here than in canon because Dick helped Bruce and Jason get through the Garzonas stuff and Jason helped kick Bruce in the direction of Dick and adoption papers right after the Brother Blood storyline. Then Cass is actually the third to join the family, by way of Babs, and she’s Batgirl and then Black Bat, but there’s a period of time when its just Dick, Jason and Cass as the Wayne kids.

(PS - this is the same series as where Jason ends up with his own age group of Titans, and accidentally falls into a love quadrangle of doom that is absolutely NOT a polycule dammit, with Tom Bronson (Tomcat), Ray Terrill (The Ray) and Todd Rice (Obsidian). Which amuses his brother and sister to no end).

Tim and Duke are both next, but sorta at the same time? Like Tim’s story takes a sharp turn when Robin II never dies and obviously is Flamebird now like Robin I is Nightwing, and Tim winds up in foster care after his parents die differently than in canon. Duke is also in foster care at this time, though a different placement, and while no Robin has died here, its been awhile since there’s been one in Gotham, and to kids who grew up with the idea of there always being a Robin, that feels weird and wrong ultimately.

So Tim and Duke both hit on the idea of being Robin like, at around the same time and totally disconnected from one another, and that leads to them both joining the Batfam around the same time, and co-sharing Robin until Damian arrives much later and they both move on to new identities. But there’s no real confusion between Robins because Duke is the daytime Robin with more yellow coloring in his costume and Tim is the nighttime Robin with more red, and people say Red or Yellow if they ever need to differentiate which Robin they’re talking about. Anyway.

************

So [Tim and Duke] run into trouble eventually and then when running from trouble they run into each other and they’re like….huh. Awkward. And then they decide well, might as well both run from trouble in the same direction, I guess. So they do.

“Did you have a plan for dealing with these guys?” Tim yelled at Duke. The other boy looked back over his shoulder briefly and gave what would probably have been a half-shrug if he didn’t awkwardly try to barrel-roll over a car two seconds later.

“Umm, sorta?”

“How sorta are we talking about? Maybe the two of us together could fill in the gaps in the plan and come up with one full plan?”

“Uh yeah, no, its not that kinda sorta. I meant sorta in the sense that I thought I had a plan but it didn’t work and that’s why these guys are after me. Sooooo…”

“Not helpful, basically.”

“Yeah. Pretty much. And hey, I don’t hear you offering up a plan! Did you even have one at all?”

“Uh….I mean I kinda didn’t think I was going to need one because I figured some kid running around in a mask making a nuisance of himself was the sorta thing that was bound to attract Batman. And so I was just pretty much running around until that happened, and then I’d make a case for how I obviously need training and Gotham needs Robin and if its not me its likely to be someone else trying eventually anyway so why not be me?”

Duke paused just long enough to squint at him. “That’s a terrible plan.”

Tim rolled his eyes. The effort didn’t pair well with his huffing and over-all exertions from running for his life and all that, but necessity demanded. “Yeah I know, that’s why I never said it was a plan! It was mostly….more…idea-ish.”

“I’m just saying, I thought I was doing this wrong, but at least I had a plan! I mean yeah, it might have ended up with me accidentally busting in on what I thought was a bunch of Riddler’s henchmen setting up some kind of clue thing, only it was actually a bunch of Intergang type guys with alien space guns or some shit all dressed up as Riddler henchmen for some reason? I dunno what they were trying to do honestly, but so yeah I might have ended up running away on foot from like twenty of them and some kind of hovercycle -”

“I’m going to cut you off there and say wherever this is going its probably not the superior vantage point I think you think you have.”

Meanwhile, Batman was not going to be coming because he’s off on a JLA mission. However, in his absence Dick and Jason are in town filling in, and they finished taking out the bad guys several blocks back and caught up to whomever was running from them, figured out the situation and are currently sitting on the edge of a rooftop watching them realize they’re totally lost and trying to figure out where to go from here. Mostly because Dick and Jason are incredibly amused listening to their back and forth and also just…this whole situation.

Dick justifies not piping up to let them know they’re safe now by saying this is good intel gathering so we can offer Bruce our assessment as to whether they’re gonna try and keep doing this whether we train them or not, and also how they handle this whole being lost situation. Not knowing they don’t have to run anymore isn’t going to hurt them and really, this is a good field exercise almost.

Jason justifies not piping up by saying this is fucking hilarious and I will hurt you if you end this any sooner than we have to, I deserve this, I had a rough week.

Which is right around the time that Cass pipes up from where she’s been lurking unnoticed behind them this whole time: “Oh no. Was it Tom? Or Ray? Or was it Todd?”

And she does it right in Jason’s ear so he kinda aborted-shrieks and almost falls off the roof except Cass is ready for that and grabs his arm to steady him.

“I hate when you do that!” Jason growls in an attempt to cover up how badly she got him and also because he hates when she does it which is why she does it a lot. Again, they don’t hate each other at all, but they do seem to act like it a lot, and neither of them is entirely sure why. They kinda just started doing it and have each been trying to get the other back ever since and ended up locked in an unending spiral of gotcha-gotchaback, except, y’know, Batfam style.

Dick occasionally picks sides just to muddy the waters. And then he randomly switches sides without warning, so neither of them ever wants to risk getting too peeved at him even when he’s helping the other, because that might push him fully over to the other side and leave them permanently outnumbered, so they’re kinda stuck, which is exactly as he likes it, lol.

“Why are you Satan,” Jason hisses dramatically as he gets up and stomps over to the other side of the roof to sulk, lest she almost knock him off again. Its not the almost falling part that bothers him, its that she’s the one that snatches him to safety each time. She’s like a freaking cat toying with a - yeah not going there, just blaming Selina. Knew them hanging out was going to be bad news for me somehow, he gripes.

Cass just shrugs and smoothly sits down cross-legged right where she is, grinning Cheshire-cat style at him from there. “Childhood trauma,” is her answer.

“Great, and now you’re stealing my comeback on top of it?! Is nothing sacred to you?”

She offers another shrug. He would like to return those for store credit please. Maybe get something useful instead. “Haven’t decided yet. Babs is still helping me explore my options. We’re going alphabetically and we’re only on the E-religions.”

“God, you’re the worst. I can’t believe you ruined sisters for me.”

“You already used that same line last week when you came out of your room still half-asleep and she was just sitting directly across from your door waiting and staring unblinking and you yelped and dropped your laptop on your toe, and then cursed so loud that B came running around the hall thinking we were being invaded,” Dick reported idly, still perched in the same position he’d been in all along and watching the boys below them. “Just in case you thought no one noticed when you recycle.”

“I noticed too,” Cass added solemnly.

“I have no siblings,” Jason intoned. He threw up his hands dramatically and then loudly jumped down to the street below with a little help from the fire escape. It drew both Duke and Tim’s attention and they startled before realizing it was Flamebird. And that he’d landed on the street and was stalking past them while barely acknowledging them. And that that was Nightwing standing on the roof now with his hands on his hips yelling after him.

“Oh, reeeeeeal subtle. You’re not having fun anymore so you gotta make sure nobody else does either. Wow, the Brat-like behavior, just jumped out of the shadows with that one!”

And that was Flamebird not even turning around and just yelling back. “I HAVE NO SIBLINGS!”

And also they were both pretty sure that was Batgirl crouched on the roof next to Nightwing now, and she was…..sticking her tongue out at Flamebird’s back? No, Batgirl very much definitely was sticking out her tongue, that wasn’t in doubt, it was more just….very unexpected to see.

What was happening right now?

********

Eventually Tim and Duke have inevitably worn down [Bruce’s] resistance to training them by insisting they’re gonna keep doing this and if its not them its gonna be someone sooner or later anyway. Because, as they put it, you guys may not know this but Gotham’s gotten used to Robins by now and it freaks people out not to see one and Robin’s as important as Batman really and there needs to be a Robin and its not just us that will think that, like look at the fact that already two of us had the exact same idea, huh? And also, we’re gonna keep doing it anyway, sooooo….there’s that.

And then Cass vouches that they’re both 100% serious about that.

And then Dick vouches that as a former determined daredevil kid that was absolutely going to keep doing the same thing no matter whether you’d helped me or not, B, I also am of the assessment that these two mean it all the way.

And not to be left out and just to have something to contribute but also grumpy because his brother and sister are picking on him and he’s eighteen going on ten, Jason throws in: “And my assessment is that they both definitely seem dumb enough to keep doing this without help anyway and they definitely need help or they definitely will die, I’d give it a month, month and a half tops.”

And then Bruce dryly thanks his children for their contributions, their keen insights in this matter have been absolutely invaluable, he has no idea how he would make a decision here without it.

“Oooh, a rare sighting of Bat-snark in the wild. Someone call Nat-Geo quick, maybe he’ll do it again,” Dick says.

Bruce sighs. Duke and Tim look like they’re trying to decide if they’re allowed to be amused or if that’s also part of some weird Bat-test that they’re probably taking without even knowing it.

So Tim and Duke move in, start training together, and then also get sent to school together and it takes a month or so of settling in before they decide whether or not they actually are happy about this. There’s a period of deciding they’re supposed to be bitter rivals who snipe at each other back and forth across the dining table at every available opportunity, but that changes the first night Dick and Jason come back from the Tower since Tim and Duke have moved in and where Cass is also home instead of at the Clocktower with Babs.

Since all three of the older Batkids, upon seeing Tim and Duke squabble at dinner, decide to obnoxiously coo about how adorable it is watching the kids play. Which pretty instantly cements Duke and Tim as realizing their best chance of surviving the sudden acquisition of three older superhero ninja foster siblings who all can be as obnoxious as they are dangerous but also as much as they are - Duke and Tim are convinced - all quite insane.

A belief further cemented the next morning, with all three of them having spent the night at the Manor as well. Treating Duke and Tim to their first Saturday morning episode of the Cass and Jason show.

In this episode, Jason emerged from his bedroom in his pajamas still but warily peeking his head out first to look both ways down the hall before deciding it was clear…..and then makes it just almost to the end of the hallway leading to the stairs, when Cass drops down from where she’d been waiting perched above the other side of the door, in such a way as to suddenly fill the doorway just in front of him, hanging upside down suspending herself just with her feet wedged above the doorway, all while keeping her hands crossed her chest, a dead-eyed expression on her face, and with her tongue hanging out like she’s some kind of vampire hanging upside down in mid-slumber.

Jason shrieked and stumbled back a foot before catching himself and shoving two fingers in a cross shape in her direction.

“Demon! DEMON! Goddammit, I abjure thee, that’s supposed to fucking do something about having a demon sister, now what the fuck does it take to banish you!?”

“Can’t be banished,” Cass informed him, still upside down. “Can be bought though.”

Jason halted. “What?”

“I’m really surprised you never figured it out,” Dick said from his room further down the hallway. He was leaning against the doorjamb, arms casually crossed.

“Why did you think she never goes after me?”

Jason swiveled back and forth between his siblings suspiciously, trying to scry both their inscrutable (and in Cass’ case, still upside down) faces for signs they were telling the truth. “You’re telling me that Little Miss Monstrous has been a pain in my ass from day one and the reason she’s never so much as eked a single boo in your direction is you’ve been bribing her all this time?”

Dick shrugged. “Its all about getting in on the ground floor.”

Jason squinted, still unconvinced. “Nuh-uh. No way. You’re just fucking with me. Like if this is for real, what have you been buying her off with?”

Dick smiled beatifically. “Cuddles and hugs.”

“NO! NO! Bullshit! I am NOT falling for this crap again, you are not gonna get me this way this time. I call BS, fuck you, nuh uh, you’re lying out your ass and your ass-face both.”

“Wait, what is this ‘this’ that I did before? What ever are you talking about?”

“You know damn well what I’m talking about.”

“Is this about the Care Bear you had when you were fifteen?”

“Shut upppppppppppppppp, I didn’t have a Care Bear then, you’re such a - “

“Oh, I dunno, I’m preeeeetty sure there’s some holiday photos from that year that would say otherwise, pretty definitively in the form of you and your Care Bear….”

“That I only had because you literally just gave it to me as a present solely so that you could claim that I had a Care Bear when I was fifteen, you douchebag!”

“Just because I gave you the Care Bear didn’t mean you had to keep the Care Bear and hold the Care Bear and love the Care Bear, Jay. You chose to do all that.”

“I only kept the damn thing because you’re an asshole who lied about it being a family heirloom so I felt like I had to or I’d be a total jerk. Is nothing sacred to you?”

“I didn’t lie! It is a treasured family heirloom! Its the first Care Bear I gave to my little brother to teach him the important and valuable lesson that Care Bears - say it with me now - “

“Finish that sentence and they will never find your body.”

“CARE!” Cass shrieked from behind him before jumping on Jason’s back and bearing him down to the floor in an undignified tangle as she splayed atop him like a starfish and he stared up at the ceiling in a kind of strangled frozen fury, like there was so much emotion he wanted to process he’d overheated and now was stuck like that until he cooled down.

That was when Dick leaned over him and solemnly added one final thought, as though it was a crucial addition of the gravest importance:: “A lot.”

Jason’s eye twitched.

Dick’s eyes went wide in response. “Uh oh. He went to the Danger Zone. Run Cass. We’ve unleashed the dogs of war!”

Cass was off and on her feet in a second, taking off down the hall like a rocket. “Not the dogs of war!” She yelled.

Dick was only seconds behind her when behind him, Jason rose like an eruption, growling wordlessly and sparks practically flashing from his suddenly flinty eyes. He charged after them like an enraged bull.

“Kenny Loggins wouldn’t want this!” Dick yelled over his shoulder as he rounded the doorway and vanished. Jason rounded it in hot pursuit.

“Poison Ivy won’t even be able to make compost from what’s left of you when I’m through!”

The yelling and running vanished into the distance. Duke and Tim finally looked at each other blankly.

“What?” Tim asked. Duke shrugged helplessly.

A door opened at the end of the hallway. Bruce stuck his head out. “Is it safe?”

Tim just stared at him.

“What?” Duke asked.

**************

LOL mostly I just want to get to the tail end of the series, when Dick and Jason go undercover as supervillains in the Society of well, Supervillains....Dick as War Shrike and Jason as Gray Jay. (A kind of bird usually known for or referenced as being thieving and unpredictable and unexpectedly dangerous despite its size. Jason never went into the Lazarus Pit here and so isn’t as huge as he is in canon, he’s on the smaller side due to his early life’s malnutrition. Living with Bruce helped him catch up enough that he’s not TINY tiny, but he’s still smaller enough that this particular mantle fits him a little better than it would his massive canon depiction).

Cass also partakes in the undercover storyline, just showing up uninvited in a persona she’s crafted for the mission and calls Black Swan. And War Shrike and Gray Jay are both so startled and obviously a little freaked by her unexpected arrival, that combined with her being ticked at her brothers for leaving her behind, RUDE, and them sufficiently cowed and guilted by her wrath, that it all adds up to the other villains as being clear evidence that she is the boss and they are her advance minions.

Which mollifies and satisfies Cass immensely, and leaves Jason grumpy that their mission was hijacked and also his sister is The Worst, and leaves Dick temporarily disgruntled because This Whole Thing Was His Idea DAMMIT but then five seconds later finding it hilarious because Dick is a chaos connoisseur and he has an appreciation for whimsy and the unexpected.

“I can’t believe you not only gate-crashed our extremely sensitive and delicate undercover operation, but you completely hijacked it as well! This is so typical,” Jason grouched.

Cass simply swept ahead of him and strode down the hallway with lethal grace. “Silence minion.”

Jason spluttered behind her and she grinned to herself. He really made it too easy sometimes.

84 notes · View notes