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wyofabdoms · 3 years

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Undercover I Do - Chapter 13

Characters: Javier Peña x female reader

Summary: While on an undercover assignment posing as a married couple, you are attacked and nearly assaulted. Upon waking, all you remember about Javier Peña is what you remembering seeing from two photographs of the two of you posing as the happily married couple. As you struggle to regain your memories, Javi struggles with his own feelings for you.

Rating: Explicit

Chapter Warnings: Implied cheating, swearing, destruction of government property, fluff, angst, mild reference and description of physical & sexual assault.

Word Count: 5048

Notes: The aftermath of you finding the file in Javi's office.

We've reached the end. I didn't expect this story to end this way; I really expected it to have a lot more smut...but! it got the ending it told me it wanted!

Let me know if you find any crazy mistakes. Feedback and comments greatly appreciated.

Be well!

Read on Ao3

Gif not mine, created by bestintheparsec

You had always hated it when people said stupid shit like “all the pieces just fell into place.” Pieces don’t FALL into place. Pieces of pie don’t fall, they’re served. Puzzle pieces don’t fall, they’re carefully assessed and placed into a precise spot just for that specific piece. That saying had never made any sense to you and had always made you crazy.

But now suddenly, every inch that had been hidden in the dark from you was illuminated, highlighted. Everything seemed all at once so bright and overwhelming; one moment you had no recollection of anything written about in the report in your hands. The next moment, CLICK. The light had been turned on and everything was there again.

Everything made more sense now. Why everyone had seemed so on edge whenever they had spoken with you the last few weeks, everyone seeming to measure their words carefully. Why you hadn’t been able to jog any memories loose at all about your nuptials and marriage (or in fact any relationship at all) with Javier. Why you had felt so off-balance in your own apartment.

Why Javier had refused to sleep with you.

None of it was real. You felt the blood drain from your face as you remembered the parts that came next in Javi’s report before you read them, the memories coming faster than the words on the page, now.

The pieces falling into place.

The icy spear of fear that had sliced your chest when the first sicario had come up behind the two of you the night you’d been discovered and pistol whipped Javi, knocking him to the floor. The punches and scratches and lewd, terrible threats Ortiz’s cronies had rained down on you in the hours that you were separated from him. How you had never felt more relieved than when you’d been thrown into a room with your bloodied and bruised partner, saying his name over and over, so grateful that he wasn’t dead that you could barely draw breath. You had laid on the far side of the bedroom from him, tugging against your restraints, listening in the dark as he had murmured things to you and you had whispered back: plans of escape or to fight back and then, eventually, as it became clear that neither option was very likely, comforting words.

Your brain is moving faster now and more and more memories burn bright in front of you, each one shoving and fighting to be seen.

Ortiz had arrived then. Your brain flashed with the sour image of him leering over you, his meaty hands groping and fisting handfuls of your body, the sickly stench of his overpriced cologne poisoning your nostrils, making you gag. You felt his evil hand between your legs, searching, digging...but before he’d found purchase the noises had started. You remembered clearly now. You had blocked it out, the memory of that despicable man forcing himself on you.

At just that moment, you had heard the door open behind you. You’d looked up, trying to hold back the wave of memories that was suddenly crashing around you. You saw your partner standing in the doorway of his demolished office and were sure you’d said something to him. But the memory of Ortiz and what he had tried to do to you had sent your body shaking uncontrollably and you felt yourself crumpling inwards as more memories shoved their way through.

You remembered the blinding flash of light behind your eyes and then you remembered the heavy weight of your body being cradled in someone’s steady arms and you remembered hearing Javier’s voice coming from what seemed like a great distance. He’d been begging you for something. When you had managed to get your eyes open you’d seen him next to you in the ambulance. Your partner. You’d felt him squeeze your hand and assure you that he was there. He was your partner. He would always be there for you.

Just like now. He flew to your side, ripping his jacket off and wrapping it around you as you dissolved into a shivering puddle in the middle of his office. You were also distantly aware of Dixon’s voice shouting for someone to call your doctor, her commanding voice booming as she asked what the hell had happened. You heard the familiar voices of Van Ness and Fiestl murmuring, but Javier’s attention was on you. You heard him murmuring to you softly, carefully taking the file from your hands and telling you to breathe, that he was here, that it was going to be ok.

You had every reason in the world to not believe a word he said, to hate him right now. But all you could do was close your eyes as the tremors overtook you, all you could do was lean into him….

All you could do was trust him.

Hours later, Javi sat on the edge of his seat in Dixon’s office. Also in the room was your partner’s doctor, the psychologist she had been seeing the last few weeks, and a representative from the Ambassador’s office. Javier’s nerves were frayed, his muscles tensed, ready to make a move in an instant. Dixon had been interviewing her for close to two solid hours.

He had only been half aware of the line of questioning his boss had been asking you; his focus had been entirely on his partner from the moment he’d found her reading the case file in his office. He had not left her side since she’d looked up at him and said his name. Dixon had arrived on scene moments later and had immediately sprung into action, calling for a full immediate medical inspection. Physically, she was fine. But as the doctor and then the psychologist and now Dixon had asked more questions, it was clear that mentally she appeared to be fully recovered as well, albeit slightly shaken by the abrupt and jarring reappearance of her missing memories.

While Dixon continued to assess her agent’s recollection about recent events, Javi kept his gaze leveled on his partner’s profile. He refused to look away from her. If she started to wobble he wanted to be able to catch her. If she started to shake again, he wanted to be able to step forward and cover her shoulders with his jacket. But his brave partner...his strong, smart, beautiful, brave partner...had moved through the questions with her usual detached grace and stoicism. She had not once looked at him since the moment she’d said his name in his office.

He had shared space with his partner for long enough to be familiar with her body language when she was pissed.

And right now, she was more pissed than he had maybe ever seen her.

He knew she was pissed at him. That was fair. He could also detect a fair amount of anger directed toward their boss even after Dixon had explained why they had made the decisions they had in recent days. The doctor had thrown in his own two cents and as they continued to talk, he felt some of her anger temper towards them. It had flared again when Dixon had explained that they had begun paperwork to send her home; Javi’s heart had started pounding and his hand had grasped the arm of his chair in a death grip. But both his worry and your anger lifted when it became clear that, with the full recovery of her memory, she would be free to continue working as an agent in Columbia, after a full physical and mental assessment had been made and signed off on.

Though her anger had waned towards Dixon, he knew it was a bad sign that his partner was refusing to look at him. When speaking of events in which he was involved, she only referred to him as “Agent Peña” and she had never directed a question at him, instead asking through Dixon for clarification on details: the pretending, the make believe married life, the intricacies of the scheme they had concocted to keep her in her fictitious world of memories. She had been very careful to not ask too many revealing questions...Javi recognized her restraint in what she revealed in her inquiries. He knew what she was attempting to deduce: how far had Dixon instructed him to take the “acting like you're married until her memory comes back”? Her response to anything he said was chilly, to put it lightly and Dixon soon picked up on the cold front, too.

“All right,” the older woman said, leaning forward on her desk and letting out a weary sigh. “I think it’s safe to say,” she gestured toward the Ambassador’s representative, “that no one is going to be sent home today.” The representative nodded in agreement. Dixon rose along with the young man in a suit and directed him and the doctors towards the door. “I’d like to speak to my agent alone if we all feel comfortable with moving forward?” Javi kept his eyes on his partner’s face, her own eyes intentionally avoiding him, instead drilling holes into the American flag hanging behind Dixon’s desk. He willed her to look at him, silently screamed for her to look at him. If she would just look at him, if he could just catch her eyes, just for a moment, he would know. He could see her. She’d be able to see him. She’d be able to SEE how he felt about all of this. He just needed her to LOOK at him.

“Agent Peña…” His silent pleas were interrupted by Dixon, standing next to the open door of her office, holding it wide and clearly waiting for him to get up and leave. He swallowed hard, and started to open his mouth to protest. He wasn’t sure what he was going to say but he couldn’t leave her. He was her partner. What if she needed him?

“Agent Dixon?” His partner’s voice was heavy in the sudden silence of the office. It was edged in steel, cold like ice and dripping with anger. “Perhaps you could see to it that Agent Peña gets his shit out of my apartment before I get home…” Eyes still on the wall in front of her, she let the words land in the space between them. Addressed to Dixon, they served as a slap across his face and he felt as though he’d been shoved in the gut, all of the air leaving his lungs at once.

“Ah. Yes, well….Agent Peña?” Without a word, Javi stood and stalked out of the office, slamming the door behind him.

“You’ve been right about him this whole time,” you say to Dixon after the woman settles back behind her desk. “He’s only ever been after one thing. I should have listened to you. He’s like every other man in the world: only thinks with their dick.”

Dixon steeples her fingers under her chin and studies you for a moment, concern lacing her forehead.

“Tell me more.”

You’re taken aback by this response. Dixon has always been the first to serve up cautionary tales of fraternization with colleagues, has always been able to sense when your restraint against your partner was failing and give you a pep talk to reinforce your will to withstand his flirtations. This was an unusually softer response.

“He just…” You stop, not quite sure what you want to say. You take a deep breath and look at your boss. “We can’t be partners after this.” Dixon starts at your words, sitting up straight.

“That’s…” The older woman studies you for a moment before asking carefully, “Why not?”

You scoff in disbelief.

“How can you expect me to work with him now? To ever trust him again?” When Dixon says nothing, you push on. “He lied to me! He lied SO WELL...I never would have thought he was that good of a liar.” Dixon still doesn’t speak and you rise from your chair and start to pace. “He had me feeling so sure. Sooooo…..so, certain. He worked me REALLY good, Dixon, I gotta tell ya. ‘Sure, I’ll pretend she’s my wife! Maybe THEN I can get in her pants!’ He didn’t even have to work at it! Just let me keep thinking we were married and that we were SUPPOSED to….” you stop yourself from growling out the word “fuck” in front of your boss. You continue, your voice softer now, disbelieving. “He was SUCH a good liar, Dixon. He had me believe-”

“What? That you were married?” The older woman cut you off. “You can’t put that all on him. He was ordered to do that.” You were confused by her sudden defense of him and you stopped your pacing to stare at her. The older woman sat back in her chair and appraised you for a moment before continuing. “Peña debriefed with me every day. Shared probably more than he wanted to about what was happening. I’ll admit, yes, I was initially a little worried about the arrangement. But based on everything he told me, I never thought…” a flash of concern crossed her eyes and she looked at you hard. “I only ever got his side of the story, of course. So, let me just make sure we’re clear, that I’m understanding you correctly: Are you telling me that Peña took advantage of you in this situation?” She waited.

You sat back down heavily in your chair, considering what she was asking you, thinking back over every interaction you had had with Javi since you’d come home from the hospital. Your first day back when he’d found you sobbing in your closet and gently tucked you in bed to rest. The awkward run in after your shower, when he had intentionally turned away from you. The walks around the neighborhood everyday, through the markets, the mundane routines of cooking a meal or watching tv together, reading reports or the paper. His reliable presence sleeping on your couch every night until that thunderstorm when you had been struck by nightmares (now you knew they were memories) and how he had held you so tightly and securely as you’d cried, then how he’d held you in his arms every night following as you drifted off to sleep. You were distantly aware that Dixon was still talking and you tuned back in.

“...because if that’s the case I will ruin him. He will never work again, not if I have anything to say about it. If he lied to me about the situation…”

“No.” You stop her rant, holding up a hand. “It...it wasn’t like that, Dixon. He didn’t. He didn’t take advantage of me. That’s not what I’m saying. It’s just... It wasn’t…."

Wasn’t...what?

It wasn’t real?

Was that why you were so upset? Yes, the sudden return of your memories of a traumatic event had shaken you, but why were you so upset with Javier Peña? He had done what he’d been ordered to do: pretend to be your husband.

You thought back to those most charged and intimate moments between the two of you. From the get-go after your hospital release, he’d been careful not to touch you until you had made it clear it was ok. He hadn’t said a word when he’d seen you in your towel. And, now that you were reflecting on it, all of the intimate moments had been initiated by you. The shower, the early mornings lying next to him in bed, the heavy making out on the couch.

Your mind suddenly reeled to the conversations you had had with him: about your wedding, when you’d asked about wanting kids, the book of poetry you’d found with the pictures in his office. The drunken argument you’d had with him the night before.

“I promise you: It’s all gonna make sense when things are back to how they were….I haven’t lied to you once this whole time. Not once...please, please know I’m doing this because...because I love you.”

Is that why you felt like you could cry at the thought of you facing your partner ever again? Because a small cracked part inside of you had felt complete at the idea of being married to Javier Peña? And now, that had ended up not being true. As your anger and fear from the initial shock of your recovered memories fell away, you were now just left with an aching sadness that something that had felt so real and so right… had actually ended up being nothing at all.

It had felt so real. So true. You had believed him. About all of it.

Javier stared at the ceiling of his apartment, watching the shadows crawl inch by inch towards morning. He had been laying here on his couch for hours, trying to decide if he should give up on sleep and go into work or if he should march downstairs and bang on her door and demand that she talk to him.

He heaved another heavy sigh and threw his arm across his eyes, begging whatever higher power might be listening to put him out of his misery and let him sleep away this nightmare situation for just a little while.

He thought the soft knocking on his door was his imagination at first. Then he heard it again and he bolted upright. His stomach clenched when he saw her through the peephole and he threw the door open, forgetting about his disheveled state of appearance until she swept an appraising eye up and down: shirtless, barefoot, jeans wrinkled and baggy, belt unbuckled hair sticking up in every direction and eyes red-rimmed from smoke and sleeplessness.

“Hey,” He croaked, his voice betraying the relaxed demeanor he hoped to convey. He was so surprised that she was standing in front of him that he forgot to invite her in, and after several moments of saying nothing, she breezed past him through the partially opened door, forcing him to step backwards out of her way and nearly falling over a box of his things that he’d dropped inside the door after hauling it back upstairs.

She hovered in his hallway for a moment or two, staring into the shadows of his apartment, then turned to face him. She held up a wadded ball of something: one of his shirts. The pink one that she’d always given him so much grief about but that he’d found her clutching in the closet that first day back from the hospital. She tossed the shirt into one of the overfilled boxes behind him and then crossed her arms over her chest. The hallway was dark and, like the rest of his apartment, he couldn’t see her face clearly; he moved to turn on a light but her voice stopped him before he made it to the light switch.

“Was any of it real?”

He didn’t ask her to clarify or ask what she meant. He knew what she meant and to pretend otherwise would have only insulted her and made her angrier with him.

“Yes.” It was all he could trust himself to say.

“Which parts?”

She had him. This was the chance he had been afraid he would never get this morning, when he’d been terrified of losing her. She was giving him this moment, this chance to tell her the truth. To tell her how he felt.

But he was a coward. He felt those cowardly claws reach up from inside of him and pull his resolve and courage back down beneath the darkness of himself, of his self-loathing and the hatred he had for who he had become. His gaze flicked away from her, he put a hand on his hip and ran his other through his hair nonchalantly and he shrugged.

“I dunno, it was just…” She took an aggressive step forward into his personal space, causing him to straighten and jolt at her sudden closeness.

“Which parts?” She asked again, more forcefully this time. Her eyes glittered in the shadows and he could see them searching his face, and he found it was easier to look at her here, in the half darkness. He felt a small shred of courage still burning deep within himself and he dove towards it.

“I...I didn’t lie to you. I never told you a lie. Not once. I made sure….I made sure I didn’t ever actually speak a lie to you.” He saw her roll her eyes and he pressed forward while he still had the will to speak. “I know, I know. Omission and all of that. I know. And you’re right. But I didn’t lie to you. And I’m sorry for…” he took a deep breath. He knew this part was important. He needed to get it right. “I’m sorry about the way I...made you feel. About...ya know,” he waved his hand in the space between the two of them. “I didn’t mean for you to feel like I didn’t want to be with you. I know that hurt you. That’s not…” He swallowed hard and took a deep breath. “I didn’t want you to hate me when this was all over. I…” He felt his stomach turn watery. “I wanted to…” He looked at her then, his eyes burning into hers for a moment. “I wanted to.” He said again, making sure she knew what he meant. “But I knew you’d never forgive when you got your memory back if I let that happen. And, I’m sorry...this morning...I know it was too close...I just thought…”

When she pressed her warm lips to his, he almost fell backwards over the boxes again, but he was in an instant grateful that she had stopped any further words from stammering out of his mouth. He wrapped his arms around her in part to steady himself but also to pull her the final small distance into him. When she pulled her lips away, he didn’t let go of her and she didn’t make an attempt to move away from the warm embrace of his arms.

“You told me there wasn’t anyone else.” Her warm eyes looked up at him, her lips hovering mere centimeters from his.

“There isn’t.”

“I saw you this morning...with her.” Javi let his forehead fall against hers and he sighed.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean...I didn’t want for that to happen. I was...I don’t want to sound like a pervert or anything but...I was still thinking about you when she showed up and…” He stopped talking, knowing there was absolutely nothing he could say to excuse himself. “I’m sorry.” He repeated it more softly this time, leaving an opening at the end of the two little words; allowing room for her to take control of what happened next.

They stood like that for several long moments in the dark, her hands linked around his neck, his arms firmly snaked around her waist, palms flat on her back, foreheads resting together, sharing one another’s breath. Then, ever so softly and so timidly he almost didn’t recognize it as her voice, could barely hear her:

“Did you mean it?”

Again he knew better than to act like he didn’t know what she was talking about. He nodded his head against her, holding his breath. She pulled back to look him in directly in the eyes, asking him more loudly this time, seeking the words.

“Did you?”

He had to say it. If he didn’t he would lose her forever, he knew it for certain. She would leave his apartment and never look back.

“Yes.” He had never found a single word so difficult to say. He saw a flash of frustration in her eyes.

“Javi…”

“I love you.”

There.

There it was.

The truth. That was real.

He panicked in the moments that came after, feeling every instinct inside of him screaming to run away. But her gaze and her soft breath on his face and the way her hands softly danced through the short hairs on the back of his neck kept him rooted in place.

Her lips lifted in a small smile.

“Yeah?” she breathed. He couldn’t help but return a small smile.

“Yeah.”

He wasn’t sure if she pulled him to her or if she leaned into him, but her lips were on his again, this time her tongue seeking entrance which he gladly and desperately granted. He pulled her tighter against him, letting a soft moan escape from deep inside him as their tongues tasted each other hungrily. He had never thought something could feel as good as the sensation of her fingers in his hair, tugging gently.

He took his cue from her and when her lips left his and began to travel along his jaw, around his ear, down his neck, he began to let his hands roam her around her hips, kneading handfuls of her backside in his grip. She pressed her full weight into him as he grasped her and the backs of his legs knocked into the boxes again on the floor behind him; he stumbled and they both nearly went crashing to the floor. Instead they did a sharp half-lean, half-fall into the hallway wall, both of them laughing like teenagers but still refusing to break their kiss. Eventually, Javi pulled away with great effort and steadied them both before sliding his hands along the backs of her thighs and patting, signaling her to hop and wrap her arms around his waist, which she happily did. He was surprised to feel a broad smile plastered over his face as he began to walk her towards his front door, peppering kisses along her neck and nibbling her ear.

“Wait!” She pulled away from his lips, looking at him quizzically at the sound of the door opening behind her. “Where the hell are we going?” He grinned up at her sweetly.

“Your apartment. Your bed is way fucking better than mine.” She threw her head back and laughed and he felt his own rumbling leave his own chest and bubble out of his mouth as he watched her face transform with delight amidst the moonlight and soft shadows. God she was so beautiful. She leaned down and kissed him again, fiercely.

He had to stop for a moment, leaning against the wall, the sheer force of her passion bleeding through her kiss into his soul and causing him to lose control of his very sense of self. He felt for a moment like he was floating and was unsure he would be able to support both of them. Then he felt her hands tangle in his hair again and it grounded him, brought his thoughts swimming back through the swirling haze of desire he felt for her. He dropped her to her feet, abruptly and she began to protest, but then squealed with surprise and delight when he immediately leaned into her and chucked her over one shoulder, both of them laughing as he tore down the stairs to her apartment.

Much later, after they had explored and tasted and taken one another several times over, Javi lay tangled in the sweaty bed sheets, perfectly content to live out the remainder of his life with his head nestled comfortable on her soft belly, his eyes drooping and sleepy from sex and utter contentment.

He listened to the sound of her steady breathing and revelled in the gentle rise and fall of his own head as air filled her body and then left it again gently, raising his head slowly and releasing it back down with each breath she took. It reminded him of when he was a boy, going fishing with his dad on the lake in the cold early mornings when the waters were just waking up; the waves lapping the side of the boat and creating a steady up...down...up...down... The memory was peaceful and relaxing, just as this moment with her was now. He would throw himself into the ocean that was her for the rest of his life if she would have him, he thought.

He felt her hand move across her stomach and touch the top of his head. He glanced up at her and saw her gazing back at him with her own set of sleepy eyes. He stared at her for a long while, wanted to say something, wanted to say just the right thing....the perfect thing. The romantic thing.

But then he didn’t have to.

She carefully weaved her fingers through his hair, gave him a small smile, released a soft contented sigh, and closed her eyes, drifting off to sleep, smile still dancing across her lips. He smiled, too and turned his face to press a soft kiss into her middle, just between her breasts, above where he could feel her heart beating steadily. Then he returned his head to his original spot and allowed himself to be lulled to sleep by the rhythm and motion of her breath.

Before he slipped down into the soft haze of sleep, his gaze fell upon the delicate white petals edged in pink of plumeria.

They were standing in a vase of water on the table next to the bed. She had put them there at some point after he had brought them to her as a peace offering...was that only the night before? He had felt like he had lived two lifetimes with her these last 24 hours. When they had reached her apartment, time had slowed as they had discovered one another; each time he had spilled himself inside of her or she had cried his name as she came apart around him he had whispered to her once more:

“I love you.”

He had never felt anything like it before, being with her, saying those words. It was passionate and sexy and powerful.

It was real.

He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, taking in the scent of her, the scent of them, mingled with the soft scent of the flowers that stood watch over them as they slept.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12

#javier peña x reader #javier peña x female reader #narcos #narcos fanfic #javi #undercover marriage #undercover married trope #pedro pascal fanfiction

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youngerdrgrey · 3 years

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I know you (even if you don't want me to) // a Batwoman fic, chapter 4

about: After finding out Batwoman’s identity, Sophie tries to trap Ryan with her newfound knowledge. If she’s going to be on the outside, she might as well have some fun – and maybe fall in love along the way. #Wildmoore

CHAPTER FOUR SUMMARY: Ryan’s on a mission to stop Sophie’s crush on Batwoman, but she is very unprepared for what a rejected Sophie is about to do. + read on ao3

previously: read chapter one, chapter two + chapter three

Unknown to SM (21:37) Hostage situation at the Krell Warehouse. Could use an assist. No Crows.

SM to Unknown (21:42) ETA 20m

Sophie crouches low at the rendezvous point. A few rusted shipping containers form a makeshift wall on the edge of the warehouse property. Ryan’s fully suited up with her favorite batons ready for the action. She turns them in her hands to try and get rid of her nervous energy.

Sophie nods her way. “Surprised you called for help.”

“Yeah, well….” Technically, Ryan hasn’t called for help. She needs to put space between Sophie and Batwoman, and doing this over text would be even more uncomfortable than doing it in person.

“What do we got?”

“Six people inside — mostly teens who thought cruising an old Wonderland haunt would be a fun way to spend their Friday night.” Ryan points to the second level of the building where a row of boarded up windows give them their best entry point. “One got out a distress call, but False Face is all over the lower level and all the reasonable exits.”

Sophie mulls that over. “Do they know they’ve got company?”

“They found one kid who split off solo. The others are hiding, waiting for us to get them out.” Ryan stands back up.

“How’d you hear about this before us?” Sophie asks.

In a word, Parker. The inherited back-up / hacker teen is a senior now, and she’d reached out to Mary for an assist. Mary caught Ryan up to speed, but there’s not really a quick way to clue Sophie in.

“A little doggy told me.”

Sophie side-eyes Ryan. “I didn’t know riddles were your thing.”

Ryan gets her baton ready. “Saving people’s my thing. Now, I’m going to break through the boards. Draw their attention to me. After that, you find the kids and get them out of here.”

“Aye, aye Captain.” Sophie salutes her.

Ryan hesitates. She could bring Sophie up with her. Get them both into the building the same way. “You want to take the shortcut with me?”

A slow smile curls onto Sophie’s lips. “Yeah?”

Ryan pulls Sophie to her with her left hand. “Hold onto me. Tight.”

Sophie doesn’t need to be told twice. She wraps her arms around Ryan from the left side. Ryan secures her arm around Sophie’s waist, then clicks the button on the baton, launching the zip wire and effectively sending them into the air.

Sophie clings to her tighter. She gives a little gasp that Ryan’s sure will live in her mind rent free. Ryan shifts her weight to push boots first into the wood boards. She kicks through, and the splintering will definitely be enough to get the False Face members’ attention.

She lands firm, and Sophie takes a moment to readjust. Ryan knows she shouldn’t, but she glances up at Sophie. There’s a breathless awe in her that Ryan can’t look away from. Sophie genuinely laughs.

“That was awesome!”

Ryan smiles back despite herself. “Go find the kids. Thank me later.”

Ryan takes out three different False Face goons. The two remaining ones chase her through the building and out the front doors. It’s not the most effective strategy, but she catches sight of Sophie leading the kids out from the corner of her eye. Parker has the audacity to wave at Ryan, like they’re friends. The girl might’ve been Kate’s chosen teenager, but Ryan is not taking in any strays.

She focuses back on her two shadows. “Aren’t you guys sick of getting your asses kicked at this point?” She assumes her fighting stance while they split masked looks and probably choose who is charging at her first. “I knocked out three of your buddies back there. I broke into your boss's hideout. Gotham is mine.”

A car starts in the distance. The guy in the Seal Mask cheats a glance towards the shipping containers. Ryan takes the opportunity to launch a Batarang at his shoulder. It slices through his jacket like butter. The Monkey Mask runs at her.

She blocks three punches and a kick before getting a roundhouse one of her own straight to his side. Monkey Mask crumbles with the kick. Seal Mask storms right at her, but thankfully, Sophie shocks him with a taser from behind. As he writhes his way to the ground, Ryan chops Monkey Mask in the side of the head to knock him out too.

Sophie pockets her taser. She wipes her hands after. “Kids are gone. They say thank you.”

“Did you tell them this was a one time thing?” Ryan asks.

Sophie nods. “I promised I’d haul them in myself next time.”

Of course she did. Because that’s who Sophie is. How many times has she said those same words to Ryan? Her solution will always be to lock people up and maintain the status Crow. Ryan cannot be a part of that.

She bites the bullet and announces, “There won’t be a next time. Not for us.”

Sophie’s smile drops. “I’m sorry, what? If it’s the Crow thing again, it was a joke—”

“No,” it wasn’t a joke, but it’s now or never to put an end to this. “It’s the Kate thing.”

The mention of Kate works exactly the way Ryan thought it would. A wall builds around Sophie in an instant. Her voice drops to a warning.

“Watch yourself, Batwoman.”

She has to watch out for Gotham. Keep them safe by keeping Sophie out of the Batcave and back with her Crows where she belongs.

“You said it yourself: she was the love of your life. Isn't it a little weird that you’re asking me out for drinks?”

Sophie’s nostrils flare. She grinds out, “It’s a drink. Not a marriage proposal.”

“You’ve already done that part, right?”

Okay, Ryan may have gone too far with that one. But the point is to drive Sophie away. If Sophie thinks Batwoman is a bitch, then Ryan’s in the clear. No more crush, no more problems.

But Sophie spins Ryan around with a vice-like grip on her wrist. She glares down at Ryan, and Ryan’s thankful once again for how the cowl and the wig cast her eyes in shadow.

“And what have you done, besides try to push away the one person who’s repeatedly saved your life? I’m not your enemy, and I’m not going to stand here while you try to use my dead ex against me.”

Sophie’s whole body shakes. Her rage is clear and channeled straight at Ryan. She practically growls, “You want to work alone so badly? Be my guest.” Then storms off into the night.

After a beat, the crackle in the Comms gives way to Luke.

He sighs heavily into his microphone. “Not cool, Ryan.”

Ryan clears her throat. Tries to sound a bit less affected. “Hey, mission accomplished.”

Screw Ryan. Sophie would normally go for more eloquence, but she’s a little sidetracked. She squares up her shot in the minimalist Crows shooting range. The small scale facility has a row of five shooting stations opposite the targets. On a Friday night, the other Crows are either working or relaxing, so the space is all hers. And Mary’s, who presses a pair of earmuffs tighter onto her ears and squeaks as Sophie takes another shot.

Mary practically screams, “Are you sure that this is how you want to spend Girls’ Night?”

Girls’ Night meaning yet another last minute outing to distract Sophie from how shitty Ryan is acting. At least the last time, Sophie could have a bit of fun. This time, her blood’s boiling, and she grinds her teeth so hard that she might upset a filling.

“Any better ideas?”

Mary gives an incredulous look to Sophie. “There are so many clubs in Gotham. You can take shots instead of shooting them. And… didn’t you used to go shooting with Kate?”

Sophie sets her gun down. “It’s great stress relief.”

“Yeah, so’s dancing. And it’s a lot more fun.” Mary pushes her ear muffs down onto her neck. “I don’t need to know what’s got you so…” She waves a hand at Sophie’s generally tense demeanor. “But you can find plenty of ladies who would love to help you forget about it.”

And forget about Ryan slut-shaming her for even looking like she was moving on. “Look, I can live my life however I want. It’s not disrespecting anyone to do that.”

“I wholeheartedly agree.” Mary turns knowing eyes up at Sophie. “I also feel like there’s someone else that you want to be saying that to, and it’s not me. So, you work on your speech, and I will cement our spot on the guest list, okay?”

Mary squeezes Sophie’s arm and then excuses herself from the room. She stays right outside, where the pop of Sophie’s next shot is on the other side of the glass. Her phone’s ringing before she really thinks about it.

Ryan groans into the phone upon answering. Then she must hear the muffled shots in the background. “Are you getting shot at?”

“Thankfully, no. Sophie’s got me at the Crows shooting range because someone pissed her off tonight.” Mary rolls her head in a circle and wills some of the tension out of her body. “An hour ago, you two were fine, so want to clue me in how you royally screwed things up?”

Ryan scoffs, and her voice pitches higher in indignation. “She’ll be fine. This is Crowphie we’re talking about.”

Mary watches as Sophie fires off three rounds before her arms drop. Sophie lays the gun down and plants her hands on the wood of the stall in front of her. Her shoulders shake with what may actually be a sob.

“She’s not invincible, Ryan. And you can’t hurt her just to push her away. It’s not fair.”

“When has any of this been fair, Mary?” There’s a thud on the other end, like Ryan’s slamming their fridge. Is she home right now? “I’m doing the best I can.”

“Well, do better. I’m taking her out to hopefully dance through some of this intensity. Maybe tomorrow you can try to fix this. Okay?”

A bottle cap pops on Ryan’s side. She’s definitely got a beer from the fridge. This won’t end well for any of them, will it? Ryan takes a swig that’s loud enough for Mary to hear through the phone.

“Which club?”

Mary sighs.

Leave it to Mary to pick the one club playing decent music tonight. Ryan half expected Mary to have picked Curse, but Sophie’s not really an EDM kind of girl. Before tonight, Ryan would’ve assumed Sophie’s never been to a club at all. She’s the tight lipped, straight backed type. The type to think of a few drinks at a bar as a wild night.

Tonight, though, Sophie’s hotter than ever. In a tight dress that stops above the knee and heels that make her tower over half the patrons, Sophie’s got the attention of at least half the club. Ryan watches from beside Mary at their table. Sophie had taken one look at Ryan, downed her drink, and gone onto the dance floor.

“She’s not even a good dancer,” Ryan mumbles. Sophie’s a bit too stiff to really be good out there. She does have a natural rhythm though. Everyone around her bends to match it. One particular person with a mullet slips up behind Sophie. Their hand finds Sophie’s hip, and Sophie only misses a beat before dancing again.

Mary twirls the ice around in her drink. “She’s fine.”

She’s vengeful. Sophie gets told one time that she’s moving on too fast, and now she’s grinding with a stranger at a club. If anything, she’s proving Ryan’s point.

Mullet takes Sophie’s hand in their free one and spins Sophie around to face them. The move gets a laugh out of Sophie. The laugh gets a kiss from Mullet. Ryan groans.

She leans across the table to Mary. “I thought this was Girls’ Night.”

Mary shrugs. “Mullet's a girl. Maybe. I'm trying not to assume anyone's gender based on expression. Look, you rejected her, so she’s going to rebound.”

Ryan pulls a disgusted face. It’s not about Mullet in particular. Just, if Sophie’s going to rebound off of Batwoman, couldn’t she do it with somebody interesting? Somebody who will do more than kiss along her neck in a sweaty club surrounded by strangers. Now both of Mullet’s hands are on Sophie’s hips, and Sophie’s head is tilted back like she’s actually enjoying this. Like Mullet has found just the right spot and —

Ryan turns to put her back to the dance floor. “I’m not watching this.”

“You don’t have to. You also… didn’t have to come?” Mary’s voice lilts up at the end. Her face is that mix of carefully constructed curiosity that usually means Mary’s leading Ryan into a trap. “I get that you wanted to see how bad she’s taking it, but I could have just texted you. Imani would’ve loved an impromptu date night.”

Things with Imani aren’t as great as they were before. Imani’s still amazing, but she gets quieter and stares at Ryan like she’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. The last time Ryan bailed for Bat business, Imani looked absolutely betrayed.

Ryan could keep it to herself, but she blurts out, “Imani doesn’t trust me. I have to bail on half of our dates because of work and after meeting Sophie—”

“Why would she be jealous of Sophie?”

Ryan scratches at the back of her neck. “We may have gotten caught up in an argument in front of Imani.”

Mary hums. “And the two of you forgot anyone else even existed.” She says it like this is something that they do.

“I didn’t forget.” Sophie infuriates Ryan. She’s so sure that she’s right about every little thing, and if Ryan doesn’t correct her, then who will?

“But you didn’t care. Forgive me if I’m wrong, but shouldn’t the woman that you’re sleeping with have your full attention? Not your ‘coworker.’”

Ryan gives her a tight smile. “You’re forgiven.”

Mary turns her eyes back to the crowd. Ryan glances back, and of course, Sophie’s still with Mullet. But as Mullet kisses Sophie’s neck again, Sophie stares across the dance floor straight at Ryan.

Mary claps her hands together. “Alright. You two might want to talk about whatever this is. Preferably before I become an unwilling third and Imani ends up heartbroken.”

Ryan’s halfway out of her chair before she remembers to deny it. “There’s nothing to talk about.” Mary’s sarcastic mhm follows Ryan as she cuts her way through the crowd towards Sophie.

The heat of the bodies engulfs her. Somebody familiar tugs at Ryan, but she shirks out of the touch without so much as a look. Her eyes catch Sophie’s again, and she holds the stare as she slips around the last few people between them.

Mullet’s behind Sophie again. They possessively wrap an arm around Sophie’s stomach. “We’re good,” Mullet says.

Ryan ignores them to talk to Sophie. “Mary’s worried about you.”

Sophie’s dismissive. “Then Mary can come talk to me herself.” She turns her nose up at Ryan, and honestly, it’s enough to make Ryan see red.

Ryan’s here because Mary said Sophie was hurting. Ryan could be anywhere else. She could be at home, drinking a beer, in her bed. She could be patrolling the city. She could be with Imani, but she’s here because Mary had the misguided idea that Sophie was actually sad about being rejected. Mary was wrong.

Ryan huffs. “Whatever.” She starts walking back through the crowd.

Sophie calls out, “Hey, don’t walk away from me!”

Ryan glances over her shoulder to see Sophie push Mullet away. Sophie storms after Ryan, cutting through couples and dancers to get to her. Ryan speeds up. She makes a sharp turn in the crowd. No need to head back towards Mary and her leading comments.

The bathrooms are packed, as always, but there’s an exit door a bit further down the hall that’s normally unlocked. Ryan wiggles along the hall to get there and slips out into the night air.

A wave of humidity lingers outside the door. The stoop can barely fit Ryan. She pauses, which is just enough time for Sophie to push her way outside too. Ryan has to step down off the stoop. So she takes the remaining two steps to be firmly on the ground.

“Ryan, stop!” Sophie stomps down the steps. Ryan can’t move quick enough, so she ends up with Sophie standing over her. Sophie’s breathing hard. Her cheeks and neck are flushed from the club. Her lipstick’s in tact, but there’s a well kissed swell to them too.

Ryan can’t explain the fire in her veins. She shouldn’t have the power to get to Sophie like this. And maybe Ryan doesn’t. Maybe only Batwoman means something to Sophie.

“I have never seen you like that.” Ryan throws a hand towards the club. “Who was that in there?”

“You’re the one who said we didn’t know each other,” Sophie snaps.

“Maybe with good reason!”

Sophie quickly shakes her head. She stabs a finger into Ryan’s shoulder. “You do not get to judge me, Ryan. I am not interested in hearing some speech about how I should be acting. I decide what I want to do. I spent twenty-nine years denying myself that. And I am tired of letting other people tell me what team to be on.”

“You picked a clear one in there,” Ryan retorts. She should have worn her heels. Sophie’s a fucking Amazon woman right now, and it makes Ryan flare up. Makes her puff her chest out more than she needs to.

Sophie says, “I didn’t have a choice!” She catches herself. Her eyes cut to the wall before coming back to Ryan. “Did you know that I worked with the last Batwoman?”

Of course Ryan knows that. Everybody knows Sophie and Kate worked together. It’s why Sophie got suspended last year. Even low level non-criminals like Ryan heard about that. The Crows number two getting the deuces.

Sophie knows too. She keeps going, “For months, we worked together, and she never told me who she was. She never even gave me the chance to keep her secret. And you could say that she was protecting me, but really — ” Sophie’s anger fractures. Her lip trembles, and she sniffles before setting her jaw again. ”She was protecting herself.”

Luke always talks about Kate like she was perfect. Kate stood up for the people of Gotham. Kate had a code. Kate loved Sophie and established a legacy that Ryan’s supposed to carry on. Is hurting Sophie a part of that?

Sophie pushes her hair back out of her face. “I’m sick of playing games, Ryan.”

Ryan’s blood runs cold. “Meaning…?” Does Sophie know?

“Meaning I am going where I’m wanted.”

Ryan sighs in relief. A stressed laugh slips from her lips. It’s not about her. It’s still about the rejection.

Ryan lightens her tone. “You didn’t have to come to the club for that. There’s a line out the door at The Hold Up.” Sophie shakes her head, and the tension’s still tight between her eyebrows. Ryan needs this out. She takes Sophie’s hand in hers to swing it playfully between them. “I’m serious! Much hotter than Mullet. You should see the number of women checking you out every time you’re there. They are waiting for you to give them a chance.”

Sophie’s shoulders drop, like the fight’s slipping out of her. “You’re being nice.”

Ryan runs her thumb along Sophie’s knuckles to undercut her words.

“When have I ever been nice to you, Sophie?”

Sophie gazes down at Ryan in such a tender way that Ryan forgets how to breathe for a second. Forgets that they shouldn’t be toe to toe in an alleyway underneath the moonlight.

Sophie’s natural rasp pokes through. “You tell me.”

The quick hits: saving Sophie from Black Mask, cracking jokes with her and Jordan, the free margaritas. Sophie’s the nicer of the two of them. She stayed with Ryan on the island. She didn’t even look under the mask when she could’ve. She got Ryan back to Mary’s clinic with no questions asked.

She always plays along when Ryan wants a fight. She comes running for every text, every call, and she flips the Bat-signal to see Ryan. Not for some ghost of who used to be.

Sometimes Sophie smiles at Ryan like they’re the only two people in the world. Like now. Ryan gets lost in the warmth of it. The hopeful glow in Sophie’s eyes. Maybe Ryan should’ve been in heels. Sophie wouldn’t have to lean so far down to kiss her. Would it be so bad if Sophie did have a crush? If Ryan maybe —

“OW! What the —” The back door snags on the sleeve of Mary’s dress. She stumbles on the stoop, and her eyes jump up in time to spot them. Ryan and Sophie freeze, hands still together, faces angled towards each other but no closer to bridging the distance between them.

Ryan’s whole body feels like it’s on fire. Like she’s been caught in front of the whole of Gotham with her mask off.

Mary stares down at their hands. Ryan finally remembers to drop it. Sophie just licks her lips and steps back to turn to Mary.

The medical student points back into the club. “I… I could go back inside.”

Sophie walks back up the steps. “I’m calling it a night. Thanks, Mary. This was….” She glances over her shoulder at Ryan, who can’t bring herself to move yet. “Yeah.” Sophie slips into the club.

Mary lightly closes the door behind Sophie. She takes a deep breath in. “WHAT WAS THAT!?” She shrieks. Her eyebrows have practically left her face when she turns to Ryan. “You were supposed to be apologizing, not making out in the alley!”

Ryan snaps back to the moment. She readjusts her top, which she doesn’t have to do since it’s not like Sophie touched her. It’s not like they actually did anything. They just… stared? Looked? Saw each other, maybe.

“We weren’t making out.”

“Oh really?” Mary doesn’t believe her.

“We didn’t even kiss,” Ryan snaps.

Mary snorts. “Don’t sound so disappointed.” Ryan crosses her arms defensively. Mary’s eyes quadruple in size. “Oh my God, are you disappointed!?”

Ryan stomps up the steps to the door. Mary figuratively dissects Ryan with her eyes. Maybe Ryan could sprint through the club. If she starts running, the other Black people at least should run. It’s code. A little stampede, and she can ditch her roommate and this awful line of questioning.

Mary keeps up with Ryan as she speeds up though. Mary fast-walks beside her down the narrow hallway.

She says, “You can’t ignore me. You know that, right? We’re going home together. We need to talk about this.”

“Talk about what?”

Mary jogs to get around Ryan and stand in front of her. Ryan nearly crashes into her. Mary grabs both of Ryan’s shoulders so Ryan has no choice but to look at her. It’s almost not fair that Mary and Ryan are nearly the same height. It gives Mary an advantage when it comes to reading Ryan directly. Plus, Ryan can’t escape the soft concern in Mary’s eyes.

She asks it softly but like she already knows the answer. “Do you like Sophie?”

Ryan scoffs and laughs and shakes her head and does everything she can to look like that’s not true. Because it can’t be true. It shouldn’t be true. “No, I do not like Sophie.” So why does that sound like a lie?

Sophie shouldn’t be up here. She should be back home, like she said, not waiting under the Bat-signal. But she can’t exactly go to Ryan’s loft and ask Ryan what the fuck that was back at the club. At first, it just seemed like judgement. Ryan’s never been subtle about her discontent. She tells Sophie everything she dislikes from the way Sophie’s done her hair to the fact that Sophie’s committed her life to a police state that may never be capable of getting better.

Judgement doesn’t pinch Ryan’s lips though. Judgement is a self-assured raise of the brow. Judgement is that all-knowing smirk and a dimmer switch on Ryan’s normally bright eyes.

At the club, that was something else. That was heat. That was anger. That was jealousy. Ryan might’ve spun it into jokes about The Hold Up, but it started from there. They were so close in that alley. So close as themselves, and that should be the goal of all this, right? Sophie started messing with Ryan to get Ryan to be honest with her. Sophie could take the first step. Drop the charade and tell Ryan that she knows. Ask her to let Sophie in.

Ryan lands on the roof with a whoosh and a soft thud. The wind runs through the wig. What would it feel like through Ryan’s hair? What would Sophie’s fingers feel like?

Ryan shifts her weight from one side to the other. She gives a little “Hi” that sounds nervous even under the voice regulator.

If Sophie speaks, then those nerves will go away. This charade makes it easier. It gives them an excuse and an out. Because if Sophie and Ryan kiss, then Sophie has to change her life. Sophie has to quit her job, and Ryan has to bend her beliefs, and neither of them can ever go back to who they were before. But if it’s Batwoman….

Sophie summons all her strength. “You owe me an apology.”

Ryan glances down at the roof. “Kate was a low blow.”

“And Tyler,” Sophie reminds her. It’s probably a good thing Ryan doesn’t know enough about Julia to bring her up too.

“I’m sorry. I….” She licks her lips and steps closer to Sophie. “I panicked. You’re out here telling people that you have my phone number. What am I supposed to do with that?”

Sophie fakes a thought as she steps towards Ryan. “You could try talking about it, like an actual adult. You are an adult, right?”

Ryan takes another step. They’re only an arms length apart. “Yeah, I’m an adult.”

Sophie’s turn. “Good. And you want me?”

“I….”

Sophie stops. They’re almost toe to toe again. “Yes or no. Do you want me?”

A few agonizing seconds creep in. Ryan doesn’t move, or speak. Dread sinks in. She read this wrong. Ryan really was being nice in the alley, and now Sophie’s pushed too far. She’s gone back on her word, and it’s only going to give Ryan more ammunition against her. She’s going to kill Mary for bringing her out tonight.

“Yes,” Ryan whispers. Sophie jumps forward at the word. “I think…. Yes.”

Sophie drapes her arms around Ryan’s neck. The wig tickles against her bare skin. Ryan’s breath catches in her throat. Tentatively, her hands come up to Sophie’s waist. The gloves bunch her dress. Sophie’s eyes drop from Ryan’s down to Ryan’s lips, then back again. Sophie leans in, so close that their lips almost brush.

“Do you trust me?”

Ryan tenses around her. She says, “I want to. I just… can’t.”

Sophie nods and swallows around the immediate lump in her throat. “Then I can’t do this.”

Sophie detangles herself from Ryan and heads for the doors. She only gets a few steps away before Ryan grabs her hand. Ryan runs her thumb over Sophie’s knuckles the same way she did in the alley.

“We can work on it. It’s not just me, you know,” Ryan says. “I don’t have to work alone.”

Right, there’s Luke and Mary, who lie to Sophie every single time she sees them. There was Julia. Even Alice gets to be in on the action sometimes.

Sophie asks her, “So what’s wrong with me?” Why keep pushing her away? She’s done everything she can think of to prove she’s trustworthy. The last few weeks of jokes and games aren’t the problem. Ryan doesn’t care about kids thinking Sophie’s friends with Batwoman. She doesn’t care about drinks. There's something else at play here. Something Ryan won't admit.

“Soph….” Ryan starts, but no explanation follows. Sophie can’t set herself up like this. Not again.

Sophie pulls her hand back. “Figure that out, and get back to me. Until you do, I’m done.”

a/n: So many fun things in this chapter! Let me know what's working for you and how you felt about our near kisses (one of which was almost a full one -- can you guess which one?)

END OF CHAPTER UPDATED, MONDAY JUNE 21ST AT 10AM.

it's going to be a busy week for me. give me some fun comments and reblogs to keep my energy up?

#batwoman #batwoman fic #wildmoore #ryan x sophie #sophie moore #ryan wilder #mine #batwoman: s2 #fic: i know you even if you don't want me to #mary hamilton

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tipsydipsydo · 4 years

Text

Happy Easter! 🐇 [M]

Topic: You're wearing a sexy bunny costume for them on Easter Sunday!

Gender of the Reader: female

(This Scenario also has a male version!)

Word Count: ca. 500-600 words for each member

Genre: a bit Fluff; most Smut!

Warnings: Dirty Language and Dirty Talk; Petnames; Costume-Play; Pet-Play; Sex Toys; Mastubation; Kitchen-Sex; Teasing, Edging and Overstimulation; Praising; Daddy-Kink; soft Dom-/Sub-Themes; soft BDSM-Themes; Handcuffs; little bit exhibitionism; "public sex" (Sex in Garden); Breeding-/Impregnation Kink; Breeding-Dirty Talk; Mentions of unprotected Sex (please stay safe in reality, always!)

A/N: Happy Easter my Sweeties!!🐰💕

I hope you'll had/still have a great Sunday and got a lot of good food and Sweets!

I wanted to be a little Easter Bunny for you too and wrote a little smutty special! I hope y'all like it!

[Links]

My Masterlist for your requests!

My official Masterlist!

「© tipsydipsydo」

These following scenarios are my intellectual property and belongs only to my blog tipsydipsydo.tumblr.com!

I’ll not accept any kind of reposting, stealing or using/editing my work!

That includes reposting my content on other social media platforms too, even when you link me as the original author.

Thank you.

Jin

You hum dreamingly to the music, that comes out of the radio behind you and swaying rhythmically your hips to the melody. While Jin is in the shower, you decided to set the dining table and cooking the eggs for the Easter breakfast.

Jin is usually the one who wakes up earlier on Sunday mornings and makes breakfast for you. You already tried your best to be a "better" girlfriend and to return the favor of a ready breakfast more often.

But you have to admit that you just love it to sleep in and you have the habit of pressing the snooze button way too often. Up to the point that the alarm clock didn't ring anymore. Maybe that's also the reason why the other days of the weeks are always a drama for you. To 95% you oversleep and only have around 10 minutes left to get ready for work and still catch your metro.

Today is Easter Sunday and as by a miracle you managed to get up earlier than Jin, to shower without him noticing and dress up in your new bought lingerie and recently ordered headband with bunny ears.

The last weeks were super stressful for Jin and there wasn't much time or motivation left for intimacy. That's why you thought Jin deserves a nice view right in the morning as a little Easter gift. Especially when you know that one of his soft spots are you in white, innocent looking lingerie...

An exited smile spreads on your lips as you hear nearing footsteps and a small gasps behind you. Seems like your plan worked out pretty well! You're about to turn around and to smile cheekily at him but there is someone, who is more than eager to get his seductive Easter gift himself.

"Is this here your way to wish me 'Happy Easter', Babygirl? You're the cutest and sexiest Easter Bunny I've ever seen...", say Jin with a breathy voice into your ear and sucks on exactly that spot under your ear that makes your legs weak in no time.

"Y-Yeah, I think so... I-I just wanted to surprise you and treat my Darling with a little gift after such stressful weeks...", you whimper and bite on your lower lip when you feel his hardening cock against your buttcheeks.

"Oh yes, Baby~ I like your little surprise really, really much! Right now, I would prefer to bend you over the kitchen counter and make you feel really good instead of eating breakfast... what do you think?"

"I hoped you would say that... because the eggs aren't ready now and need ten more minutes anyway~"

You hear an amused chuckle from behind and squirm in anticipation when Jin bend you over the counter.

"Hm, has someone here forgot to let the eggs boil right on time? How good that we know, how to use this time properly...", teases Jin and push the fabric of your lace panties out of the way.

Yoongi

You hoped, no you actually thought that Yoongi would finally take some time off for you when it's a freaking official and national holiday for everyone! But you should've known your boyfriend better.

When he "can't" get into the studio to work on his tracks without being super rude with this action, then he would take his work simply at home. Of course you understand when he has to finish a new track because he's in the flow.

But when one track is mostly finished, it leads to ideas for a new song that he has to write down in his notes. Things like this are going on and on with it.

It's damn Easter Sunday and he had left you in your shared bed at seven a.m. in the early morning to "quickly finish this one track before breakfast".

Well, it's 11:30 a.m. now and you two ate breakfast two hours ago. It's an understatement that you're frustrated. You're pretty pissed off.

Officially you wanted to be the one who got up earlier this morning because of the little Easter surprise you planned for Yoongi. You ordered cute Bunny ears a week ago and a matching set of black lace lingerie. Okay, with panties that didn't really exist, just a bit lace covers your vulva. When you tried your outfit on, it actually reminded you of a playbunny outfit.

Yoongi don't want to admit it but thanks to Namjoon you know, that your boyfriend has a little big things for sexy bunny costumes...

Planned was to seduce Yoongi with being a sexy, naughty bunny in the morning so he has to take care of his bunny girl, maybe with a hot round of sex before breakfast.

Well, it seems like you had to take care of your needs by yourself when it seems like that you're so uninteresting for your boyfriend!

Provocatively clickling with you black stilettos, you stalk into the living room to the dining table where he sits. You place yourself next to him, directly onto the table and watch him a few seconds. He still didn't give you one single look.

You growl frustrated and turn your eyes away from you pretty annoying boyfriend, spreading your thighs and grab that pink rabbit vibrator you brought into the living room as well. Only the sound of the vibrations seems to be so irritating that Yoongi is willing to give your sight a glance.

A satisfied smile spread on your lips when you hear Yoongi choke and then coughing, pulling your pussy lips apart to give him an even better view on your drenched and so needy pussy. He clears his throat before he talked to you in a raspy voice.

"Can you explain this here to me? What's that for a bratty behaviour, hm? Desturbing me purposely in my work. Looks like, my little bunny a bit attention-seeking and desperate to get her pussy hole stuffed at Easter time? Well, I think I could satisfy these primal bunny needs definitely better than this shitty vibrator, don't you think?", he growls and smirk cockily at you when he get up from his chair and comes between your legs.

He just need a second to pull his sweatpants down, throwing the vibrator through the whole room and stuffing your needy hole with his own cock.

Namjoon

It couldn't have been better timed when Namjoon realizes that he had forgotten some important papers, that are supposed to be read at signed over the Easter Holidays, in his studio. So when he head out of the apartement to his studio, you use the twenty minutes of being alone in the apartement to set and dress yourself up.

Two weeks ago you went to the sex-store of your trust which has a big, separated floor just with BDSM accessoires to buy yourself a sexy bunny outfit. It's the store where you two get most of your toys and utensils for your play sessions.

Because it's Easter, you planned a sexy surprise for your darling by yourself. Maybe it'll be not the way how Joonie usually like it... but you think, he should try new things too~

You're leaning against the bedroom doorframe, when the apartement door opens again. A playful, dirty smirk forms on your boyfriend's lips in the moment he realize your presence in the hallway. He put his papers without a second thought on the shoe cabinet and drops his jacket carelessly on the floor next to the wardrobe before he makes his way to you.

"I apprechiate your outfit, my sweet little bunny~ But to be honest, I'd like it a little bit more when it would be black lace instead of black leather. For being my cute whiny Sub, you look a little too much like a Bunny Dominatrix in this outfit...", chuckles Namjoon with his deep voice.

His lips are searching for yours when he guides you with your back to your shared kingsize bed. The kiss is dominant, in a kinda leading behaviour. It's the type of a kiss you usually like, a kiss that makes you whiny and needy for him, but not today. Today you'll turn the whole thing around!

You're already on the bed, Namjoon above is you and you're literally waiting for the command that usually follow in such a session. But you make sure it wouldn't come tonight. Tonight you'll be the one who gives commands to Namjoon and makes him beg.

In a moment where Namjoon is distracted, you take your chance and turn your two bodies in a quick move around. Now you're the one who's sitting on his hips and tie your boyfriend's wrist with leather cuffs, that you hidden under the pillows, to the headboard. Just alone Namjoon's confused and disbelieving facial expression was the whole thing absolutely worth it!

"What the fu-"

"Shh, Namjoon. Watch your mouth and behave! When you're a good boy for me today, I'll not tease you soo much and maybe, when you're a really good boy for me, maybe I'd let your pretty cock cum in my pussy. When you're a bratty boy, you won't cum in any way today and I'm would ruin you the way you always ruin me. I want to see you all whiny, sobbing and begging, my dear Darling~", you wisper devilishly in his ear.

Hoseok

You promised Hobi to bake his favourite cake for coffee-time on Easter Sunday. But what you didn't expect, that you would be almost naked while baking! You wear nothing beside this white frilly vintage apron, these bunny ears on your head, the pink lacey string-ouvert (that literally covers nothing!) and this damn remote controlled rabbit-bullet between your legs.

While you're seriously struggling to concentrate properly on the instructions of the recipe, Hobi seems like to has the best time in his life. He's sitting on the opposite side of the kitchen at the dining table and obviously enjoy the sight you give him with your barely covered body.

To see your legs trembling and to hear you whine even more whenever he turns the vibration of the bullet on a higher setting, satisfy this little sadistic devil in him the most. Especially when you're so worked up that your sweet pussy is literally dripping wet, smearing your juices all over the insides of your tighs and little pearls of arousal falling down on the kitchen tiles.

Yeah, you're so turned on it's driving you insane, but it's still not enough to cum. This damn bastard, that you call your boyfriend, knows way to well when you're at the edge to cum and turns the vibration immediately down. Always with the explaination 'to give you the chance again to focus better onto the baking process'.

God, sometimes you think you really start to hate him but deep, deep down you know, that you love his teasing as much he does.

The worst thing about this damn vibrator is that he has these bunny ears. The bullet doesn't just stimulates your g-spot, no. That would be too simple for Hobi. It also torture your clit too, when the tips of the ears rubbing sideways along your clit!

"Baby, I think you have to work a little bit faster when we plan to eat the cake at 15:30 p.m., we need to still bake it and then it has to cool down...", said Hobi in a fake concerned voice. You know very well that he just want to rush you, with the goal that you'll mess the cake up. When this happens he has a good reason to punish you even more~

You shoot him death glares in the moment you're about sprinkle a pinch of salt for taste into the dough. Well... it's unfortunately more than a pinch of salt. A lot more than that.

While you curse about your mistake and the fact that the whole dough is messed up now, Hobi sighs dramatically and stands up.

"Hm, my dear Lady? Do you know that you ruined the whole cake with your unconcentrated behaviour? That's means I'll not get only one piece of cake today and with it not my Easter gift. But you promised me that! How you'll make up for that, hm? I think that just means that I have to punish you."

"Hobi, it's not my fucking fault that I-"

"Honey, watch your mouth. Do you want to blame Daddy for your inadequate discipline? Well then, Daddy has to work with his little Girl on her discipline, right?"

With these words he takes you to the bedroom and make sure you'll be a lot more disciplined after his teaching lesson.

Jimin

When Jimin told you back in the middle of March that he'll went in a diet, you got immediatley suspicious and all alarm bells rings in your head. He promised you that's he just want to make a sugar diet over the next few weeks and with it, over the Easter Holidays, so he couldn't stuff himself full with too many sweets again during easter.

You talked a lot with your boyfriend about it, promised you that he just don't want to eat too much chocolate but beside this, that he'll keep up with his normal eating habits. But now only without a dessert after Dinner and controlling his snacking a bit more. Even the rest of the members had to promise to you that they'll make sure that Jiminie will continue to eat his meals properly.

After the first two weeks you relaxed more and more, realized that he's only on this diet to advoid products with a lot of sugar in it. To make it easier for him and to enjoy the advantages of a sugar diet too, you joined him in his plans.

But that also means to ignore all these delicious sweets for easter in the supermarket. When you two went grocery shopping last week, Jimin shooted death glares to all these chocolate bunnies that tried to seduce him with their cute wrapping foil.

That's why you planned a little Easter surprise for him on Sunday so at least he'll not start to hate Easter completely.

After you two got back from your Brunch (where the restaurant service just wanted to make a nice gesture and placed a tiny chocolate candy in the shape of an easter egg on your seat, frustrated Jiminie only even more), you said to your Darling that you want to freshen yourself up quickly and then join him on the couch.

You stepped out of the bathroom in gorgeous pastel pink high heels, a matching set of lingerie and a metal hairband in the shape of bunny ears on the top of your head. The simple accessoire was decorated with cute flowers, which makes your sexy-cute appearance perfect.

When Jimin hear the clicking sound of your heels, he turns around to you confused until an expression of complete disbelief manifests in his face.

"...because you're on diet and the fact that you can't even eat one tiny chocolate easter bunny, I thought you should be able to-"

"...I should be able to eat at least a bunny out, right?", interrupt you Jimin when he comes to you with dark lustful eyes and a really hungry smirk on his lips.

"...Y-Yes...", you answer him breathlessly as he push you roughly against the wall and makes you drown in his passionate kiss.

"You're always my favourite treat of sweet and you know that, Baby.", growls Jimin into your ear when he directs you backwards to the bedroom.

Taehyung

You bite your lower lips hesitantly as you stare through the vitreous living room door into the big garden of Taehyung's and your shared apartement. Your actual plan was to hide some of the Easter Sweets for Taehyung in the house and in the garden as well.

The idea itself is not bad or problematic at all. Just the fact that you're already dressed in the lingerie, that you bought extra for the sexy surprise you've prepared for Tae, is the actual problem. Maybe also the fact that your neighbours are an elderly couple with way too much time and their intense passion to watch the neighbourhood like hunting dogs.

Especially when the dear old Madame notices something "very interesting", "very unusual" or "very suspicious" she just has to gossip with her dear Ladies on their weekly tea-parties about it.

And as we all know, old people don't know the term "sleep in", they're always already awake at six or seven a.m.

But then Taehyung's word cames back into your mind.

"Let them talk when they don't have a better Hobby than this."

With exactly these words in your head you open the terrace door and step in nothing more than your grey lingerie, your bunny ears and flip flops on your feet into the cool morning air.

Fuck it, let them gossip about whatever god knows!

It's still early in the morning, around 08:30 a.m., that's why every breeze is still a little chilly and you try your best to hide everything in the shortest time possible. You didn't want anything more than finally run inside into the warm living room!

You're so immersed into your hiding project that you don't recognize that someone is coming up behind you.

"Hm? Who do we have here? Did I disturb the Easter Bunny at his work? ...and I didn't know until now that Easter Bunnies are dressed so sexy~", you hear Taehyung's deep voice chuckling.

You gasp startled for breath, instinctively you want to cover your body with your arms and hands. Your Boyfriend starts laughing softly and pulling you into his arms to his warm chest. Automatically you're relaxing again when you're sure that only Tae saw you in this outfit here in the garden. Beside that you also appreciate the warmth of his body really much.

"I didn't know that my usually so reserved girl will become so bold on Easter Sunday and start to run around as a damn sexy bunny in the garden, dressed with nothing more than bunny ears and lacey transparent lingerie~", tease Taehyung with his typical boxy grin.

You're about to open your mouth to explain this unordinary situation but in that moment Tae already press a hungry kiss onto your own lips.

He guides you back the the terrace and pulls, without breaking the kiss, the cover of the garden couch down. Then he sit on the soft but still cool cushions down and placing you onto his lap, pulling you into a new heated kiss. The hard outline of his cock in his pyjama pants against your own damp center promise you, what thing he's planning to so with you. In your garden, on Easter Sunday and at fucking 08:45 a.m?!

"Tae, I don't know if-"

"Hey Baby... you're the one who started this here, sprinting around in our garden just wearing lingerie and bunny ears! I think, we should give our dear neighbours something really naughty but also really good to gossip about, right?", answers Tae your concerns with a smug smirk on his lips and is about to pull his pants down.

God, this Boy just knows how to push your limits in the right way!

Jungkook

Jungkook can't imagine someone who could better fit to him than you. Your personality is amazing, you two share a lot of interests and hobbies and you're just so dirty minded and kinky behind closed bedroom doors like Kookie himself.

But he has to admit that there is something he would like to do but doesn't dare to mention it to you. You've made "not so good" experiences with it in your former relationship.

Jungkooks likes it to have Sex without a condom, likes the feeling of shooting his load right into you, marking your body with his cum. But well, the bastard of your ex-boyfriend really forced you to have raw sex with him when you wasn't ready for it.

You only have been on your pill since a short amount of time back then and you didn't felt really comfortable to have already sex without a condom as a second guaranty.

When you tried to explain your worries to him, he just got mad and accused you to not trusting him. Then he even blackmailed you that he would break up with you when you're still not consent with it.

When you told Jungkook what happened he promised to himself to not mention his kink too early in your relationship. Even when he knows that both of you are completely clean and that you're on birth control. Plus the fact, that you always make sure to take them very regulary, he doesn't want you to feel pressured to do something like that when you're not ready for it. Then he wouldn't be any better than your damn ex!

And now?

Now you're standing infront of Jungkook's bed, almost completely naked, just wearing plushy bunny ears and a tail butt plug. These ears reminds Kookie of the floppy ones of a dwarf ram rabbit. Gosh you look adorable and so, so sexy.

Jungkook can't believe what he's hearing when you open slightly stuttering your lips.

"T-Today is Easter and around this time of a year, bunnies are in m-mating season and I thought... you, as my buck, would like to breed me, your bunny, too...", you mumble and chew nervously on your lower lip.

Kookie is speechless, don't know what to say or where the heck you got the info that he likes raw sex. The corners of your mouth turns into a small cheeky smile.

"You should be more careful when you're on the phone with one of your hyungs and didn't want to get accidentally overheard... And w-when I'm honest, I actually like raw sex. Well, when I trust my partner enough and I trust you, Jungkook. I just wanted to be a good Easter bunny for my buck so bad... p-please mate me, Kook."

Oh, you didn't know until now, how good Kookie will breed his cutest bunnygirl. How wet he could make you with Dirty Talk about Breeding, about filling you up to the brim with his semen, shooting his cum again and again into your hole until it's szoozing out of you.

You'll love the way Jungkook makes you feel~

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needs-to-stop-looking-at-yigas · 3 years

Note

Omorashi Kohga? Don't tell me Sooga wouldn't love to get peed on/'marked' by his beloved master. Gross for sure, but these boys are gross, so...

I was gonna ignore this, because piss kink is NOT my thing. BUT, you do kiiinda have a point? In a real gross way, I can see this. That, and I’m gonna be answering some asks before I get to my main fanfics I’m planning. So, imma try this, but I’ve never written something like this before, so if it isn’t good, oh well, a bitch tried.

Having access to Master Kohga’s room was STILL a new feeling for Sooga. Kohga was currently in his napping spot, and he requested that Sooga clean his room for him while he napped. He knew he was really just trying to nap in peace, but Sooga was not one to refuse a direct order. His room WAS on the sloppy end, and it made Sooga feel better, knowing his bed was made, his floor was mopped, and his things were tucked away. All but his books, which he had just finished dusting. Kohga loved to read, Sooga noticed. They weren’t poetry or old war manuscripts like Sooga would prefer to read, but romances, funny plays, and occasionally historical books of the clan. Then there were the dirty books.

Books and magazines that held lewd material, enough to make a pervert blush. Sooga skimmed through the magazines, only to immediately close them. Pictures of men. LOTS of men. Some without clothes, some with. Mainly without. Sooga was not one to shame his master for his desires, or even the fact that his lust never FULLY stayed with him, but this was a bit...much. Sooga just lightly shook his head, and started to put it away. That was when he noticed a bookmark in one of the more leatherbound ones. He must be reading this one. He read the spine of the book; ‘of Knights and Passions’. Borderline romantic, actually. Sooga grew curious, and opened the page to where the bookmark was, and started reading.

‘He grabbed a hold of his knight’s long, red hair. His fingers coiled so tightly around his locks with such a heavy hand, it brought a sneer to the Knight’s lips. It made Prince Aezielle feel as though he was holding onto fire itself. A beast ready to be tamed, Aezielle was no longer going to tolerate his behavior. The high and mighty attitude he possessed did not fit who he served. He deserved some humbling. The prince pulled down his trousers, and shoved his cock in his face. The little night growled at him, only to be silenced by another hair pull.

'“You want to sound and act like a canine? Fine. Let’s treat you as such.”

He forced back his head, opening his mouth, and shoving himself in past his lips. He pushed himself till he was in the back of his throat, before he pulled himself out, making the red head cough. Before he could open his mouth, Aezielle pushed his head down, and proceeded to urinate right on the top of his head. The knight sat there, helpless and defenseless against his current plight.

"I hope you feel humiliated. I hope you feel like you know your place. I hope you understand that not only is your insolence intolerable, it is suitable for punishment. I hope you reek of your shame for days to come. Until you learn to obey, you shall smell of me."

Past his warm, dripping locks, the knight’s eyes seemed less fiery. Less bold and defiant. Perhaps, he truly was property of his liege'.

Sooga sat there for a moment, dumbfounded. He had just read some fictional story of a prince urinating on his knight, in order to get him to submit. It was disgusting, humiliating, unsanitary. But...Sooga thought about it. He thought of Master Kohga holding his hair like that, forcing possession onto him in a disgusting, demeaning manner. Sooga shouldn't be here on his bed, palming at the bulge that seemed to form.

"Maybe...oh, alright, before Master Kohga wakes up."

Sooga quickly tucked the book away, and sat down on the bed. He pulled himself out of his uniform, and proceeded to stroke his cock. This was shameful, touching himself not only without his permission, but on his own bed. He deserved getting pissed on. Deserved the notion of being tamed in a gross, vile manner. He stroked his cock slowly yet firmly, surprised at how quickly he found himself panting. Oh he REALLY liked this, apparently.

"PLEASE Master Kohga…"

Just once, to see what it was like. See what the hot fluid would feel like pouring down the back of his neck, the possessive look in his eyes upon being caught being so unbecoming. Humiliation and appreciation all in one filthy action. No wonder he was throbbing.

"Hey Sooga, you finished- woah."

Sooga nearly fell off the damn bed the second he was caught. Right. This was HIS room afterall. Sooga grabbed a pillow to cover himself, trying to find some kind of apology suitable. He should've known better than to indulge some fantasy as grotesque as this.

"Master Kohga I can explain!"

Kohga laughed, walking over and grabbing his pretty chin.

"You don't have to explain ANYTHING, Sooga. This is a big, pleasant surprise for me. Honestly all you'd need is a ribbon and you'd be the prettiest present~"

Kohga chuckled, leaning down to peck those lips, sort of into the taste of the drool. He plucked the pillow from his grasp, throwing it to the side and stroking his cock in his nice, skilled hands. He chuckled as Sooga seemed to whine under his touch.

"Now, what got my pretty boy so worked up? I'm dying to know."

He held onto his hand as he was stroked, looking as meek and as defenseless as he could, in hopes that Kohga would at least hear his wishes.

"I...read one of your books."

"Oh you did? Well, color me surprised! Which one?"

"'Of Knights and Passions', I believe."

"Oooh, good pick! Don't spoil anything though, I haven't finished it. What part was it that got your rocks off?"

Sooga hesitated, but Kohga’s prompting hand forced him to speak. He HAD to be more open with his Master, he deserved that much.

"The….part where the prince...uhm…"

"Was it where they fucked on the king's throne? That's a good part."

"I...no, didn't read that part. It was the uh...part where he….peed on him."

There was a silence between them, when Kohga let go of him, laughing till he was near to tears.

"YOU ARE N O T INTO THAT PART, NO WAY."

Sooga sat there, ashamed. Of course Kohga would find it disgusting. Find HIM disgusting even. He was about to just put himself away, before Kohga grabbed onto his wrist, trying to regain his composure.

"Oh my god, okay, I'm done, I'm sorry. I just. Was NOT expecting that, at all. So, is it like, the idea of pee, or a domination thing?"

Sooga shook his head, feeling too embarrassed to elaborate. That was when Kohga bonked his mask against his, finally seeming to calm down.

"I'm done, I promise. Come on big guy, I wanna make you feel good. I didn’t mean to laugh, I promise. I'll even make you fish tonight if it means you'll stop having that sour face of yours."

"...even salmon skin?"

"Even salmon skin. Come on, tell me, like a good boy."

Sooga sighed. He wanted to hide away from it all, but his hard cock demanded he at least explain himself.

"I...I like the idea of you doing it to me, in a possessive sense."

"See how easy that was?"

Sooga forced himself to smile a bit, upon getting the cheek pat from Kohga. He supposed his initial reaction of laughter was warranted, given the absurdity of it all. Sooga was about to just nod and tuck himself away, before Kohga snapped his fingers, pointing to the floor.

"Alright, let's do it then."

"I...pardon?"

"Let's do it! I'm willing to try anything at least once, especially if it means it'll get your cock nice and hard."

Sooga was clearly at a loss for words, unable to make sense of what he did to deserve master Kohga. He hesitated, before Kohga prompted him again, and Sooga obeyed, honestly a bit eagerly. Kohga patted his head, un doing his hair tie and lightly messing up his pretty hair.

"Such a pretty boy, my Sooga. Alright, play with that cock for me."

Sooga obeyed, toying with himself as Kohga ran his fingers through his scalp, really enjoying the rather assertive touch. Kohga pulled at his hair, forcing his head up to look at him. He put his cock right on his mask, rubbing it in his face as though he was bullying him.

"You make it so hard not to talk, you know. Looking the way you do, talking how you do, BEGGING the way you do. I love you, you know that? I love how you’re getting so much more comfortable, finding kinks all on your own."

"You...flatter me, master."

He was having troubles listening, given the fact that he was making himself feel so damn good right now.

"I'm just being truthful. You're my good boy, and I'm gonna give my good boy what he wants. Because he deserves a nice, big reward, doesn't he?"

Sooga nodded. He never felt like he deserved Kohga, but he did in fact, deserve to be rewarded for how far he's come. Deserved to be claimed in this manner. Deserved to be under the full rulership of his master. Kohga pushed his head down, and Sooga touched himself faster, knowing he was going to finally fucking get it.

And he absolutely did. He felt the warm stream start from his neck, before Kohga let go of his hair, in order to let it freely flow down his locks. It was hot to the touch, like Sooga expected, but what was so fantastic about it, was Kohga’s voice.

"That's it. Stay just like that, I'm not done with you. You're my boy, you're gonna smell like it. You're so into me, you're literally jerking yourself off while I just pissed all over you. You gonna cum? Cum on my floor? In my room? In MY arms? Do it. Do it and look at me."

Sooga lifted his head up, feeling his cock throb and the hot piss run down the side of his features. Kohga was staring at him so intently, so full of authority and leadership over him. Was it any wonder that he swore, and came all over the once clean floor? All while staring Kohga in his beautiful face? Kohga chuckled, shaking his head as Sooga pumped his cock free of all that nice, hot cum.

"So. I take it we found something you liked, huh big guy?"

Sooga found himself practically whimpering as he held onto his cock. That was everything he wished, and more. He nodded slowly, bonking his mask against Kohga’s.

"I...I do. But I enjoy any means of being claimed by you. You're wonderful, Master Kohga."

"Yeah and I'm in love with a little pissbaby. Let's get you a shower that ISN'T golden, dirty boy."

So Sooga had a rather odd, disgusting kink. But so long as Kohga accepted it of him, he could hold absolutely no shame.

#asks #kohga #sooga #lemon #listen #me and kohga will try anything at least once

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lord-explosion-baku · 5 years

Text

Yandere Warlock!Monoma x insecure witch!reader

Warnings: dark themes, yandere, suggestive themes, hinted dubcon scenario, light violence

A/N: THIS WAS RUSHED AS HECK. Like when I say that, the story just moves along really fast and I’m hhhh sorry about it. This is the first thing I’ve ever written for Monoma though! Fun stuff! Also ahhhh I’m not loving the way the reader reacts to how Monoma treats her. I’m so used to writing the reader with a hint of ANGERY BASTARD inside but I figured that if she’s insecure, and wack enough to fix a love potion for someone, this might be natural for someone like her?? Idk dood. I love magic and I am a newt.

“Tell me you love me…”

You’d spent so much of your time yearning for Neito Monoma, wondering if he’d ever give you the time of day. It was wild and unexpected of you to crush so hard for someone as arrogant as that warlock; usually types that constantly had to one up everybody irked the living hell out of you, especially since you were too modest by nature, too nervous to ever give yourself any credit when you’d excel, but Monoma paid you a few compliments here and there. He smiled at you during passing periods and even told you he liked the way you cast your spells. You thought that maybe he was this way with all the other witches, even so, he made you feel less obscure, visible to even a stronger caster such as him. You had no idea that he’d reciprocate your feelings, at least, until it was too late.

It was a simple potion, you couldn’t even call it a love potion. Sure, you may have added some reagents that had similar properties one would put in a love potion, but it wasn’t supposed to be for “love.” You just wanted to be more recognized by him. And woof, after you’d slipped that potion into his morning pumpkin juice, you were for sure recognized.

Things started out fine. You had stumbled upon Monoma in the school gardens, a place he rarely studied but it was one of your main haunts. He was sifting through flowers, making an eclectic bouquet full of different varieties of your flora friends. When he’d caught you staring at him, he gave you a bashful smile that nearly melted your heart.

“I was hoping this would be a surprise,” he said, tying a black ribbon around the bouquet that made the various colors of each petal pop out more. He held the bouquet out to to you and when you took it, his long warm fingers lingered of yours. Clear blue eyes scanned your face, lingering on your lips before you brought the bouquet to your nose to take in the sweetened aroma. “The prettiest flowers for the prettiest girl.”

After that, you spent so much more time with Monoma. He seemed pretty normal to you other than how often you caught him staring at you from across the classroom. He’d leave you cute little notes, if you could call them notes; honestly, they were a bit more like sonnets than anything, and he’d bring you nice gifts and pay you sweet compliments. He made you feel special. You had never known that someone who spent most of his time boasting about his power and shutting everyone else down had such a way with words! He was nearly the perfect boyfriend.

Until he started to get a little more creative with his gift giving. You’d find roses left on your pillow when you returned back to your dorm room after a hard day’s work. Warlocks weren’t permitted to enter the witch’s dorms but somehow Monoma figured out a way past certain enchantments. You thought it was cute that he was willing to break some rules for you. After you told him that you were interested in brewing a certain master level potion that required fairies blood, a super rare rageant that not even Aizawa, your potion’s professor, could get his hands on, Monoma came to you with a box full of four vials of fairies blood. That was a bit excessive. The potion only called for a tiny bit.

Monoma grew more violent towards other warlocks in your life as well. He’d hexed your best friend, Hanta Sero, giving him octopus arms after Sero carelessly threw his arm around your shoulders in the main hall, right in front of Monoma and sometime after Kaminari asked you what you saw in your new, probably too invested boyfriend, Kami’s lips were seen sewn shut for about four hours until a professor figured out how to reverse the curse. Kaminari never told you how it happened, but after everyone who was supposed to be your friend started avoiding you, you kinda figured you knew what was going on.

On top of everything else, he was advancing on your hardcore. You enjoyed the attention, in fact, you craved it, but you weren’t ready to go all the way with him and he was beginning to get really pushy. When you didn’t do whatever he wanted, he’d get frustrated, accusatory, he’d make you feel guilty about things you never did! Claiming that you weren’t faithful to him seemed like his favorite thing to do and the only way to get him to stop was for him to use a strange truth spell on you, one that you were always afraid would work so you’d tell him about the potion you slipped him, though the questions he asked never lead to that. Once he was satisfied with your answers, he’d litter your neck and body in hickeys, little bruising love marks to make sure that if you weren’t committed enough, everyone else knew that you belonged to him.

So you knew you had to confront him.

Walking up the steps of the astronomy tower, your shared secret spot with Monoma, the place you’d use to make out amongst other things without being caught by any school faculty, you gripped the note you’d written out for Monoma tightly in your trembling hands, trying to steady your breath. You knew what you’d done and you had to admit to Monoma that you were responsible for how he was acting. Aizawa always said that you shouldn’t mess around with love when it came to magic. You didn’t think you were when you’d made that potion, but deep down, you knew what you were going for. This was your stupid mistake and you had to right your wrongs. You shoved the note in your pocket and opened the astronomy room door.

Monoma was already there, standing by the extravagant telescope, tapping his foot impatiently. “You’re late,” he said, hands latching onto your hips immediately. “I was beginning to think that I was going to have to fetch you.”

Instantly, he yanked you close so your body pressed flush up against his, and he turned so your back was against the wall. His body felt… warmer than usual.

“I missed you,” he murmured, nuzzling into your neck. Almost instantly his tongue slid out and he licked a strip up your neck to your ear, making you shudder against him. “Don’t make me wait for you again, angel. I can’t stand not seeing you.”

He squeezed your hips before trailing a hand up to the edge of your shirt, thumb gently caressing the skin underneath. “How are you?” He asked, playfulling toying with the elasticity of your skirt.

“Um- I’m okay,” you stammered, catching his hand in yours that only made him smirk as he brought the back of your wrist to his lips.

“Just okay?” He lifted a brow, brushing his lips across your skin. “Better now that I’m here?” He closed his eyes and breathed you in. “Oh!...” you took in another long whiff. “You got a new perfume…”

He brought your arms to hang around his neck, keeping your gaze locked into his. You wondered if he could tell just how guilty you were just by looking at you. “Did my sweet girl have a bad day?”

“I’ve just been… a little stressed, is all.”

“Mmmm, I can tell,” he mused, “lucky for you, I know the perfect way of relieving tension.”

You bit your lip, dreading the blood that undoubtedly rushed to your face. Even if Monoma wasn’t all there, he still made your heart jump, especially when he got himself riled up.

“Sound nice?” He smirked, leaning closer back to your face. “I’ll be gentle. You know I only want to take care of you, right?”

“Neito,” you began, turning your head away from his cool, mint scented breath. “N-not right now…”

He scoffed. It was too easy to aggravate him and pissing him off was a dangerous game to play. He never… forced you to do anything you didn’t want to, but he was not above throwing fits. “Then why don’t you tell me what’s going on with you? Honestly Y/N, you’ve been acting strange for weeks, and if you don’t want me to show you just how much I love you, then you might as well come out and tell me who you’ve been fucking already.”

“Neito!” You shot him an incredulous look. “I haven’t been sleeping with anybody! You know I’m a-!”

“Who is it? You can tell me,” he cut over you, not bothering to hear you out. “You know I’ll always forgive you, but I want to know what filth has been tarnishing what’s mine.”

“Nobody, Neito! I’ve never had sex!”

“Was it Todoroki? I saw him talking to you after your Charms class.”

“He was lending me notes! I missed classes because I was with you!” Jesus, you hadn’t even seen Monoma after you had charms, he was like some kind of obsessive ninja.

“It better not have been that trash, Katsuki Bakugou! He’s been eyeing you since the moment he saw that you were with me. I bet he can’t stand seeing me have something that he doesn’t!”

“You’re not listening to me!” You cried, moving your hands from his back to gently cup his face. You watched as his eyes went from feral and angry to soft and loving as you drew your thumbs across his lips, trying to ease him back to his senses. “Neito, nobody’s been talking to me… even if they were, I’d let them know there’s only one guy for me. I… really liked you, Neito. I liked you enough that I did something very wrong and it has hurt you and for that, I’m sorry. ”

“Hurt me?” He didn’t understand.

“I spiked your drink with a love potion. I thought it would just make you notice me, but now everything is wrong!”

The pregnant pause between you and Monoma was nearly deafening. He lifted his hand to neatly place over yours, his body hot. His eyes searched yours, seeming to register what you were saying. But his eyes lied.

“Liked?” His hands tightened over yours. “As in past tense?”

“That’s not the point and not really what I meant-!”

“Oh, darling, don’t be cute with me right now. I’m thinking!”

You only realized how hard you were shaking when he pulled away from you to let you breathe. Monoma ran his fingers through his hair, messing up its usually neat style. He let out an exaggerated sigh and began to pace. You brought the note out of your pocket. If he couldn’t understand your words, maybe it’d make more sense to him if he’d read them?

You reached out for his shoulders, he tensed at your tender touch for a moment before relaxing against you. You hugged him from behind, burying your face into his back and held the note out in front of him. “Please read it,” you asked, muffled by his blazer.

Gingerly, he took the note out of your hand. He read it over; it basically said all that you had done, when you did it, and why you did it. You noticed his back growing damp and you only realize that you were crying when he turned to face you, with an unreadable expression.

Monoma’s thumb found your cheek and he wiped away an escapee tear you hadn’t intended to let him see. He sighed and watched your lips part, a natural, possible submissive instinct you’d picked up since you started dating the warlock. “I love you, Y/N,” he muttered, trailing his warm, now shaking fingers down to your chin. “I love you so much, it hurts.”

“I-I know.” You forced yourself to speak even though your skin was nearly vibrating from anxiety. “And-“ you gulped “-It’s all my fault. But I’m going to fix this, Neito. You won’t have to hurt… anymore.”

Monoma’s hand found your neck, his touch tentative and gentle at first until his fingers wrapped around you and he started to squeeze.

“You know?” He demanded, his face inching closer towards yours. “If you know how much pain I’m going through, then why the hell are you trying to push me away? Why don’t you ever say you love me back? Why is my angel lying to me?!”

“I’m not,” you squeaked back, pulling on his arm but that only encouraged him to back you up against the wall again.

“I’m going to make you tell me who’s making you say these things to me and then I’m going to have you watch as I strap them to a chair and set them on fire!”

“N-no, Neito,” you choked out as he began to raise you against the wall. The corner of your eyes started to blacken as you stared into the raging blue irises of the crazed blonde.

“I’ve done so much for you, Y/N, and I’ve asked so little in return!” He scoffed at the pathetic, reddened face you were making. You didn’t think you could hold on much longer. “Tell me who it is, Y/N. Tell me who it is or I swear I’ll kill every last warlock, hell, every last caster in this whole goddamn school!”

“Aizawa!” You cried out, noting the shifting black figure across the tower windows.

Monoma blinked, registering who you had named. He was silent for a moment, not noticing the older warlock muttering an incantation behind him.

“Filthy slut,” Monoma finally seethed. “You like older men, then? I bet he gets a kick out of that, taking advantage of something so pure-“ he dropped you to the floor “-so fragile.”

Tears were streaming down your face. You couldn’t manage to look at him and didn’t dare look at Aizawa while he was preparing a spell without Monoma noticing.

“I bet you call him daddy before he makes you choke on his cock, huh?” Monoma grabbed a fistful of your hair, forcing you to look up at him. “Once I rid the world of him, I’ll make you do everything you've done to him to me. I’ll be your daddy then, and you’ll be my dirty. little. princess.” He laughed dryly, yanking your head closer to his crotch. “But why wait until then when I have my pretty angel on her knees all ready for me?”

“That won’t be happening.” Aizawa’s low voice sounded across the room. Before Monoma could even turn, Aizawa muttered something in Latin and your boyfriend’s arms were magically bound together and he fell to his knees beside you.

You grabbed Monoma before he could topple over onto the floor, hugging him tightly, whispering ‘I’m sorry’s’ over and over again. Monoma looked at you incredulously before thrashing around in your embrace as Aizawa approached the two of you.

“Obsessive and violent behavior, attempted assault on a student,” Aizawa sighed. “This is exactly why you don’t screw around with love magic, little witch.”

You wiped at your wet face, looking up to your teacher. “You knew?”

“Of course I did.”

“Then why,” you sniffed, looking apologetically bac to Monoma leering next to you, “why didn’t you do something sooner?”

“We have to from our mistakes by facing the consequences,” he said as if your situation were so simple. A potion vial appeared in his hand. “Now it's time to take care of your mistake. Step back.”

You looked to Monoma who had his lip curled up at your teacher. His eyes flicked to you. “Don’t you dare.”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered before scooching away from the writhing warlock.

“Stay away from me!” Monoma snarled at Aizawa as he got a bit closer.

“You need to drink this,” Aizawa said to him, “it’s going to cure you of your ailments.”

“Lying pig!” Monoma all but screeched at your teacher. It burned you to see him this way. This was all your fault, all your fault. “You just want her for yourself!”

Monoma’s eyes once again found yours as he pleaded, “angel don’t do this to me. You love me right? I love you… tell me you love me baby, just this once— KEEP YOUR HOBO HANDS OFF OF ME!”

Monoma kicked his legs up, nearly knocking the vial out of Aizawa’s hands. Your teacher sighed, “at this rate, it might be better to just knock him out.”

“I dare you to try,” the blonde growled.

“Neito, please,” you silently begged, “this is only going to help you.”

Monoma answered you with feral noises, he was practical foaming at the mouth, being over dramatic and kicking himself away from his threat, even while Aizawa backed off and waited for your go ahead.

“If you do this for me-“ you inhaled, heart beating rapidly against your chest “-I’ll do anything and everything you want.” Though, you were sure that after this, Monoma would want nothing to do with you. “I promise you, Neito, anything.”

Monoma scowled at you. “You promise?” He asked. “Anything?”

Another tear fell to your cheek. You nodded.

He finally let up. He stopped his squirming and Aizawa could finally get close to him. Monoma didn’t fail to warn Aizawa that he was going to “be the end of him,” before Aizawa popped the vial into his mouth, and Monoma drained it dry, all while keeping his glare on you.

Minutes passed. You stayed on the floor, allowing silent tears to roll off your face while Aizawa stood cross armed, watching the motionless Monoma intently. Finally, Monoma groaned, squeezing his eyes shut.

“How are you feeling?” Inquired Aizawa.

“I…” Monoma winced. “My head feels like it’s splitting in half…”

“That’s to be expected.”

Guilt hung on your shoulders. Still, you managed to reach out to Monoma’s legs. His eyes opened, he looked right at you, then down to the floor, crossing his legs closer in to himself.

“You should probably go,” Aizawa said to you.

You never wanted this. You never wanted Monoma to be hurt, never wanted him to be obsessive or possessive, never wanted to feel how did you now. You just wanted him to recognize you so you did something vile to him and now you had to live with your guilt and your shame. Now you had to live with Monoma hating you. And you carried your guilt all the way home, using it to cry yourself to sleep.

You didn’t go to school the next day. You would have to face your problems sooner or later but after the night you had, you couldn’t face Monoma or Aizawa or anybody else who would without a doubt know about the heinous act you pulled.

You went into town, trying your hardest to forget about who you were, but whenever you saw a couple holding hands or simply exchanging glances, your heart stung. You managed to split Monoma’s head in half while you simultaneously ripped your heart to shreds. It was what you deserved.

Your legs felt heavy as you crawled into bed. You hardly had enough energy to kick your sheets over your body. You thought you just about drained yourself of all of your tears, but when your head hit the pillow, they came rushing back to you. You could only hide for so long. You were going to have to go to school tomorrow.

Sleep crept its way into your bedroom all the while another force snuck its way in. You were busy having a dream of being forced into a cauldron, when a heavy weight was pushed onto your torso. Your eyes snapped open and you found yourself face to face with Neito Monoma.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” he said, a sickly sweet smile crawling across his face. “You were so still, so… perfect… Did you know you talk when you sleep?”

“Monom-!” Before you could get his full name out, Monoma’s lips locked into yours. He moaned as he kissed you, fingers wrapping around your wrists and bringing them up above your head. He took your breath away, but it wasn’t all that uninvited. You had missed him.

He pulled away, sighing as he took in your flustered physique. His body pressed down harder on you and you were finding your breathing to be a bit strained. He was crushing you.

“I waited for you today,” he mused, peppering kisses down your collarbone. “It seems I’m always waiting for you…”

“What… are you doing here?”

“I’m hurt you even have to ask,” he chuckled sarcastically. “Don’t you remember the promise you made me before making me drink that poison?”

You promised him you’d do anything he wanted. “But the potion was supposed to change you back…”

“It didn’t work,” he said thoughtlessly while his hand slid down to palm you breast.

“W-wait!” You grasped his hand but his merely pushed your arm back down, pulling his knees up to hold your sides tightly.

He glowered down at you. “What I mean to say is, the first potion you slipped me didn’t work.” He smirked. “Do you think that I’m so much of a fool that I couldn’t tell that a drink of mine had been spiked? I was insulted at first, of course, but your actions did give me incentive to pursue you. I’ve always had these feelings for my little angel, and soon, you will too.”

In one swift motion, Monoma held both of your hands back with one of his, while the other pressed glass against your lips. Cold liquid was forced down your throat. Panicking, you swallowed, making Monoma grin and coo, “good girl.”

You coughed when he pulled the vial away from you. He hushed you and kissed your forehead. “Things will be better this way,” he whispered as your body began to shake. “You’ll see me just as I see you. We just have to wait a few minutes.”

Your head spun and it felt like your body was sinking into your bed. Your mind was clouding over and there was nothing you could do about Monoma’s wet, hot, hungry kisses across your body. But in a matter of minutes, just like he said, it wasn’t of any negative concern. Your head, along with your heart, was changing.

“Neito,” you sighed his name and leaned up against your bed.

Monoma placed a tender kiss on your stomach before looking up at you with the most dazzling and brilliant blue eyes. You lifted your hand out to him and he wove his fingers through yours.

“Is my angel ready to make good on her promise?” He asked. You nodded and he grinned, crawling up your bed to level his head with yours. “Then let’s start with one simple request,” he said before brushing his lips against yours.

“Tell me you love me.”

TAGS FOR EVERYTHING (NOT SPICY): @ayeputita @yandere-inamorata @dee-madwriter @unboundbnha @rizamendoza808, @rubycubix @smbody-stole-mycar-radio @zellllyyyy @sarcastictextstuck @kpanime @captain-sin-allmight-queen @psionicsnow @wickedlewicked @ghost-of-todoroki @kattariapenn @im-an-adult-sometimes @bnhya @local-senpai @eggpienutbuttercroissant @usernamekate94 @reyvenclaww @hi-ho-and-hello @rubyred-imagines

#bnha x reader #bnha #bnha imagine #bnha reader insert #reader insert #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #mha #monoma x reader #neito monoma x reader #monoma neito x reader #tw yandere #tw dubcon #yandere male #yandere!monoma #yandere!monoma x reader #neito monoma #monoma #yandere

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c-c-cherry · 4 years

Note

I simply must ask... could you spare some spooky Halloween headcanons? I know it’s not quite Halloween yet but I’d love to see your spin on a jojo Halloween!

Oho....hohoho...you have no idea what kind of a beast you’ve awakened in me...

Halloween is arguably the best holiday ever because free candy, costumes, and the weather is fucking PERFECT. (also idk what’s up with the rest of y’all but Canadian thanksgiving is in the middle of October so I’m still riding the high of good thanksgiving food by the time its Halloween (AND I’m half-American so we celebrate it in November too hehehe)

But long story short I love spooky season (and autumn in general) with a burning passion and I am SO willing to go hard on jjba spooky headcanons

Thanks again to @jjadegreen for alway being my best headcanon bud!!

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Part One:

-For the sake of this, I’m making them like 13 or something, like maybe not even a year after they met

-In 19th century England, it was actually pretty typical for them to have a bonfire on Halloween!!

-Halloween costumes were popularized a few centuries ago in France so you bet our phantom blood buds were wearing costumes and shit :)

-I doubt the rich participated in such “unruly” stuff like lighting shit on fire and bearing torches and whatever (but you never know)

-Like George probably spoiled Jonathan with candy as a kid and let him dress up with his school friends and that was it lol

-Dio though OH MY GOD-

-You know based on where he grew up that all that wild shit definitely happened

-He can’t say that he misses living like that, but there’s some kind of weird nostalgia that comes with it

-...which is why Jonathan is really confused when he catches Dio sneaking out of the mansion in the middle of the night

-Begrudgingly, he tells Jojo his plan and this boy’s eyes LIGHT UP

-Instead of being a “stupid, crybaby, tattletale,” as Dio puts it, Jojo is like,,,super hyped

-“Oh! I have an idea! Why don’t we sneak out in costumes so no-one knows it’s us??”

-The sheets on their beds may have two holes in them now, but it's worth it

-They hijack a horse or some shit and skeet over to a giant bonfire

-Dio thinks it's gonna be a drag since Jonathan is there to watch his every move, but it's actually,,,really fun

-As a kid who’s barely ever left his sheltered property, Jonathan is having the time of his life and Dio never thought he would be happy to see Jonathan so happy

-It ends with the two of them sitting by the river, absolutely exhausted from the rush and Jonathan pulls out this bag of shit from his pocket and is like

-“It’s candy!! :D”

-Dio could never really afford things like sweets on Halloween growing up so he’s a bit touchy about it but OH MY GOD that shit is GOOD

-Probably one of the only times where they actually bond properly

-BUT IF THIS IS MY POCKET DIMENSION THEN I CAN SAY THAT THEY BECOME FRIENDS >:)

Part Two:

-I’m just gonna start out with the fact that Joseph is fucking OBSESSED with candy. You know those kids you knew growing up that loved it more than anything on this goddamn earth? *cough cough @jjadegreen*

-That is Joseph

-And now that he consumes that type of shit with the power of mastered Hamon at his fingertips,,,holy shit man,,,it's like a child’s sugar rush but 100x worse

-Caeasr is put in charge of Jojo to make sure he doesn’t do anything idiotic *which he definitely will trust me*

-The MOMENT he goes to the bathroom, Suzi pops in like “JOJO!!!! :) Let's go trick or treating!!!”

-He can’t say no to that, bro,,,he and Suzi are tight ;-;

-While Lisa Lisa is out to meet Speedwagon and Erina and bring them back over to where everyone else is, Joseph sneaks out with Suzi and the two of them dash off into the streets of New York

Caesar: *steps out of bathroom*

“Jojo, what the hell do you and Suzi want for dinner?”

*silence*

“...Jojo?”

*Hears the screams of of children in the distance*

“JOJO, NO—”

-So turns out Joseph’s way of trick-or-treating at such an old age is just terrorizing young children and ransacking them for candy

-Suzi Q is just totally unphased by how awful this is and just thinks its the funniest shit

-Caesar is running out into the streets of New York like ???? and spots Joseph being himself and he could probably just pretend he doesn’t know them

-But,,,Joseph may be an idiot but he’s his idiot and Suzi Q is his bimbo best friend so he goes out to drag them back home

-Erina, Lisa Lisa, and Speedwagon are already home by the time they get back and Caesar sits Joseph down and chews him out in front of everyone

-Erina is super pissed and lectures him about “Joestar values” or whatever and tells a really embarrassing story about how a kid took his candy once when he was little and he cried about it for DAYS

-Caesar is still really angry about it so he replaces all of Joseph’s gummies with sugar free ones (you goddamn know the ones I’m talking about) but he didn’t know Joseph WOULD EAT THEM ALL AT ONCE

-He is so fucking sick on November 1st

-Also off-topic but Lisa Lisa gives out dental floss or some shit on halloween

Part Three:

-Honestly all Jotaro wants to do is buy candy for himself, hole himself up in his room like he always does, and just munch and watch shitty horror movies

-But of course he has actual friends now

-Kakyoin tackles him before he can get his ass upstairs and suggests that they go out and trick-or-treat

-To which Jotaro thinks is a joke and laughs because he’s not only 17, but also 6’5” but Kak’s face looks dead serious

-Kakyoin goes on this long, detailed ramble about how he meticulously made the best Halloween route for them to get the best candy

-Now THIS is when Polnareff abandons whatever he and Avdol are doing to join in on the stupid plan they have

-When Kakyoin comes back with a handful of white sheets, they already know what he’s thinking and its brilliant

Kakyoin’s 5-step, foolproof Halloween plan:

Step one: It’s already established that stands can hold non-stand items (like when Star Plat whipped Iggy across the desert) so what’s stopping them from being able to have sheets over their heads?

Step two: They faze a bit of their stands into the ground so that they at least resemble the height of children (plus non-stand users can’t see anything besides the sheets so it's perfect)

Step three: Polnareff pretends to be the father of these shy children who can’t speak (he looks the oldest) while Jotaro and Kakyoin hide nearby so their stands don’t de-summon

Step four: Hit up every good house in the neighbourhood

Step Five: Candy.

(Kak used to put a sheet over hierophant all the time as a kid and always got twice the amount of candy each year)

-It actually works pretty well, aside from the fact that Star would sometimes scream “ORA” in a really deep, manly, not seven years old at all voice whenever the people at the door would try to speak with him or make him say ‘trick-or-treat’

-They finally reach the richest house in the neighbourhood, where the snootiest lady lives (but she has a shit ton of candy leftover every year since no one goes there)

-Once the stands knock on the door, she starts saying stuff like “ohh, let me see your faces so I make sure you aren’t too old for this” and ducks under to look at the sheets…

-...Only to find that there’s literally nothing there

-She looks up at Polnareff like 👁👄👁 and Kakyoin seems to get the message because one of hierophant’s tentacles grabs her ankle and she SCREAMS and throws her entire candy stash at them, slamming the door behind her

-Half of them are full-sizes chocolate bars. Candy acquired.

-When they get back, Joseph is so fucking angry that they didn’t invite him out for Halloween shenanigans >:(

-Avdol and Holy have a very nice chat, meanwhile. They answer the door while everyone's gone and are so sweet to the kids about their costumes :)

-Also Avdol is 100% the kind of person to bake pumpkin seeds and season them and shit

-Kakyoin sorts all his candy and puts it on a spreadsheet and also make a pie chart just like he does every year

-T’was a very successful halloween

Part Five:

-Giorno is probably short enough to go out if he really wanted to

-But he has maturity issues and there would be no way in hell that the Bucci Gang would catch him going out in a costume and begging for candy

-So as soon as all the daily tasks and shit are met Giorno locks himself in his room

-He honestly wants some candy and to watch spooky movies with the gang but he just feels like an outsider to all of that stuff since he never did it

-So Bruno slips a thing of dracula-themed chocolate pudding under his door and leaves him be :)

-Narancia and Mista DO go out, however

-Not only do they go out and steal shit, but they also go and hit up houses for candy just for the fun of it

-The moment the clock strikes 6 Trish is OUT of there

-Girl is hitting up as many parties as she possibly can and eventually meets up with Nara and Mista at some shitty Halloween party and end up just buying really shitty beer and going to the graveyard or something

-Fugo wants none of that shit

-He’s perfectly content sitting with the black cat that Giorno made him and watching shitty reruns of whatever’s on

-Bruno takes out his tacky Halloween apron that definitely looks something like this

-Fugo helps him make all this really good spooky-themed dessert shit and helps him sort the candy in the nut and nut-free bowls :))) (because Bruno really goes and does that)

-Abbacchio seems like the kind of person who would go really fucking hard with Halloween decorations

-Like, no explanation why, he just loves it and everyone knows not to get in his way

-The moment October 1st comes around, this man is in his ELEMENT. He’s READY.

-It’s the one month where he looks anywhere near normal compared to other people and man is ready to rock that shit

-Later that night they go to check on Giorno and find him asleep surrounded by bags of candy

-Turns out he snuck out and had a good time after all :’)

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You’re wondering why I skipped part 4, right? ↓ ↓

I’m sorry to disappoint y’all, but I don’t think I’m gonna be doing much for Whumptober this year! (I’m just shit at monthly challenges in general lmao) but I think y’all need a breather from all this giant dump of whumpy stuff coming this month, so I, your dear friend Cherry, have decided to write fics throughout the month that I dub SOFT HALLOWEEN :D (with uhhh a side of whump and hurt/comfort and all that shit because I can’t help myself)

It’s gonna vary (hopefully from parts 1-5)! I didn’t add any part four headcanons in here because Jade and I are literally writing part 4 shenanigans first and we didn’t wanna spoil anything :)

SPEAKING OF SPOILERS here’s a horrifying, blurry, teaser picture that’s only gonna make sense once you read the fic:

Isn’t it beautiful?

Hope you enjoyed these!! Tell me what you want the Jojos to do on Halloween!

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Ok so apparently its not normal to sort your candy by type, count it all out and then put it into a spreadsheet which then gets made into a graph? Because I did that. EVERY. FUCKING. YEAR. Ask Jade. She was there every goddamn time. Please I’m begging you someone else tell me you did shit like this I need to know

#jjba #jjba headcanons #halloween #halloween headcanons #jojos's bizarre adventure #phantom blood #battle tendency #jojo's bizzare adventure golden wind #vento aureo #stardust crusaders #jonathan joestar #ask-c-c-cherry #joseph joestar #jotaro kujo #giorno giovanna #spooky month #:)

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alexlabhont · 4 years

Text

I didn’t mean to fall in love with you

Chapter Four.

Book: Queen B - Choices (Universe)

Pairing: Poppy Min-Sinclair x Trans!Male MC (Beck Hughes)

Genre: Canon re-write (Because I can)

Rating: Anyone can read it, really

I´ll be posting this one over here because Tumblr, for some reason, thinks my secondary blog is a bot...

This is me trying to write by and for the Trans community, specially FTM community, meaning, trans guys, but I actually took the liberty to use They/them pronouns for everyone out there who´s interested (Also, the name Beck was the most neutral one I could find, trying to use the cannon Bea Hughes)

Now, about the PAIRING... I will be using choices style, kinda, because I want to give you choice at some point. If you have any comment, PLEASE BE RESPECTFULL and patient with me. This is also my first english fanfic and english is not my mother language, so... i’m sorry fo the grammar errors

CHAPTERS

The beginning

Chapter one

Chapter two

Chapter three

ONE-SHOTS

Just a dance (Zoey x MC)

——————————————————————

“What the hell are you doing?”

Zoey Wade. The nerve of this girl of interrupt her meal. Poppy took the time to leave her fork down before bury her gaze into the other girl.

“I should be asking you the same thing. Who do you think you are to talk to me?” She asked exasperated.

So far she was doing good, the last details of her plan were tuned, the day to destroy Chloe and take back her very deserved number one place had come. The excitement she get every time she made a perfect move in order to obtain what she wants was in her veins, but of course, something had to happen. Or someone.

“Don’t play the fool, Poppy. It doesn't suit you. I'll ask once again: What are you doing with Beck?”

“Oh, what do we have here…?” She thought, intrigued.

“I’m sorry, did you crashed your head against the pavement or why do you think I owe you an explanation?” Poppy pushed her salad aside, her appetite completely gone because of the insolence. This Nobody thought she could come and disrespect her in her own spot of the cafeteria like they were in the same level. Zoey was seriously stupid. “Whatever me and Beck are doing is not you fucking business, Wade. Why don’t you just get a life a little less pathetic and go on with it.”

The spark in Zoey’s eyes changed, a little mix between anger and a cold serious look that, Poppy had to admit, scare her for a split second and then… jealousy? The other girl leaned on the table towards her, threatening, trying to intimidate her, but Poppy stood still, not giving her the pleasure to give in to her ridiculous games. Especially feeling all those eyes over them, people murmuring and whispering. She couldn’t let her have her way.

“Listen very closely, Min-Sinclair: I care about Beck and we all here agree you’re a selfish bitch. I know you’re not up to something good, so I will do everything on my power to make sure Beck’s far away from you claws.” That was so ridiculous that Poppy cracked a smile, making fun of Wade. She couldn't even be mad with a clown like her. “I’m telling you now, back off…”

The two of them kept that position a few second, a fight between wills neither of them wanted to loose. Finally, was Zoey the first to walk away, falsely believing her message was received.

Oh, Zoey… as if you could do something to stop her from her aims.

“Hey, Zoey?” Poppy called, the daggers in her mouth ready to hurt her really bad. “Why would anyone be interested in you while they have me?” Zoey stopped immediately, the strike hitting the spot. Poppy smirked, understanding everything right in the moment. Zoey likes Beck, it was so clear it actually felt cliché

“Ha! This must be entertaining.” Poppy thought, enjoying the effect of her words in Zoey.

“You’re just a three-digit fool who hasn't learn her place. Why don't you save yourself from humiliation and forget about Beck completely?” The strawberry blonde smiled at Zoey with a friendly smirk. “You know? My day with them yesterday was really good, so I'm feeling generous.” Poppy took her things and walked to be face to face with Zoey, who was getting red from frowning. “I’m forgetting about everything you just said and giving you a second chance. You see? I’m making you a favor! Your welcome, sweetie.” She added with an obviously pretentious voice before going out the cafeteria.

Even though she looked calm and perfect as always, inside Poppy was furious.

How she dares!

What the hell was wrong with that loser? Does she really was that horny for Beck?

“Well… if she was, I couldn't really blame her…” Poppy thought.

She wasn’t lying back at the shelter; she really thought they were cute. The way they looked at the animals, that stupid, goofy smile and congratulations Beck gave the puppies and kittens everytime Piper told them they did a great job. Poppy had a lot of fun doing the commercial, so much so she couldn’t help but be so honestly involved in the making, enjoying every part of it, in fact, Beck was different from how they’re act in Belvoire everytime they both meet.

They weren’t infuriating, insulting, a ranking climber, selfish dude who played the game even better than she expected. Actually, while having lunch, Beck was… fine. A big asshole from time to time but in a funny way. Pretending to be so nice and shit was actually easier than she thought around Beck, she was even glad to have them now at ten spot. Definitely she did a good choice.

But now, Zoey had to come and ruin her everything. And it actually pissed off Poppy badly. Beck didn’t need a personal protector, and Poppy didn’t need competition. She believed it would be easier to have Beck, at first she thought it was because they were trans, she read about it online: most people wouldn't date a trans person because… reasons.

But Belvoire proved to be different: it turns out Beck had a lot of friends, and a lot of girls daydreaming about them as usually they do around Alphas, admiring them secretly while doing exercises in the gym, trying to dance with them in parties… but Beck refused all of them. They were shy, they looked uncomfortable with anyone.

Anyone except Zoey Wade.

The both were really close, always together like Tweedledee and Tweedledum. Before all this, the very same Poppy had seen them hugging, flirting and practicing music together. Still, the strawberry blonde never thought of her as a threatening opponent. But now, Zoey Wade just make herself a target to eliminate, maybe not this time, after all, she did give her a second chance. She was a woman behind her own word.

But… She still had to do something. So she quickly took off her phone, typing a message to the matter at hand.

Poppy:

So here’s the plan

I'll need you to meet me at this address at 10pm sharp

Don't disappoint me, tushi-face 😏

She waited a few seconds, almost a minute. What took them so long?

Tushi-face🤡:

What? Why?

Poppy:

You'll have to trust me 😉

She looked at her screen, waiting for Beck’s answer. What were they doing? Texting Zoey? Her patience was running low when a little buzz alerted her.

Tushi-face🤡:

This can't be good. I'm not going

Were they serious?! Beck was playing with her kindness more than they should. No good at all.

Poppy:

Coward 🙄

Tushi-face🤡:

I'm not a coward

Quick answer. Poppy smirked mischievously. Beck always gave her a lot of information to work with, so transparent it was almost a sin to take advantage of it. Almost.

Poppy:

Prove it 💅🏻

Typing… typing… nothing… typing… typing…

Tushi-face🤡:

I’m going to regret this, am I?

Poppy:

Sending the location now

With a smug smile, Poppy send to Beck the location where the Club Malibu was. It was a exclusive place where only the elite could go. Yes, she said Zoey was temporarily off limits… but she didn't say she wouldn't be taking her chances up.

Tushi-face🤡:

Clubbing? Not my kind of place really

Poppy:

Ew, when you put it like that you sound so boring

Tushi-face 🤡:

Why do you want me there anyways?

Poppy:

All in due time, Farmsville

All in due time 😘

~~X~~

Poppy check the hour in her phone once again, it was almost 10 pm and she was already expecting Beck to show up because of the paranoia. Her foot tapping repeatedly against the floor it was the proof everyone around her needed to know she was nervous. What the hell took them so long? Did Beck decided to ditch her last minute?

Was it Zoey Wade´s fault?

She swore to god she´ll kill the girl after a humiliating and memorable reve…

“Could you calm down already? They already here” She heard Bradley say and immediately look right at the door, where Beck was being escorted to the V.I.P. area just like she asked for.

Damn, the dude knew their ways.

Beck was looking fucking hot, the black scheme really suits them and the way the shirt showed his muscles caused a lot of eyes stick to them as thirsty bastards. To top it all, the song playing in the back and Beck´s expressions were on point to make them look sexy as hell. Feeling a pang of jealousy, Poppy frowned. At what point will this bitches stop looking Beck like a piece of meat? Disgusted, Poppy stood up from her seat, very willing to show all these whores who they were competing against. With a sexy and confident smirk, the strawberry blonde walked towards Beck, sashaying her hips seductively, quickly catching Beck´s gaze.

And she loved it.

She could see the gasp, how the air escaped their lungs and redness taking over their face. Oh how she adored to cause that effects in Beck, all those girls didn’t have a chance. Embracing their strong arm, Poppy smile at them leaning her body against them, drawing a property line.

“Hey there, Tushi-face. I´m glad to see you´re not totally incapable of following directions.” She greeted them, leading the way to the exclusive section.

“Nice to see you too, Poppy.”

“Really? That was all?”

“I have to say… You´re looking fine tonight”

“Yeah, that´s what I thought”

“Is that your attempt at flattery, Farmsville?” She was not going easy on them.

“I´m not stupid enough to try and flatter you. I was just stating facts.” Oh god, that was so cliché she even scoffed. How many times have her hear that before? But something about Beck being the one to say it, turned her perfect pout into a haughty smile. As she was saying, pretending with Beck was easy, it came to her naturally, effortless.

“Maybe you´re more observant than I gave you credit for. I like it. And I have to say, I´m shocked. For once you don’t look completely unfortunate. And here I thought you were a total lost cause.” She joked, smiling just like before while having lunch.

“Wow, back to squared one already with sucking compliments?” Beck smirked, a total funny jerk.

“Try not to push your luck, Farmsville. You don´t want to be on my bad side, again.”

“Really? I don’t see the difference.” They pointed out, testing her. Poppy came closer to them, completely pressing her body against Beck´s arm, letting them feel her heat, her breast, her perfume. The distance between the two was so close that Poppy could feel their fresh breath, her own heart beating fast, excited as she whispered in their ear.

“Stay with me through the night and I promise I´ll give you a taste of the differences…”

Their dilated pupils, the small, imperceptible shiver in their body and that cute yet sexy gesture in their face that appeared after Poppy move away was all she needed to see. She actually liked them…

And she was gonna have them.

-----

#zoey wade #queen b zoey #queen b choices #choices #trans #ftm #poppy x mc #malemc #poppy min sinclair #bea hughes #Beck Hughes #choices stories you play #choices poppy #choices queen b mc #mc x poppy

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stereksecretsanta · 4 years

Text

Merry Christmas, @PrincessaBitchessa!

Hello hello! I got a bunch of the things you asked for and, like my previous two works, this is completely stupid fluffy goodness and I hope it'll put a smile on your face! Merry Christmas!

Read on AO3

*****

Infamnia

The money lasted longer than he thought it would, but not long enough to get out of the dog house of all the debt from medical bills and the mortgage. Stiles didn’t know what to do, how to find himself out of the zeroes and commas and the red ink on the envelopes, until he remembered the letter inside the safe his father set aside before he was killed. He pulled it out from where he’d locked t away, wanting nothing to remind him of what took the better part of two years to even partially come to terms with.

The blue-lined paper still had the frayed edges from where it was torn from a notebook, and the penmanship was as dicey as his father’s ever was.

Stiles I’m so sorry you have to read this letter. But since you are, let me say that whatever happened to me was not your fault. It wasn’t, Stiles, and if you’re blaming yourself I’m going to haunt your scrawny little ass. Don’t. There’s more that I want to say than I can ever put into paper, but this is held securely in the safe specifically because this information is extremely confidential.

If you’re ever in trouble, if you need money, protection, a job, anything, you give the following number a call, and ask for whatever Hale is in charge. You tell them you’re John and Claudia Stilinski’s son. They’ll take care of you. Whatever you find out about me, about what I did and what I accepted, know that it was to protect the town. From what it didn’t want to know about. They owe me a debt, one that I saved for you.

Love you, kid

Dad

Stiles’ bony fingers trembled slightly as he held the paper, mulling over the words as if this was the first time he’d read them. In truth, it was the first time he ever was really taking in the meaning. While he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know what exactly whatever you find out about me, about what I did meant, he would maybe check this out before selling foot pics.

Phone in hand, he tapped a pen on his knee, waiting for someone to pick up. Pick up pick up pick up pick u- THANK YOU.

“You’ve reached Beacon Hills Wildlife Preserve Management, how may I help you?” Secretaries all had this extremely creepy customer service voice that was robotic. Every one of them had the same voice.

What in the flying technicolor fuck was the Beacon Hills Wildlife Preserve number doing in this bizarrely ominous letter? This couldn’t be real. “Uh, could I talk to whoever’s in charge?” He sounded so lame. He could hear himself sounding so incredibly lame.

“May I ask for the purpose of your call so I can route you to the correct person?” The woman’s voice indicated that she could hear his lameness.

“Uh, I got bills I need to pay and I need help, I was told to call the number.”

“I’m sorry, we have no open positions at this ti-“

“Wait, wait wait, can I speak to the, uh, Hale in charge?” He remembered there was a name in the letter, maybe the name would help.

“Transferring your call now.” The voice cut directly to a hold tone. Well, that got him instant results.

The pen tapping his knee increased in speed as he waiting for someone to pick up the phone.

----

“This is completely insane.” Talia Hale rubbed her temples, a headache coming on. The fae wanted to move their court to the Preserve, even though that would not only effectively shut down anyone else trying to use the land. Some true galaxy-brain level genius released no less than five wolpertingers into the forest and now every one of her soldiers was out hunting goddamn flying jackalopes. And now, this.

“We have to do something, though.” Laura stood in the middle of the room, arms folded. “They won’t just stop here. Jerry’s bloodthirsty, and he wants a werewolf with an apple in his mouth on his Christmas dinner table.”

“Not it.” Peter said, because it was the most inappropriate thing that he could possibly say. He felt the eyes of the ladies staring at him, and decided not to acknowledge it. “Would you prefer nose game?”

“Thank you for your contribution.” Unhelpful ass. Talia stood, looking at the map of the preserve on the center table in the room. The lines marked out territories, the fenced off areas for endangered species, paranormally important spots, the Nemeton of course, everything of relevance. And right on their eastern border was a brand new Argent Armory establishment. How they got clearance for that when California had some very impressive gun laws was beyond her. The local lines had been redrawn and somehow those French-blooded fucks had gotten the ordinances to allow a firing range. Which would allow them to have a massive store house of guns and ammunition right there, so they could plan to clean house.

“Can we claim it’ll disturb the birds?” Laura offered. “It must, right?”

“Maybe. But you know the people love their guns. And don’t care about birds.” The phone started ringing across the room. “I’m more worried one of em will gun down a wolpertinger and then I’ll have way too many questions to answer.” The door opened brusquely and a young man strode in, looking cross as ever, throwing the body of a rabbit-quail-deer looking thing on Talia’s desk. “Number three.” He was slightly out of breath, looking at the body like it had personally called him a bitch. “And maybe they won’t shoot wolpertingers, but someone definitely did fucking shoot me.” He yanked off his coat and, yep, that was a bullet wound on his shoulder.

Laura poked it, just to hear him yell at her. Cain instinct.

“Stop it.” Talia gently smacked Laura’s hand. “You see who did it?”

“Y’even need to ask?” He snapped. He watched Gerard Argent smile and wave just a little from his property line, walking back as calm as he pleased at the edge of the woods. The bullet wasn’t wolfsbane, but in a way that was even worse. A wolfsbane bullet would at least do something. It would kill him, yeah, but it was a purpose that had a ‘reasonable’ point. The point of this mundane bullet was just to piss him off. And it was working.

“Will someone answer that phone?” Talia asked, fussing over her wounded boy.

---

Stiles sat in the office of the BHWPM headquarters, with a cup of coffee in his hands. The woman in front of him had introduced herself as Talia Hale, and given that two of the children in the room had the same severe cheekbones, dark hair, and piercing stare like they could see right into his bone marrow, he was fairly certain they were her children. They were attractive in the exact way that terrified him, which was probably not a good thing, because that was definitely his type. “Your father has done a great deal for us over the years, we are happy to help you now in payment for the help he gave you. Is it money you need?” Talia asked, looking over the young man. While not unkempt, there was something in the rakish hair and the unpressed shirt that said he might not be doing so well.

“A job would probably be better, I’ve been trying to get further in the FBI, but-“ He shrugged, not keen to detail his psychiatric history to people he didn’t know. “That’d be more of a help than a one-time get-outta-debt free card.”

“The FBI?” Talia asked, looking at him with new eyes. “Do you know what your father did with us, exactly?”

Stiles was entirely clueless. “I’m....guessing he helped clear drunk hooligans outta the preserve?” Stiles was definitely not the drunk hooligans ever, shut up. “Nah, I’m guessing he helped you hide bodies, smuggle people, and/or doctored police records for Scary One and Scary Two over there, and instead of taking bribes he took it on future favors.” The vibe in this room was way too Corleone for it to not be some undercover operation.

While the woman’s expression didn’t shift even at the comment to her own children, something in her eyes imperceptibly altered. Something a bit like amusement, or interest. “Would you want a job with someone who would do those kinds of things?”

“If my dad thought it was a good thing to do, it must have been for damn good reasons. I’m willing to find out.

“Derek, why don’t you take Stiles to get a proper suit. If he’s running with us, we need him looking the part.” Talia said with a smile. “And get him a proper gun.”

Scary Two: Tall Dark And Terrifying stepped forward and walked Stiles out the door without a word. He could work with that, and hey, any excuse to ogle the boss’ kid, right?

-----------

And Stiles thought those little fuckin wolpertingers were bad.

This was, in fact, infinitely worse.

He sat next to Derek in their little foxhole, only yards away from the Argent stronghold. Apparently Cora, the last piece of the Hale puzzle, and the so-described baby of the family, was inside. Who the fuck steals a baby, Stiles thought. And every one of them was ready to go utterly feral to get it.

Feral being both the operative word and unsettlingly accurate, as it turns out, with his boss lady on all fours and snarling at the people lobbing smoke grenades at them. Derek had his fangs out and everything, but luckily said nothing about how clearly Stiles wanted to climb him like a slightly more angular pine.

Because werewolves. Of course werewolves. Why wouldn’t there be werewolves.

Stiles popped out of the foxhole and nailed one of the Argent soldiers directly in his face, giving a startle to the others behind the line and giving an opportunity.

Stiles didn’t run out first, everyone else could go first and get shot at, he didn’t really want to catch any of them. Instead, he snuck out and around the melee, getting his gangly ass right into their stronghold as Talia was probably ripping someone’s throat out. Ew.

Inside was warm, and a little off-beat. “Hey, Cora?! Where you at!” He hissed, gun drawn in case someone stayed behind. He snuck around, looking for where the baby would be. Make a sound kiddo, come on, something, Uncle Stiles didn’t have a super-sniffer equipped.

After poking around what felt like a century, he finally heard the whine of an itty bitty kid, and lo there the child was, adorable as a button. “Aw, heya kiddo, c’mere.” He picked up the child, humming a little to try and keep them calm as he now had the great joy of having to get out of there. With the kid. He walked the whole back-asswards way around to stay far enough away from gunshots and yelling, because if that baby started crying, both of their asses would be dead! And the werewolves could smell his and Cora’s cocktail of gross or whatever, they could track him down anyway and it would be fine! Cora was fine, he was fine, everything was Gucci.

Back at the headquarters, he started looking around for anything that would help the child, blankets or diapers or at least something. But there wasn’t even a car-seat or anything. Where were they keeping the kid if the whole family was there the whole damn time? Stiles sat in one of the office chairs, baby sleeping soundly on his chest, as he waited for the family to get back.

There was no calm awakening for either, as a foot blasted through the door of the wildlife preserve office, splintering it instead of opening it. The sound of the voice cursing was definitely Derek, and he busted it down properly, a slight girl’s arm over his shoulder and a quart or so of blood apiece on everyone.

“Stiles, where the fuck did you go, we-“ Derek halted his scolding when he looked at him.

“Shhhhh, you’ll wake Cora up!” Stiles hissed.

Derek blinked those stupid pretty eyes as he looked truly lost for words. “Stiles.”

“Yeah?”

“Where did you get a baby?”

“Whaddaya mean? In the stronghold, where you all said-“

“This is Cora.” He said, pointing to the unconscious woman he dragged in.

Oh. Baby of the family meant. Youngest sibling not. Actual infant. Huh.

Huh.

So then who exactly was he holding???

“Who the fuck steals a baby?” Peter asked, pointing at the kidnapper.

Stiles looked at the child like it had turned into a 30 megaton nuke.

Talia sighed. “Stiles.”

“Yes’m.”

“....Laura, go get some formula and diapers. I’ll....ask around about the baby.”

----

Stiles didn’t get into the family business to actually start a family. This was not his intention in the slightest. But here he was, singing a very off-key Jurassic Park theme song he composed himself to a tiny baby girl he decided to call Izzy, after his suggestions of Katie, Smelborp, Stormageddon, Cirilla, and Dreamsmasher were all shot down.

Derek walked in, and stood next to Stiles, hands out, offering to take the kiddo. Derek shouldn’t be allowed to dress down ever in Stiles’ presence, because the thin tee and the sweatpants were doing far too many good things for him. Too much was on display.

“No. Mine. Go kidnap your own.”

Derek exhaled, which was as close as Stiles ever got to a laugh from him. “C’mon, you’re dead on your feet, you adrenaline crashed hours ago, and the kid’s not falling asleep anytime soon. Give her over, alright?”

“Mine.”

“I get it, I get it, you like the kid. But what happens when you get attached and we have to hand the kid back over?” Derek folded his arms, and it....hhough he shouldn’t be allowed to fold his arms either, what were those arms even??? It wasn’t fair. Stupid werewolf whatever magic bullshit.

“Give her back?” Stiles asked, offended by the suggestion. No, they were not giving Isabel back, no no no, not happening.

“Yes, give her back. Do you think you can just keep her here forever? The Argents might burn the whole preserve down if this is one of their daughters. You don’t have a birth certificate for her, even.”

“Shhhhhh stop saying sense words.”

Derek slipped his arms in and yoinked the baby before Stiles could react, but as soon as the baby was nestled against him, Stiles didn’t have the heart. Derek looked hot as hell all the time, but that, with the light from the lamp bouncing off of his face, and even a smile? He was beautiful. “There, was that so hard?”

“Yes. Give her back.” But Stiles wasn’t trying to take her back, he knew in a battle of strength he wasn’t going to win that. Unless it was strength of will, that he could go toe-to-toe with any of them. Stiles sat in one of the chairs, ready for a long night ahead of him, watching Derek pace softly in socked feet around the room.

With Izzy settled in a makeshift crib, Derek sat in another chair, rubbing his eyes that were still dusted with gunpowder and smoke from the fight. Cora was up and running again, talking things over with Talia and Laura, his job was to watch the baby. And Stiles, though they came as a joint package.

Stiles fiddled with a fraying end of the chair. Ever since he joined the family months ago, he didn’t ask any of the specifics of what his father did, but he was curious. “You know what my dad did, exactly, to get this kind of treatment for me?”

Derek looked up. “You sure you want to know?”

“Yes.” Stiles had stolen a baby he wasn’t exactly king of the moral high ground that day.

Derek sighed, thin mouth pressed so tight it was almost one dimensional. But something in his mind must have won out, that Stiles deserved to know, so he told. About how he was fifteen, with a girlfriend, and given some frankly terrible advice from Peter, that ended up getting her in a bad way, and Derek had to snap her neck. It was a mercy kill, but that was a dead girl’s body, and any whiff of that reaching the public would ruin Derek’s life forever.

Talia and Claudia had been friends for years, so when Talia asked for John to come to the preserve, no lights no sirens, for a favor, she made a leap of faith that John wouldn’t betray her family. But he didn’t. John fixed the autopsy results to show she was hit by a car, fixed everything up so she was mourned by her family in the normal way for a tragic death, and no one was the wiser that Derek had killed her.

Stiles was silent for a long time after that. Derek thought he’d fallen asleep, but finally Stiles spoke. “He did the right thing. He warned me, you know, that he did and accepted some things I might not like. But that’s....that’s not what happened.” They looked at each other for a moment, the quiet intimacy of secrets laid bare broken by the sound of a stirring baby.

“Aw c’mon Izzy, please just sleeeeep.....be a good lil Mafia princess for me, huh?” Stiles begged, getting up.

“We’re not the Mafia!” Derek objected.

“You wear suits, you talk about the family business, you run a front organization to alter cashflow, just cause you’re wolves doesn’t make you not-Mafia.”

----

“She’s a spark.” Talia announced to the collected family, Izzy playing with the square in Derek’s suit pocket.

“Shiiiiit, where’d they get one of those?” Peter asked, side-eyeing the little one. Someone snapped at him about his language choices, but it didn’t matter, as he would continue to do what he wanted. Stiles didn’t care for Peter too much in general, but after hearing what happened with Derek and Paige, he was not exactly feeling it.

“Explanation for the newbie?” Stiles asked with a raised hand.

“Spark, you know, magical talent. Some channel it into Druidism, some channel it in other magical schools of thought, that kind of thing. They become our emissaries, or...if the Argents raise one up from the ground, a devastating weapon.” Laura explained, looking at Isabel with a look more concerned and less suspicious.

“Oh, you mean like this?” Stiles snapped both sets of fingers, and a shot of electricity arced from one thumb to the other.

Every wolf in the room stared at him in utter silence for a solid ten seconds of uncomfortable quiet.

“Stiles.” Derek ventured the conversation.

“Yeah.”

“Why didn’t you tell us you could do that.”

“Didn’t ask.”

“Are you always this- never mind I know you are.” Derek shook his head.

Stiles grinned at being so well known, but the conversation was too serious for many jokes. “We’re not giving the her back to those unhinged fu- people, are we? She’s like me. Mine.”

“Well. That depends. If she was born to one of them, they are their child.” Talia wouldn’t like that if it were the case. “But, the fact that the police haven’t knocked on our door tells me that either they think we’ll kill the kid if they do, or they have no better right to her than anyone else. I think it’s the latter. However, they’ll bring their whole force against us to get her back. If we had John-”

Stiles froze at the mention of his father’s name, but said nothing more.

“If we had John, we would definitely be able to sort her paperwork out. But we don’t. We need to find a new contact in the police that can arrange us those papers. Until we get that, Derek and Stiles, I want you both to take her into the vault with everything you need to last a week with her. You’ll be safe there. Any questions?”

Stiles raised his hand again. “Is there wi-fi in the vault?”

---

There was no wi-fi in the vault.

There was also no cell service either, which meant no Netflix, which meant no video games, no Youtube, nothing to amuse him. And it was only two days in. He had nothing. Except for, of course, annoying Derek. At least Derek was very generous in this.

“Twenty questions.”

“No.”

“I’m thinking of....a noun.”

“No.”

By four days, Stiles had run out of annoyances and had drifted into just mindlessly babbling at Izzy, while Derek’s forehead wrinkles got worse and worse with every minute that his brain cells slipped away.

On the sixth day, Derek finally decided to play ball. Either Stiles had worn him down enough, or maybe the two bottles of whiskey were going to help him cope.

“Truth or dare?” Stiles offered, smile with as he took the offered booze.

“Only because I don’t have a deck of cards. As a warning, never play Laura in King’s Cup, she has never lost a game and given me alcohol poisoning three times.”

“How does the whiskey even work on you, Mr. Healsalot.”

“Is Healsalot the best you can do?”

“Shut up.”

“It’s actually a bit of halite. Disables werewolf abilities while in close proximity, if something happens I toss it away as quick as possible and I’m good in, I’d say a minute or so with this level of exposure. Cora had a couple day’s worth, which is why she was knocked out.”

“Gotcha.” At least it made as much sense as anything else these weirdo furries got up to. Once each had downed a respectable amount of alcohol, they could begin. “Alright, truth or dare, big guy.”

“Dare.”

“Dare you toooooo.....fuck never mind there’s nothing fun to dare you with in here. These are all your family’s valuables and shit how am I supposed to dare you to dress up in Auntie Myrtle’s wedding dress and sing Poker Face on video for my own personal blackmail?”

“Truth, then.”

“You like guys?”

Derek stared at the directness of the question. “Subtle, aren’t we?”

“Literally never.”

“Okay. Sometimes.” Stiles didn’t look happy about the answer. “Why did you steal the baby?”

“I thought she was Cora!”

“You thought they wouldn’t have any sort of defenses around the hostage they’d taken from the werewolf family that they were fighting a turf war with?!”

“Shhhhhhh it’s fine it’s fine it all worked out right?”

“Did it? We’re hiding in a vault, that you have not stopped bitching about once since we came in here, and we might be giving her back, and even if we don’t, who’s going to take care of her?”

“Me.”

“You.”

“Moi. Yo. Io. You want it in any other language?”

“Polish?”

“Fuck you.”

“You wish.” Derek had something of a grin as he took another shot.

“Do you wish you could fuck me?” Stiles was getting bolder a couple shots in.

Derek took a moment to answer. “Sometimes.” Vague bastard.

“Oh? Like when?”

“Ah ah ah, my turn.” Derek took a swig, forgetting the dainty shot glass. “How many moles you got?”

“You wanna count em up?”

“Not an answer.”

“Over a hundred.”

Derek nodded, considering this thought as carefully as someone half-drunk really can. “Interesting.”

“Where do your eyebrows go when you shift?”

“How the fuck am I supposed to answer that question?”

“It’s your body, dude! How am I supposed to know how many moles I got when you don’t know where your friggin eyebrows go?!?!” Stiles’ limbs flailed as he gesticulated his exasperation.

“You’re gonna wake Izzy.” Derek warned. The baby was in another room of the vault so she could sleep while the adults could have their last-day-of-vaulting fun.

“Alright alr- wait, you called her Izzy.”

“No I didn’t.”

“Yeeeeeeees, yes you did you called her Izzy instead of the baby. You like her.”

“Shhh.”

“New question: do you like Isabel Stilinski-Hale, the new baby of the family?”

Derek chuckled, man he really must be drunk. “We’re hyphenating?”

“I found her so I get first billing, but like y’all took me in so like, I guess you can join. Whatever.”

“Yes, I like the kid. She’s pretty good for a baby. Only projectile vomited on me twice. That’s not bad.”

“She’s the best kid.”

“Do you really think you’re in a good place to adopt her right now in your life?”

“Nooooo stop with the serious questions.” Stiles whined. “Serious ones aren’t fun let’s get back to the flirty ones those were fun.”

“It’s my question.” Derek shrugged.

“If I stole you as a kid I’d name you Moodkiller the Great.”

“Is ‘the Great’ my last name or is ‘the’ my middle name, like Kermit.”

“God you’re such a fucking nerd.”

“You know, no, I’m not in like the...perfect spot. But who IS when they get a kid? And I got the magic thing, and she does, so like....I dunno, she’s got no one else, probably, so.....wouldn’t you guys help me?” Stiles’ big dark eyes looked so beautiful in the scant light of the vault. Derek’s kryptonite.

“Of course we would, don’t be stupid.” Derek mumbled, looking away.

“.....Isabel Stilinski-Haaaale you’re gonna come home with uuuuuuus.” Stiles grinned, getting his own way.

“Whose turn is it?” Derek asked, not sure where the game had gone.

“Mmmmmine. I think. Maybe. Does it matter?”

“Guess not.”

Stiles paused for a second, looking at the distance between them on the floor, the thought process unfolding before Derek’s eyes as he saw Stiles decide exactly how to ambulate himself closer. With a thud, Stiles flopped on top of him and they fell flat on the floor.

“Ow.”

“Oh shut up that didn’t hurt, you big baby.” Stiles wasn’t going to let Derek get another word in, pressing his mouth against his, clumsy and off-center and everything bizarrely fitting together despite everything.

Derek only let Stiles win that for a half a second, before pinning Stiles down to the floor himself.

----

Stiles’ hangover next day was legendary. The wakeup screaming baby was violence to his ears and Derek was disgustingly FINE and Stiles hated him so much except for the fact that he still wanted to make out with his stupid face. Once he got up off the floor maybe. Everything hurt. Ow.

“C’mon, dumbass, Mom and Laura showed up outside, they said we got the kiddo and gotta go fill out the paperwork at the station. Gotta tell the world she’s your girl.”

“Yeah.” Stiles mumbled a little, looking up at Derek with the baby on his hip. “Mine.”

#PrincessaBitchessa #stereksanta19 #*fics19 #*gifts19

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wolfpawn · 5 years

Text

I Hate You, I Love You Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Chapter Summary - Tom finally speaks with Danielle properly for the first time in months, but it does not end how he expected when she verbally castrates him.

Previous Chapter

Rating - Mature (some chapters contain smut)

Triggers - references to Tom Hiddleston’s work with the #MeToo Movement. That chapter will be tagged accordingly.

authors Note - I have been working on this for the last 3 years, it is currently 180+ chapters long. This will be updated daily, so long as I can get time to do so, obviously.

Mac Tíre is pronounced Mac tier, it is the Irish for wolf and means son of the earth.

If you wish to be tagged, please let me know.

tags: @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @jessibelle-nerdy-mum @nonsensicalobsessions

“Mum.” He called after her, but the older woman did not respond. It was then he noticed Mac Tíre, Elle’s German Sheppard cross dog looking at him from across the garden. “Hey, Mac.” He smiled. It was actually him who had got her the dog, it was a scraggly stray pup that had shown up at a set he was working on that was in bad shape, and since Elle’s dad had been a veterinarian, he thought she could help it. Mac was a bit weedy looking still, not as well built as other German Sheppard’s, but he had a good sheen to his coat and was as fit as a fiddle, joining Elle when she went jogging or cycling in the woods nearby.

Mac eyed him for a moment; usually the dog would make straight for him when he acknowledged the canine, seemingly remembering who had helped save him, but as though knowing what the women had been talking about, Mac rose to his feet and trotted to the house, scratching once at the door before it was opened to let him in.

“Even the bloody dog hates me,” Tom mumbled walking to the door, knowing it was better to deal with everything now. “Mum.” He looked into Elle’s kitchen. He could hear the shower on upstairs. “Mum, I’m sorry.” Diana gave an ‘hmm’ in response. “I’m jetlagged and hungry, and to be honest, jealous, that you have spent the day here and not with me.”

“And I am hurt that you thought going to the beach and making a holy show of yourself rather than spending time with your family was a better use of your time Thomas. I am tired of having people ask me are you having some sort of early midlife crisis to say you are going to teenager concerts looking like a chaperone rather than a partner of someone there, and I am embarrassed at how you have treated someone this family holds dear in the manner you have of late.”

“Wait, what, who?”

“Who do you think?”

“Mum, I don’t…”

“What is the real reason you did not have Danielle collect you today, as she has done for four and a half years, and why have you not spoken to her once since Christmas, not once. What did she do to deserve that?”

“Wait, I have…”

“When? Today perhaps.” Tom did not respond, he had not realised it was true. He used tag funny pictures to Elle on his private Facebook, or send her some training tips he got from some trainer if he thought they were beneficial to her, but of late, he had not even looked at her page, he had no idea what was going on in her life. “I really do not know what to say to you Thomas, is all of this worth it, to gain fame and perhaps notoriety, is it worth it when you cost yourself people who care about you as a person?”

“I have to take the next step, get as big as I can.”

“Well, when Hollywood bores of you, I hope those who care about you that are not family are still there my boy because there will be someone new, someone fresh; we all age, and there are always people ready to take our place. Elle cares for you; she is willing to put herself out selflessly for you. She brought food to your home so that you could come home from a shoot, or a long flight and have something ready that is good and filling, she got everything you wanted from London so you could rest tomorrow, and she did not care if you even knew about it being her that did it, after eight months of no contact, she still did it.” Diana’s anger seemed to have dissipated, but in its wake, was a sadness and cold truth that terrified Tom, eating at the insecurities he had that he had not voiced himself. Diana placed the containers of food she had organised for Elle on the counter and walked out of the house, leaving Tom to stew on her words.

When Elle came downstairs, she was tying her hair back so that she could be ready for work. She paused when she saw Tom in her kitchen looking at her, looking then to the containers and back to him.

“Mum sorted them.” He pointed to the food.

Elle gave a forced smile and nodded slightly before noticing the dog. “Mac Tíre, get your hairy ass outside now, you know you can’t stay in when I’m working.” She scolded. Mac did not move. She opened the back door. “Out.” Mac rose to his feet and eyed her for a moment, then Tom, then back at her. “It’s only Tom, come on, out you go.” Mac gave the actor one last apprehensive look and trotted out the door. “Diana will feed you at eight.” She stated, closing the door. There was a moment of her and Tom looking at one another after she locked it.

“You know he can’t understand you right?”

“He seems to get the hint, which is more than can be said for many humans.” She responded.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry I have clearly offended you in some manner.” Elle cocked her brow and pursed her lips. “I am sorry I have not spoken to you in a long time or bothered to contact you and check on you, but in my defence, you weren’t exactly running to contact me either.”

Danielle started counting on fingers. “Your birthday, I sent you a ridiculous picture and a big not with it, Patrick’s day I sent a funny picture, April Fools, I sent a funny joke, St George’s Day I sent a mocking text, the day of the Presidential dinner, the MET Gala, the Emmy nomination, all top of my head examples, need I continue?”

“I didn’t get half of them.”

“I bet you didn’t, and by half, I bet you mean everything since the day before the MET, right?”

“You don’t get to say anything, you don’t even know her.”

“You’re right, I don’t, because when she was here, I was not worthy of introductions, was I?”

“You could have come over.”

“I could, but the glut of paps and the security got in the way, I was told I was not allowed, that it was private property, in fact, my favourite part was when they called the police, but thankfully it was Joanne and Mike that got called out, who know I actually live next door.”

“You never said…”

“But I did, but you clearly you didn’t get the message, I wonder why. Tell me, does she scan all your texts, or is it just me she blocked.”

“What, that ridiculous.”

Danielle took out her phone and brought up his number before pressing the call button.

“We’re sorry, but you are not able to be connected to this number, please hang up and try again.” The monotone recording played.

“So can I ask, is it just me out of your female friends that you have not heard from of late?”

“She hasn’t been alone with my…”

“Have you gone to the bathroom, the shower, the gym, even left your computer on?” She challenged, Tom bit his lips together. “I guess you know the answer to that too. Have a nice day Tom; I am off to actually do something other than open your eyes for you. Get some rest for yourself before you go back to the circus.”

“Circus?”

“GQ, Esquire, Time Magazine, Forbes, they are where you want to get a front page, they are prestigious, but you, you have been plastered on the front of the National Enquirer Tom, as the bit on the side to the arm candy, that’s hardly a prestigious publication.”

“You always mock tabloids and magazines, and here you are reading them.”

“They are in front of me, plastering every shelf when I enter Tesco’s and Sainsbury’s Tom, I don’t need to read them, I can see headline after headline, picture after mortifying picture; speaking of which, please tell me that Fourth of July t-shirt was you taking the piss out of yourself, or a dare, or a bet you lost, please tell me you did not do that willingly of sound mind.”

“You wouldn’t…”

“Jesus, it wasn’t. That is so embarrassing, I am actually so mortified on your behalf, before I was cringing, but that, that actually made my insides hurt, I didn’t know should I laugh or cry for you, and to be honest, thinking back, I still don’t.”

“It’s not your place…”

“But you made it my place, me and every last person you whored yourself on the cover of those publications to. Those weren’t pictures taken without consent Tom; they are proper staged photo’s; that is the notable thing here.”

“Whored?”

“Well, that may be a bit harsh, whores tend to realise they are getting fucked and get paid for their work, I hope she gives you a hefty allowance of her earnings.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” He snarled viciously.

“Don’t you think it is weird, you used get spotted by fans wherever you went, but it was always fairly anonymous, here, LA, New York, everywhere you went; but now, everywhere you go, everywhere you are, there are paps, and a tonne of them.”

“That’s the business, you wouldn’t understand.”

“But they were not at your mothers before, they were not hounding your sisters, your niece, that one gets me the worst, she is five years old Tom, she is not famous, she does not want that, but then again, I doubt you or ‘fame hungry Barbie’ checked with that.”

“Sarah did not say anything.”

“Like she had a fucking choice, you didn’t warn her in advance, did you?” She challenged, her voice raised.

“You’re just fucking jealous, that’s all that’s wrong with you, jealous that for once, you were not the centre of my family’s life.” He bellowed back.

Danielle had a few different laughs, her snigger when she knew she shouldn’t, her snide one, for when she and Emma would bitch whatever co-star Emma had that was only on a production for reasons other than her acting ability, her one for when she wanted to laugh more, but she was embarrassed to do so in front of those she didn’t really know, and the one she had when she found something so hilarious, propriety be damned, she would erupt into laughter. Tom’s statement was met with the last one. Danielle erupted in laughter so strong; she went red in the face. “That…jealous…” She took a deep breath before standing straight again. “I do not envy you, Thomas, I pity you, so fucking much it actually is beyond words. I mean, what do you two even talk about, does she know anything about Yeats, Shakespeare, Wilde, hell even Tolkien? She will get her next album material or her next piece of boy meat, and you will be a pariah, to both decent women and good productions, and if you don’t believe me, look at her previous conquests, the guy from One Direction, where is he now, trying to get an album together apparently, Gyllenhaal, he practically has to freeze his ass off for a role and his depiction was seen as mediocre, and that guy from Twilight, is he even making movies now? And as for her bickering, let me just say this Tom, I’ve read that West and Kardashian are not supposed to be the greatest people alive, or Perry, or Bieber, or whoever else she is pissed off with this week to sell music, but no one who is nice has that many people arguing with them. She is accomplished, no one can take that from her, but you are going to be left in her wake, another ‘boyfriend of Taylor Swift’ and not your own man, and you will have that tattooed on your resume for as long as you act, are you really okay with that? Become the Tom I know, would not have been.”

“You mean the Tom you knew.” Tom glared at her, hating her for voicing what Benedict, Chris and Luke had clearly been hinting when they were introduced to Taylor.

Danielle let his words linger for a moment, kissing her lips and nodding. “You’re right.” She conceded. “I don’t know this shitbag in front of me, and to be honest, I don’t fucking want to.” She shrugged. “Get out of my house, and when this shit fest hits the fan, if the real Tom Hiddleston is in there, let him know I will probably still be here, and I will accept his apology, but not yours, you are nothing more than some ‘Taylor-trash’.” She turned and left, not waiting for him to say anymore.

#Chapter 3 #I hate you I love you #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fic

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hearteyes-for-killmonger · 5 years

Text

Part 13: Reversal

It could've been the fact that the bras were sensible and ordinary like something you'd buy from Dillard's, but something told you this store wasn't the one. "Excuse me, um, Pam? What do you think of this," you squint raising a full-cupped champagne pink satin bra to the female employee. She tosses her orangish hair, studying the the underwire.

"Foooor..?"

"A special night," you smile, "Not saying that anything is going to happen, but if it does.." you pause realizing how hopeful you sound. "I'm just trying to prepare myself for the possibility that maybe..," you chuckle, "Ughh, neverm-"

"Oh hun, if you're this shy about sex, you're not ready. Save it for your honeymoon and dodge the bullet.. while ya still can," she whispers and her southern accent is so thick you can hear the yeehaw. It's slower than you're used to.

"Honeymoon," you scoff, "Yeah sure, as soon as I locate a decent male who's faithful and actually wants a relationship." She nods and you comtinue, "They're like unicorns. My best friend is the closest thing to it, but our relationship is confusing and there's a lot of people involved. He's honest about it, but still. I need what I need.

"You're a one horse girl," she nods.

"Exactly! And he's so irritating, petty, and bossy, not to mention immature, and a habitual smartass. He's literally an asshole," you scowl recounting the things he's done to piss you off. "He's infuriating," you seethe before releasing the most annoyingly hopeless sigh. "...I think I love him."

"Sounds like my second husband," she mutters, lost in thought. Her light blue eyes peer off as if recalling an pleasant moment from the past. "Ralph. Hell on earth to live with but when he passed, I missed that old bastard.

"I'm sorry," you say respectfully lowering your head to offer your condolences.

"Don't be," she leans in, "I poisoned him. Snake cheated on me with my sister, Debbie. Still, other than the infidelity and the mess he left through the house, he was a peach." You nod, unsure of how to respond and she writes her name and number on a card. "You know what, honey, take my info and keep in touch. I hope this man doesn't cheat on you like Ralph did me, but if anything should happen.. You call Pamela. We'll make it look like an accident," she winks, tapping your chin like a white auntie.

You've yet to buy anything. You aren't in a shopping mood and as you wander through various stores, feelings up fabrics.. it all looks like a blur of color. Suddenly, you spot a couple of black women walking together with large bags in their hands. They seem to be your age and they're dressed in hip, trendy styles. An idea hits you and immediately your feet move in their direction.

"Hi... i'm sorry this is like really weird, but would you two mind lending me some fashion advice since you two look stunning?" You're still not willing to let Erik convince you that you're tacky. You simply don't go the extra mile, choosing comfort and simplicity. Theres a difference.

"Umm.. sure," the one with the top knot stares quizzically while the one with the short twists is visibly flattered by your comment. "We can help.. what's your budget look like," Top Knot asks and you know Erik is good for whatever you spend, but you still want to spend reasonably. He's not an ATM and if it was your money.. tuh. "I need several outfits including shoes and lingerie and they need to look amazing. I will splurge on the cost if it's worth it." You pull out his card and their eyes light up. "That's a black card," the one with short twists points, stating the obvious.

"It's my friend's. He wants me to look nice," you say returning the card to where you had it.

"Friend.. Right. Why does this friend want you to buy lingerie," Twists asks, her expression knowing. You nod knowing that they have you pegged. "Issa sugar daddy," Top Knot screeches.

For a second you go mute, and though you don't want to say too much about the nature of your relationship, you feel the need to explain yourself. "He's not my sugar daddy! We do have an arrangement, but it's not--"

"Don't care," Twists shrugs, "It's not that deep. You want the lingerie?" It was that simple.

From store to store and from floor to floor, you're pulled and pushed through the mall by these two women who are having the time of their lives, it seems, playing dress up with you as the living doll. You've been stripped down and redressed with clothes of all dollar points thrown at you more times than you care to count! By this time, you've learned that their names are Ava and Toni and they've been friends for a year. They're also really nice, but that could be because of the money.. Maybe, maybe not.. Food at the Japanese Grill is on you regardless as a thank you.

"So more on the sugar daddy," Ava, the topknot, prods once you all get your food.

"He's not my sugar daddy! ..Honestly, I feel like we're on the verge of something. I like him.. a lot. I know he likes me. Not exclusively, but he does."

"So he's disloyal," she asks, "Commitment issues?"

"Not really. He's honest about everything he does, it's in the open. I knew it before we started anything."

"What's the issue then, like, why are you hesitant," Toni asks, gesturing to the area surrounding you.

"Fear. Insecurity. Stupidity," you shrug. The list goes on. "Although the longer I'm around him the more I see that he can be trusted. It's irrational what I'm doing, but it's like I can't stop. I withdraw almost every time he comes near me."

"You need to stop otherthinking yourself out of dick and let him bless you is what it sounds like. Do you not want him," Ava asks.

"No, I do. I really do," you admit. "I literally think about it- HIM all the time." Oh God.. they smile catching your faux pas. Now you have to explain again. "...If you saw him you'd understand."

"Do you have a picture," Toni grins. You remember the photo you snapped when he was peacefully asleep in his bed.

"Damn," Toni takes the phone, staring closely. "Yeah you TRIPPIN trippin. Give him to me," Ava says grabbing the phone. It's attack of the thirst.

"He looks better in person," you grin.

"He got friends? Shid, keep in touch, we want an update."

After a peptalk, they saved your number and when you parted ways, you knew you were going back to that hotel room equipped with the tools that would make Erik eat his heart out.. and maybe something else too, crossing your fingers.

---

"Stop here and park behind this building," Erik muttered, gesturing with his chin to an abandoned property that Rell pulled into and parked the car behind.

"What now," Rell sighed turning off the car.

"You keep an eye out for activity. We keep contact with Sawyer and wait till sundown to light the place up. Which RV did he say the target was in," Erik groaned reclining in his chair. He was all too happy to catch up on some much needed rest.

"He couldn't get close enough to tell without blowing his cover."

Erik sighed, rubbing his face down to his beard in irritation. Did he have to think of everything? "Tell Sawyer to put on a fuckin headband, get a dog, and chase it into the RV park. Then scope the place and if he looks suspicious.. say he's searching for his lost dog, Shakespeare or some stupid shit. White people are weird, they do questionable shit all the time. They'll believe it because they're used to it."

"...Kill? That's the dumbest plan you've ever come up with, bruh. You gone send a yankee and an innocent animal into a den of redneck hell to get shot up like a junkie."

"..the fuck up," Erik gritted staring Rell down. "Tell him do it."

Sundown came too soon ending Erik's rest, but he opened his eyes ready to go with more energy. According to Sawyer, the target was in the second to last RV across from the wooden cross sprouting from the ground across the field. Sawyer had watched the park for hours and the man hadn't left. There was barking in the background.

"I can't believe that stupid shit worked," Rell mumbled shaking his head, incredulous.

"It's 'cause you black, Rell. We don't have the luxury of ignorance when it comes to our safety. Suspicion is engraved in us as a survival reflex... Let's move in."

The car returned to the road. Only Erik could convince Rell to drive straight through the small park. Rell was scared, but Erik wished a milk faced bitch would try to shoot at him. It'd be the last thing they did. "Let's do this," Erik whispered walking off toward the specified RV. He knocked on the door like a neighbor asking for sugar would. No answer came. He tried to peer inside the windows. No luck, but Sawyer said he was in there.

Something didn't sit right. It was too quiet. His spidey senses were tingling. He put his ear to the door and listening carefully. Tick tick tick tick. Speeding toward the car, he jumped in. "LET'S GO," he yelled slamming the door and looking back toward the exit. Rell swerved around almost flipping the car on its side to get out of the park.

They barely escaped. The specified RV exploded and in a chain reaction, every trailer exploded. The entire park was on fire when they left the area. It was a setup. Erik was pissed. He hit the dashboard with almost enough strength to send the airbag flying. He was angry at himself and angrier at the situation. How could he have fucked that up so badly? It didn't make sense... and then suddenly.. it did. He didn't blink, pulling together the pieces.

"Who sent Sawyer," Erik asked cooly looking ahead.

"What you mean? We crossed paths. Sawyer is CIA.The target killed two CIA agents in a military grade weapons trade gone bad, they sent Sawyer to kill him."

"But you don't have a name," Erik asked.

"Yeah, wait.. He was brought in by... Shit...," Rell paused. "FUCK!"

Erik nodded, understanding. Rell had been fed a lie from Sawyer, assuming it to be the truth. It still wasn't clear how, but Sawyer was likely involved with the target.. and somehow also able to get in contact with Rell.

"I didn't know, I swear," Rell rushes, eyes wide, "Kill, nigga I wouldn't do you dirty." Erik nodded before whipping his gun and shooting him twice in the temple causing the car to spiral. He guided the car letting it crash so that he could climb out leaving Rell's body behind. Grabbing his weapons, he shook off the impact and began running at top speed in the direction of another city.

"Guess we'll never know," he sighed as he stuck to the shadows. He was stealthy and knew how to stay out of the open, running where darkness and shadows were the heaviest. He ran like a nigga waiting to be flashed in Get Out.. from the explosive scene in the small town of Vidor to Beaumont to China about 25 miles out before calling up an uber to get him back to Houston.

---

Erik hadn't called so you texted him to see if he was doing okay and he texted that he was held up with work, but he was doing fine and not to wait up. That meant no sexy time and no lingerie tonight. You decided you'd ask him about how things went with his job whenever he returned and in the meantime, you hung up your new outfits, put away your shoes, and folded your lingerie into a drawer. You used your own card to go to one of the restaurants downstairs to order some dessert before retiring to the room and making a cup of coffee. It felt good to hang with Erik all morning and shop all day and then go to dinner with people you didn't work with. You'd been missing friendship, or at least the illusion of it, in your life. But today those two girls.. Ava and Toni.. and even Pamela from earlier.. they provided that sought after feeling... A feeling of not being alone in the world. You look to your phone seeing two new messages from two unknown numbers.

Hey girl it's Ava

Here's my number - Toni

Sitting on the bed with your ridiculously large slice of rich triple chocolate cake, you reply casually while flipping through channels watching whatever's on. You flip past the news reports of a large explosion in Vidor, Texas in favor of watching the Law & Order reruns, Riverdale, etc. It's no firestick, but you are chilling in a large bed in a nice hotel in Houston so there's really no need to complain. With that said, you feel a little restless. You text Erik again.

You: I went shopping like you suggested. Made two potential non-nigga friends. They helped me shop.

His reply is immediate and it surprises you.

Erik: Be safe. Don't go anywhere alone with them or alone period.

Erik: Happy for you.

Smiling, you hit him back.

You: I'm in the room eating cake.

To your shock, he calls.

---

Erik got to the hotel quicker than he thought he would, seeing red everywhere he looked.. Angry at himself, the situation, Rell.. He'd lost time, resources, his cleanup man, the target's trail.. and now he had two colonizers to locate and kill. His pride made him refuse to accept defeat. No. He'd find both of them eventually. He had to. This was his money and reputation on the line. He was so angry at the way things played out that he could kill and everyone who made eye contact with him in the hotel lobby made him wanna snap. Evil was on his mind and everyone around him looked like an enemy, except for Y/N. She'd kept texting him through the day to check on him and her presence was a constant reminder that he couldn't snap and go chasing after the targets for weeks like a relentless bloodhound. Not when he had her to take care of. Since he'd met her he'd tried to stay close to her. That's why Rell was such a huge help when he'd put his tracker skills to work or hire one. But now he was dead.

He responded to Y/N's texts ultimately calling her and of course they got into it. It seemed so silly.. the shit they argued about. Inconsequential, petty, pointless, and lighthearted. Though she was actually pissing him off a little, he was feeling a shift in his mood as if the darkness was lifting. Every time she spoke, he felt himself get lighter. He liked arguing with her. It was fun.

"Babygirl, why the fuck would you eat cake when you're about to sleep? Does that make any goddamn sense to you?" He cut off her response, "Hush. Do you know that when you eat a lot of sugar before bed, your blood sugar spikes and then crashes while your body releases hormones to try and bring the levels back under control?The swing in hormones and blood sugar levels can fuck up your sleep or even give you nightmares so go buy some water bottles and drink two."

"Not at $3.50 for one regular sized bottle," she laughed. "This hotel can get over on some other patron. I will walk to a Walgreens or CVS if I have to.. but tomorrow."

"Biiitch...," he dragged and he could see her raise your eyebrow through the phone. He wanted to see her reaction in person. He never used that word with her.

"Excuse you? You wanna run that by me again," she asked and he grinned feeling almost giddy. He hid the humor in his voice.

"Just buy the damn water and drink it, Y/N. I will give you ten dollars.. cheap muhfucka.."

"It's the principle," she stressed. "I could buy a 24-pack of water for about $10."

"BUY THE FUCKIN WATER," he yelled and she hung up on him. She hung up. She knew how much that irritated him. But it was cool. He turned around at the elevator to head to the gift shop. He had something for her.

---

Not fifteen minutes later do you hear the door click and see Erik storm in. He throws three water bottles at you in the bed and you flinch, yelling at him for almost knocking the last half of your cake off your lap and all over the bed.

He grabs the plastic container from you, closing it and snatches the covers from your legs jerking you out of the bed and across his lap, face up, where he cradles you like an infant. Cracking open one of the waters, he tilts the bottle to your lips wetting your chin and your grey t-shirt in the process. "Drink," he orders forcefully, his eyes on your face as you glare up at him.

"Get that out my face," you fight, pushing the water bottle in a move that soaks you and it's cold as the air hits it. He pushes the bottle back to your mouth holding it firmly where you can't move without it following.

"Drink or drown," he says holding your head still. With much irritation you're forced to drink until the bottle is empty and your stomach swells. "Good girl," he says opening the next one, "Open up." He forces your head back so that you chug the bottle gulp by gulp until it's empty. "You gone sleep well tonight because of me," he gloats.

"Fuck you," you grunt before the final bottle is attacking your face. Once you're free, you pull off your soaked shirt and put it in a bag meant for your used clothes. He snatches your leftover cake from the bed and from the corner of your eye you see him plop down and dig into it like he didn't just assault you for doing the exact same thing.

"I already have issues sleeping," he says with a mouthful of chocolate, reading your mind. "Nice bra," he adds.

"Shut up," you gripe climbing back into the bed with a different shirt on to lay down.

"Show me what you bought."

"You don't deserve to see it tonight. I might let you see tomorrow." Snuggling comfortably into your pillow on your side of the bed with your eyes closed, you feel his stare through your eyelids and when you hear the cake container close, you sneak a peak. Before you can move, he pushes you hard out the bed and you roll falling to the floor with a shriek. You all but jump to collect yourself from the floor. "Why are you so violent!"

"You ain't seen violent. Show me what you got, I won't ask again." He reopens the cake while you head to the small closet to pull a few of the outfits and lay them out over the bed.

"I need to see them on you," he says ignoring you and the outfits you laid out, preoccupied with the sweet chocolate cake. It has chocolate pieces shaped like tiny Hershey's kisses. "...To see if you need to take anything back. Put em on."

"Ugggggggghhhhh," you groan already having done the try-ons in the mall. Still, you take the first outfit into the bathroom. He pauses and his eyes go wide when you come out in the first ensemble, a black thigh-length lace dress with sheer lace sleeves and sheer cutouts in the bodice. Strappy black heels set it off and seeing his stuck expression, you do a spin pausing momentarily so that he can watch your booty. Ava and Toni both said it made your butt look great. They were right because that's exactly where his eyes fall. He's definitely shook. "Do I need to ask if you like it," you smirk and his eyes hesitantly flicker to yours, but then fall down to your titties which are sitting since you changed bras. His hand subconsciously finds his junk over the blanket and then moves as if it didn't just happen.

"Shit," he chuckles humorlessly.. still staring. "You should probably change.. back into something comfortable.. if you don't want something to happen to you tonight..."

His bottom lip looks extra heavy as it hangs until he picks it up to lick it. Something about that tongue.. It just does things to you. With a mild shiver, you walk to the drawer pulling one of the lingerie pieces you bought. You feel like pushing the envelope. Hopefully you'll get some head tonight! And if he liked the dress? Oh boy... You're laughing in your mind as you sneak it into the bathroom, his eyes trying to peek to see what you've got. When you reappear, his eyes are already trained on the door, waiting with the cake forgotten. It's not a second before he looks away, rubbing his face in his hand. He leaps to sit on the edge of the bed facing away, his face in his palms and you're thoroughly confused.

"You like?" Nothing. "Is that... a yes or a no...," you ask waiting for him to lather you with his attention. He won't even look. You have on a black and emerald green satin and lace bustier set with a black garter belt holding up sheer black thigh high stockings and the same black heels. "Erik," you call waiting on an answer. "ERIK."

"Gimme a minute, shit."

You stand there awkwardly waiting as the tv plays in the background until finally, he stands and walks slowly around the bed to stand in front of you. He's still looking down and not directly at you. "Whoa," you shout as his arm snakes between your thighs and you're hoisted sideways into the air by your thigh. He drops you onto the bed and as you bounce, he's still between your thighs pulling and ripping the lace of the panties. You're highkey pissed at this point because not only did you just buy them at his request.. they were costly and he hadn't even given his opinion. You push him attempting to slide away and sit up but he grips your thick calf pulling you right back down.

"You a fuckin tease.. Knowing damn well you ain't tryna get fucked tonight. What you want? Huh?" He pulls on your legs pushing back your thighs. "You want this tongue? Say it."

"I want that tongue," you whisper holding your own legs back. You'd been prepping and thinking about it all day. If you were honest... since the first time he did it. You just didn't have the courage to ask.

"Oh shit," he whispers awed and humored all at once. "My babygirl getting bold. You staring at my lips like you want something," he says licking his lips and his dimples pop.. something you'll never get tired of seeing. "Daddy can't hear you, babygirl. What you want?" You sigh. You're horny and you can't hide it nor do you want to.

"Please eat my pussy, daddy," you say a bit louder. He grins, his face dropping between your thighs. You feel his tongue trace your inner thighs and make its way to trace your outer lips before landing a kiss on your clit that's getting more and more swollen from stimulation and anticipation. You ask him again, a little louder. Speading you wide, he rubs his face all over your pussy and you moan feeling his mustache and beard prick at your flesh. You can hear him groan into your entrance, inhaling deeply and exhaling. Then he sits up calmly with a mellow look in his dark eyes.

"No," he says simply. He rolls over and turns the bedside light off before folding himself into his side of the bed. "Take that shit off before I fuck you into this mattress," he mutters. "Goodnight."

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trollhunter94 · 6 years

Text

Close To The Edge

Pairing: Castiel x Reader

Others: Sam and Dean, Crowley, Meg Masters and Dick Roman

Warnings: Cannon Divergence, Torture

Words: 2.9K

A/N: Part 6 of the Castiel Soulmate Series. Here’s Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, __ Part 7

Summary: Castiel deals with the thought that you are dead. Meanwhile, the brothers take Crowley to an abandoned warehouse where a certain Demon is waiting, ready to join the fight.

Castiel had been sitting in the same spot for long enough now to see the sun rise. That spark of purpose that willed him to keep on fighting had been savagely ripped away. You were dead. He was certain of it.

He didn’t want to stand up or do anything productive. The emotional pain had buried itself inwards, applying a constant and heavy pressure to his vessel’s organs, making him completely immobile.

He had searched every inch of that burning warehouse for you, or what was left of you. After finding only burned remains of your backpack, he sat down and listened for you, for any presence of your soul. But there was no sign, no inkling that you were still alive in this messed up and forsaken world.

Even though he’d only known you for two days, the connection that he had felt to you was unfamiliar and indescribable. Now that he had seen the course of your life through memory and touched the pureness of your soul, he felt attached to everything about you.

But, you were now gone. Pulled away from his side, never to return. He blamed himself as Dean’s words rang through his mind: “She’s an untrained civilian. Placing her in the centre of this mess, will only get her killed. She’d last two minutes in there, tops”.

Although you lasted more than ten minutes and managed to rig the trucks, Dean was right about one thing. It got you killed. At least, that was what Castiel thought.

Meanwhile, after several hours of driving, the brothers were close to St Louis on their way to Roman HQ, along interstate 70. The boys were currently discussing the decision to let you fight with them.

“I think it’s a good thing” Sam gestured with a shrug of his shoulders. “Cas has been a little off his game lately and”...

“Yeah, and can you blame him?” Dean interrupted, justifying the Angel’s recent behaviour. “He’s been through the grinder this past year. I’d be worried if he wasn’t”. Dean scratched his nose as he listened to Sam’s opinion on the matter.

“I know, but this time he’s not alone, you know? He’s got her to help him”.

“What? Like he didn’t have us?” Dean questioned, feeling a little hurt. Sam was quick to correct himself. “No, I mean in an intimate way, you know. A human companion will maybe help him to see the emotional side and fragile nature of things. Do you know what I mean?”

Dean was silent for a moment as he thought about Castiel’s tendency to jump into situations without a second thought of the human casualty. Whilst he does believe that Cas only has good intentions, a little humility wouldn’t go amiss.

“Yeah. That’s what makes me worry though” he admitted. “What if he does get attached to Y/N and then something happens to her? If she dies, it will break him”.

“Yeah, I see your point”. Sam’s hand ran through his hair as he pondered the many possible situations in which you could become a liability to their mission. If you were kidnapped, that was leverage to be held against Castiel. If you were killed, that would definitely divert his focus on revenge.

At a loss, Sam let out a small sigh, hands rubbing against his knees as he conjured up their only option. “Let’s just hope that he keeps her out of serious danger”.

“Yeah” Dean snorted with pessimism. “Let’s hope”.

As the minutes passed and miles of shrubbery flew by, they eventually arrived at their next destination.

“Turn in here” Sam advised, pointing to the oncoming road on the right. Dean followed his Brother’s request, leading the car down a side-road and up to a warehouse.

Dean switched off the ignition and looked up sceptically through his wind-shield at the old and abandoned building. “This is where you wanted to go? Have you got some kind of property renovation or hobo fetish you’re not telling me about?”

Sam shook his head with closed eyes and a smile, deflecting Dean’s quirky insult. “No. Just came to get a few things. Help me get Crowley out?”

After an unconvinced eye squint from Dean, the boys swiftly stepped out and made their way over to the trunk. Dean popped the hood and a smile plastered his face as Crowley’s sweaty and dishevelled figure was revealed.

Sam, once again, yanked Crowley out without any sensitivity. The King of Hell stumbled onto the gravel before straightening his posture and addressing his captors. “Come on boys. What’s with all the hostility? I thought we were friends”.

Dean scoffed at his statement. “Friends? You tried to kill us, Crowley. Not to mention the conspiring with Cas to open up Purgatory”.

Sam was quick to jump in with the blame game. “This whole mess is your fault”.

“How is it my fault”? he retorted defensively. “Your Angel was the one who swallowed all those Leviathans. All I did was suggest the idea”.

“Exactly!” was all Dean needed to say, grabbing his sleeve and leading him into the warehouse. Sam was quick to find a rickety, wooden chair and placed it in the middle of the room before pulling a spray can out of his bag, giving it a shake.

Plonking Crowley down on the chair, Dean stepped back and pointed a finger at him. “Sit there and be quiet. If I hear so much as a snarky comment, you’ll be gagged for the rest of this journey”. Crowley’s eyes were full of both defiance and reluctant acceptance as he glared harshly at the eldest Winchester.

As Sam drew the trap along the floor, Dean paced the room, taking in the sight of broken windows and dust-covered machines. “What are we even doing here Sammy?”

“It’s just a pit-stop. We’re waiting for someone” he replied as he finished spraying and stood up, wiping his hands on his jacket. “Who?” Dean questioned sceptically, cautious of Sam’s secretiveness.

“A friend” Sam explained. “Trust me”.

“We don’t have any friends” Dean said, trying to think of who Sam had been talking to. Maybe it was another Hunter.

A figure soon appeared in the doorway. “Hello boys” a familiar voice called to them. Dean shot his head round to see Meg standing there. Before he had a chance to react, Crowley voiced his concern. “Hey! That’s my line”.

Dean’s gaze sharply turned to his brother with a cold expression. “Really Sam? Meg? That’s who’s helping us?”

“It’s nice to see you too Dean” she retorted, feeling slightly offended. Here comes the ‘Demons are second class citizens’ bullshit again.

Dean’s lack of tolerance was portrayed by the look on his face as he swivelled back around to face her. “What do you want, Meg? We’re kind of busy here?”

“I come bearing gifts” she said before looking down at the floor with a fake sadness. “But since I’m not welcome here, I’ll just take this Alpha blood with me”. As she held the vial out in front of her, Dean’s eyes instantly widened with intrigue.

“Whoa, whoa. Just hold on a second” he held his hands up defensively. Meg shifted an eyebrow. “Oh, I’m sorry. What was that?”

Dean’s face dropped as he turned and shared a look with Sam. He knew that she wanted an apology, or at least some recognition for helping them. He straightened his posture and cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. Thank you for helping us Meg. We really appreciate it”.

She smiled sarcastically at his words before throwing the vial of blood to him. “You know, I’ve got just as much reason to destroy that grade A asshole. Humans aren’t the only ones on Dick’s hit list”.

She reached a hand into her pocket and pulled out the familiar sight of the Colt. “Here’s your gun back” she said, passing it over to Sam. Dean’s eyes followed the Colt with a shocked expression and a pointed finger. “Wh- what, where? How?”

His eyes quickly narrowed at Sam with the feeling of another betrayal. “Excuse us a moment” he said as he grabbed the sleeve of Sam’s jacket and lead him to a corner of the room.

“Dude! What the hell? You gave her the Colt? His voice was raised in anger as his little brother had once again, gone behind his back.

“Dean. She’s on our side. She was willing to kill an Alpha to put Dick down”.

“I couldn’t give a rat’s-ass, Sam. You lied to me, again!”

Sam’s arms flew up in frustration. “This is why I didn’t tell you Dean. Because I knew you wouldn’t even give the idea a chance”.

“Of course I wouldn’t” he admitted, throwing his hands up. “But that’s not the point. It’s the keeping shit from me, like that crap you did with Ruby. We’ve been chasing the Colt for days now and you’ve just sat shotgun this whole time, watching me run around like an idiot. That’s not teamwork, Sam. It’s sabotage”.

Sam took a deep breath, shaking off the harsh reminder of his past. “Look, I’m sorry for not telling you. But we’ve got the rest of the ingredients within our reach now. All we need is Crowley’s blood and Cas’, then we can kill Dick for good”. There was still a look of frustration in Dean’s eyes as Sam pleaded to him.

“Please, Dean. Let Meg help us. We all know that Crowley’s not gonna give it up without a fight”. Dean took a moment to think about it. Sam was right. But he was still pissed about the way he went about it.

“Uh, we’ll talk about this later” he dismissed the argument and held out his hand. “Give it to me”. Sam passed the gun over without hesitation, where Dean snatched it and put it in his waistband before walking back over to Meg.

“So how are you going to convince Mr sunshine and daisies over there to give a blood donation?”

The smile that transfixed Meg’s face was full of evil intent, enacting on some revenge of her own. “Oh, I’ve got certain powers of persuasion. Besides, you boys have made my job easier, seeing as he can't go anywhere”.

Sam walked around the trap, admiring his handy work. "It should hold for now. Let's hope these powers of yours are enough".

A snort of sarcastic denial came from the Demon King. Crowley was resisting the urge to mock, but ultimately failed as the words came falling from his mouth. “It didn’t take much persuasion for you to betray your king, you little whore”.

Both Sam and Dean widened their eyes at his insult. Meg didn’t reply, but walked up to the devil’s trap and slapped Crowley across the face with force. Dean couldn’t help but laugh, this was turning out to be a good day.

Crowley lifted his head back up and licked his bottom lip, looking at Meg with a taunting amusement. “Is that all you’ve got? I knew you were pathetic, clinging on to whoever’s got the best chance of survival. You’re nothing but a parasite, to Humans and Demons alike. Nobody wants you around, you little bitch”.

This seemed to infuriate Meg, causing her to approach Crowley and throw a mighty punch towards his throat. The weight of her swing forced the chair to swing backwards, crashing to the floor. Crowley groaned, rolling on his side amongst the broken pieces of wood.

Meg turned around to see the Brothers reactions, not being disappointed by their faces of shock and admiration. “That was awesome” Dean praised with a wide smile.

“Thanks” she said, before something hit her against the back, gaining her attention. She turned around to face Crowley but was met with a chair leg flying towards her face. And then another.

Refusing to give up, Crowley threw each piece of wood towards the pesky Demon with defiance. She attempted to block the harrowing onslaught but gained a few cuts and splinters to the face. Eventually, her patience wore out.

Stepping forward, she clenched her fist and used her power to send Crowley to his knees.

Crowley was now on the other side of torture. Experiencing the pain of having his internal organs crushed was not what he’d expected. After nothing but groans of pain from across the room, Dean stepped forward to try a different tactic. “Give it up, Crowley. She's not gonna stop”.

“Okay. Okay” he surrendered, holding his hands up with defeat, causing Meg to release her hold on him. “You can have my blood. But you lumberjacks are still missing a key ingredient”.

Dean’s eyes darted to the side and back as Castiel jumped into his thoughts. God, he hoped that you and Cas were okay.

You awoke to the sight of total darkness, face covered by a black hood over your head. An attempt to move your arms made you realise that both your hands and legs had been restrained. Breathing heavy, you turned your head to listen as someone entered the room. No, two people.

The sound of footsteps became overshadowed as they began to converse. “The Sucro-Corp trucks have been destroyed”.

A deeper, yet calmer voice entered the conversation. “How did this happen?”

“It was her, Sir. We found her in the warehouse. She was with the Angel”.

An annoyed groan was short-lived when he laid eyes upon you. “Excellent. Well let’s meet our new guest, shall we?” One of the men walked behind you. Lifting the hood off your head, light suddenly burning your retinas until they began to focus on your surroundings. An office room.

The blurred silhouette in front of you was now visible as the famous Dick Roman, standing smugly and smiling at you.

“Hi there“, he greeted you, crouching down to your eye level. “And what do we have here?” You tugged at your restraints, fearful of what this creature was capable of. “Let me go!” you demanded, hoping that they would see you as just an innocent bystander.

He placed a hand to his chest with fake sympathy. “You know what? I would like nothing more than to send you merrily on your way. But, it seems you’ve been busy destroying my things with that sad excuse of an Angel. Now, I need to know, who else is a part of this little scheme to ruin my plans?”

“I’m… I. I don’t know what you’re talking about. Who are you people, and what the hell am I doing here?” You played on the fact he had no idea who you were. “Let me go, or I will sue your ass”.

“Oh, quite the demanding one, aren’t you?” He smirked before standing up and slowly pacing the floor. “I know you’re playing dumb with me. If you refuse to tell me who else you’re working with, then I’ll just have to pry it out of you by force”.

He stopped pacing and stared at you expectantly, waiting for a confession. At this point, your thoughts had taken over, dreading and debating how this interaction could pan out.

He gave the man who stood behind you, a nod of his head. This prompted the man to move across the room and up to a large cart that was covered by a white, plastic sheet. He gripped the covering and pulled it away to reveal a display of metal tools and instruments.

You watched as Dick strolled over to the selection and picked up a three-pronged fork. You involuntarily swallowed at the sight of the long and sharp weapon. This was not how you expected this adventure to end; being killed by the bad guy.

He approached you again, gently taking hold of one hand, straightening your fingers and placing the fork under three of your fingernails. “Now. I’m going to ask you once, and only once. Who else knows that you and Castiel were in that warehouse?”

You quickly debated your options. You could keep your mouth shut and endure the torture, maybe give some false names or give in and hand over the Winchester brothers. You chose option one, reluctantly.

A prolonged silence forced Dick to follow through on his promise. “Very well. This is most definitely going to hurt”. He pushed on the instrument, forcing the prongs under your fingernails. The pain was excruciating, causing your arm to spasm against the restraint and involuntary screams to fall from your mouth as the sensitive skin was penetrated.

You were not prepared for this level of pain. Your head hit the back of the chair, desperation for relief coursed through you like severe dehydration, reaching out for something to soothe. Your spirit was unconsciously calling for one thing in particular. Castiel.

At that moment, Castiel was standing inside the hotel room from last night. This was the first place he was drawn to, the freshest reminder of you. After lying down on the bed for several minutes, wishing he could turn back time, he stood up and began to pace the room.

He was thinking about how to tell Sam and Dean of this tragic news, when the lights above him began to flicker violently.

His eyes shot upwards at the instant feel of your presence. The way that you were trying to connect to him through pure emotion and willpower created such an energy that his chest began to fill with a feeling of golden warmth.

A weight was gradually lifting off his shoulders, relief now coursing through him. You were alive!

Thanks for reading. Here’s Part 7 .

Tags:

@uselessace @superheavymetalunicorn @sumara62 @eziggyra @spookysculderfiles @doritoevansxwinterschildren @cabbitholeresearch @acheloishe

#castiel x reader #soulmate series #spn reader insert

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lilulo-12fanfiction · 6 years

Text

Paladins Chapter 4

Author’s Note: Thank you for the follows and faves and reviews! I’m glad you’re enjoying it. Please forgive any spelling or grammar errors. I’m not having it beta’d and sometimes I miss some. Also- obviously not following the show to the tee. This chapter I kind of rearranged events because well it worked better for me this way. Enjoy! I promise to try to not have such a long period between chapters. I had the flu and was sick for a while on top of life getting in the way.

Cami deadpanned when she opened her door the next morning and Oliver was standing there holding coffee and what appeared to be breakfast. She walked away from the door without saying anything and he followed her in and kicked the door shut behind him.

“Cami-“ he started to speak but she held her hand up to stop him.

“Ollie we don’t have to do this okay?”

“Do what?”

“The song and dance where you beg me for forgiveness? Where I’m mad until you wear me down. I get it okay? We aren’t what we used to be. As much as we want to pretend that nothing changed in the 5 years you were gone. You’re hiding something. And for some reason you don’t want to tell me. Or feel like you can’t tell me. You don’t trust me anymore and that’s fine. But I cant do this. It hurts to know that you have this life that you’re shutting me out of and I have so much I’m dealing with. You just left me there yesterday, alone. You actually left and this is the first I’ve heard from you since.”

“I have no excuse for yesterday. We had a moment and it freaked me out a little bit. It opened up something that I haven’t been willing to accept because I’m a coward. There is so much that I want to tell you...I just...I can’t. You will never look at me the same. I’ll lose you for good and I cannot have you walk away from me.” She hadn’t seen him so upset before. She placed her hand on the side of his face. He was being sincere. She couldn’t stop herself. She leaned in and their lips touched for the briefest of moments and a pounding knock on her door jolted them apart. She walked back over to the door and barely had it open before Tommy barged in.

“He cut me off.” Was all he said as he pushed into the apartment.

“What?!”

“Our father- he cut off my inheritance. No warning.” Cami’s eyes went wide. She threw her bead back and groaned.

“I’m gonna go” Oliver stood. “Cam- can we get dinner tomorrow? Continue our conversation.” She nodded her head. He kissed her on the cheek and quickly exited the apartment.

A little while later she made the decision to follow Moira’s advice. She couldn’t take it anymore. She pulled her phone out and texted her assistant Romano while Tommy ranted. She had spoken to him last night about her plan. The two of them were close. He was like her life assistant. She decided to have Oliver followed. She had an idea of where he was spending his time after looking through the Queen Consolidated properties but she needed to be sure. She couldn’t stress the importance of not getting caught. She was positive John Diggle would not be gentle. Romano knew he couldn’t tell them anything if caught. She promised an amazing bonus if he caught a beating. She was confident that he would go unnoticed.

She let Tommy vent for a while longer and when he seemingly got it out of his system she was ready to interject. “Listen, Dad cutting you off like that was a real dick move. No arguments there. But at the same time you have to see why he did it. Tee, you have so much potential and because you’re more focused on making him pay for being a crap Dad to you, you’re wasting it. He should have talked to you first or at the very least warned you, something. But we will figure this out. You can stay with me until you figure out your next move.”

“I’m going to stay with Laurel” he admitted. She nodded not even slightly surprised. “But thank you for listening and thank you for the offer. I will figure this out. I was just pissed.” She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tightly. “No matter how pissed off I am at you I’m always here. No matter what. We stick together.”

He pulled back and gave her a skeptical look. “So uhh what’s going on with you and Oliver? There was some heavy sexual tension when I got her.” She gagged.

“Never say sexual tension to me again. Nothing is going on” Tommy gave her a pointed look. “Okay fine I have no idea what’s going on to be honest.”

“Well it’s about time something happened. I mean you’ve been in love with him since you were like 3 years old.”

“I take it back. You can’t stay here, ever. Get out” he laughed as she smacked him all the way out the door.

Oliver was working out in the bunker when John walked in. His mind was spinning about that morning.

“How’d it go?” He questioned. He was certain Cami chewed him up and spit him back out. John admired the fire that she had. He also loved that she had no issue with putting Oliver Queen in his place.

“Surprising actually.” Oliver walked towards John. “She didn’t yell. She was upset. Really upset and I feel like a fucking scum bag for making her feel that way. She thinks I don’t trust her or don’t care. Which couldn’t be further from the truth. I mean I wasn’t lying when I told her last night freaked me out a bit and that I’m a coward when it comes to her. I’ve always felt something for her. But she’s Tommy’s sister.”

“She’s also an adult Oliver. She’s a woman who is clearly torn up about you. She has feelings for you. I saw the look on her face when she ran out of that party. She was devastated. And not for nothing but isn’t Tommy dating Laurel now? I mean he really doesn’t have anything to say.”

“I can’t be with her and not be honest with her. She knows me too well. She knows I’m hiding something. I told her that I was afraid she’d walk away. That she wouldn’t be able to deal with it and that she’d never see me the same way again.”

“What was her response?”

“She kissed me. I mean it was the shortest kiss in the history of man. Tommy was banging on her door literally the second her lips touched mine.”

“But she kissed you.” John saw a genuine smile on Oliver’s face for the first time. “Look man- if you don’t tell her, if you don’t bring her into the fold in some capacity you will most definitely lose her. Friendship or otherwise. I’ve seen how she looks at you. The fact that she even let you in her house today. She’s not going to walk away.”

“That then leaves the issue of telling her puts her in danger. What if someone went after her? Do I have any business being with her?”

“Don’t you think that’s for her to decide? You need to let someone else besides me in. You need to have someone to confide in. I can’t begin to even pretend to know what happened in those 5 years. But you need someone you can be completely unfiltered with. She’s it. ”

“I’ll think about it. But for now we need to discuss this Paul guy.”

Cami was pacing in her apartment. Oliver had been with Frank Bertinelli and then left with his daughter Helena. She didn’t know if it was a date or what it was. She hated herself for being so put out by it. She had no right to be. They had barely kissed and he didn’t owe her anything. She wondered if that feeling would ever go away. But what superseded those feelings were ones of worry. She knew Bertinelli was a mobster bad had been trying to book Moira and Walter for as long as she remembered. She couldn’t begin to imagine what Oliver had gotten himself into. She had sent Romano home a few hours ago. She didn’t need to know the details of what was happening at that restaurant.

Instead her SUV was parked within walking distance to the abandoned Queen Consolidated building in the glades. Oliver had spent a good portion of his day there and then John had joined him. She figured she had time to get in and get out with Oliver not here. She was ready to confirm her suspicions.She slowly made her way through the rundown building. It was a perfect cover. Why would anyone come here? She didn’t find anything incriminating. There had to be either and upper or lower level. She was glad in black leggings and black knee high boots, a fitted black vneck and a black baseball cap pulled down to cover her her hair and sheild her face. She was searching the building inch by inch when she spotted a door but stopped in her tracks. She felt goosebumps and the hair on her body standing on end. Someone else was there. Her suspicions were confirmed when she heard the floor creek.

“Don’t take another step” a gruff voice came from whomever was behind her. She heard and arrow being pulled back. She rolled her eyes and raised her hands. “I’m not armed. You can put the bow and arrow down.”

“Don’t move” the command came again. She hadn’t expected to be caught. She let her intuition guide her next move like she had been taught by so many. Before the archer knew what hit him he was flat on his back with the wind knocked out of him after she had quickly dropped to a squat and spun her leg out. The heel of her boot was pressing into the hooded figures jugular.

“It’s not very nice to point a weapon at someone who tells you they’re not armed. Where are your manners?” She released her foot after making her point. As soon as he could breathe properly he stood up still shocked by what had happened but more shocked by who had done it.

“Cam.” Was all be said. She took the baseball cap off of her head. “Might as well drop your hood Oliver.”

“How did you know? How the hell did you figure out I was using the building.”

“You often forget who I am Oliver. One- I know you. I know when you’re lying. Two- we both know I’m way smater than you. No offense.” And three I’m a Merlyn. The resources I have are substantial and my name carries quite a bit of clout. You might be shocked to know I actually can be quite intimidating.” He sighed grabbed her by the arm and dragged her with him. He led her down to the bunker.

“Look what I found.” Cami wasn’t surprised to see John down in what seemed to be a bunker for Oliver’s extra curricular activities. “So who else did you tell?” He was angry. Cami scoffed.

“I told no one Oliver! And it’s really rich that YOU’RE mad right now! I should be furious with you!”

“I told you I needed time to open up.”

“About the Island Oliver. Not this. You never would have told me about this. Jesus. This is...I don’t know what this is. But this is what you thought would make me walk away from you? Because The Hood has killed people? Well those people were human garbage that the justice system couldn’t touch. Your methods may be extreme but you’ve made quite a difference.” Oliver was surprised.

“How did you know how to do that?” He finally spoke again. “What? Drop you on your ass? I told you my father had had me take all these fighting classes.”

“That was a little more than self-defense Cam.” She shrugged. “You know what my mother’s death did to him. You realize now I’m in right?”

“No. You’re not. I’m not letting you get hurt.” She rolled her eyes.

“I can take care of myself. And you don’t get to tell me what I can and cannot do. You need help.”

“I have John.” She rolled her eyes at him. “He’s not me. Again- I have resources that he doesn’t, that you don’t. Oliver- you need me.” She was pleasding. She couldn’t let him do this without her. He was going to get himself killed. “She’s right.” John finally spoke.

“NOT helping Diggle. I’m taking you home.” Cami snatched her arm away. “You’re a mysoginistic asshole. I can drive myself.” And with that she stormed out of the bunker. Oliver signed and sat down as he rubbed his forehead.

“Oliver” John made his way over to Oliver.

“Don’t Digg. It’s not up for discussion. I needdd you to have my back with her. Talk her out of this. I don’t need her getting killed in the crossfire.” John held his hands up and backed away leading Oliver to his thoughts.

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gotta-save-your-ass-for-a-change · 7 years

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Who Would Have Thought?: Chapter 14

Chapter Title: Good Enough Fandom: Shameless, Mickey/Ian Rating: M Summary: Mickey and Ian work to continue building their relationship with Yevgeny, and Mickey gets an offer from Fiona. Notes: Title inspired by Darren Hayes’s “Good Enough.”

Ao3 Link

Chapter One * Chapter Two * Chapter Three * Chapter Four * Chapter Five * Chapter Six * Chapter Seven * Chapter Eight * Chapter Nine * Chapter Ten * Chapter Eleven * Chapter Twelve * Chapter Thirteen * Chapter Fourteen * Chapter Fifteen

A few months later, Ian and Mickey have settled firmly into their new routine as a married couple and they’ve continued to build their relationship with Yev. Sometimes, Mickey still can’t believe how trusting Yevgeny is of both of them. It’s incredible, the sweet, innocent acceptance the boy has shown toward his dads. He’s never once questioned their love for him, even if Mickey and Ian had been absent for more time than they like to admit. Now, though, Mickey finds he’s glad they moved past all that while Yev was still young enough not to remember the long absence of his dads. Because Mickey knows, really, that Yevgeny has every reason not to trust either of them, and Mickey’s just happy that he’d come around to being a dad early enough to win back his son.

Svetlana, however, hadn’t been quite as trusting when they’d wandered back into Yevgeny’s life. Still, even she had started to come around. More and more frequently, Svetlana was willing to let Ian and Mickey spend time with the boy with little protest. She was still apprehensive about overnights, though, since Yev was still so young. It didn’t really help that they lived so close, either. It just added to Svetlana’s insistence that there was no reason for Yev to stay at Mickey and Ian’s overnight, if they could be there within a half hour to drop him off or pick him up. As a result, they hadn’t had Yev overnight since Christmas, and even then, it had taken quite a bit of pushing to get Svetlana to agree. They’d let it be for a bit, figuring it wouldn’t help to push again so soon. Yev was getting restless for another chance to stay with his dads, though, and Mickey was hopeful the boy might wear his mom down soon, since Mickey and Ian were both hoping to get into a more consistent visitation routine.

Mickey’s starting to get restless, too, though—worried that Yevgeny might think the choice is Mickey and Ian’s to make. Especially since they’ve been trying hard to put up a united front with Svetlana to build their family as a whole. Overall, she’s proven supportive, regardless of her wariness. She was even the one to encourage Yevgeny to call Ian dad, and she’d worked hard to overcome their past for the sake of their son—something Mickey and Ian would always be grateful for. But Mickey’s starting to worry that the long months since Christmas are starting to wear on their relationship with Yev, since the boy has been a broken record about staying over with his dads since that first overnight.

“Morning, babe,” Ian greets with a smile when Mickey wanders into the kitchen. Mickey gives him a little sneer in response, and Ian lets out a laugh at that. “Okay, grumpy, don’t start,” Ian teases, stepping away from the stove for just a moment to meet Mickey at the breakfast bar where he presses a quick kiss to Mickey’s lips as his husband plops himself down, still grumbling.

“Woke up without you, asshole,” Mickey scolds. “You know I fuckin’ hate wakin’ up without you.”

“Oh, hush,” Ian smiles despite himself as he turns back to the stove, hoping Mickey doesn’t catch the fond little tilt of his lips, “I’m makin’ you breakfast, you dick.”

“Yeah, yeah. And I appreciate it,” Mickey insists honestly, pushing back up off the stool he’s occupying to wander up behind Ian, slipping his arms around the other man’s waist and leaning up to press a kiss to Ian’s cheek before resting his head against Ian’s shoulder and holding on. “Just hate wakin’ up without you. Fucks with my head.”

Ian nods a little solemnly at that. He gets why it unnerves Mickey to wake to an empty bed after the year and a half in prison, and really, after all the time Ian had spent when he was manic getting up at the crack of dawn—Ian imagines it probably reminds Mickey of times when Ian had been less than faithful. “’m sorry,” Ian admits quietly. “Didn’t mean to freak you out. I know it probably brings back a lot of shit, and I—”

“Hey,” Mickey cuts him off when he hears the tremble of guilt in Ian’s voice. He steps away from Ian just a bit until he can turn the other man towards him, reaching up to frame Ian’s face with gentle hands. “Not what I meant, love. I just don’t think I’ve woken up without you since the day I got out. Usually you wake me before you even so much as leave the room. It’s stupid to think we can keep that up forever. Nothin’ you need to feel guilty for. That shit’s in the past, and I trust you, Ian. Just like wakin’ up beside the man I love. Okay?”

Ian finally lets himself smile genuinely at that as he leans in again for Mickey’s lips. “Okay,” he agrees brightly, letting himself get just a little lost in Mickey’s eyes.

After just a moment, though, Mickey gives Ian a playful little swat on the ass and pulls away to return to his spot at the breakfast bar, smirk playing on his lips. “Don’t burn the bacon, bitch.”

Once Ian’s finished making them breakfast, he settles a plate in front of Mickey and sits beside his husband, quickly noticing the slight cloud of discontent that continues to shroud Mickey’s mood.

“You worried about the whole thing with Yev?” Ian asks after a moment, recognizing the way the tension quickly drops Mickey’s shoulders as Mickey lets out a deep sigh.

“I guess,” Mickey admits, averting his eyes from Ian’s. “Just hate that Svetlana’s so against letting him stay over again. I kinda get it, you know—she’s protective; we haven’t always been the most reliable. But I hate sayin’ no to him about this. Don’t want him to think we don’t want him here, you know? He’s our kid, Ian, and I want him to know he's always welcome here. I don’t wanna piss off Lana, but I don’t want to hurt our boy trying to placate her, you know?”

Ian nods, watching Mickey carefully for a moment. He’s been feeling the same—worried and restless and missing the time with their son. So Ian makes a mental note to try to talk to Svetlana on his own. See if he can make any headway to help her feel more comfortable at the separation. Because he knows he and Mickey need her to trust them more completely if they ever want to make things right and guarantee that their little family stay intact.

A few days later, Mickey’s weary after a long day of work as he unlocks the door to their apartment, hoping to find Ian still awake. It’s not late, really, but Ian had worked a long shift that had started early, beating Mickey home by a few hours, and Mickey assumes Ian must be exhausted. But Mickey’s hoping for some time with his husband, and he’s relieved when he spots the living room lights on and sees Ian’s red hair from where his husband is sitting on their couch.

“Hey,” Ian greets softly as Mickey approaches, smiling up at Mickey for a moment before dropping his eyes to indicate the cozy bundle he holds in his arms. Mickey's face lights up genuinely then, his exhaustion evaporating immediately when he takes in the sight of his husband cradling their son, Ian trying his best not to rile up the sleepy toddler in his lap. “Got ourselves a Yevy sleepover.”

“Hey, little man,” Mickey greets, keeping his voice quiet as he moves to Yev to press a little kiss to the child’s forehead before leaning over Yev to kiss Ian gently. “Got my two favorite people for the night, huh? How’d I get so lucky?”

Ian laughs lightly up at Mickey. “Was Svet’s idea, actually. She knew we were getting a little restless about the whole thing and asked if we wanted to try another overnight. I figured now would be a good time. We’re both off tomorrow. Can take him out for breakfast. Maybe to the park. I thought it’d be fun.”

“I love that idea,” Mickey grins at Ian before pressing another kiss to Ian’s lips.

Yev reaches up between them then, patting both their cheeks with his little hands. “Read stories, daddies,” he requests quietly, drawing a smile from both Ian and Mickey.

“You want a bedtime story?” Mickey asks quietly, lifting Yevgeny into his arms when the boy reaches out for him. Yev nods, rubbing his tired eyes, and Mickey rocks him before nodding toward Yev’s room.

Ian gives him a smile in acknowledgement and follows Mickey and Yevgeny into the toddler’s room, where Ian grabs Yev’s favorite picture book off the top of the bookshelf. Mickey situates Yevy in the middle of the twin bed, and he and Ian make themselves comfortable beside him. After a moment, Yevgeny cuddles up to Ian so he can see the pictures in his story, and Ian strokes Yev’s hair gently as he reads, both Yev and Mickey drifting at Ian’s soft tone.

Once Yev’s down, Ian and Mickey busy themselves getting ready for bed. While Ian’s brushing his teeth, Mickey strips down and drags on a pair of flannel pants before making himself comfortable in their bed, leaning back against the headboard. When Mickey hears the water shut off, he looks up to lock eyes with Ian, who’s just stepping back into their bedroom.

“Hey, babe,” Mickey calls, scowling to himself when he realizes he’s used the dreaded pet name, “can I talk to you for a minute?”

Ian eyes Mickey cautiously for a moment as he crawls into bed beside Mickey, settling close. “Should I be worried?” he asks, eyes narrowed playfully.

“All right, dumbass,” Mickey scolds, elbowing Ian playfully in the ribs. “You know better than that.”

“Okay, I got it,” Ian chuckles with a smile. “What’s up?”

“Fiona made me an offer today,” Mickey starts, watching Ian closely. “She’s doing really well right now, and she’s looking to ditch the diner so she can focus on renovating her properties. So, uh, she officially offered me the management position at the diner. It’s not a ton more money, but it’s something. We’ve also got a good staff right now, so the extra hours I’ll have to put in should be minimal. Fi said we could give it a trial run to make sure you and me are okay with the change. Couple months to decide if I want to take it on permanently.”

Ian nods, eyes focused on Mickey’s as he tries to read how Mickey’s feeling. “What do you think?” Ian asks, reaching out to smooth a stray strand of hair away from Mickey’s forehead.

“I don’t know,” Mickey shrugs. “Might give us a chance to save a little more. Maybe spoil Yev a bit. Figure it wouldn’t hurt to try it out for a couple months.” Mickey’s not just thinking about Yev, but he’s not ready to admit that yet, so he leaves it at that and looks to Ian expectantly.

Ian nods, smiling at Mickey genuinely. “Then we try it out for a couple months,” Ian agrees as he leans over to kiss Mickey softly. “‘m proud of you, Mick. Love you.”

Mickey smiles and strokes a finger over Ian’s cheek. “Love you, too,” he murmurs as they settle into bed, curling tight around one another.

After a moment, though, Mickey breaks the silence, a little smirk playing at his lips. “So, earlier, when you said it was Svet’s idea to let us take Yev for the night, what you meant was that you fuckin’ begged her on your hands and knees, right?”

Ian immediately lets out a loud, irritated sigh at Mickey’s perceptive nature. “I fuckin’ hate you,” Ian teases, pinching Mickey’s hip playfully.

Mickey just laughs at that, snuggling back into Ian’s hold. “Sure you do, tough guy.” After another moment, he whispers quietly, “Thank you.”

Ian just nuzzles at Mickey’s neck and drops a couple of soft kisses there in answer as they both drift off to sleep.

The next morning, Mickey wakes early in Ian’s arms; Ian’s fingers stroking gently over the skin of Mickey’s forearm. Mickey smiles groggily after a moment, pressing back into Ian’s touch and sighing happily when his husband presses little kisses to the back of Mickey’s neck. After a few moments like that, just savoring Ian’s touch, Mickey finally shifts over until he’s facing Ian, kissing him softly and murmuring a quiet “Good morning.”

Ian smiles back, happily accepting the gentle affection Mickey’s showing him. “Mornin’,” Ian returns, eyes drifting over Mickey’s sleepy features. “Seems like the kid slept through the night. Think we should go check on him?”

Mickey sighs a little at the prospect of leaving their bed, but he acquiesces, patting Ian’s chest softly before pushing himself up and digging up a long sleeved shirt—the March air still chilly enough to leave Mickey immediately missing the cozy comforter on their bed. Ian grins and follows suit, dragging on a pair of sweatpants and a light sweater.

When they peek into Yevgeny’s room, the little nightlight and the early morning sun are giving off just enough light to illuminate the boy. Yevgeny’s still lying down, tucked under his covers, but playing quietly with his favorite little elephant stuffed animal. He still looks sleepy, so Mickey pushes the door open gently and inches in with Ian. Yevgeny notices them near immediately, smiling up at them brightly.

“Good morning, daddies,” he slurs out, voice still sleepy and small.

“Mornin’, little man,” Ian whispers, trying his best not to disturb the peaceful atmosphere. “How’d you sleep, kiddo?

“Good, daddy,” Yev insists, rubbing a little at his eyes to wake himself more fully. “Love my room.”

Mickey smiles at that, sitting himself down on the edge of Yev’s bed and stroking the boy’s blonde hair. “That’s great, Yevy. Daddy and I are so glad you like your room.”

Yevgeny nods and gives his dads a big smile before pushing himself up into a sitting position. “Time to get up?” Yev asks curiously with an exaggerated shrug.

At that, Mickey and Ian both laugh softly, and Ian answers quietly, “Yeah, bud. How about we get up and get dressed, and then we can go out for breakfast, huh?”

“Yes, please!” Yevgeny insists excitedly, throwing off his covers and reaching out to grip the hand Mickey offers to help him hop off the bed.

Yevgeny’s thrilled when they walk into the diner and he spots his aunt Fiona, who spoils him with Mickey Mouse chocolate chip pancakes. He babbles at Fiona happily, telling her all about his room and his toys and how much he loves staying with his dads. Fiona grins happily at him, entertained at the boy’s excitement. Fiona knows a bit about the struggle Mickey and Ian have been dealing with, and she’s happy to hear that Svetlana’s starting to loosen up a bit. She can see how thrilled Mickey and Ian are to have Yev there with them, and it’s nice to see them all so happy. After a bit, though, she leaves the little family to their own devices, reminding Mickey briefly about the management offer. He promises to talk with her about it on his next day in, and they finish their breakfast just the three of them, Yevgeny chattering happily about his sisters and his mom and how he can’t wait to start school.

After breakfast, they spend the rest of the day out and about with Yev.

They spend a lot of their time at a little local park, where Yevgeny spots a cheery little dog. The owner lets him play with the puppy, who Ian thinks might be a pug. Whatever it is, it’s friendly and spends most of its time lapping at Yevgeny’s cheeks while the boy giggles uncontrollably. Ian laughs right along, and Mickey shakes his head at the pair, insisting to Ian that they are not getting a dog. Ian just laughs and agrees, but Mickey can tell his husband has a soft spot for the little animal, and Mickey would be lying if he said he didn’t think the little guy was cute. So Mickey just stands back and watches Yevgeny play happily while Mickey hopes their son won’t think to ask for a dog of his own.

By the time they wander back home, it’s time for a late lunch and a nap for Yev.

For a bit, Yev fights the nap. He’s tired and fussy, and it manifests in tears and frustration when his dads try to get him to lie down. They manage to distract him with a story, though, and he drifts off to sleep quickly once he’s calmed down and Mickey’s started reading for him. Once Yevgeny’s fallen asleep, Mickey and Ian wait for a bit before untangling Yev from Mickey’s lap to make sure the boy doesn’t wake when they shift him further onto the bed. Ian smiles softly as Mickey tucks Yev’s blanket up around his shoulders before pressing a little kiss to the boy’s hair.

When they finally manage to slip out of the room, they both breathe a sigh of relief, laughing quietly as they move out into the living room and drop down onto the couch. After a moment, Mickey shifts closer to Ian to lay his head on Ian’s chest.

“Well, that was an ordeal,” Mickey admits, his own exhaustion whispering through in his tone. He’s happy, though—it’s clear in the little tilt of his lips. Ian smiles back, kissing the top of Mickey’s head and tucking an arm around Mickey’s waist.

“He was a little fussier than usual, huh?” Ian admits. It feels good, really, knowing that they’re finally getting to know every side of their son. For so long, they’ve only had a few hours here or there with Yev, Christmas being the only notable exception. It should probably be a little unnerving for them, finally experiencing the fussy side of their son, but Ian can’t help but feel like they’re growing as a family—learning Yev’s limits and how to effectively soothe him. It feels good.

Mickey nods in answer to Ian’s question, nuzzling closer to his husband, and letting his eyes drop shut contentedly. “Just glad we get to have this time with him. Thank you, Ian. For talking to Svetlana. Know she can be tough to deal with. She means well, I know, and we’ve fucked up a lot in the past. I’m glad she loves him so much, and I’m glad she’s protective, but sometimes it’s tough, you know? When it’s directed at us. Just wish we could move past all the bullshit.”

“I know, Mick,” Ian admits, stroking his fingers gently over Mickey’s arm, “but I get it, you know? I scared her. Back when I took him. And we both kind of ditched after that. Left her to find her own way. And she did, because she’s strong as fuck and nothing was going to stop her from taking care of herself and her son, but we really fucked up, Mick. And maybe we needed to go through that to get here, but it wasn’t fair to her or to Yev, and we’re probably lucky she lets us see him at all, you know?”

“Yeah,” Mickey agrees sadly. Ian’s right. Until recently, they were never particularly reliable. “Yeah, I know. Just want to move past it. Prove ourselves.”

“We’re gettin’ there, Mick,” Ian promises. “We are.”

A couple days later, Mickey wanders into the diner, a bright smile on his face. “Morning, Fi,” he greets with a little wave.

She’s sitting at the counter mulling over paperwork for her most recent renovation project, and she looks stressed. Even still, she offers him a smile. “Hey, Mick. Any news?”

“Uh, yeah,” he offers, nodding, eyes nervous. “I think I want to try it out. Ian and I talked about it. Think it’d be a good opportunity. Little more money. Maybe help us save for the family, you know?” Fiona nods at that, but her brow furrows a bit at his words, and he realizes too late that she’s learned to read him almost as well as Ian. “So, uh, I’m gonna get to work.”

“Oh. My. God,” Fiona’s eyes are huge as she watches him, lowering her voice to hiss, “You want another baby!”

“Don’t,” Mickey warns, giving her a withering look.

“You do.” Fiona’s smiling brightly. “Oh my god, Mick, this is huge. What’s Ian think?”

Mickey sighs and hushes her. “Look, Fi, I’m not ready to tell him. We’re not there yet, okay. Yes, I’d like another baby sometime in the future, but we’re still miles away from where we need to be financially. Adoption and surrogacy are crazy expensive, and we’re doing well, but not that well. Want to see how the management gig goes, and then I’ll talk to Ian about it, but I’m not ready yet, so keep your mouth shut, please.”

Fiona grins at him. “Of course,” she agrees, pushing herself up from her stool, “I won’t say a word. Promise.”

When he notices her approaching him slowly, he sighs heavily and whispers out “Jesus Christ” before shaking his head and turning to her. “Do we have to?”

“Yes, we fuckin’ do,” Fiona insists with outstretched arms as she smiles mischievously at Mickey. “If I’m gonna be a goddamn aunt, I’m gonna get a goddamn hug.”

With a harsh sigh, Mickey lets her wrap him up in a tight hug as she laughs happily. “You’re a fuckin’ pain in my ass,” he tells her as she pulls away with a smirk and throws him the finger before she settles back down in her seat.

After a moment, she speaks up again. “You know, if you guys need help with the financial end of things, I’m here. I’ve got more money than I know what to do with now, and if there’s anything in this world worth investing in, it’s family. I know how much you guys love Yev, and I know you’re both great dads. If you need help, I’m here.”

Mickey watches her closely for a moment with grateful eyes, but he shakes his head slowly. “We couldn’t ask that of you, Fiona. Adoption can cost $50,000. Surrogacy, $100,000. We can’t just ask you to pay for something like that. You know you need to reinvest the money you’re making. It’s too early in this stuff for you to be handing out money.”

There’s a little smirk on her lips when he stops talking, and she sips nonchalantly at her coffee before meeting his eyes. “You’ve been doing your research,” her smile turns bright and happy as he rolls his eyes with shake of his head. “I’m impressed. And seriously, Mick, I could write you a check right now. Call it a loan if you want. Whatever. If you and Ian want to have a baby, I will help you make that happen. I’d be honored.”

“All right, Daddy Warbucks,” he kids, voice sarcastic but appreciative, “how ‘bout you give me some time to talk to my husband before you order a baby for us, yeah?”

Fiona laughs and throws her hands up in surrender. “Whatever you say, boss. We’ll get the paperwork drawn up for the management position, and whenever you’re ready, we’ll talk more about the baby thing.”

Mickey sighs in disbelief and heads toward the kitchen, throwing an annoyed “never” over his shoulder at her.

“Mmhm,” she murmurs with raised eyebrows sipping at her coffee and smiling to herself at the new development with the Gallagher-Milkovich family.

“Look at you,” Ian teases, voice still sleep groggy as he watches Mickey fix a tie around his neck. He’s decked out for the new job in a pair of black slacks and a white button-down, the tie he wears a deep black with a subtle striped shimmer running the length of it. “You look like a good, upstanding citizen.”

“Yeah, well, that’s fuckin’ good ‘cause I’m pretty sure I am now. Gotta look the part for the new job, man,” Mickey shoots back playfully, crawling up the bed toward Ian to press a kiss to his lips. “Didn’t mean to wake you. Go back to sleep, love.”

Ian smiles up at Mickey, soaking in the pet name happily. Mickey’s taken to using it more and more often because he still hates using babe, and Ian fucking adores it.

“Hush,” Ian scolds with a little smirk, drawing Mickey’s lips back to his own with a little tug at his tie.

“Hey, now,” Mickey scolds with a smile, “don’t wrinkle the merchandise.”

“You love it,” Ian shoots back, shifting his hands to work at Mickey’s belt. “How pissed do you think Fiona’ll get if you’re late? ‘Cause I’m thinkin’ I’d like to sample the merchandise.”

“You are so fucking corny,” Mickey laughs with a smile, kissing Ian one last time before pulling away reluctantly. “Sorry, love. Gotta get to work on time. I am not dealing with Fiona’s wrath just because you’re lookin’ for a quickie.”

“Mmm, come on, Mick,” Ian whines, leaning back against the pillows to watch Mickey continue getting ready. “I’ll suck you off, babe. Make it all about you.”

Mickey scoffs with a playful shake of his head, moving back toward Ian one more time. “As tempting as that is, I gotta go. Work to do and shit.” He presses another little kiss to Ian’s lips—won’t let it become anything other than chaste because he knows if he does he won’t ever leave the apartment. “Rain check. Tonight. Love you, Gallagher.”

At that, Ian smiles back at Mickey gently, pressing his own happy little “I love you” past his lips and letting his fingers linger on Mickey’s skin for as long as possible before his husband pulls away with a wink and heads out for work.

Mickey’s first day as manager goes well. Fiona’s already trained him on just about everything—has been working on preparing him since she upped him to full time—but Mickey had still been nervous. He hadn’t been entirely sure whether the girls would accept him in the role, and he’d already butted heads with a couple of their cooks on a few occasions, so he’d been worried about the expectations there. He’d started as a fucking dishwasher, for fuck’s sake. After most of his coworkers. He’d been a little concerned that at least a few of them wouldn’t take him seriously. But apparently, he hadn’t lost all his edge, and if there was one thing Mickey Milkovich knew how to use to his advantage, it was the intimidation factor that seemed to constantly follow him around.

And so, he’d gotten through day one smoothly, and he’d actually enjoyed himself.

When he gets home, he finds Ian cooking dinner. “Hey, love,” Mickey greets, slipping up behind Ian and wrapping his arms around his husband’s waist. Gently, he presses a kiss to Ian’s cheek, and when Ian shifts a bit in Mickey’s direction, Mickey captures Ian’s lips in a soft kiss.

“How’d it go?” Ian asks curiously, eyes locking with Mickey’s.

Mickey smiles genuinely. “I think I can do this,” Mickey admits with a little smile, and Ian returns it with a wide grin of his own.

“That’s awesome, Mick,” Ian offers, pressing another kiss to his husband’s lips. “’m proud of you, babe.”

“Hush,” Mickey teases with a contented look as he tucks his face into Ian’s neck and gives him a little nuzzle.

Ian knows Mickey’s still easily embarrassed by such praise, so he doesn’t push. Just drops his free hand to rub gentle little circles into the skin of Mickey’s forearm as Ian smiles happily. “Set the table for me?” Ian asks, changing the subject and smiling at the breath of relief he feels Mickey release.

“Yeah,” Mickey agrees immediately, shifting away from Ian after dropping a little kiss to Ian’s shoulder, “I’ll take care of it.”

#mickey/ian #gallavich #gallavich fic #shameless fic #s7 #canon divergent #fluff #who would have thought #chapter fourteen #my writing

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shirtlesssammy · 7 years

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Metamorphosis: Recap

Then:

Remember when Cas was Team Heaven? How far we’ve come. (Also, we’re neck deep in “Sam is loving that demon blood”)

Now:

Sam and Ruby have a demon held hostage, and after some fun back and forth banter, Sam sucks the demon out of his vessel and sends him straight to hell. Ruby’s proud of her little Padawan. Dean, who secretly witnessed Sam’s little trick, seems less than impressed. And as Sam is helping the former meatsuit stand, Dean reveals himself. Before Sam can explain himself, Dean demands to know who his buddy really is. “Good to see you again, Dean,” Ruby smirks. With Ruby’s real identity unmasked, Dean tries taking her out (with her own blade), but Sam intercedes.

At an impasse, Ruby takes the wounded man to the hospital, and Dean, too pissed to talk, walks away from Sam without a word.

Later, Sam is alone in the motel, presumably reading up on how to move beyond regretful sartorial choices, when Dean shows up. Dean’s still not talking, and just starts to pack his bags. Sam wants to talk, but Dean just punches him a couple times. “Do you even know how far off the reservation you’ve gone?” Sam tells Dean that he can send demons back to hell. Aggghhh, this whole scene is Supernatural 101. It’s so important for this season —for most seasons, for understanding Sam, who he was, who he thinks he still is. And it’s so great for how far Dean has changed. (Sidenote: I wonder if there’s a gif set of all the times Dean has smashed lamps in anger?) Sam pleads with Dean that what he’s doing is good. Dean wonders why he hid it from him then. Dean then says that “God doesn’t want you doing this.” Hmm, like we know that Cas didn’t get his orders from God, but Chuck will tell Sam that drinking demon blood is wrong!?!? Anyway, before the brothers can continue their conversation, Sam gets a call —they have a case.

Carthage, Missouri

A very hungry man is devouring his dinner. His wife is slightly concerned when he dives into his third steak of the night. He’s never felt better though! Later, as he’s brushing his teeth, his spine does some funky stuff. Looks painful to say the least.

On the road, Dean fills Sam in on his trip back in time.

“I can’t believe it! Mom? A hunter?” Hahaha. Oh, Sammy. Ok, I don’t think either son fully grasped that fact really. They continue discussing the craziness that is their Campbell side of the family, when Sam mentions demon blood. Dean didn’t tell him about the demon blood but Sam apparently knew about it for a year. Dean is A-OK with Sam keeping that little secret. Yep, totally cool.

Meanwhile, Hungry Man, or Jack, is impatiently waiting for dinner.

The boys are staking out Jack’s house. Their hunting buddy, Travis, told them to keep an eye out for anything weird. So far, Dean is less than impressed with this job.

Patience evaporated, Jack digs into some leftover chicken from the fridge. How disgusting is it to watch him eat? I know it’s the point, but ugh. Not a fan. He quickly goes from cooked chicken to uncooked beef. I can barely watch this. Blarf. Sam and Dean concur.

Back at their motel, Sam and Dean find Travis, the hunter buddy of John’s who called Sam. They briefly catch up before Travis reveals why he called them. “Boys, we’ve got a rugaru on our hands.” They start human but go through a metamorphosis, “like a maggot turning into a bull fly.” They’re hungry —for most everything, and then just “long pig”, or human flesh.

As Travis talks, we’re shown Jack, hungry as ever, stalking the family fridge, when his wife cuts her hand. She needs stitches, but instead of helping her, he runs. See, one bite of human flesh, the change is complete. “They feed once, they’re a monster forever.” *Is this relevant to the season 12 story? Alert* It seems that this particular form of monster is hereditary. Travis killed his father, and now Jack must go too.

At a bar, Jack is busy munching on very unsatisfying peanuts and slamming back whiskeys, and trying not to fantasize about his wife’s cut finger. He tries standing up for a lady towards some fat, sweaty dick, and ending up pulverizing the dude’s wrist. Shocked at his own strength, he leaves in a hurry.

Travis informs Dean that fire is the only way to take out a rugaru.

Sam comes back to the motel. He’s been doing research on rugaru lore. It seems that some rugaru never take that final step. They never transform. Travis calls the stories that Sam read fairytales. Sam insists that they need to talk to Jack, tell him what’s happening so he can fight it. And then we get the --don’t read too much into it because it’ll break your heart—exchange: Travis asks, “You’ve ever been really hungry? I mean, ‘haven’t eaten in days’ hungry?” and Dean’s very hungry response, “Yeah.” (Too late. My heart is broken.) Travis is on Team Kill Him No Matter What and Sam is on Team Only If He Kills Someone.

Back at the house Michelle prepares a nice, relaxing cup of post-ER coffee when Jack shows up again. He looms over her, apologizing profusely for flaking out on her. “Blood’s never bothered you before,” she says, softening towards him.

“Well,” he replies ominously, “I’ve changed.”

He passionately kisses her, but it swiftly turns rapey and she shoves him away, angry and disgusted. Jack runs off.

In the Impala, Dean asks Sam if he’s willing to finish the job, a.k.a burn a guy alive. “He’s gonna turn. They always turn,” Dean says. Sam still holds out hope for the guy, though. Dean, ever the subtle, tactful sort, says, “Nice dude, but he’s got something evil inside him. Something in his blood. Maybe you can relate.” (It is SUCH a dick thing to say. I have to remind myself that Dean just got out of Hell, he’s got angels all up in his business, and he chronically suffers from self-hatred that he liberally overflows onto others. Still. Dick move, Dean.)

Sam is NOT taking that shit (good on you, Sammy) and orders Dean to stop the car. They get out of Baby so Sam can read Dean the riot act. The reason he hasn’t told Dean is because Dean treats Sam like an idiot, a freak, someone who can’t tell the difference between right and wrong.

“I’ve got demon blood in me, Dean. This disease pumping in my veins and I can’t ever rip it out or scrub it clean. I’m a whole new level of freak.” Sam is just trying to make something good come out of the curse.

Dean (to everyone’s surprise?) chills out a little bit. He agrees to go talk to Jack about his rugaru affliction before they make any kind of combative move.

They find Jack watering his garden disconsolately.

Sam tells Jack that they want to talk to him about how he’s “changing.”

“Your appetite’s reaching hungry hungry hippo levels,” Dean helpfully contributes, telling Jack that he’s a rugaru. “Let’s skip the whole ‘you guys sound crazy,’ shall we?” They know Jack has been craving “long pig. A little man-burger helper.” (Damn it, Dean.)

To clinch their masterful hunter-savior sales pitch, the Winchesters tell him that his real father was killed by hunters for being a murderous rugaru.

That news goes over just about as well as you’d expect, and Jack orders them to leave his property.

Later that night, Jack sits at a bus stop listening to a voicemail from Michelle begging him to come home. He sees a woman who bears a close resemblance to his wife (I thought it was at first and was so confused - I’m terrible at facial recognition) at her window getting ready for bed. When she closes the curtains, he gets up from the bench and heads for the fire escape outside of her window.

“Damn it, Jack,” Sam says from inside the Impala where he and Dean have presumably been sitting and spying on him for...minutes or hours in their super incognito car. (Between them and Jack it’s like a nesting doll of spying.) They grab their improvised flame torches and head for the apartment complex.

From the fire escape, Jack watches the woman undress as he shakes outside the window. She turns out the light and he suddenly sees his reflection in the now dark window and gasps. He looks pale, sick, and half rabid. Horrified, he flees the scene.

Meanwhile, Dean and Sam burst into the woman’s apartment. “We’re here to save you, I guess,” Dean says waving his flame thrower around awkwardly. They quickly realize there is not currently a bloody rugaru attack going down, they’ve become the creepiest people in the room, and they flee the scene as well.

Jack heads home, calling for Michelle when he gets inside. He finds her tied to a chair. Travis sneaks behind Jack and drugs him with a chloroform soaked rag. Jack wakes to find himself tied up. He desperately tells Michelle to stay calm and give the crazy home intruder anything they want.

Travis reveals that he’s a hunter and Jack begs Travis for their lives - Michelle’s in particular since she’s innocent.

Travis apologizes but claims that Michelle is part of it now. When she opened the door to a crazy home invader, she begged for her life by saying, “Don’t hurt me, because I’m pregnant.” Fuuuuuuck.

Travis pulls out a gas can and starts shaking fuel all over the living room. Or...the couch? It was unclear. Regardless, Jack desperately begins to hulk out in a last ditch attempt to save their lives. The scene even intercuts to animations of blood pumping so you KNOW it’s serious.

JACK SMASH. He and Travis tangle on the floor until, what was briefly a normal desperate fight for your life situation, turns a bit more beastly. Jack rips open Travis’ shirt and takes a great big bite out of Travis’ neck. Travis dies quickly as Jack consumes his throat and shoulder.

Now that Jack has eaten “long pig” (UGH) he begins to transform into a pale, wrinkly creature (not unlike the first vampire from Buffy). Michelle weeps to witness this and Jack approaches her in comfort. Sorry, buddy. You are covered in man-burger helper. Jack unties her and begs brokenly as she runs out of the house. After she leaves he looks down at the hunter lying dead on the floor.

Sam and Dean pull up to the house, spotting Travis’ car outside. They tsk over Travis’ hotheaded ways, then walk inside to find an empty house, a massive blood stain on the floor, and a trail of gore leading around the corner. The bloody trail, like every rainbow in an evil mirror universe, ends in a pile of entrails.

“I guess you were right about Jack,” Sam sadly admits.

There’s no time for Dean to rub Sam’s face in it (gross), or to wax on about evil monsters never changing their ways. Out of nowhere Jack attacks Dean and knocks Sam out. Sam wakes up some time later, trapped in a closet. He yells for his brother.

“Dean can’t come to the phone right now,” Jack says brokenly.

Dean’s alive but knocked out and Jack stares and stares at his pretty, pretty throat. (Sorry, guys, that got weird.) ANYWAY, Jack tells Sam about Travis trying to burn Michelle alive. When Sam asks why Travis went after Michelle, Jack pretends not to know to protect her life and his unborn child’s.

Jack creeps up on Dean and licks some of his spilled blood from the table. “I can’t ever see my family again,” says the monster who now has nothing to lose.

Sam tries to stay calm and works at picking the lock. (In this rare Supernatural episode, Sam becomes the Winchester struggling to get out of the closet.)(Boris: Bwaahhh!)

He tells Jack that he doesn’t have to be a monster. “It doesn’t matter what you are. It only matters what you do.” Aw! Keep telling yourself that, Sammy. (Seriously, keep telling everyone that all the way through season eleventy-billion. They need to hear it.)

Jack writhes in agony and leans towards Dean with his hungry, hungry mouth opening hippo wide. Sam busts out of the closet just in time and torches Jack.

Later, in the Impala Dean tells Sam that he did the right thing - torching Jack. He had turned into a monster. Dean apologizes for being “kinda hard” on Sam. But “your psychic thing scares the crap outta me.” Good talk, Dean. A+ social skills.

In response, Sam is just done.™ Dean can’t understand where Sam is coming from and Sam is tired of talking to his judgy brother about it. “These powers,” Sam says, finally. “It’s playing with fire. I’m done with ‘em.”

Dean tells him he’s relieved and you can just sense he’s about to launch into another Mean Lean Dean Bean Lecture. He doesn’t get the chance, though. Sam tells Dean that stopping using his powers is his choice - he‘s not doing it for Dean or angels or anyone. So there. (Sticks out tongue.)

Natasha: It’s been such a long time since I rewatched this that I forgot basic things, like if Jack ever even fully transformed into a rugaru. I also forgot that this episode gave us the “whole new level of freak” quote and laid much of the groundwork for the tension between the brothers in the later half of the season.

Supernatural has revisited this question many times: does being a monster automatically make you guilty/evil by association? We’re examining that in season 12 with the British Men of Letters so the tension between the brothers in this episode feels especially relevant. They’ve both come a long way. Sam, in feeling less guilty and Dean, in chilling out and being willing to give people the benefit of the doubt. It’ll be interesting to see how their experiences shape the way they deal with the BMoL. I can imagine similar conversations with Mary, Mick, or Ketch in the future - probably, let’s be honest, in just two weeks when things get hairy for Claire-bear.

Quote-burger Helper:

The knife kills the victim. What I do - most of them survive!

If I didn’t know you, I would wanna hunt you.

I told you we shoulda hid the beer.

Sam loves research. He does. He keeps it under his mattress, right next to his KY.

We’re people who know a little something about something.

#spn recap #spn 4x04 #metamorphosis #dean winchester #Sam Winchester #supernatural season 4 #mary winchester rewatch #spn rewatch

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