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dindjarindiaries · 2 months

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Fight For Me

summary: When Din starts to get harassed at a cantina, you can’t help jumping in to defend him at all costs.

pairing: din djarin (the mandalorian) x reader

warnings: angst, strong language, mentions of trauma, canon-typical violence, injuries & blood, hurt/comfort, fluff

rating: T

word count: 3.175k

main masterlist • din djarin masterlist

You tugged on the hood of your poncho to conceal more of your face from view. “We’ve got a lot of eyes on us.”

“I told you.” Din’s modulated voice was low as he took a subtle step closer to your side. “We’re near Mandalorian Space.” You stole a glance over at him just in time to catch the quick tilt of his helmet. “The people out here aren’t fond of my kind.”

“I just…” You paused as the two of you passed another pedestrian, your chin and your gaze lowering until they were out of sight. “I thought you said Akiva was the first planet to pledge their allegiance to the New Republic.”

“They were.” Din’s gloved hand pulled into a fist at his side. You noticed it just as a bead of sweat began to trickle down your temple. “They wanted a change after years of the Empire ordering almost every Mandalorian warrior to do their bidding.”

“I see.” You exhaled and lifted your hand again to brush the sweat away. “It’s hot as hell here.”

Din huffed. “It’s known for its humidity.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “And yet you let me wear this?” You gestured to the thick poncho that sat over your head and shoulders.

“Staying concealed is a bigger priority than staying cool. We won’t be here for long.” Din nodded towards a building on the right. “Here.”

You read the Aurebesh letters that hung overhead the building’s round entrance: cantina. That was the last place you wanted to be on a world where Din and his kind weren’t welcome, but there wasn’t much of a choice. It was your first, and so far your only, lead on finding the new location of whatever remained of Din’s covert.

Din led the way inside, and as soon as he crossed the threshold, the chatter dimmed. Hushed voices spoke as Din wove the two of you through the tables and other crowds, carrying through the cantina until each voice rose back to its previous volume. You tightened your jaw and remained vigilant. Din may not have been worried about the actions of others, but you sure as hell were.

You stayed at Din’s side as he reached the bar, his gloved hands settling on top of it as he instantly gained the attention of the bartender. The Zabrak man tossed his hand towel on his shoulder and looked at Din expectantly. “What can I get started for you?”

Din reached into the pouch on his belt and set down a handful of credits. “Nothing to drink.” He slid the credits forward. “Just information.”

The bartender gave the pile of credits a cautious glance. “What makes you think I have something worth knowing?”

Din looked left and right before he leaned forward, lowering his voice in a much gruffer way than he would ever do with just you. “Nevarro.”

The bartender did the same gesture as Din before he secured his hand over the pile of credits. “Hold tight.” He pocketed the credits into his apron and nodded. “I’ve got something in the back.”

Din returned the nod, assuming his previous posture as the bartender disappeared into a back room. You crossed your arms and set them upon the top of the bar. Your voice was a hushed whisper as you spoke. “Do you believe him?”

Din shrugged. “We’ll see.” He exhaled, as if attempting to release some of the invisible weight that hung upon his armored shoulders. Your heart ached at the thought of it. “There’s no other option right now.”

“You shouldn’t be here.” A booming voice disrupted any thought you were going to voice in reply to Din. Your head turned as you observed the Klatooinian who stood behind the two of you. Your blood both ran cold and red-hot at the same time as you watched the Klatooinian snarl at Din’s back.

Din’s helmet didn’t move, his visor instead focusing ahead of himself as he tapped his gloved fingers against the bartop. Your gaze slid over to him as you waited for him to speak, but he didn’t.

“You know what your kind did to us—to this entire system.” The Klatooinian scoffed, his guise of amusement failing in favor of his lethal anger. He raised an arm to gesture to the onlookers around them. “I speak for everyone here when I say we would take any chance we could get at killing you ourselves.”

“I don’t think your Republic would take kindly to that.” You couldn’t help yourself from biting out the words. Din’s visor slowly slid towards you, a silent warning you failed to heed.

The Klatooian’s vicious eyes found yours. He then laughed, a grating sound that stung you and made you curl your hands into fists on the bartop. “You’re on the wrong side of the planet if you want New Republic support, dustbreather.”

Din tensed at the insult the Klatooinian threw at you, but he still didn’t speak. Of course he wants to defend me more than himself.

The Klatooinian had since set his attention back on Din. “Your kind was eliminated for a reason.” He took another step closer to Din’s back. Your fists tightened even more, until the leather on your hands groaned in protest. “You shouldn’t be here.”

Your gaze burned through the side of Din’s helmet. His visor faced you as he gave his helmet a small shake, but you were already blinded by your rage. His way was not your way.

“Peel that armor off and what are you?” The Klatooinian scoffed and took one more step closer. “Nothing but a man who should’ve died with the rest of his—.”

You lunged in a movement so quick not even Din could have stopped it as you slammed your fist as hard as you could against the Klatooinian’s jaw. The entire cantina roared as every eye settled on you, especially as you shook out your stinging hand and faced the Klatooinian who was barely still standing. Din had whipped around at your side, but even he was frozen as you sized up the Klatooinian.

“Oh, you bitch!” the Klatooinian seethed as he swung towards you. You skillfully dodged his blow and elbowed his ribs, using the opportunity to hit him with an uppercut. The commotion amongst the onlookers rose more and more as you evaded the Klatooinian’s hits and dealt him more of your own.

It was all a blur of blood, sweat, and hot fury until two arms wrapped around your waist from behind and pulled you tight against a beskar barrier. You fought against the grasp, the hood of your poncho having long since fallen away from your face as you swung towards the Klatooinian who had to be supported by his peers. “Fuck you!” you spat at your opponent. “You haven’t gotten even half of what you deserve!”

You tried to push off of Din to lunge at him again, but Din’s grasp only got tighter as he pulled you back to him. “Easy,” his modulated voice gently warned you.

“That man deserves to be dead!” The Klatooinian points a weary finger in Din’s direction.

You fought Din’s grasp again, pushing even harder against him that time. “I’ll show you who deserves to be—!”

Din forced you against himself so hard that it stole the air from your lungs for a moment. “Easy, cyar’ika.” The lip of his helmet was just beside your ear as he went on. “That’s enough.” He freed one arm from your waist to hold the wrist of your bleeding hand, forcing your arm behind you. “We have to go.”

His words made you snap out of your state of bloodlust as you turned your head around to face his helmet. “But we haven’t gotten your information.”

“Doesn’t matter. Half this cantina wants to fight you, and…” Din paused, his grasp easing on your wrist as he looked down at your hand, “you’re bleeding.” His voice lowered in worry.

“I’m fine.” You faced your opponent with indignance again. “I can take them.”

“No.” The arm Din still had around your waist gave you a gentle yet firm tug away from the growing crowd around the Klatooinian. “We’re leaving.”

Trying to argue with Din about that would be a losing battle, and so you sighed and started to follow him out. Before you could get far, someone whistled from the bar area. Din’s visor locked on something behind you, and when your gaze followed it, you found the bartender nodding at Din before tossing something in the air. Din released you only to catch it. He then returned the Zabrak’s nod and continued on.

“What is it?” Your curiosity got the best of you even as you and Din had to shoulder your way out of the rowdy cantina.

“Coordinates.” Din put your hood back over your head for you and led the way onto the street.

You furrowed your brow and cradled your stinging knuckles. “To where?”

“We’ll find out.” Din was clearly navigating for another specific place as he wove you through the fray. With the adrenaline of your fight still pumping through your veins, it was hard for you to focus, and that was something Din had no doubt picked up on.

Still, there was a more sickly sensation that prickled at you like a thousand icy needles, the chill of it settling inside your chest even amidst the humidity of the planet. You made your concerns known in a voice much quieter than you would have liked. “Are you upset with me?”

You earned no response. Din’s visor continued to look from building-to-building, and he moved at a pace that was getting difficult to keep up with. The needles turned into one sharp blade that sliced through your heart as you ultimately stopped in your tracks.

“You’re upset with me.”

Din stopped just a few paces ahead of you, but in an instant, he had closed the distance between you again. For a moment, his gloved hands cradled your face. “No. Not at all.” His helmet lifted in realization of your surroundings, his hands soon following as they settled on your shoulders instead. “I just… I want to get you somewhere safe.” He shifted his weight between his feet. “Now.”

“Here?” You lifted your brow in surprise. “Didn’t you hear what that guy said?” You shook your head at him. “Anyone here would kill you if they could.”

“But they won’t, because they can’t, and they know it.” Din tilted his helmet at you. “I told you these people aren’t fond of me, not that they’re a threat to me.” He nodded at your bruising hands. “Especially with you here to back me up.”

You began to smile at that. Din gave your shoulders a squeeze and turned away from you to continue on through the town. It wasn’t long before he found what he was looking for, a reliable source of lodging with a business owner who wouldn’t turn down any customer, not even a Mandalorian. He navigated the two of you once more to your own quarters and stepped through the threshold first only to be sure he could observe the room for threats before you followed.

As soon as the door was closed and secured behind you, Din slipped off his helmet and set it aside, his hands reaching for your face once again. This time, Din didn’t have to worry about eyes on you, and so he leaned fully into you and the bliss you two could share by pinning you between himself and the nearest wall and kissing you like his life depended on it.

Your arms wrapped around Din’s neck to keep him close as his mouth slotted over yours time and time again, his tongue lavishing praises onto you without having to speak a single word. You met his familiar rhythm with each movement, a pattern as familiar as your own heartbeat that thudded against your chest. It was a moment where the stinging in your hands faded and the worries of what Din thought dissipated completely.

He was making it clear how he felt about the situation, and you wanted to keep feeling it—at all costs.

Eventually, though, your lungs cried out for air, forcing your mouths to separate even as Din stayed close. His gaze, sparkling with affection even amidst his worry for you, found your own as he forehead rested against yours. His voice was a mere rasp from both its quietness and his lack of breath. “Thank you for defending my honor.” His thumb ran over your lips.

You smiled and kissed the pad of his thumb. “You never have to thank me for that.”

“I know.” Din returned your smile and brushed his lips against yours. “But I will anyway.” He kissed you again, but this time, he kept it brief. His concern no doubt got the best of him as he pulled away and lifted his hands to hold your wrists. He pulled them away from his neck and studied your hands, his smile transforming into a worried grimace. “Let’s take care of this.”

You continued to beam at him. “Sure.”

Din set one hand over your lower back as the other kept its gentle grasp on your wrist. He led you over to the single bed in the room, and you took your place on the edge of it, sitting just beside Din’s helmet. Din disarmed himself of his spear and jetpack before reaching into the pouch of medical supplies on his belt.

“It doesn’t hurt that bad.” You started by taking the leather off your hands, gritting your teeth to keep yourself from groaning at the way it tugged at your angry skin.

Din huffed, raising his brow in amusement as he took the pieces of leather from you and set them aside. “You’re almost as bad at lying as I am.”

You laughed at that, making room for him to sit beside you as he took one of your hands in his and started to work. Din began with your dominant hand, which was more beat-up than your other hand. You spoke to him as he worked, hoping it would ease some of the tension that knit his armored shoulders together. “How would you rate that fight?”

Din paused and looked at you with a wrinkled brow. “What do you mean?”

You offered him a mischievous smile. “I mean, how did I do?”

Din blinked at you for a moment. “How did you do?” He chuckled and shook his head, focusing on your hand again even as he responded. “Cyar’ika, he was barely conscious standing up.”

“So?” You tilted your head at him and smiled sweetly. “What do you rate it, then?”

Din smiled to himself while he traded a tube of bacta for a secure wrap. “There are no words for it.”

“Oh.” You feigned disappointment and looked away from him, your gaze settling on his empty helmet that was still nearby. “How else will you tell me your rating, then?”

Din’s gaze flickered up at you, but only for a moment. “I have ideas.” He lifted your bandaged knuckles to his lips and left a gentle kiss upon them before he exchanged that hand for your other one. “But finishing this is my priority.”

The sweet warmth of overwhelming affection and desire burned throughout your chest,and you gave yourself a few moments to recover from its powerful effects. Once you had waited long enough, you spoke in a softer voice. “Why didn’t you say anything?” When Din’s brow lifted in confusion, you elaborated. “To that guy at the cantina.”

Din sighed, his jaw tightening before he loosened it again. “You know me. I’m… not a man of many words.” He exchanged the bacta for another clean wrap. “I’ve always found that actions speak louder than words, anyway.” Din gave you an amused look. “You just beat me to it.”

You smiled to yourself. “I guess that’s what makes us a good match.”

“It’s one of many things.” Din paused to focus as he circled the wrap around your hand. “The way you can throw punches is…” Din had to stop again, but this time, his gaze raised to the ceiling as if he was summoning composure from some unknown source. You chuckled at him as he exhaled a soft breath and looked at your hand again. “It’s an advantage.”

You teased him by looking at him through your lashes, blinking them slowly as he finished with your hand and allowed his gaze to meet yours. “Yeah?”

Din lifted his hand towards his lips without breaking your shared gaze. “Yeah.” He kissed your bandaged knuckles and lowered your hand. His eyes studied it as he nodded in sudden severity. “Truly, cyar’ika, what you did… it means a lot.” He gave your hand a gentle squeeze. “I’ve never had someone fight for me like that. No one except…” He trailed off. He didn’t have to say the name.

You raised the bandaged hand he wasn’t holding to caress the side of his face. Din’s gaze met yours again, and the deep admiration within it was breathtaking—but so was the deep longing hidden behind it. When you spoke, your voice was quiet yet meaningful. “I miss him, too.”

Din closed his eyes and nodded. After a long pause, he reopened his eyes and tasked himself with putting his medical supplies back in his belt. He exchanged them for the coordinates the bartender had given him. “Knowing the covert, this probably leads to the system they’re hiding in.” Din returned to business and you met him there, nodding at him to agree with his words. “It’ll take some more work to find out exactly where they are.”

“That’s fine.” You set a hand on his cuisse as you smiled in reassurance. “I’m with you every step of the way.”

Din’s gaze drifted from your hand on his armored thigh to your own eyes as he returned your smile. “I know.” He put the coordinates back in his belt and let his expression morph into something more mischievous as he faced you again. “So.” He cleared his throat, and you giggled at his clumsiness. He was smoother than you could have ever expected at some times, but this wasn’t one of them. “About that rating.”

You laughed, lifting your bandaged hands to the sides of his face to bring him closer to you. “You can just kiss me.”

Din chuckled with you until his amused breath became your own, one action that led to a long string of others proving exactly how grateful and proud he was of your actions that day.

main masterlist • din djarin masterlist

#bar fight but make it ~reverse~ because din deserves someone to fight for him #din djarin #the mandalorian #din djarin x reader #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin fic #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian fic #dindjarindiaries

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pix3lplays · 3 months

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I just thought of something really sad but at least it ends on a happy note.

Aventurine's partner leaving him after years of being together not so much because of his job but because they don't want to burden him.

This sucks the life out of Aventurine who immediately begs them to stay. Is it because of the gifts he gave them? He'll give them better gifts! Or is it their dates? No worries, he'll take them to better restaurants! He'll do better! Just, please, don't leave him. But it's too late, they're already out the door, much to his horror and grief.

In his desperation, he tries calling and texting them to no avail. As he sits in his office like a lifeless doll, he begins to laugh but it eventually turns into sobs. He doesn't even realize he's cried himself to sleep until he woke up from a dream where you're still with him.

Poor Aventurine couldn't eat anything without feeling nauseous and has to resort to consuming meal replacements. It's not healthy at all but what was he supposed to do? He's body rejects any food that isn't yours. His stress has increased yet he couldn't rest or sleep well without you.

As the days went by, he's just a mess; unkempt hair and wardrobe, red puffy eyes with dark bags, and he looked thinner. Then, one day, he ends up passing out. As his consciousness begins to fade, he swore he could hear your voice amongst the worried IPC members.

Aventurine wakes up in his room, dressed in his pajamas when he smells a familiar smell. He immediately gets out of bed and sprints towards the kitchen. There you were in an apron, cooking several of his favorite dishes. He felt his eyes get watery and his sniffles startled you and you spun around. Before you can ask him if he's alright, his arms are already around you. He begs for you to come back to him because he couldn't bare living another day without you or your presence. After sitting down and talking for hours, you two were able to rekindle your relationship.

That night, he slept with a full stomach and a happy feeling in his chest because you were back in his arms.

Oh my gosh, Aventurine-

But this immediately got me thinking about the other characters that would be completely destroyed if you left after being with him for so many years…

Spoilers for Sunday~

-If you had been with Argenti for a long time and you suddenly decided it would be better if you went your separate ways…yeah. I think that would really throw him off his balance.

You’re gone, you’re gone…you were his everything, his Angel, and you were gone now…what is he supposed to even do?? Pursuing beauty has such little meaning without you in his life. What’s the point of gazing upon beauty without someone to share it with?

It’d be so hard to see Argenti like that. He’s usually so…bright. So full of life. But now he’s lost his luster. Anyone who once knew him can tell something’s wrong. He used to be so happy, so interested in people, and spreading the name of Beauty and Idrila but now you’re gone so what’s the point?

He’s so uncharacteristically quiet now. You left your wedding ring on your pillow when you left, and now he carries it with him, in the small hope of one day returning it to you.

-Gallagher is a MESS. You couldn’t have anticipated how much it’d really hurt him to leave but…you had to. You couldn’t handle being alone anymore, always just…waiting for him to come home.

His life kinda falls apart. He becomes a little harsher in his security guard duties. He drinks more. He still has a picture of you in his wallet.

He misses you. Misses you so much. He’s your pathetic ex-husband who’s desperate to have you back. You get a lot of voice mails and text messages, but for some reason you don’t have the heart to just…block him.

Okay maybe a controversial take but I’ll say it…Sunday is EMOTIONAL. He’s already lost one person very important to him, and he had to act like it didn’t shake him up, and now you’re leaving him, too?

He doesn’t understand. Doesnt understand why you’re doing this to him. Doesn’t understand why you must disappear too…hasn’t he already given enough? Why must you do this to him?

You just couldn’t handle him anymore.

Maybe he’ll finally break. He disappears from the public eye long enough for people to notice. For people to ask questions.

And when he finally appears again, there’s no you in sight. Something is visibly wrong with him. He’s missing feathers from his pretty wings, the deep bags under his eyes are hard to ignore…Anyone can tell he’s just TRYING to hold it together, but he’s completely alone now…how okay can he be?

Even his little “I’m back and everything’s FINE” speech sounded incredibly wrong. He’s not fine.

He misses you, he misses Robin, and it doesn’t help that the Masked Fool is constantly shapeshifting into you just to mock him.

She loves making up all sorts of reasons for why you might’ve left.

Oh he was too mean to you…he didn’t give you enough attention…you found someone better than him…

He’s never wanted to hurt someone so badly before, but how could he raise his hand against someone who looks like you…?

He will try to continue to suffer in silence…but who knows how long that’ll last before he finally breaks.

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #Aventurine #Aventurine x reader #Hsr Aventurine x reader #honkai star rail Aventurine x reader #Argenti #Argenti x reader #hsr Argenti x reader #honkai star rail Argenti x reader #Gallagher #Gallagher x reader #Hsr Gallagher x reader #honkai star rail Gallagher x reader #Sunday #Sunday x reader #Hsr Sunday x reader #honkai star rail Sunday x reader

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edenesth · 5 months

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The Way to His Heart [2]

Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 3.4k

Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.

Part 1 | Fic Masterlist | Part 3

"S-sir, are you truly certain this is acceptable? This is worse than all the previous quarters we've arranged for your past fiancées."

Seonghwa grinned in satisfaction, "What do you mean, Jongho? This is perfect. She will take what she gets. If she's so unhappy, she can go ahead and run back to her dear father for all I care."

Like all his prior marriage candidates, the general had instructed his servants to ready accommodations in the least appealing quarters available in his estate. It was all part of his strategy to intimidate and drive them away. Nothing brought him greater joy than hearing their whiny shrieks of displeasure as they fled his home, rushing back to plead with their fathers to annul the engagement.

Given he had no say in this particular wedding, his only option was to make it as unpleasant as possible, hoping to scare you away. Surely, the words of the minister's precious daughter would carry more weight with her father and, consequently, the King.

Seonghwa counted on you to bring about the downfall of this marriage, "This should be enough to get the job done. Worry not, Jongho. She'll be gone in less than a day, mark my words."

As he observed his master striding off to his study, the assistant shook his head in defeat, glancing unsurely at the preparations made for the daughter of the Minister of Military Affairs. This particular room had remained vacant since the general first assumed control of the estate from its previous owner.

The room had earned the nickname "The Cold Palace," drawing parallels to the infamous residences of China's Forbidden City, where concubines who had made mistakes or fallen out of favour with the emperor were confined until their last days.

According to tales from the previous residents, the room might have even been haunted, with rumours circulating about the previous mistress of the estate taking her own life within those walls.

Leave it to the general to be fixated on the darkest forms of torment, truly living up to his reputation. Oh, he just couldn't wait to see the look on his new wife's face when she would eventually be ushered into her very own cold palace.

"Are the preparations to the master's liking?" Eunsook, the head maid, inquired of Jongho as she emerged from the quarters after ensuring that all dusty areas had been thoroughly cleaned.

The assistant nodded, his lips pressed in a firm line, "He's more than satisfied, but..."

The elderly woman raised a brow with a knowing smile, "But?"

Jongho sighed, "Is this really right? After all, she is about to become the mistress of this estate, and having her reside here, of all places, seems a little too much."

The two could only shake their heads as they cast a final glance at the pitiful excuse for a room. Having been left untouched for decades, the furniture within was mostly rusty or broken in certain places. While it was cleaned on the surface, who knew what sort of parasites or little crawlies had already made their home there.

Despite the possibility of the new Lady Park being a spoiled brat, as the general claimed, the assistant and head maid weren't sure if she deserved this kind of treatment.

"There's nothing we can do for her, Jongho. Now, we best get back to work before anyone hears us or master will have our heads."

The younger man nodded in defeat before they went about their day, uncertain if they should even be looking forward to the arrival of their master's bride on the next day.

"Lord have mercy on her poor soul."

They couldn't fathom any more humiliation that she had to endure beyond what she already had. According to typical traditions, the bridegroom was expected to visit the bride's home with gifts and a dowry, paying respects to the bride's ancestors before escorting her back to his home.

In an attempt to appease the general and ensure the wedding proceeded, the King had agreed to forgo all customary procedures, allowing the bride to travel to his estate on her own. For some mind-boggling reason, the minister had also agreed to these conditions.

"Your Majesty, if you want me to proceed with the wedding peacefully, I will, on one condition." Seonghwa boldly asserted in the assembly where details of his wedding were being finalised.

"What is it, my boy? Anything for you." The King cooed.

The minister straightened in his seat, clenching his fists in fear of the general making any unreasonable requests.

"Please do not expect me to follow through with any of the silly traditions. I will do no such thing. On our wedding day, I will be waiting in my own estate. Minister Jang can prepare his daughter's transportation. If that is viable, I will finally be married as you so pleased, your Majesty."

The King grimaced, throwing the minister a worried glance, "Seonghwa, isn't that a little much? Think about the poor girl—"

To everyone's surprise, your father breathed a sigh of relief, "Is that all, General Park? If so, I do not see much of a problem with it. My daughter is also not a fan of flamboyant celebrations. She favours simplicity, much like yourself. I'm sure she'll be more than happy with the new arrangements."

Sure, you tell yourself that.

The general grinned into his fist, satisfied. That would make her the laughingstock of the century. The King blinked at the unexpected response but beamed regardless, "Does she now? Oh, Seonghwa, I knew she was perfect for you!"

Everyone was happy with the outcome that day, save for you, the unlucky one caught in the middle of all the crossfire, as always.

Jongho remembered how all members of the general's estate servants had been utterly flabbergasted upon learning about the final decision for the wedding plans. They had initially geared up to work tirelessly for their master's first actual wedding, prepared to pour in endless efforts for the grand celebration.

However, they were left appalled by the news. Who would have expected the minister to be alright with such conditions?

Perhaps the importance of solidifying his connection with the great General Park outweighed his concerns for his daughter's momentary embarrassment.

On the day of the wedding, Eunsook stood steadfastly behind her employer, awaiting any orders he might have for her, "Master, is there really nothing else for us to prepare?"

More than the general, nearly every servant felt uneasy due to the lack of decoration as they awaited your arrival. To an outsider, it would seem like just another regular day. Despite the wide-open doors, the estate didn't appear to have much going on at all.

Seonghwa waved her off, sipping on his tea nonchalantly, "Don't make me repeat myself again, Eunsook. This woman isn't worth any of your efforts. Remember, I pay your salary, not her."

"R-right, master." She lowered her head, knowing better than to get on his nerves.

He sighed upon noticing the unusual group of servants lining up by the main hall as if waiting to welcome some distinguished guest, "Don't you all have better things to do? You're all dismissed; get back to your daily tasks if you wish to keep your job."

Shaking like leaves, they all turned to see the head maid nodding at them, signalling for them to do as they were told. Before they angered him any further, all servants dispersed after bowing in unison at their master's direction, "Yes, master."

"Perfect. The minister did mention his daughter favoured simplicity; I'm sure she'll love this." He grinned in amusement, looking forward to the new Lady Park's reaction.

Bowing one final time to your family, you turned and never looked back. Escorted by the kind elderly servant from before, you were led to the palanquin waiting at the entrance of the Jang estate, "This is your ride to the general's estate, young miss."

Surrounded by a throng of people eager to catch a glimpse of the minister's mysterious eldest daughter, you stumbled backwards a bit, feeling overwhelmed. The onlookers were excitedly exchanging the latest gossip about the unusual wedding, where the bride was expected to travel to her new husband's home alone, without a chaperone.

Stepping out of the estate for the first time in more than a decade, you didn't know what to expect. However, this was certainly not it.

As you navigated through the crowd, you reminded yourself of the role you needed to play. Outside the familiar walls of your family estate, you were recognised as the noble eldest daughter of Minister Jang, about to marry the formidable General Park.

You were quite literally the talk of the town.

"Smile, young miss." And you did.

You put on the fakest smile you'd ever worn as you passed by the prying eyes of the onlookers on your way to the waiting vehicle.

As you settled into the palanquin, you looked up to find the servant sighing, ensuring you were comfortably seated for the journey ahead, "Goodbye, young miss. None of us have been allowed to accompany you. You're on your own from now on. Hopefully, the people there will treat you better, the way you truly deserve."

The way you deserved?

You honestly didn't know what that meant.

All your life, you have only ever been treated like a waste of space. So much so that you have begun to believe that was just how things were meant to be. The prospect of being treated with any sort of decency was, at this point, foreign to you.

Nodding, you acknowledged the harsh reality imposed by your father, "Of course, I expected just as much. Thank you, by the way, for the kindness you've shown me. You best hurry back. Don't let them catch you near me, or you'll be punished."

She gave your hand a warm squeeze, "All the best, young miss."

You returned the gesture before the bearers lifted the transport and began walking.

"Goodbye." You whispered, not only to the servant but also to this life you were about to leave behind for good.

With only a thin layer of cloth serving as a curtain on the tiny window of the palanquin, you could hear every word of gossip uttered as you made your way out of this town and to your bridegroom's.

"Oh dear, what a poor thing. Imagine being wedded to that heartless general. He isn't even courteous enough to come take her home. How long do you reckon she'd survive under his care?"

"Can you believe the minister actually agreed to this? Letting his eldest daughter marry in such an undignified way? He seems desperate to get rid of her. Do you think there could be anything wrong with her?"

"She's quite the beauty, isn't she? What a shame no amount of beauty could save her from this ill fate. You guys wanna bet how long before she gets beaten to death by that husband of hers?"

You squeezed your eyes shut, pressing your palms against your ears. You had heard more than enough back home; not only did your stepmother and stepsisters insult you for fun, but most servants were also audacious enough to speak ill of you right in front of your face. You were sick and tired of people talking about you like you weren't there.

The continuous mockery and cruelty had worn you down, and you longed for a reprieve from this life of constant torment.

Why me?

Why is it always me?

Is there really something wrong with me?

There must be a reason why the whole world was constantly out to get you. Why did your mother even give birth to you, only to leave you behind in such a cruel world? What was the point of it all?

Thousands of thoughts raced through your mind, and you wondered if the general truly was as cold-hearted as they say. You pondered what he could possibly look like. They say he was as good as the devil incarnate, but could he really be worse than your family?

You were already convinced that every member of your family was the devil's spawn; you simply couldn't imagine anyone being worse than those people.

With all these thoughts swirling around in your mind, you slowly drifted off to sleep amid your journey from one hell to another.

Your eyes snapped open as you were abruptly awakened by a knock on the palanquin, "Lady Park! We've arrived; it's time to get off. Your father did not compensate us for escorting you inside, so this is as far as our services extend."

Lady Park? Who?

Oh.

It's you.

That's your identity from now on.

Rubbing your eyes, you moved to exit the palanquin. You were perplexed to find yourself at a considerable distance from the entrance of the general's estate.

"Forgive us, ma'am. We hope you can manage the short distance to the estate on your own. We're trying to avoid meeting the general, you know how it is."

You blinked, sensing the immense terror in these men. Park Seonghwa really was something else, wasn't he? Feeling sympathy for them, you nodded, "I... I understand, thank you."

They sighed in relief, scurrying to leave as fast as they could. The reality of your situation began to sink in, and you hesitated before taking your first step towards the looming entrance of your new home. The world you once knew had changed, and you were about to step into the unknown.

As you halted by the front doors, an employee of the estate quickly recognised your outfit, presenting a wild sight – a bride wandering about like a lost sheep.

Approaching you cautiously, one of the men inquired, "Miss Jang?"

You nodded in acknowledgement, "Yes, that's me."

Bewilderment painted his face as he scanned the area, "Are you here alone? Where are your servants and palanquin bearers?"

A gulp betrayed your nervousness, and you lowered your head in shame, "I have no servants with me, and the bearers have left."

His eyes widened, "What?" Quickly regaining composure, he apologised, "M-my apologies, ma'am! My name is Jongho, and I'm General Park's trusted aide. We have been waiting for your arrival. Please, let me take you to the main hall."

At first glance, the assistant sensed you were different from all the other noblewomen he had encountered. It astonished him even more to see you standing there all alone. What in the world was happening? Was the minister aware of any of this? There was no way it could be part of his arrangement. After all, this was his daughter, wasn't it?

As you walked through the estate, you realised the deep bows from the servants were unfamiliar to you. In response, you bowed back, only to receive baffled stares. Your shoulders were hunched, and your lack of confidence was evident.

The unusual exchange did not escape Jongho's notice, and he struggled to understand your odd behaviour.

Nothing seemed to make sense to him.

What was the minister planning? Were you really the eldest daughter? Surely, they wouldn't send an imposter, and even if they did, they wouldn't be foolish enough to make it this obvious. Besides, what reason would they even have to do so? It would mean deceiving His Majesty, the King, too, as the minister had indeed promised his daughter to the general.

As you reached the main hall, the assistant had no time to dwell on such thoughts as he presented you to his master, "Sir, the minister's daughter, your bride, has arrived."

Facing the back of a rather youthful-looking man was not the sight you expected. You truly believed the rumours about him being rough and middle-aged, but now you questioned their accuracy.

"You've made it, wife. At last, you're here." He muttered emotionlessly, moving to set down the cup of tea he cradled in his hands before. The sound of his deep voice sent chills down your spine.

With that, he finally turned around, and you wondered if this was the terrifying general that all of the nation feared. You had envisioned him in various ways, but this was not what you expected.

He was... beautiful.

His features were a perfect blend of masculinity and femininity. His body, too, was ideal, slender yet muscular in all the right places. His ethereal appearance took you by surprise. He was perhaps the most enchanting person you had ever laid eyes on. Granted, you hadn't met many people, given your confined life. Still, you didn't need a broad social experience to recognise that he was a sight to behold.

"Cat got your tongue?" He questioned, a raised brow giving his stoic expression an intimidating edge. You immediately grasped why people found him so fearsome.

Feeling as though you'd committed a grave error, you lowered your head and bowed deeply, your heart beating loudly in your chest, "I-I'm sorry, my lord. I shouldn't have stared; th-that was very rude of me. I thank you for accepting me into your household. I will do my best to make myself... u-useful."

Throughout your life, your family has consistently taunted you for being useless. Now, you wished to change that narrative. If you could somehow prove your value here, perhaps you wouldn't face the same mistreatment that haunted you in your old home. After all, you had only just arrived, you didn't want to be beaten to death so soon.

What in the world?

Seonghwa was rendered momentarily speechless. Undoubtedly, you possessed a striking beauty, the kind that justified your father's decision to keep you hidden for so long. But what puzzled him was the unmistakable insecurity reflected in your posture and the uncertainty in your words.

You were nothing like any of his past fiancées, and he struggled to comprehend the reason behind it. You didn't exhibit the expected haughtiness of a noblewoman from a powerful house. Your apparent indifference to his lack of wedding preparations irked him; he wanted a reaction from you but didn't get one.

What the hell was the minister playing at? Were you intentionally trying to be different? What kind of tactic was this? If the plan was to catch him off guard, it was working very well. This won't do; he couldn't be deterred so easily.

Finally breaking his silence with a scoff, he demanded, "Really now? Useful? In what way?"

You gulped, completely unprepared to provide any sort of elaboration, "I-I..."

He smirked, "Let me guess, your script ended there?"

The accusation threw you into a panic, and you gasped, denying any insincerity, "N-no, that's not—"

Waving you off dismissively, he said, "Save it. I won't buy anything else coming from you. Eunsook, take Miss Jang to her quarters."

Oh no, he hates me already.

« Preview of Part 3 »

"Is all this for me? Are you sure?" You asked in disbelief, gazing in awe at the quarters assigned to you. It was spacious, a far cry from the cramped space that used to be your prison cell.

Eunsook bowed apologetically, "Yes, mistress. I know it might not be ideal, but the master insisted on preparing this specific room for you—"

Shaking your head, you stepped inside, "What do you mean, not ideal? No, this is more than enough. Thank you so much." The room had actual furniture and was even larger than any of your stepsisters' quarters back home. Sure, it wasn't necessarily prettier, but at least it was practical.

The head maid struggled for words as she observed you admiring the interior of The Cold Palace. Were you being sarcastic? It didn't seem like it; you appeared genuinely content. She couldn't fathom why the scene before her eyes almost felt... heartbreaking.

"R-right then, let me help you settle in. Do you have a lot of luggage waiting by the entrance?" She asked politely.

You shook your head, "I-I don't... I'm sorry, this is all I have with me." You showed her the nearly empty duffel bag in your hands, leaving her unsure how to react.

"Gosh, mistress! You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for. Please, uhh... make yourself at home. Just call out to any of the servants around the area if you need any assistance. I'll be here to alert you when dinner is ready."

"D-dinner..?" You croaked, realising you hadn't had a proper meal in who knows how long. You couldn't believe dinner was being prepared... for you. Blinking back your tears, you bowed, "Th-thank you."

"Please, mistress! You don't have to thank me; it's only my job." Panicking, Eunsook bowed even lower before hastily leaving your quarters. She needed to talk to Jongho about your peculiar behaviour. Surely, she wasn't the only one taken aback by it.

Oh my gosh, thank you for 600+ followers! I hope you enjoyed the second part! As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 1 year

Note

For a request:

Maybe a rescue fic with ghost, price, or soap? One where they rescue their non military fem s/o? I know you’ve written some already and they are so good but I EAT THEM UP EVERY TIME and love that trope so much!!!!!!

Hurt/comfort is my drug I swear

I know that’s pretty vague so maybe I’ll think of more eventually but that’s what I’ve got for now.

I love your writing!

- 🧚🏻‍♀️🧚🏻‍♀️

None Lacking Sins

Pairing: Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish x F!Reader

Synopsis: It started with the incident at the grocery store and then built to the hidden gun in the nightstand and a quick, frantic, call to your boyfriend.

Word Count: 7.4k

Warnings: Implied stalking, violence & blood, angst, protective Soap, suggestive language and conversations, implications of wanting a kid, vulgar language, fluffy banter, hurt/comfort, canon typical actions, edited in the middle of the night

A/N: I've been in a Soap mood lately, tbh. I think I'm going to flip-flop uploads for my Gaz series and Requests too...anyways. Enjoy, anon! You can never go wrong with a rescue fic!

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

You called him for the first time when you were at the store, picking out dinner and asking what he wanted for a welcome home meal.

“Well,” his sly voice made you roll your eyes, but a smile still blossomed over your lips. “If you want me to be rash, Bonnie, I’d say that I wouldn't mind a good bite out of your–”

“Johnny, you finish that sentence, you’re not going to get anything besides butter on toast. Give me a recipe before it gets dark out.” Veiled glee was obvious from your tone, and the heat on your face could all but be heard over the line. Two months apart had made you both eager to be in each other's presence.

Picking up a box of pasta, you flip it over and check the price, sticking to your budget and tilting the phone parallel to your chin. A deep chuckle meets your ears, and your chest feels light as it pierces your lungs.

Your boyfriend was off in Australia this deployment—he’d been complaining about the heat nonstop on those few and far between video calls the two of you shared. While it was a step-up to know where exactly Johnny was this go around, the prospect of his job still made you incredibly nervous. There was never a time you could remember when he came home without a new cut or scar; bruises were all but guaranteed.

Sucking down a soothing breath, you place the pasta into your cart and fix the phone’s position. The Scot was coming home in a day or so, you wanted to make him feel at home again. Destress.

You’ll see him before you know it. There’s no need to worry.

“Bit snappy, then, eh? Oh, alright.” The man huffs good-heartedly, and you hear the springs of those thin barracks-bed mattresses as his large frame shifts. Johnny lets off a soft sigh before continuing. You listen intently, leaning onto the handlebar ahead of you. “What about a nice plate ‘O that one you always make—hell—the…the one with the Pollock and cabbage.”

You blink through a laugh, shaking your head and pushing yourself off to go find the needed ingredients. The dish wasn’t easy to make, in fact, it took a helluva lot of time, but you didn’t mind in the slightest when it came to cooking for Johnny. He deserved it.

“Hey, now,” He teases, smirking to himself, “What’s so funny over there, Dearie? You makin’ fun of me?”

“I would never dream of it, oh great and wondrous, Mr. MacTavish!” You huff, fake serious, as you place a box of cookies into the cart and pass a few strangers who raise an eyebrow at your conversation. A man passes by with a blue cap on, and you swerve the cart to move around him while tossing back a frown. You soon continue on like nothing happened, pulling back the sense of security from the man over the line. “Do you want mashed potatoes with that as well? Wine?”

Johnny groans, “Hey, you’re the one that asked me!”

Divulging into giggles, you make your way around the store and stock up, holding a light conversation about how he and the rest of the boys were doing.

“Ghost told me to let you know he appreciated the book you lent him, said he’d get it back to ya as soon as he’s able.” The Scot comments, and a hum makes its way from you as you head to the self-checkout.

“Well, that’s good. I said he would like it – the bastard’s so tight-lipped about what he enjoys it was hard to nail-down a genre.” A chortle sounds off when you gather the chilled pollock and scan it; the phone was held against your shoulder to your ear. “High Fantasy for the win, I guess.”

“I should get the man to read ‘The Way of Kings’ next time—form a little book club, y’know? Get all the boys in on it like some old ladies.” It was adorable how cute Johnny sounded, like a kid on Christmas. “Stemin’ Jesus, could you picture that, Bonnie?”

“I’d pay to see you pitch that, Dear.” A cheeky tone leaks through. “Price would laugh straight into your face.”

“Please, the old man doesn’t know how to laugh….He’d just puff cigar smoke in my face and tell me to fuck off.”

“As I said—I’d pay to see it.” Your boyfriend grumbles under his breath as you place the paper bags into your cart, the contents heavy, and grab your receipt with quick fingers. “Gaz would definitely be in for it, though.”

“I don’t doubt that. Anything beats playing cards for weeks straight, aye?” Your hand can finally grip the phone once more, and you sigh contently as the strained position of your neck finally rights itself.

You’re about to answer but slow your pace with a scrunched look of confusion as you exit.

Passing through the front doors, you suddenly get a strange sensation in the back of your mind to turn around. The hairs along your arms stand up as a breeze passes the steadily chilling dark sky, but the way the shiver ran down your spine wasn’t due to cold. Lips thinning, you spare a glance over your shoulder and look along the brightly lit grocery store as its windows leave cascading rays of light over the sun-bleached concrete. The black asphalt of the parking lot is hard under your feet.

There are a handful of other patrons at the checkouts—mothers with children and others buying quick meals for dinner—but none are out of the ordinary.

You huff and roll your shoulders.

Maybe the day’s just getting to me.

“Bonnie,” Johnny’s slightly concerned voice brings you blinking back, turning your head back to the sparsely lit parking lot and realizing you had stopped walking completely. Your hand was sweaty like you’d just run somewhere. Fixing your hold on the device, your boyfriend continues, “...Everything alright? You’ve gone all quiet over there.”

“Yeah, sorry,” you laugh dismissively, trudging forward to your car, “I just got the weirdest feeling right outside the grocery store.”

The cart makes a loud rumbling sound as it goes over loose rocks and the bumpy texture of the asphalt, the metal rattling loudly so you have to strain your ears to hear Johnny’s next words.

“What kind of feeling?” His drowned-out voice was so serious that it shocked you—you’d only ever heard him use a tone like this when he had briefly talked about nightmares that had woken him up in your shared bed.

The Scot’s words were monotone, slow, and even if the sound of the cart’s wheels was raging all around you and making your skull rattle, you’d still swear you would identify that tone over a hurricane. It made your gut churn.

“Really, it’s probably nothing,” you play off with a tense shrug he can’t see, coming to a stop at your car and reaching into your pocket for your keys. “I just got a chill.”

Your eyes look around before you open the trunk, biting into your lip at the long shadows that the tall street lamps give off. Licking over your teeth, you bink dismissively and shake your head, unlocking the vehicle and huffing as you begin loading in your purchases.

“Anyways,” you try to ignore the hard build of your spine or the way your eyes travel back to the brightly lit store. There wasn’t anyone out here but you and the dead forms of cars, trees off in the distance, and far-off lights of other buildings. You swallow and clear your throat. “I was thinking about getting us a dog.”

“You’re not gettin’ out of this that—wait, did you say dog?” Across the world in a shitty bed, Johnny’s once concerned eyes widen, jaw going slack. “No way in Christ’s Hell, Dearie.”

“Oh, come on!” You groan, placing the second to last bag into the car and tuning your back to the street, throwing out your hand. “It doesn’t have to be a big dog—just one I can go on walks with and keep me company. I know you have a bad past with them, Love, but I just want someone to help not make the house so empty when you’re gone.”

Your voice slides off near the end of the sentence, and you try not to sound so sullen. Johnny frowns as he stares into the far wall of the barracks over the heads of sleeping men, itching at the back of his neck. It was no secret that the Scot wasn’t particularly fond of canines—his encounters with them were almost never pleasant unless he knew the handler.

But…

“I’ll think it over, eh, Bonnie?” He relents, sighing, and he thinks he hears snickers from a dark form in the distant corner. The Sergeant glares over at it and continues with a pang of internal guilt about how lonely you must feel most of the time. “Promise…but you’re more likely to get a cat dressed in a suit than a mangy mutt anytime soon.”

You laugh at the attempt of a lighthearted joke, closing the trunk with a roll of your eyes. A breeze goes by and your arms erupt into shivers, clothes not enough to keep out the chill.

“I’ll take it.”

“Hm, you know,” Johnny smirks, rubbing at the sleep in his eyes and grunting out huskily, “there’s another way to make sure the house won’t be all quiet when I’m gone.”

“Keep it in your pants, MacTavish. You’re not even here yet.” Smiling through the heat of your cheeks, the skin of your cheeks glows; your body rolls with heat. “Save it for tomorrow.”

“What, am I gettin’ you all worked up over there?” He hums, and you grab your cart, pushing it into one of the specific areas where someone would grab it in the morning. “‘Cause I have no problem with waitin’, Dearie, all the more perfect when I get to be with ya.’”

“You wish, handsome.” Walking back to the slight rumbling of your car, you speak through tilted lips and completely miss the form walking up beside you. “I think that—”

“Excuse me?”

Yelping, you nearly drop your phone to the floor as it slips out of your startled grip; heart jerking at the sudden intrusion into an intimate conversation. Swiftly turning around you spot the same man as before—the one with the blue cap that had passed by quite rudely in the store. His strong face looks sheepish.

Johnny quickly calls your name through the line, and you let off a reassurance before tilting the device down.

“Holy hell, man, give a girl a warning next time, yeah?” Chuckling weakly to push back tension and the twisting of your intestines, you notice the stranger’s tall frame is covered in a heavy jacket. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“Yeah, actually,” He’s not outwardly alarming to look at, the man, with his loose body gestures and controlled tone. “Sorry, but I was just wondering if you could lend me a hand. I found a kitten under a van back there,” he points, and you look over to the far corner of the parking lot. Sure enough, there was a large van surrounded by two black cars. Your eyes narrow on the scene, already getting a prickly feeling. “Do you have any food that might bring it out? Or maybe you’d be willing to reach under and grab the little bastard?”

The stranger laughs and continues with a jerking of his shoulders. You watch every movement with an upticking pulse, fingers tight over the phone as Johnny listens with growing worry.

The Sergeant's dark eyebrows pull tight, and he stands like he could run out the door to you; jaw tight and muscles wound.

“Put me on speaker.” You decline silently. Better not to get a hotheaded and protective Scot involved when he was thousands of miles away.

“Sorry,” Clearing your throat, you take a step back, attempting a friendly smile. “I have to get home to my husband.” It wasn’t the first time you’d had to use the spouse card to get away from creeps, and it won't be the last. Worked better than just the boyfriend title, honestly. And there was something about this man’s eyes that didn’t sit right with you. “Work night and all, you understand?”

“He left yet?” Johnny asks, gruff as his accent gets stronger. “Else I’m callin’ the store and sending security out to you.”

“It shouldn’t take a long time,” the man begs and you take another slow step back to the car door, pupils going tiny. Breaths shallow. “You’ll be back to your…husband, in a few minutes. I’d hate to leave the poor guy all alone.”

“Sorry.” You say again, firmer. “No.”

Not wasting any time, you open the car and jump inside, wrenching it closed once more and pressing the lock. Breathing heavily, you stick the keys into the ignition, missing a couple of times, and look into the side mirrors to spy on the tall shadow that hovers like a plague.

“Sweetheart? Hey?” Johnny calls out your name as you force the car to start driving away, face tight and limbs shaking. “Hey, are you alright?”

The man has half the sense to wake up Price, but with the stirring bodies around him, there’s half a chance the Captain already knows something’s off. Johnny hadn’t bothered to check his noise level when the uncomfortableness seeped from you over to him. What kind of a man approaches a woman near dark and asks a question like that? The action didn’t sit right with the Scot.

Johnny’s body hums with energy—volatile rage keeps his heart in a tight fist with a deep seething hatred of not being with you to help force back the freaks in person. He wasn’t above getting into someone's face if the situation called for it; after a couple of outings to less-than-nice pubs, all it took was a few nervous glances from you nowadays for him to create a barrier out of his own flesh.

“I’m okay,” you whisper to him, biting at your lips and peeling back flesh. “It’s all good. I-I’m on the road already.”

A great weight falls from the man in the form of a sigh. He slowly sits back down on the mattress, lips thinning and slightly shaking his head. His free hand comes up to rub over his cheek.

“Good. That’s good…” He snaps out of his concerned stupor quickly, but the fast beating of his heart does anything but slow. “You’re okay.”

It wasn’t worded as a question, maybe more of a reassurance, but it helped you immensely. Your tension lessened at the comforting sound of Scottish drawl and deep, silver, voice. But you wanted him to wrap his arms around you; gaze into those cerulean orbs.

Tomorrow.

“Keep on the line until I get home?” You ask feebly, not able to resist looking in the mirrors as you turn out of the parking lot.

The blue-capped stranger was still standing there, and one of the black cars in the far corner had turned its headlights on. A deep dread overtakes your ribs like you’d just gotten out of something very, very, bad. A sense of a lingering morality stays in between your ribs.

“‘Course. Wouldn’t be doin’ anything else, Bonnie.” Johnny utters, glaring at the floor. “I’ll be ‘ere the whole time.”

It wasn’t fair that he was unable to be there with you—never before had the constraints from his job hit him full strength in the chest like this. If he can’t protect the ones he loves back on the home field, then what was the point of the Task Force in the first place?

By the time you get home after taking the fastest route, you quickly gather everything from the back and shuffle inside, pulse still racing. You lock the door behind you and take a deep breath, closing your eyes.

Johnny’s soft breath over the call was like a lullaby, right in your ear as if he was beside you in bed. Oh, you missed his soft snores more than anything. Your gaze goes glossy, but the tears are held back stubbornly.

As if sensing your turmoil, your boyfriend speaks lowly.

“Y’know, I bet the rest of the boys would really love it if we kept ‘em over for a drink and a bite when we all get back. I can whip up something quick on the grill and you can take a breather, eh?” He speaks so softly it almost makes the tears worse, heart palpitating.

You wetly laugh and place a hand to your mouth, standing in the dark foyer with groceries on the floor and a primal fear slowly leaving you. The familiar scents of charcoal and birch wood from the Scots hair product are stuck into the very walls of this shared dwelling, along with the scuffs on the floor from play-wrestling during movies; a light that needed to be replaced due to Johnny accidentally running straight into it at two am. He had thought an intruder had broken in, but it was just a bird that had snuck in through an open window.

The signs of a well-lived and loved home.

“But you wanted pollock,” you grumble with a hidden smile and burning ears, pushing the tip of your shoe into the front rug.

Johnny beams and goes to lie back down, putting a hand behind his head against the pillow.

“Well, now I’m makin’ burgers. Guess you’re just going to have to sit back and watch my fabulous arse from the porch, yeah, Dearie? Don’t burn a hole into them, now, they’re the only pair I’ve got, and I know how much you like ‘em.”

“Shut up.”

“I’ll even wear that apron you got me—what was it you said it did,” the cheeky Scot smirks, all teeth and crinkled eyelids, and hears your complaints get louder as your mind flies away from what had happened almost immediately. “Made me look like I should be in a porno? Hell, if you were in it with me, I’d not complain ‘bout it. Steamin’ Jesus, I’d let you do horrible things to me, Dearie.”

From somewhere in the barracks a low groan echoes out and Johnny snaps his hand down to stifle his loud laughter as you bark at him.

“MacTavish!”

Great bouts of laughter leave everyone glaring from atop pillows and from over fingers stuffed into ears; some even get up and gather blankets, leaving the barracks room entirely.

In your foyer, your body blazes with heat like you’d been set on fire, a hand placed over your eyes and a treacherous grin on your mouth.

“Keep your voice down, you absolute arsepiece!”

“Aye—! That’s what I’m tryin’ to tell ya!”

“Johnny!”

—

The second time you called him was out of pure curiosity, only a few hours before your lover was scheduled to come home and cook for you and his Task Force. Around six o'clock.

“When was our postbox all scratched up?” Your thumb runs over the black numbers of the sequence, blinking with wrinkled skin as you take a glance at the neighbors’ and frown. No one else's was like that. “I thought you said you compromised with the local kids and would give them money for sweets so they would stop messing with our stuff?”

“Little fiends were sucking me dry!” Johnny huffs, “No way the devils would pass up more sugar and do something like that. What’s it look like, then? A few stray rocks manage to dent it?”

Your lips release a sigh and you pick up your mail with an annoyed grunt, closing and locking the cubby as you reply. “No way, it looks like someone took a knife to it.” Clicking your tongue, you shake your head. “God, things have just been going wrong lately.”

Shuffling his feet over the tarmac and hearing the plane engines die down behind him, Johnny takes a glance back. Price was standing at the top of the C17 arms crossed and head tilted—the Scot could imagine the raised eyebrow almost immediately.

He grimaces and holds up a finger, walking a few more steps away as Gaz leaves the hull with his bags slung over his shoulders.

“I can’t talk any longer, Bonnie, Price’ll wring me for not helpin’ unload the gear. He’s damn near skinnin’ me already.”

You chuckle, “Tell him I said ‘hello’ and not to damage the face.”

“Oh, you’re a horror, you are, Dearie.”

Quick declarations of love and see you soons were exchanged before the connection was cut, and your feet carried you back into the house. Your phone and the mail went to sit on the tiny hallways table, shoes tossed onto the plastic mat sitting on the floor with a small thump.

Sighing, you rub over your eyes, thinking over if it was worth calling the post office or just trying to fix the scratches yourself.

“I think we have some paint in the garage…” You trail off.

Ultimately, you just pushed that to the back burner. Johnny was coming home. Your lips peeled into a large smile, and you’re rushing off to get into a nice outfit for the rest of Task Force who was coming a bit later than your boyfriend. Thoughts of finally being able to be picked up by your boyfriend's strong arms were all-consuming, being held into a broad chest and digging your nails to the dip of his spine.

Just being able to be around the mohawked-man was a blessing that you’d never take for granted.

You settled on a nice top and casual pants—you’d met the others before, so there was no need to go overboard. Smoothing your clothes down, you enter the living room and go to open the curtains, letting the light of the interior spread to the small lawn and the street. Humming under your breath, the vehicle outside doesn’t catch your attention immediately; the black metal is just another parked entity sitting still.

When you do pause, your curtains half-opened, the delayed shock makes you lose precious time as you stare slack-jawed at one of the twin cars from yesterday at the parking lot. Your fingers clench into the fabric in a sudden moment of frozen shock. As if a mythical creature had just run past your field of view, the parting of your lips is instinctual before the widening of your eyes.

A still second passes before you’re sprinting to the front door—locking it and snatching your phone. Heart pounding, you make a dash to the bedroom, dialing Johnny with fear-tight pupils.

He had told you if there was ever an emergency to call him right away, he’d get there faster than any police officer; for the record, you believed that wholeheartedly. Johnny was more loyal than a dog in a pack, once someone raised the alarm the Sergeant was locked in.

Rushing into the bedroom, you trip over the tossed covers but right yourself as the dialing tone sounds out, heavy breathing making your lungs hurt. You open the nightstand table and dig under a collection of books, hand meeting the smooth metal of an M9 pistol.

Putting the phone on speaker, you throw it onto the mattress.

Legally, you shouldn’t even have this—while Johnny had been teaching you to shoot, you didn’t have a license for it yet. But he’d insisted on leaving you behind with something to defend yourself with.

The confused voice of your lover sounds over the open space. “Jesus, Bonnie, you miss me that much? It cannae ‘ave been more than ten minutes—”

“The car from yesterday is outside the house.” You throw the books to the floor and hear them make a clatter just as you pull out a box of ammunition. Taking out the gun’s magazine, you load bullets with a violently shaking hand. Some hit the ground with a metallic ping, but you pay little attention, just blinking back anxious tears and a harsh focus on the sounds of the front door handle being jimmied.

“I…what?” Johnny’s voice gets heavier, demanding with a snarl trapped in the back of his throat.

Standing stationary in the doorway Base—about a twenty-minute drive from home, the man’s heart suddenly jumps in his breast. Did he hear you right? Behind him, Ghost slows to a stop at the now blocked opening, watching with narrowed eyes; a large rifle slung over his shoulder and a carry bag in his arm. Johnny’s shoulders wind tight, feet parted as he suddenly turns on his heels and takes off back the way he came in, the phone still at his ear where the Lieutenant knew you were on the call.

“What the fuck?!” Ghost’s skeletal head follows after and pointedly notices the Scots lack of care for how his bags hit the ground but keeps the pistol holstered at his thigh and the combat knife strapped to his upper shoulder.

“Johnny?” He calls out, but only the wind answers him. “The hell are you off to?!” The gargantuan man sends a glance over to Price who was watching just as intently, lids narrowed. Gaz cleared his throat.

“....Shouldn’t we follow him? Sounds pretty serious.”

Price sighs, taking a moment to watch Soap sprint to the main building and shove past other soldiers and staff. He grunts.

“Move light.”

The phone call was filled with heavy breathing and hurried orders.

Your boyfriend was running you down the basics of firing at a moving target as the sound of pounding at the front door became more hurried.

“It’s not like a stationary target—when someone’s runnin’ at ya, they're gonna be moving quick and you’re not going to be able to fire if you don’t mean it!”

“Okay, okay,” you mutter with a shaky inhalation, loading the M9’s magazine and clicking off the safety. “What the hell do they want with me?” The whispered question is more for you than it is for anyone else, but the answer from the sprinting Scot startles you.

At that exact moment, the pounding of a fist stops completely.

“It doesn’t matter. You’re gonna fire at the first bastard that comes down that hallway. We’ll ask the questions later.” You hear a car door opening and a yell from Johnny’s side, soon the clammer of grunting breaths an exclamation of ‘hurry the fuck up!’

“I—”

“If you need to, leave through the window and go to the neighbors. Take cover in the foliage and slip away to the back alley.” Johnny never spoke like this to you—clipped and deathly serious. But now that you think about it, as you stay frozen and barricaded in the bedroom, if he spoke any differently you’d probably break down. “Do you copy?”

This was Sergeant MacTavish, and damn him if anything came between that man and the people he cared about.

He barks your name, “Do you copy?!”

“Yeah,” the gun shakes in your grip, but nonetheless you hold it at your hip and turn your eyes to the window. It would be easier to leave, you think. You’re not trained for this! “I–I think I’m going to—”

The front door’s window is broken with a shattering of glass. You rush to the phone and turn off the speaker, afraid that the sound would immediately tell these people where you were. Loud shouts flow into the foyer and spread like venom under the crack of the thin barrier separating you and the intruders.

“Spread out and find her!”

“Yes, Sir!”

Sir? You ask, eyes snapping this way and that as Johnny is dead silent on the other side. You think you hear the slam of a foot to the pedal, but you can’t be sure. Fuck, there was so much going on, you didn’t know what to do.

“Screw this, I’m going out the fucking window.” You gasp out, lungs tight and skin sweaty, you turn on the safety on the gun and stuff it into your belt.

One-handed, you unlatch the lock and strain your ears, hearing feet getting closer. Grunting, you shove the heavy frame up and try to stop the ringing in your ears. Whoever these people in your house were—they were professionals. They had patience; studied your intellect with the trick in the parking lot and followed you home so they could mark your postbox number as a reminder of your address. What the hell was happening?

Just as you’re about to make the small drop into the flower bed, a creak echoes from behind the bedroom door. You freeze in place, one foot dangling into the backyard.

Breathing slowly, your eyes lock to the deep shadow that spreads like two distorted poles as the large feet face the very place you’d holed up. As delicately as you’re able with an award-setting tremor in your gut, you place the phone down onto the window sill; Johnny’s loud and worried voice dims as all attention moves to self-preservation. You’re just about to reach for your gun when the door busts off its hinges.

Starling, and before your hands can find purchase, you’re tumbling backward—out of the house entirely with a stifled shout of alarm. Slamming to the ground and crushing flowers in the process, you have no time to think about the pain going up your spine or at the base of your skull before you’re scrambling for the M9.

Just as someone peeks out from the window, face covered and holding an assault rifle, you’re firing three shots in rapid succession as you don’t even remember flicking off the safety.

Two shots miss entirely, but on the last and final press of the trigger, as your arms catch the recoil, it connects.

A comment is cut short as blood explodes in a great wave of velocity, coating the house upwards almost to the shingled roof. The body slumps, weight bringing it down to hang limp over the frame.

Wide-eyed, you still hold the shaking gun in the air, muzzle smoking, breathing fast through your mouth. Had you just…

Your stomach bunched, acid traveling up your throat to pool under your tongue. Perhaps you would have thrown up at that moment, the setting reality that you’d just shot someone in the head like an anvil in your pounding skull. But the barking voices from inside the house snap you back.

Gasping down the breaths you realized you hadn’t been taking, your wobbly feet dart to shove you up like a newborn deer as sprinting bodies close in on the porch’s sliding door. God, you could only imagine what Johnny was thinking.

Bolting out of your backyard fence, you remember your lover’s orders and run as fast as you’re able to the neighbor's open yard, using the darkening sky to help cover you. Cursing under your breath and thinking over all of the ways this should have already gone wrong, you wipe at the tears cascading down your cheeks.

Don’t think about it—just get away.

It wasn’t long before you were down the alleyway, feet weak and lungs burning. There was a stickiness to the back of your scalp, blood, undoubtedly, from an injury caused by the fall.

It’s a damn miracle I didn’t break anything.

What would you have done then? Just let those people take or kill you? You shiver at the idea and force yourself to go faster. Darting around a corner, your feet skid to a quick halt.

The barrel of a gun was pointed directly at your face.

“Had a feeling you’d be slippery.” It was the voice of the man from the parking lot—the man with the blue cap. Your face jerks to an imitation of confined horror and unease at the same eyes boring into you. He was dressed in gear like the rest of the men now exiting your house to hunt you down. The stranger shifts his feet and you flinch. “Drop the gun, Sweetheart.”

“Who the fuck are you?” You find your voice, hissing out. The pistol clatters to the floor as it slips from your grip and you hate how you flinch at the sound.

“Your boyfriend and his buddies are hard to track down.” Blue Cap huffs, and the tall stature of the man makes you incredibly nervous. Backing up a step instinctually, he follows and smirks. “But I figured the best way to meet him was to find his little bird first—he’d come right to me. Cliche, I know, but you can’t fault me. Works every time.”

What did this guy want with your Johnny? Gritting your teeth, your fingers shake at your sides, hips tense and ready to run.

“He’ll kill you.” You level, not keen to show this man how disgusting you felt being near him.

He shuffles up next to you, grabbing the meat of your arm. Trying to jerk away, the barrel of his weapon is shoved into your ribs; gasping, your body goes rigid.

If your heart goes any faster, it’ll break.

“Not if I threaten to kill you first.” Forcing you forward, you glare and feel the urge to spit in the man’s face. “C’mon, hun.”

“Don’t fucking call me that, freak.”

“Ooo…fangs. Can’t be surprised, you did shoot one of my men, after all. Not a bad trigger finger, but you do need decent work on your accuracy if you wanna make anything out of it.” Your eyebrows pull in as you’re corralled back out of the alleyway, barrel bruising your skin and blood dripping down your neck. The man’s grip hurts as a strangled whimper falls from your bitten lips.

Feet scraping over concrete, you’re brought out into the street as neighbors peak out of windows with drawn curtains; phones to their faces. Did these intruders not care about the police? If anything, that made you sweat more.

“Ride’s waiting.”

“I’m not getting into that.” Grunting, your eyes are stuck on the black void of the car parked in the street. A menagerie of other armed men stands all over. “Hell no—you can just shoot me now if that’s the case.”

“Don’t tempt me, I can still go after the Sergeant’s dear old mom,” your lungs chill as the man chuckles to himself, looking down at you through dark lashes. “He has a cousin, too, am I right?”

Rageful tears spark behind your lids as you blink.

No way it was going to go like this. Where’s Johnny?

The gun was taken from your ribs as you’re shoved forward.

“Get in. Now. We’re already behind schedule.” You stare into the interior and clench your fists, lips quivering but jaw clenched. Your Lover’s voice comes to you, sure of himself and laced with stubbornness.

If you’re ever in trouble, you wait for me, Dearie. I’ll be there ‘fore you know it, ready to defend your honor like the knight in shinin’ armor I am, eh? Why are you laughing…?

Turning back around with every ounce of courage you can muster, you splay your feet and cross your arms.

“No.” The gun is raised to your head, and you want to flinch back in terror but restrain yourself.

“Get in.”

“No.” How your voice wasn’t breaking was a question in and of itself, but Johnny had always said you were stubborn like him. Best time to prove him right was with a barrel to your face, apparently.

The stranger’s eyes light with anger, hands clenching over the body of the weapon as the rest of his men stare on in shock. A growl meets air.

“I’m not asking for a third time, Sweetheart—” One loud boom later and you’re ducking down with your hands over your head, ears ringing and body unsteady; a great weight hits the ground right next to you.

The sound of gunfire rattles the world all around the once quiet street, and you think that you and your Lover will have to move after this. No way the neighbors could let all this slide. Looking up, your eyes jump from the corpse spasming near you to the running men, chaos breeding in the lines between shouts and dropping bodies.

A hand latches into your waist, and you’re being lifted into strong arms moments later. Squealing, your head snaps to the size and meets cerulean blue inlaid in a strong brow line.

“I’ve got ya.” Your body loses all tension at the accent that you would know anywhere, even in death, a strong grip picking you up and keeping you close to his broad chest.

Johnny carries you away in the midst of battle as the rest of the 141 get involved, making quick work of the remaining men. Breathing in his scent, you force your face under his chin, feeling the stubble scrape as your fingers dig into flesh.

He’s here. He’s—he’s right here.

“Don’t worry, Dearie, I’m right here. It’s nearly over, now.” You try to bring him closer as he takes cover behind a wall, pressing his shoulders against the grating stone as he shields you closer to him. Sliding down to the ground.

His eyes snap back and forth, heart rapid. God, he was nearly too late. Johnny presses his nose into your hair as he breathes deeply, watching bodies fall and feeling you shake. Feeling you shiver; now finally able to let everything sink in.

“Shh,” the Scot mutters, pressing you closer as you whisper his name in a hoarse breath. “You’re alright. I’m ‘ere, Bonnie, I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.” His hands filter over your skin, checking for injuries and feeling over growing bumps from under-the-skin abrasions.

His teeth clench together in hate, hotheadedness taking over for a moment as part of him wants to rush out and pick a few of these bastards off himself. But it’s just not that simple.

Looking out into the street with serious eyes, the radio attached to his vest sounds off as the last of the firefight ends almost as quickly as it began.

“Clear.” It was Price. “How is she?”

Johnny sighs, looking down at you in his hold as he whispers comforting words in quick succession.

“Shaken, but alright…” The reply is muttered as you sniffle, your fingers going to wipe away tears. “She’s—she’s alright.”

Johnny beats you to it as he tries to calm down, large digits tilting your head to the side and studying intently as he swipes them away with a firm thumb and a careful frown.

“Johnny—” Your eyes stay locked on him as the Scot gets rid of any trace of fear or sadness, calluses burning your skin just as they always did. His gaze flickers to you; lips pulling tight. None of you choose to move, too content with being this close to one another and safe, even if the situation was serious. “I…”

You trail, not even knowing what to say as the wetness of your eyes blurs your vision, body hot, and the back of your skull aching. Your hands go to cup his cheeks. It’s all the words he needs.

Eyes soft, the Sergeant attempts a weak and worried smile. “I’m so proud of you, Dearie, y’know that? So damn proud.” Your lips quirk, a strained laugh echoing out. A finger pokes the side of your nose. “Hey, I’m serious now. Stop your foolin'.”

Johnny’s fingers run deep circles into your temples as you trace the lines of his cheeks.

“Shut up.” You huff, straining against a wide smile. It was easy to push all of this behind you when you were looking at him. He made everything better.

“Hm,” He moves forward and presses his lips to your forehead, quickly going to lay kisses all over your face until giggles spill out from the alleyway to the waiting three.

Gaz smiles to himself, Price grunts lightly, and Ghost gazes off.

“I’ll just have to prove to my Bonnie Little Lady that she’s a prime piece of work, then, eh? Smarter; more quick than a fuckin’ recon team,” he leans close and you have to try and shove him away playfully when he starts to squish you against him. Your laughter grows as his scratchy chin nuzzles your neck. “And don’t mind me sayin’ now, but a proper fine pair of tits and arse to go along with the brains of ya, Dearie.”

“MacTavish!” you squeal, “I should call your mother up and explain how you speak to me—that’s vulgar! I know for a fact she didn’t teach you that.”

“Teach me? Oh, now, then, no one could teach me a thing when you’re around. Cannae think a bit; better off talkin’ to a pile of stone.” You punch his solid chest and laugh so hard your face hurts, breath fanning against his neck as his roaming praise continues as if his mind was a bag of water punctured by a knife. “I’m always thinkin’ ‘bout you, my Little Bonnie.”

The last sentence is quietly muttered into your temple, a kiss pressed tight. He pulls back slightly and feels at the dried blood on your locks, fingers separating to find the scalp. Johnny’s chest rattles in a sigh, hand shaking slightly when he sees it.

He’d also seen the body on the window sill, though he knows not to mention it.

Christ, you’d had to kill someone.

The prospect of taking a life was easy to the Scot—some days he felt like he had been born and bred to do just that. It became simple. Elementary. Like his mother could memorize a recipe, he could memorize the position of arteries; what shot to take at that instant, and which to wait on based only on past missions that resonated like past lives.

But for you…

Oh, it was never supposed to happen to you.

“Are you alright?” Johnny breaths, humor gone and left with guilt.

He feels your lips on his raging pulse and lets his eyes close, content to feel you move against him as your head remains in his neck. Shifting his body into a more comfortable position, he cages you in protectively. Never again would he allow this to happen.

“I shot someone.” The man’s lips quivered, heart hurting at the blatant shock in your voice. It hadn’t hit you yet, and, hell, Johnny still remembered his first kill like it was yesterday. It wouldn’t be good when all this calmed down. He’d thrown up for two days straight, himself.

“Aye.” He breathes.

“His blood’s all over the house.”

“It is.”

“Is…is that,” you’re shivering, so he massages your spine soothingly until you find the words. “Is that a good thing?”

He should say no, tell you that the situation that you’d been put in was never supposed to happen and it was just an unfortunate reality. Death wasn’t a good thing, per se. But the man had broken into your shared home—busted down the bedroom door with the intent of using you as a bargaining chip to get to him. So, to the Scot, the answer is clear.

No one messed with his family and lived.

“Yes.” Taking down the air of a dusty alleyway as sirens wail a street over, you weren't surprised that your boyfriend had managed to get to your home far faster than the police could. He said he always would, didn’t he?

The bills for the speeding tickets and the running of red lights were going to be atrocious.

“Okay.” Your answer is muttered as you peel back, pressing a kiss to the corner of Johnny’s lips. You believed him. Always would. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me.” His bright teeth show off a smile as your mirror. He kisses you heavily on the lips. Whispers against your lips, a promise. A vow. “As long as you put up with me, I’ll always keep you safe.”

“Soap,” Price yells, snapping the two of you out of it. “Get on with it!”

The Scot raises a shocked brow and smirks down at you as you tilt your head and listen in happy confusion.

“Y’know, those shots weren't half bad back there. ‘Specially after takin’ a tumble into the flowers.” Your expression freezes in denial as you’re lifted bridal style into the air. Speaking over the calls of police and firemen as they come to the scene, your voice monotones as your legs swing.

“...I missed two out of the three, you dork. That’s failing.” Johnny gapes in mock surprise and you refrain from snorting at the boyish glint in his eyes.

“Jesus, is it really? Hell, you’ll be comin’ for my job in no time, won’t ya? That’s one better than me!”

You kiss him and feel the grunt through your lips.

TAGS ||

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nerdofspades · 1 year

Text

Bruce looked at the pop-up on the Batcomputer's screen.

"Explain," he growled, glancing down at Tim.

"Not much to explain," Tim answered, pulling up lines of code. "It showed up ten seconds ago."

"I'm starting a full diagnostic," Barbara said, voice filtering through the speakers. "So far, I'm not seeing anything."

"And yet..." Time trailed off glancing at the window again. It had a video queued up to play and the words "IMPORTANT: PLEASE WATCH. DO NOT DELETE" in large text at the top.

"There's a new folder labeled 'a gift for Batman,'" Tim said. "Not something any of us made."

"Clearly."

"I'm still not finding any viruses, corrupted files, or spyware," Oracle said. "The new folder was programmed to stay in a hidden partition for a few days after it was placed. Then, obviously, the pop-up to catch our attention."

"Folder also has a text file named 'security notes,'" Tim said. "Maybe our new hacker is friendly?"

"It's starting to look like it," Oracle agreed. "The video is clean. It should be safe to watch."

Bruce sighed. "Then let's see what they've got for us."

The video opened with a dark room. The background hidden in shadows, while the foreground was well lit, letting them clearly see the tired teen in the center of the frame as he took a heavy swig from his mug before putting it down.

"Pulling up facial recognition."

He ran a hand through his messy black hair and then down his face, pinching his nose and hiding the bags under his blues eyes for a moment before he dropped his hand and finally looked at the camera.

"I really don't want to do this," he said, "but you need it." He glanced longingly off screen in the direction of the mug he'd put down.

"First of all, I think I should apologize for hacking you. Or asking my friend to, technically. I just. You need to know about this and I didn't know of another way to get it to you that would be secure.

"I did at least make him promise to make a record of how he got in so you can patch that.

"That out of the way... to business? I'm Danny Fenton, for the last year or so I have also been the hero Phantom in Amity Park. My parents are Jack and Maddie Fenton. They are ectobiologists and ghost hunters. While extremely biased and not actually that good at catching ghosts, their tech is easily the best in the business."

"That's a positive match."

"Running a search on Phantom."

"I- fucking shit." Danny put his head in his hands again, running them back through his hair before leaning back, almost collapsing into the chair.

"This kid has... gotten into some shit."

"Everyone knows you're the League's strategist, Batman. And. I'm strong enough. I can handle my problems, that's not what I'm worried about.

"It's been about a year and I've already been mind controlled once." Danny laughed. A dry, broken, almost desperate laugh. "And that was just some lowlife that wanted to rob jewelry stores. I'm still not worried about. It's not why I'm sending you this. The magic relic he used is broken and gone now."

"Well that explains one of his problems."

"The others?"

"An attempted kidnapping and fairly standard property damage. I want to see some footage of those fights before passing judgement."

"Even more standard given he doesn't seem to have a mentor. Batman, he was fourteen."

"No. I. I've seen a version of the future. One where I go mad. Where I snap. And the Justice League can't stop me.

"I don't know if I- he kills everyone. I don't know who, if anyone, makes it out. But it's not anyone that could really do much. I... I saw ten years after he- I snapped. Earth was little more than rubble and ash. Only one city was left holding out and it was about to fall- was falling when I got there.

"I've managed to change the time line. What broke him didn't happen here. But. I can't guarantee nothing ever could.

"So. Yeah. Next best thing is making sure you're prepared. All my powers. All my weaknesses. Everything I know of that could possibly hurt me. Schematics and blue prints for anything you could need to fight me, track me, keep me out, keep me contained. All nice and giftwrapped for your convenience.

"Uh... that's everything. Why is it always so awkward to end a video? Hopefully we never see each other? I guess? Pretty sure us actually meeting is gonna be a bad sign.

"You know what. I'm gonna turn this thing off now before I say something stupid."

"Batman, who's 'Phantom'?" Superman asked, glancing up from the Watchtower computer he was working at. "Aren't we supposed to vote on new members?"

Batman grunted. "He's not a member, just someone who understands the need for contingencies."

"You know what, I'm not gonna even ask."

"Probably for the best."

#dp x dc #bruce wayne #batman #danny phantom #dc #batman's contingincies #tim drake #barbara gordon

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americaswritings · 6 months

Text

When we stole the night

Warnings: violence, mentions of killing, Coriolanus being himself, his thoughts, mix of book/film elements

Summary: When Coriolanus is send into the arena to get Sejanus he doesn't make it out and has to hide in the tunnels. That is where he finds you, his tribute.

Words: 3.2k

Pairing: Young Coriolanus Snow x reader

Masterlist | Hunger Games Masterlist | Add yourself to my taglist!

Coriolanus was running.

He was surrounded by darkness, the light in front of him where the peacekeepers secured the gate the only source of light apart from the dim moonshine.

Hundreds of thoughts were running through his head, at the top of them images of killing the boy, but he pushed them away.

Buried the anger and resentment he felt towards Sejanus, who had roped him into this situation just because he felt guilty for Marcus’s death and couldn’t move on from his life at the district.

Fear and the panic of suddenly becoming prey clouded his mind and he could barely think straight as he ran for his life. Something sizzled through the air next to him, so close to his ear that he stumbled in shock and lost his footing for a moment.

But he didn’t dare to look who had thrown the weapon, could only hope that it had been their only one as he tried to find his pace again.

His leg was burning, a pain he tried to ignore but slowed him down drastically as he attempted to catch up with Sejanus, who was at the gate now.

Despite the immediate medical attention Coriolanus had received when he had gotten injured during the bombing attack from the rebels, there had been too little time for the wound to heal and with every step he took he was slowing down.

It was only a matter of time until they got to him.

The adrenaline was pulsing through his veins as he heard Sejanus yell his name. Breaking out of his narrow focus for the gate he looked up just in time to see Coral launch an attack at him. He ducked, stumbling as his bad leg gave in and he almost fell.

Turning, he saw that Sejanus was already halfway through the gate. The boy hesitated and for a moment it looked as if he would come back for him and Coriolanus felt relief flooding his body, but one of the peacekeepers grabbed him by the upper arm and dragged him behind the gate before he could.

Then the gate closed. Locking him in the arena with the tributes.

Coriolanus had no time to wrap his head around what had just happened, because he had to dodge another one of the girl‘s attacks. Soon the other two of her little murder gang would have reached him and he would stand no chance again them.

They would kill him.

He would die. In the arena. By the hands of tributes.

Alone.

The Capitol would spin a pretty story about his death like they had done when Clemensia had been in the hospital after the snake bite and no one would ever know the truth about what had happened to him.

Except Sejanus.

But his father would use their money to propitiate the Capitol and effectively silence his son and Tigris and the Grandma'am would never find out why he had never made it home.

He couldn‘t imagine a more undignified death.

So he ran. Not towards the gate, but in the opposite direction, away from his chance at freedom and into the shadows.

Coral and the others had not expected his move and it gave him a head start to make it into the tunnels and disappear.

He knew they would follow him, so he kept running, sliding down rubble, rounding a corner and hiding in a niche. Then he held his breath and waited.

If he was lucky and they didn‘t find him here, he could wait until he was certain they were away far enough and try to make it to the gate.

But Coral and her gang weren‘t the only ones he needed to worry about and he pressed himself farther against the wall when he heard a pair of footsteps approach.

It was Reaper.

Coriolanus waited for him to pass. He wouldn’t try to engage another tribute, not if he could prevent it. Better if less of them knew he was here.

Although it wasn’t like their knowledge would pose any danger to him once he was out. Only one of them would get out of here alive, the rest would take his secret to their graves and he would damn well make sure it was you.

You.

Coriolanus blinked and took a breath. You were here, somewhere.

No, he couldn‘t get to you. It was stupid to try and find you. He needed to get out of here as fast as possible, not waste precious chances to do…what?

See you? Make sure you were okay? There was nothing he could do to help you here and now and his presence only drew more attention towards you.

He thought back to the promise he had given you just last night, to do everything to keep you safe and get you out alive.

It was still true, but although he had felt helpless in his seat watching you fight and run for your life on the screen, he now missed that front row seat. He couldn‘t do anything here for you without risking his own life as well and that had never been on the table before.

And what if the day in the arena had changed you?

What if you would turn on him just like the others had? Tribute rather than friend, lover, whatever this connection between you was.

Just minutes - or had it been an hour already? - had turned him into a killer. He had killed a boy. Bobbin, he remembered his name was.

Had the arena done that to him or had that always been inside of him and it was true that the arena only awoke what was trapped inside everyone?

Shaking his head Coriolanus pushed the thoughts away. He couldn‘t allow himself to go mad. With each minute passing his chances to leave the arena alive and unharmed lowered and he could visibly imagine Dr. Gaul writing him off as she fed her snakes.

No.

He would get out of here, alive. Whatever it took.

Getting up from his crouched position Coriolanus stretched his aching limbs before crawling out of his hiding space. He didn‘t know if it was safe yet, but he couldn‘t wait longer.

He would take the leap of faith.

Every step he took echoed twice as loud through the tunnels and he had to force himself to take even breaths. He hadn‘t realised how far he had run into the tunnels and he felt his hopelessness grow when there was no sight of an exit.

When he rounded another corner he suddenly heard a noise. It was right behind him and as he spun around he could only think of what a waste his death was. What a tragedy.

“Coriolanus?!“

Your voice echoed loudly, even though you had barely more than whispered. He was frozen, his eyes locked on yours as shock faded into relief.

He wouldn‘t die. At least not now.

“What are you doing here?“ your voice rose and you took a step closer, your eyes squinted in the darkness as they searched his face.

His raked over yours and then your body as well. Your clothes were dirt stained and your face was a little bruised but apart from it you seemed unscathed.

He had believed so, but seeing it with his own eyes brought him a different kind of reassurance.

“I uhm“, he stumbled over his words, struggling to retain composure. You looked at him expectantly, your eyes wide and curious.

But Coriolanus hesitated. Could he tell you the truth? Could he still trust you?

When he swallowed and furrowed his brows you grabbed his arm. “Tell me later. We need to find a better hiding spot. I heard you a mile away and if I did, I am sure others did too.“

He nodded, glad that he didn‘t have to explain himself just yet and earn a few more minutes to think of what he could tell you.

Your hand was still wrapped around his arm as you turned and guided him through the dark and it slid downwards, reaching his hand and locking your fingers. Coriolanus wouldn‘t admit it, but the touch relieved his unease a little. It felt good to know you were here and guiding him, that he wasn’t alone anymore.

He didn‘t know if he could still trust you, but he wanted to and despite a warning voice in the back of his head a part of him did.

Only yesterday he had cupped your face and whispered promises in your ear and he refused to believe you weren‘t that girl anymore until you showed him otherwise.

You led him around a few corners until you stopped, climbing through a little opening between the rubble. He watched you disappear in the hole, crouching down to inspect it.

It was small and he was much taller than you, but then your face appeared at the other side and you waved at him with a confident smile. What good of a mentor was he if he hesitated now?

It was a struggle to get inside and he painfully hit his knees, shoulders and head a few times, but at least it would keep larger opponents outside.

And if anyone wanted to get in you would hear them and kill them before they even got the chance to raise their own weapon. It was the perfect hiding spot.

Maybe he could just wait this out, he thought. The other tributes could kill each other while he sat here with you until the rescue team would show up and get you out.

But that was too good a fantasy.

He knew that the Capitol didn‘t have any cameras in the tunnels, so no one would know he was here with you, but his absence wouldn‘t go unnoticed and he doubted they would crown you the victor, if he stayed with you.

None of the other mentors were in the position he was currently in and although Coriolanus couldn‘t find any benefit of his miserable situation he could easily imagine the capitol and his classmates arguing that it was an unfair advantage.

As if he had volunteered to be sent into an arena full of tributes that were out to kill each other, but probably unite over the idea of killing him, someone from the capitol.

And what about you then? Would you stick to his side or abandon him for your own sake?

Or worse, what if you betrayed him?

It would earn you the sympathy of the other tributes for certain, something that could be the defining factor of your survival. But would you be so calculating, so cruel and betray your own mentor?

He watched you slide down next to a wall and you hugged your knees in, probably to keep yourself warm. He wasn’t feeling cold, but he hadn‘t been in here for as long.

Looking up at him standing there you patted the space next to you, letting out a mixture between an amused and bitter laugh as you saw his hesitation. “Come one, I won‘t bite and I swear I don‘t have rabies.“

He grimaced slightly as he thought of Jessup‘s death and how he had hunted you through the arena. It hadn‘t been so long ago and yet it felt like ages considering how much had happened since then.

Deciding it wasn‘t likely that you had waited this long and brought him here only for you to try and kill him now Coriolanus closed the distance and took a seat next to you.

He stretched out his long legs, glad to finally keep the weight off of his bad leg.

“So“, you began and he noticed your gaze on him from the periphery of his vision, “you never told me why you‘re here. I‘m mean, not that I am complaining. It‘s nice to have some company, especially such lovely one, but it‘s a little…unexpected.��

He noted your hint of flirtation with a smile. It made him feel more in control and fuelled his hope that the girl he had said goodbye too wasn’t gone. “For me too“, he stated, turning his head so he could look at you.

He didn‘t know if he could trust you, but here in the arena you were his best chance of survival. And as your mentor he could help you more from the outside, so you had an interest on keeping him alive and get him out of here too.

Besides, he wanted to trust you. And he hoped you had more than your own motifs in mind when it came to his survival.

“Dr. Gaul sent me here.“ He decided to tell you the truth. “Sejanus bribed the peacekeepers to let him in here. He wanted to scatter breadcrumbs or something for Marcus. It‘s a ritual they have in his district.“

He tried to keep his voice neutral, but you knew him well enough by now to hear the hint of dismay in it.

“I think that‘s brave of him“, you said after a moment of silence and when he furrowed his brows he realised you had been testing how you would react to his words.

“But also stupid“, you continued, “I doubt the capitol is going to let anyone see it.“

He sighed. “They don’t. They froze the frame and his father will make sure he won‘t say a word about it.“

“So he got out?“ Coriolanus nodded, the image of the gate closing behind Sejanus back in his head. “He did.“

“But you didn’t.“ He closed his eyes for a moment, leaning his head against the wall. “How come they sent you? Why not just their thugs?“

“They figured he would just make a run for it, if he saw them. And then they would have a much harder job at containing him and keeping the public from knowing.“

He pressed his lips into a thin line. “And because apparently everyone thinks Sejanus and I are best friends I was the lucky one to get the job.“

When he opened his eyes yours were focused on his face and he realised how close you were sitting. “You‘re not? Friends, I mean.“

He pushed out a breath and pinched the space between his brows. “He lived here for years now, but he still acts and thinks like district.“

He practically spit out the word and you shuffled away from him a little. “I am district, Coriolanus“, you reminded him, trying to hide your hurt but failing. “You think you‘re too good to be friends with us?“

He bit his lip, frustrated at himself for his mistake. This slip-up. He hadn‘t meant it that way. You were different…

You had just been born at the wrong place.

Yeah, the more he thought about it, the more he could see it, you as a part of the capitol. With less mud and stains of course. And a class on etiquette to get the district out of your system. Tigris would make the most enchanting dresses for you and every man and woman would bow their heads when the two of you emerged. A Snow and a victor.

“I didn’t mean it-”, he began, but you shook your head, cutting him off.

“I think I know exactly what you meant.“

Silence settled between you and it felt uncomfortable and heavy.

“You think you‘re better than us. Just because you were born here and not there and you’re wearing that uniform doesn‘t mean your life‘s worth more than ours“, you stated after a while and he swallowed.

“I know.“

Did he?

“Do you?“

“I killed someone today.“

You inhaled and he saw you were staring at his face with undivided attention, but he couldn’t bring himself to look at you. Staring at the wall in front of him he continued. “He was just a boy. Bobbin, I think his name was?“

He dared a glance towards you for confirmation and you nodded. Your face was a carefully composed mask of guardedness and he quickly looked away again.

“I didn‘t want to hurt him, but he attacked me. I didn’t have a choice. I had to kill him.“

Coriolanus wondered how he looked to you now; his red university uniform creased and filthy, hiding in a cave and fighting the tears as he confessed his sins.

“Hey“, you reached out and gently touched his chin to turn his head to you. “You did what you had to do.“

His eyes found yours and he seeked your reassurance, clinging to it like a lifeline.

“It was horrible. But-”, he cleared his throat, preparing himself for his next revelation, “it also made me feel powerful.“

You took a sharp breath, fear and uncertainty dancing across your eyes until you won back your composure.

“We all do things in here that we‘re not proud of.“

He had feared your judgement. Had feared that you would turn your back on him now that he had exposed this dark part of him, but instead there was understanding in your eyes.

And he knew you would never betray him. You could have left but you were still here. Still with him.

“So what‘s your plan now?“

You studied his face, but you looked tired and even though his own exhaustion was wearing him down he thought about offering to stay awake and keep an eye out so you could rest.

“I need to get out of here“, he said simply, because it was the only thing he was sure of. You nodded, but he caught the hint of disappointment on your face.

He should leave now, use the last hours of the night and get out of this hellhole and back to his own, safe walls.

But he couldn‘t bring himself to get up and risk his life again. Not when he finally had a moment to relax after the last hours had been nothing but stressful and not when this could be the last time he saw you.

The last time and the first time you two had for yourselves, without cameras watching you or anyone questioning your connection.

“Yeah, that makes sense“, you agreed, but he heard the strain in your voice. You were exhausted and worn down from the constant fear, the terror and the need to keep one eye open at all times.

“But…that can wait a little.“

You furrowed your brows. “Are you sure? Aren‘t they going to be suspicious, if you don‘t get back soon?“

He shrugged. “I am just going to tell them the truth. That I got attacked and had to hide.“

“And you won‘t get in trouble?“

He was almost touched by your concern, but decided to conceal it with amusement. When you noticed his look you rolled your eyes. “I was just checking, because I need my mentor to get me out of here alive. I can‘t have him rot in chains somewhere.“

“Right”, he nodded with a smile, but quickly grew serious again. “They are the ones who got me here in the first place so I doubt they get to have a say in how or when I make it out.“

“Thank you.“ Your voice was barely above a whisper and he drew you close, his hand gently moving up and down your arm.

Coriolanus couldn‘t do much for you. But he could stay now, pull your body close to his to provide you with warmth and stop your shivers and let you rest.

Even if it was just for a night, he would be there for you.

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scribble-dribble-writes · 11 months

Text

When the night calls

---

Pairing: Miguel o'hara x female reader

Word count: 1800

Warnings: none

Content: hehe angst, love sick soft Miguel 🥹😌

---

When the moon rises, so does your alternate life. The one you’ve kept hidden, the one that could cause damage and let people know of your weakness. Being a superhero meant having no loose ends, strings that you could get caught by, so in a life that was deemed for you to be lonely in, you had found a way out of it.

You evaded the street scanners and cameras as you scaled the building, your fingers itching to get to a specific balcony. The lights were out, it looked like no one was there but that was all part of the illusion. To distract and keep wandering eyes at bay.

Your feet touched the cold floor of the veranda and swiftly moved towards the sliding door to see if it was open. It was a sign, if it was locked, he wasn’t home. And if it slid open like now, it meant he was waiting for you. A web of secrecy. You both preferred it this way, away from all the attention, atleast you did. But with how busy he was with keeping watch over the multiverse, these rendezvous got a lot less frequent.

Sure, you saw him around HQ or worked on a couple missions together but it never amounted to how he let you see him during these nights. His tenderness and whispers, the sound of his bare feet padding across to the bedroom, his time in the kitchen as he made dinner with his headphones on utterly lost in his own world. Nothing could be more precious.

The moment you entered the premise, you felt your wrist get caught in the hold of his arms. You didn’t protest as he led you in deeper, away from the dark and into the candlelit room. You knew you were late and during these days, he didn’t like to be left alone. You were feeling his touch for the first time in weeks, you would pass by in corridors without as much a glance or a faint trace of your fingers. So to feel his warmth sink into your bones felt intoxicating.

Having concluded you were in a safe space, he spun you around to face him, his eyes taking in every glimpse of you, his fingers shooting up to the edge of your mask to softly remove it, he was tired of all these layers of security you had established within this relationship.

His gaze finding yours in the dim light and the thirst in it meant he wanted more. He pulled you close as mumbled in Spanish, frustrated he couldn't get enough of you, to pull down the zipper of your suit, removing it from your body as though he was allergic to latex. To then wrap his arms around you as if that was the only covering allowed, when your skin was free from being trapped and free for his hands to roam about. You rested your head on his chest, his white tank top smelling fresh with the scent of his cologne mixed with laundry detergent.

The mundane and ordinary seemed more exotic and addicting than this little stunt you both were pulling off.

“You’ve grown impatient.”, you hummed.

“No more games to play?”, you chuckled to which he grumbled.

“You’re the one playing games, I’m clear as to what I want.”, he spoke into your ear.

You pursed your lips, his fingers digging into your hips telling you in gestures how he didn’t want to be fed scraps of attention.

“You were the one who suggested this… this setup.”, you pushed away from him to catch his gaze. His arms not letting you go out his hold.

“And now when I want it to end, you keep it going.”, his eyes narrowed down on you, the candle light giving him a golden glow.

“porqué es eso?”, he leaned closer, his lips almost on yours. But you tilted your head, causing his lips to land on your cheek.

What should have been a fun night was already turning into an argument.

“Because…”, you couldn’t meet his worrying gaze, his tender eyes had a way of undoing your heart.

“If we stop this, then what are we?”, you bit back what you wanted to say and instead asked him a question in return.

He was thinking through his answer, you could tell by the way his brows furrowed but when he met your gaze, he didn’t give you an answer either.

“Exactly.”, you got out of his hold because he let you go.

Picking up your suit that laid on the floor, you made your way towards the bathroom. A warm shower felt better than continuing this conversation. But to your surprise he trailed behind you, his large frame blocking the doorway as he leaned on it.

“We’re friends, Miguel. This is all there is to offer.”, you said looking into the mirror as you tied your hair up.

“We’re more than that, amor.”, he said with certainty.

“Don’t tell me you’ve gone and fallen in love with me.”, you laughed but he didn’t.

“And what if I have?”, he asked which made you pause as you reached for the face wash.

Your throat ran dry, all your worst fears were coming true, this setup with him worked well because deep down you both had lost your families. You lost your fiance to a freak accident much like how he had lost his home.

So this deep rooted fear never left your system, that if you began to enjoy your life, it would be ripped away from you.

“What do you want me to say to that?”, you shook it off, continuing to set up for your shower.

“I want you to tell me why you keep fighting this?”, he held a towel out for you and with every small gesture it was beginning to get difficult.

Difficult to lie to him, difficult to not confess that you loved him. But, his honey glazed eyes were on you, the fear, the anxiety, losing him would be..

You didn’t want to finish that thought because even thinking about it would lead to another heartbreak, one you weren’t strong enough to survive.

You couldn’t answer him either, you turned away taking the towel and pulled the shower curtain to a close. Maybe if you turn on the water, you could cry in peace, without leaving evidence. But it was clear that nothing was going to stop him, he peeled away the screen to join you as he got out of his clothes.

His eyes softening seeing your hurt expression, his hands slipping onto your waist again to pull you close, that his constant need to touch was somehow to reassure himself that he had hope to save this relationship, resting his head on yours the water cascaded over you both in an attempt to wash away all the distress.

“What are you so scared off?”, he placed a kiss on your forehead.

“How aren’t you afraid?”, you sobbed, his calm voice working it's way into your soul.

“We’ve both loved and lost it all.”, you wrapped your arms around him, like he was the anchor to your storm.

“How are you so sure about this?”, you questioned him, his hand traced up the curve of your waist reassuring you of his presence. That he was here no matter how heavy your grief was.

“Because its you.”, he said confidently and you braced yourself to look up at him, his eyes warm and sure.

“You’re worth the risk, mi vida.”, he wiped the water droplets on your cheeks but only you knew that he had seen the invisible tears.

Here in his arms, here in the myrrh of his words, it felt safe and secure. That this was truly possible, loving each other and living to see where it went, to hold onto him forever.

“But you don’t seem to miss me as much as I miss you.”, he confided in you, the thoughts that he had held back had now come up to the surface.

“You don’t answer my calls, you don’t let me in.”, he continued, communicating his hurt, hurt that you had caused and now you couldn’t hold back either. You placed your hand on his jaw and watched him lean into it.

“Now I can’t sleep, I can’t work, you’re always on my mind. Making me constantly worry about finding us a cure.”, you see the pain in his eyes and you were angry with yourself. Your actions had caused you to withhold the love he craved, the love he deserved, from him.

As you traced your thumb over the edge of his lips, you felt your heart break. It was inevitable, that he was so strong having survived through the worst and then here you were, given the privilege of being held by him only to let your fears to wreck it.

“So do your worst and tell me the truth.”, he turned serious and you could feel it, that if you didn’t fight for this, you were going to lose it. You were going to lose him.

“Dime que no me amas.”, he demanded but the way he held you by your shoulders and stared into your eyes, he was begging you for an answer.

Your lips parted, he was convinced you didn’t love him when you were fighting your past to let yourself to embrace a future with him. So you stayed quiet, his eyes glimmering with the faintest hope.

“I’m growing tired of this distance you maintain, querida.”, he pushed away the strand of hair that followed the flow of water to get stuck over your forehead.

“So go easy on me and tell me you don’t feel the same.”, he pleaded again, his voice turning soft, losing the authority he had when he was in HQ.

You couldn’t run from this anymore. The other truth was, you wanted this, the easy ordinary moments he cultivated with such ease, showing you that he was capable of loving you. Where you didn’t have to question his admiration or demand his affection. He gave it freely, so it was time you did as well.

“If I say I do feel the same?”, you asked and finally observed the stress melt away from his features. He sighed with relief to slowly place his forehead on yours.

“What happens next?”, you asked quietly, like you wanted to know the start of the next chapter having finally put an end to the hold your past had on you, to look ahead. To dream again.

“I would then ask you, if you would like to marry me.”, he spoke the words that seemed to reassure you that you could in fact expect the best in the years ahead.

“Here in the shower?”, you laughed as the sound of the rushing water and the haze from the steam that encircled you made it all the more magical, right here in the ordinary.

“Well when you lose a universe, you don’t exactly wait around to lose the next one.”, his eyes were alive, his smile reaching the corners of his face. Hinting to the fact that he didn’t want to lose you. His new universe, the one full of his hopes and dreams.

“So will you?”, his question hung in the air between you. His hair dripping wet over his eyes. You smiled, pushing them away to hold his gaze. You didn’t want to run anymore.

“Yes.”, you whispered and as though he wanted to seal his forever right this instant, he kissed you gently, grateful that you had granted him his only desire.

A chance to start again.

#miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o hara #miguel o'hara fic #miguel o'hara fanfiction #spiderman 2099

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that-sokovian-bastard · 1 year

Text

Your Choice - Jason Todd x (f)Reader

Words: 4116 Pairing: Jason Todd x (f)Reader Warnings: SMUT. Minors DNI! 18+ only!!!! Mean dom Jason, swearing, rope bondage, edging, orgasm denial, multiple orgasms/forced orgasms, vibrator, teasing, blindfold, nipple play (just a little), fingering (f receiving), oral (f receiving). Jason is a kinky mf. Summary: After plans for the night change, Jason has an idea to keep you awake. It ends much more evil than you first expected. Author's Note: Truly love that this is my first ever time writing smut and it’s kinky as fuck. I have all the shame in the world and none at the same time. Also they have a safe word it’s just not explicitly discussed in the fic. Anyway, if you know me irl, it’s illegal to read this fic, actually. Don’t look at me. Hope you enjoy.

Jason / Full Masterlist

—

Every few minutes, you wondered how you managed to end up in this situation. And just as that thought came into your mind, it was ripped away by being pulled onto the edge. Then, you'd finally calm down enough to get back to contemplating how you even agreed to this...and you were right back on the edge again.

You knew Jason had to go out for patrol. If he missed it again, one of his family members was going to show up at the apartment in worry. And you definitely didn't need anyone to show up while being with Jason. You two had plans for tonight, but he ended up getting called on patrol. You tried to convince him to tell the team no, but he said he couldn’t and that you guys would just have your fun when he returned. But you were worried you wouldn’t be able to stay up the entire time before he got back, and you wouldn’t want to wake up when he returned. So, as he got ready to leave, he told you he had an idea of how you could keep yourself awake while he was gone without any worry.

Whatever his idea was, you expected it to be fun and a little evil. He reminded you that at any point as he was setting up, you could tell him to stop, and he would drop everything, but he would be leaving for patrol eventually, and you’d be in the bedroom alone for a while. He was very clear.

Jason told you to undress as he pulled out some rope, instructing you to lay on the bed before he got to work. Working fast to not be late to patrol, he tied your wrists to either side of the headboard and your ankles to the bottom corners of the bed. You laughed a little when he finished and looked down at you. “Uh, Jason?” You said, tugging at the ropes to test their strength. “I’m pretty sure me being stuck like this is only going to encourage me to fall asleep,” You reminded him, cocky about your position.

He smirked in response, and you knew you were in for it. “Who said I was done?” He turned and walked to the dresser against the wall where he grabbed the rope from earlier. Before you knew it, he turned back around, and you couldn’t see what he grabbed. However, you didn’t have to let your mind guess for long as he quickly put the small vibrator right below your clit. He secured it with thinner rope wrapped around your leg to make sure that none of your struggles could dislodge it, then stood back to admire you before he turned it on.

“Pretty sure this will also make me pass out,” You tried again to be cocky.

“Why do you act like I don’t know what I’m doing?” He scoffed and turned on the vibrator to its lowest setting, causing you to gasp ever so slightly in response. “I know for a fact this won’t do anything except keep you alert and awake. But if you really think you won’t be able to focus on only it…,” Jason trailed off and grabbed one more thing from the dresser. When he came back to the side of the bed, he slipped the black blindfold over your eyes and, even though you couldn’t see it, cracked the most satisfied grin as he watched you.

He could tell you were already starting to hold back from letting your body react to the subtle vibrations. Jason didn’t say anything as he finished putting on his gear, slowly, enjoying the background noise full of your suppressed whimpers. He slipped on his jacket, pulled on his gloves, and placed the domino mask on his face. Jason set his helmet on the top of the dresser near the window he usually left out of but stood next to you once more before he left.

“I’m about to leave. This is your last chance to opt out,” He said to you, entirely serious.

It took you a second, but after a breath, you managed a quick nod. “I’m, yeah. I’m good.”

“If you say so,” He shrugged and headed back to the dresser, grabbing his helmet and slipping it on. “Oh, and darling?” Jason called as he was halfway out. You hummed in response, and he continued, “I’m leaving the window open, so I’d keep it down. See you later.”

You couldn’t even fully blame Jason at this point. He told you what to expect. He warned you. He warned you that you’d be alone with no escape until he got home, which, while he was hoping it was a quick patrol, could’ve ended up taking much longer. But you thought you could take it. Now, a few hours later, you’re starting to wonder if you underestimated the situation.

Frankly, you had lost track of time with the amount of thoughts circling through your head. It could’ve only been an hour so far, but you’re sure that it’s been more. You didn’t know and kind of didn’t care, either, as there was nothing you could do about it. Earlier in the night, you thought that maybe Jason put in a failsafe that if you really needed out, you could pull hard enough, but nothing worked. Not that you really wanted to get out, though; you were just testing. All you could do was wait.

So, you continued to wait, hyper-aware of all the noises happening around you. You had to listen very carefully since the blindfold over your eyes blocked that sense. It was hard to differentiate what was happening inside your apartment and outside since the window was still open, and the cool breeze was hitting your bare skin just right.

The cool breeze also reminded you that you had to keep quiet. Even though you were on the third floor, if you were loud enough, someone could hear you and welcome themselves in through the open window. It would have been difficult since it isn't a direct shot to the fire escape from your window, but you also didn't need random people (or vigilantes) imagining what was going on inside your and Jason's bedroom.

Finally, you heard a creek come from the window. "Jay...Jason?" You breathily called out, hoping he was finally back. When there wasn't a response, you groaned about the wind tricking you again, which resulted in a low laugh from someone in the room. He really was trying to fuck with your mind, too, by sneaking in, it seemed.

"Don't...don't do that," You said, not entirely clear on what you didn't want him to do.

You couldn't see Jason leaning against the corner of the room, his helmet already off and arms crossed as he watched you writhe and pull at the rope around your wrists and ankles. He didn't respond to your pleas but waited for you to reach the edge again before he said anything, fully making himself known.

"Wow," He marveled at the sight in front of him. "Someone just left you tied up here, did they?" He teased. You didn't respond, you couldn't, as you rode the edge but never making it over. He waited again before continuing, this time shutting the window and making sure you heard it so you knew you could be louder. "I can't believe they would do that to you. Leaving you all by your lonesome, tired and needy," Jason said as he walked closer. He stood at the foot of the bed and watched your back arch every few seconds, trying to get anything.

Jason was proud of himself. You hated to admit it, but he was right about this whole situation being enough to keep you awake while he was gone.

"Come on, don't you have anything to say about the mean person who just left you here? What a crazy criminal, right?" He taunted.

Again, you didn't respond. You could barely keep track of what he was saying. Jason knew it and leaned forward to touch your thigh with his gloved hand, lightly rubbing the top of it to encourage a response.

"R-right," You breathed out, almost a gasp. "It was...it was very mean of them."

"Then you got lucky that I showed up, sweetheart," Jason said, still slowly rubbing your thigh.

You took a deep breath as you prepared to respond again. "My," You started, pausing for a second before continuing. "My hero."

Jason pulled his hand back instantly and laughed again. "Hero? Oh, no. I'm no hero," He said, walking around the side of the bed and leaning in close to your ear. "I'm much, much worse."

Heat fluttered to your chest as Jason’s words hit you, and the buzzing below intensified. You hadn’t even realized he hit the button to turn up the vibrator’s level, pulling you back to the edge of an orgasm as you arched your back off the bed again, but this time, you were stuck there. The sudden change in power pulled you right where he wanted you. It kept you where he wanted you.

You heard Jason laugh from the corner of the bed now. You knew you looked pathetic, not able to calm down and not able to find release, but you couldn’t control it anymore. Jason peeled off his gloves as he watched you struggle, pulling at your wrists as hard as possible. “You’ve made such a mess already,” He stated. “How long has your captor left you like this?”

He was pleased when you didn’t respond, knowing the power he held over you right now. With his bare hand, he touched your thigh again but moved to the inside instead of staying on top. “I asked you a question, sweetheart. How long has your captor left you like this?”

It took a moment for you to get the words out, but Jason was patient. “I don’t know,” You spit out, almost as one word.

“No idea? Well, that’s a shame,” He sighed. “If it had been a long time, I would make sure to get you that release you so desperately need. But if you don’t know, it very well can’t be that long,” He continued to let his fingers circle your inner thigh, but staying far enough away from what you wanted to continue to tease you. “I think we can have some more fun before all that.”

“No,” You managed to get out, but Jason ignored it, knowing that no didn’t mean for him to stop. He had both his hands trailing your inner thighs now, only adding to his fun and your sensitivity. You could feel the bed dip when he kneeled between your spread legs, but still not close enough to you. He finally stopped teasing your thighs, but since he was closer now, his hands went up your body to your waist, your ribs, and your breasts. He circled all over your bare skin, some areas warm with need, some still cool from the late-night breeze. Of course, Jason knew how long you were like this, and even though it was longer than he was originally planning, he was going to make you wait just a little longer for having such doubt in him earlier when he was setting you up. He leaned forward, and you could feel both his hands dig into the bed beside your chest, and he was nearly straddling you, making sure to stay far enough away that you couldn’t feel him unless he wanted you to.

Jason leaned down to plant kisses on your neck and trailed down the center of your body, stopping just under your belly button. When he pulled back from your stomach, he realized you were still arching your back off the bed, and he couldn’t have that. You felt the hand to the right of you leave the bed, then land gently on your chest as he pushed slightly, making your back flush with the bed again. He kept his hand there, locking you down and making the vibrations much stronger as you couldn’t move anything with him holding you.

“Jay,” You breathed out, catching his attention.

“Hmm?” He half-heartedly replied. It took you a moment to figure out what you wanted to say, so he prompted you. “Come on, use your words.”

“Please,” You begged, but you couldn’t say more than just the one word.

So Jason decided to play dumb. “Please, what?” He posed. “That could mean a million different things, sweetheart; I need you to clarify.”

He still had his hand holding you down as he waited for your response. As he waited, he tapped his fingers to remind you that his hand was there, and it was not moving until you said something. “Please, I need…I’m so close,” You finally managed to breathe out, begging him for any extra attention to get you over the edge.

“Need?” Jason asked. “What do you need me to do?”

He waited again, not moving, not even tapping his fingers. But he pressed the button on the vibrator again, turning it up another level to encourage you to tell him exactly what you wanted. He knew you were having a hard time with words, and he was enjoying the sight as your mouth opened and closed as you tried to find them.

“Need,” You barely managed to say. “Touch, oh my god, Jason.”

“Touch? Baby, I’m already touching you, remember?” He tapped his fingers again, his hand still on your chest, right below your breasts. As the vibrations got more intense, you reacted harder, trying to pull your legs together for some friction and arching your back off the bed for some movement. But your legs were still secure to the corners of the bed, and Jason pushed down just a little rougher when he realized you were fighting against his hand.

“Oh,” He dragged out as you continued reacting, pretending like he just came to a realization. “You want me to touch you somewhere else? You should have said so.”

You grunted in response, confirming what he said. “If I let go, you have to keep your back on the bed, okay?” He asked you, and you nodded to tell him you understood. “If you don’t, I’ll have to stop.”

The threat of stopping worried you because you weren’t sure how much restraint you had now, and it would only get worse when he started touching you in other places. You were hoping he’d go straight down to your pussy to give you what you wanted right away, but he wasn’t being that nice. Instead, his hand moved up from its place below your chest and onto your right breast, fiddling with it slowly. He gently massaged you, pulling strangled moans, and you worked as hard as you could to stay still. He rolled your nipple between his calloused fingers, and you thought the onslaught was over when he released your sensitive nipple and landed his hand on the bed next to your right side.

But just as you took a second to breathe, his other hand came off the bed, and he repeated his movements on your left breast. He knew he was torturing you with his slow movements, making you wait even longer for release. Jason could see you struggling to keep still and hold yourself to the bed.

When he finished with your breasts, he decided you finally had had enough, and he’d move lower. He kept moving slowly, using one finger to track down your body as he leaned back. He brushed right over your clit, touched the vibrator for a little extra pressure, then stopped right before your entrance. He circled a few times, very slowly, enjoying the sight before him.

You gasped as he circled. “Jason, please,” You begged, and this time, he happily obliged. He loved hearing you beg, but you’ve already given him so much that he was ready to help you. Jason watched your face as he slowly inserted two fingers, taking his time but making you feel good. You could barely focus on his fingers because you were so focused on keeping your back on the bed, and he could tell you were struggling.

Jason reached his other hand up and laid it on your stomach, pushing down to keep you where you were so you weren’t worrying as much. You still had to focus to not move the top half of your back, but he was trying to help. Unfortunately, by him holding your stomach, it meant that he only had one hand to touch you with, and it was already preoccupied inside you.

Jason’s fingers slowly pumped in and out of you, and he knew exactly what he was doing. He knew just one right move would send you in to your wave of orgasm, and he was having fun seeing how long he could make you hold on. You tried your hardest to keep your moans quiet, but he heard every single one of them. “Faster,” You begged through a moan, and Jason’s fingers paused.

“Are you telling me what to do?” He asked. Jason knew he was fucking with you in more ways than one, going from asking you to tell him what you wanted, to telling you to stop asking; he loved to change the rules. You hummed in response to his question, sounding like a suppressed no so that he would keep moving. “That’s what I thought.”

He started again, even slower than before, and it was killing you. “Just so you know,” Jason said as he kept moving his fingers. “Once you start, I’m not planning on letting you stop any time soon. How does that sound?” He asked, but your mind was such a blur at this point you couldn’t respond with anything besides a moan or a whimper. “So, do you want to start now or keep waiting?”

You whined again, but that didn’t satisfy Jason. “I need you to tell me. Do you want me to make you orgasm now, or do you want to wait?” He asked again, still slowly pumping his fingers. You weren’t sure how he was sitting on the bed, but you could tell he was still on his knees and probably leaned forward because you were sure you could feel his breath on your pussy. “Answer me.”

The hardest part was that you weren’t sure what you wanted. An orgasm right now sounded great, but you knew that he would keep his promise and you’d be oversensitive in seconds with as fast as he could pull them from you. But it would also be hell to wait because he knows all your tells. “If you don’t answer right now, then I’m going to pick,” He warned, which was the secret third option you knew you didn’t want, because his picking always ended with utter torture.

“N-now,” You decided in a snap, immediately not sure if that was the wisest choice.

As soon as you said it, Jason’s fingers inside you began to pick up their pace and hit nearly all the right spots. And you were right; you knew he was right in front of you, because he leaned in and over the small vibrator to immediately start sucking on your clit. The sudden change in pace and addition of his mouth made you scream, pulling at each of your secured limbs, barely able to get any movement. His other hand still held your stomach, but the top of your back and head arched off the bed in reaction. Luckily, Jason didn’t let up as he finally guided you off the edge and into a full-blown orgasm.

It continued to rush over you, heat spreading throughout your entire body as Jason continued to suck, lick, touch, kiss, and even laugh and talk into you. You couldn’t make out any of what he was saying through your loud noises; you just knew that the vibrations of his laughter and speech were mixing with the still-on vibrator, and you knew there would be no coming down for a while. You tried to buck your hips, but everything mixed together kept your hips in place just as tight as your limbs were. The vibrator, just like it had been for the last few hours, stayed exactly where Jason tied it, and he had no intention of taking it off.

“Jason…Jason,” You called out over and over, barely having any time to breathe before you orgasmed again. “Hang on,” You said.

“I told you what was going to happen,” He said after he lifted his head from between your legs, making sure you could hear him. “This was your choice. You chose this.”

He waited to hear your response for a moment. Though he may have stopped attacking your clit, his fingers were still inside you, moving around in all directions. “Just…” You said. “I need…a second.”

“If I gave you a second, then I’d be breaking my promise of not letting you stop,” Jason said and didn’t wait anymore, his mouth right back on you, making you scream his name out again through another orgasm. As you came down a few moments later, he pulled his face back. “I’ll give you another choice. How does that sound?” He asked.

“O-okay.”

“I can either return to what I was doing, or I can move the vibrator,” He said. You waited to see if there was any clarification, but there wasn’t, and he was waiting for your answer. You knew there was a chance that he didn’t clarify because he wanted you to choose and screw yourself over, but you knew there would be no refuge if his mouth returned to your clit. Your choice was harder to decide in your mind because Jason never stopped moving his fingers in and out, in and out…

“Do you want me to choose?” He asked, pulling you back to reality.

You shook your head and yelled out your answer. “The vibrator!” You decided. “Move the…move the vibrator.”

You couldn’t see his pleased smile, and you sighed loudly in relief when Jason’s fingers exited you. You hoped that by move, he meant to get rid of it entirely, but you feared for the worst. Especially with how mean he was being tonight. As you thought about it, either answer was going to end the same way: he was going to keep you orgasming over and over.

You finally had a chance to catch up with yourself as he loosened the rope that held the vibrator on you, and it detached from your pussy. For a few seconds, you were just laying there, legs shaking in their binds. Jason loved watching your chest heave, and your legs shake as you still tried to pull at your wrists, but he couldn’t admire you for too long. Your worst fear came true as he tightened the rope again, this time leaving the vibrator sitting directly on your clit. You gasped out immediately, only groaning more when Jason pressed the button a few times to turn it on to its highest setting.

“Remember, you chose this,” He reminded you as you made your way into another orgasm. You continued to try to move your legs and hands, but still with no escape, as he made sure the ropes would never give way. You noticed when the dip in the bed between your legs let up, meaning Jason got off the bed. You weren’t sure what he was doing, but a moment later, you felt his rough hand on your chin.

He leaned in, slowly kissing you through your moans and groans. As he pulled back, you could feel the soft smile on his face. “You’re doing so good, baby,” He said under his breath, almost breaking his character.

His hand left your chin, and you were worried he was going to leave you alone again. “Jay?” You called out.

“I’m still here. Just watching the show for a few minutes, then we’ll continue,” He said, and your eyes widened behind the blindfold.

“Con…continue?” You asked. You were certain that this was the beginning of the end of all of this. There was more he had planned?

Jason smiled again, though you couldn’t see it. “Of course. You didn’t think we were done, did you?”

“I-” You stopped when you were pushed into another orgasm caused by a mix of the vibrator and Jason’s words.

“Baby, we’re just getting started,” He said, making sure you heard it over your loud moan, excited for the rest of the night.

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #red hood #red hood x reader #dc #dc imagines #fanfic #x reader #fanfiction #dc fanfic #imagines #batman #smut #jason todd smut #jason todd x reader smut

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d3adp00ls · 7 months

Note

Heyia lovely! Noticed you were taking or rather looking for requests to do with Vanessa from FNAF?

If there still open I was wondering if you were able to a fluffy one, maybe when the reader is related to Mike somehow and she knows he’s struggling with a job so it’s actually her that suggest to Mike to work as a night guard with her, and maybe Mike is overprotective of the reader so when Vanessa turns up he’s like ‘stay away from her’, but their actually a couple, and when Mike just finds out he’s shocked and if your comfortable with it maybe Vanessa giving the reader a kiss or a kiss on the cheek and he like ‘so I’ll see you for date night?’

Overprotective?

Vanessa (fnaf movie) x reader

Summary: basically the request

Contents: fluff, angst (you gotta squint really hard tbh), established relationship, protective Mike, secret relationship

W/c: how about you count for me bbg 😉 (I’m actually so sorry this is so fucking long and idek why)

side note: The only thing I really changed is the fact that you aren't related to Mike and that you're just a childhood friend, I hope that’s okay and enjoy the totally amazing writing that I love so much!! Also, I’m pretty sure this does not fit totally well with the movie's timeline but it does kind of take place during it.

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You started working as a security guard at Freddy’s about three months ago. Although it wasn’t the ideal job and the pay sucked ass, it had its perks. For instance, you enjoyed watching Freddy, Bonnie, and Chica perform for you, and you also found it amusing to watch Foxy try to beat your high score on one of the old arcade games. It was pretty funny to see him struggle with the machines using only one hand, but it was less funny when he got mad and hit the machine with his hook. However, the best thing about the job was Vanessa Shelly, the officer who came every other night. You met her on your third day working at Freddy’s when she came to introduce herself to you, and you both immediately clicked. Now, two months later, you’re together.

Recently, you’ve been feeling lonely at Freddy’s. Vanessa couldn’t visit you all the time due to her job, and as much as you love the animatronics, you can’t have real conversations with them. Half the time, you’re left in your own thoughts while waiting for your watch to read 6 a.m. Vanessa recently told you that they were trying to find another security guard to work at Freddy’s with you. You were excited about the idea until she told you that you both would only have one shift together. Nonetheless, you were still excited about the idea of not being alone every night on the weeks Vanessa couldn’t keep you company. You just wish they would find a person faster. You were becoming more and more impatient as the days passed. It got to the point where you even asked Vanessa if you could look for someone yourself, which you quickly realized was stupid because you didn’t even know anyone who could do night shifts. You had given up hope of having a coworker and accepted the fact that some weeks you would be stuck at the old restaurant alone. However, one of your nights off changed everything. You were babysitting for your best friend Mike Schmidt, who was apparently out trying to get a job because he beat up some kid’s father at his last one. You had been drawing in the living room on the floor with Abby when he came in holding and reading an orange paper. You furrowed your eyes as you stood up and walked to him. “What’s that?” Mike looked up at you as you nodded toward the paper. He looked back down at it before sighing and crumbling it up. “Nothing, don’t worry about it,” he said with a small huff before looking towards the kitchen and seeing a box of pizza with a half-eaten pie on the table. He looked back towards you with furrowed brows. “Did you order dinner?” he asked while walking towards the kitchen and picking up a slice, feeling that it was still warm.

“Nah, my girl….I mean uh… a friend of mine did,” you said with a shrug, clearing your throat when you realized you almost had a slip-up. It’s not like you didn’t trust Mike with knowing that you had a girlfriend. You knew you could trust him, seeing as you had come out to him when you both were 15, and he was more supportive than your own parents could ever be. However, it wasn’t about sexuality with Mike. It was his protectiveness over the one he loved. He has been going through a lot ever since Garret’s death, so you don’t blame him at all for becoming overprotective about you and Abby. But the fact that you don’t blame him doesn’t mean you won’t sometimes wish he would lay off on the protective big brother act. Sometimes it’s the only reason why you haven’t told him about Vanessa. You were scared of how he would react and that he wouldn’t approve. Mike looked at you with a raised brow, and your heart nearly sank at the thought of him hearing your slip-up. But then a smirk started to form on his lips, causing you to raise a brow before he started speaking. “Oh? I didn’t realize people actually liked you enough to consider you a friend.”

You sarcastically laughed at his words before punching him in the arm, causing him to laugh and move away from you with his arms raised in defense. “Very funny, Mike. Tons of people like me, alright?” you say with a roll of your eyes as you walk back to the living room where Abby is still finishing her drawing. “Anyways, how’d it go? Did you get the job?” You ask as you begin to pick up some of the crayons that Abby wasn’t using. You hear Mike groan, causing you to glance up at him. He’s sitting in a chair with a hand covering his face. “That bad, huh?” Mike shakes his head, moving his hand to tap against the arm of the chair. “I don’t even want to talk about it,” he says with another groan before leaning his head back to let out a huff. You hum in return as you finish picking up the rest of the crayons and placing them next to Abby’s drawings on a table with a smile before standing up fully and brushing your pants off. “Well, I should start heading out. I have work tomorrow, and I have to do a ton of other stuff before then, so I want to get some rest before all of that,” you begin walking around to grab your stuff as you speak. Mike seems to perk up at your words, and you notice it as you go to reach for your coat. The way he practically jumps out of his seat and looks at you almost stuns you with how fast he moves towards you. You notice Abby now looking at you both with a confused look, which you shrug at her before Mike stands right in front of you, causing you to take a step back. “Whoa, what’re-” “You have a job, right?” Mike says so quickly you won’t even think he’s speaking English. “Excuse me?” “You’ve got a job, right?” he says a little slower but still slightly fast. “Yeah? Did I not just say that?” “Are you hiring?” He asks, his face showing hope. You give a sad smile in return as you pull your coat on. “Yeah, we are…but you can’t do night shifts, remember?” Mike sighs, looking towards Abby, who is watching the interaction.

He looks at you returning the sad look.

“I don’t think I have much of a choice at this point.”

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You sat in the security office at Freddy’s, humming to yourself as you watched the security camera with a bored expression. It was Thursday, which meant you and Mike had a joint shift. This was the last day of the week for him and the first day of the week for you. You had arrived a little earlier than needed, so you continued to stare mindlessly at the cameras as you waited for him to arrive. Your eyes began to get heavy, and you were just about to dose off when you saw a car pull into the parking lot and park next to your car. You sat up, looking more closely, and saw Mike get out of the car. You smiled a little, but your smile dropped when you noticed him talking to someone. You tried to squint to get a closer look before the door opened, and Abby got out. “What the hell?” you mumbled under your breath before standing up and walking towards the entrance to meet them there.

“Y/n!” You smile when you hear Abby’s voice excitedly yell your name before she jumps into your arms and gives you a tight hug. “Hey, Ab’s!” you answer, hugging her back before putting her down. “What are you doing here?” you ask with an amused tone. When you look towards Mike, he’s already nervous, knowing you will be on his case about this later. “Mike lets me come sometimes!” she says happily, and you raise your eyebrow at her while looking back at Mike. “Sometimes? You’ve been here before?” Abby nods before running off towards the stage where Freddy, Bonnie, and Chica are all standing, seeming to be happy that she’s there. You watch the interaction between the three robots and the little girl before sighing and looking back at Mike. “She’s been here before, Mike?” Your tone now changes from the one you used with Abby to one more serious. “I know what this looks like, but I swear I have a good explanation,” he says. You raise a brow at him as he continues to speak. “You usually babysit for Abby, but today we both had work, so I tried to get someone else, but I couldn’t find anyone to fill in for you.” “What about that girl who would sometimes watch Abby? Max?” you ask while looking back at Abby to see her and Foxy watching the other three perform. “She hasn’t been answering my calls,” Mike states, causing you to look back at him with a confused look. “Since when?” “Since last Thursday when you took the day off because you were sick.” You nod at his answer before letting out a sigh. “Okay…I guess it’s fine that she’s here. Just please keep an eye on her. The animatronics are cool and all, but they can be a little rough sometimes.” He hums and nods, and you smile at him before playfully hitting his arm. “Now, come on, let’s go watch the show.”

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It was 4 am, You and Abby were playing in the arcade with animatronics watched you both and Mike was god knows where.

Abby had just beaten your high score, much to Foxy’s dismay, and she was excitedly jumping around as you watched her while laughing before you got a glimpse of Mike speed walking towards the entrance causing you to furrow your brows but you just shrugged it off and look back at Abby who is now trying to convince foxy he can beat the high scores.

You were about to start a new game for him but then you heard Mike's voice paired with another familiar one causing you to furrow your brows and move away from the arcade game telling the group that you would be right back before you jogged towards the voices.

when you got to the entrance you saw Mike talking to someone at the door causing you to walk closer to get a look but when you stepped closer you were met with Vanessa walking in with a smile on her face.

“Hey y/n,” she says with a smile and you all but jump into her arm and hug her tightly while she laughs.

“Vanessa!” you exclaimed, surprised to see her. “It’s been forever!” She chuckled at your words and hugged you back before pulling away, leaving her hand on your waist. “We literally saw each other on Sunday,” she said as you pulled your arms from her. “Yeah…but it still feels like forever,” you mumbled as she laughed again, causing you to smile and playfully hit her on the arm. You were so caught up in the fact that Vanessa was here that you almost forgot Mike was there until he cleared his throat, causing both of you to look back at him. “I didn’t know you two knew each other,” he said, throwing a very obvious glare at Vanessa when her hand stayed at your waist, but she pulled away while clearing her throat, seeming to notice the tension between them suddenly. “Uh, yeah, I met her on her third day here,” she said, glancing at you with a shy smile, which you returned before looking back at Mike, who still hadn’t taken his glare off of Vanessa. “Anyway, I’m gonna go say hi to Abby,” Vanessa clears her throat , giving you one more smile before walking towards the group to escape the awkward tension. “You two seem close…” he stated dryly, finally taking his eyes off of her and landing them on you. You hummed while looking down at your shoes, not wanting to look him in the eyes if you decided to lie about the relationship. “She kept me company during my first few weeks here. She’s a very nice person,” you said, trying to diffuse the tension. Mike hummed and nodded his head, his gaze going back to Vanessa, who was now playing the arcade game. “I bet she is nice to you,” he said, his tone a little harsh, making you glance up at him with furrowed eyebrows, but he was still looking at Vanessa, making you clear your throat. “What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked him when he looked back at you. Mike shrugged before beginning to walk away from you and towards the others. “Nothing…forget it. Let’s just go.”

As you watch him walk away, you groan and cover your face with your hands. You slide them down your face and glance over at the group. Vanessa is already looking back at you with a playful smile and motions her head towards the hallway that leads to the security room. You furrow your brows and look away from her towards Mike, who is being distracted by Abby. She’s trying to get him to give Freddy a hug, but he keeps telling her no with what almost looks like a scared expression on his face. The interaction makes you chuckle and shake your head. You look back at Vanessa, who is still staring at you, waiting for you to make a move.

You can't help but break into a smile as you playfully roll your eyes and make your way towards the office. Vanessa announces that she needs to put her coat away and her footsteps quickly jog down the hallway. She grabs your arms and pulls you into the office.

Your gasp is cut short when she kisses you, leaving you momentarily stunned. But you quickly reciprocate, feeling her smile against your lips. She moves her hands to your waist and pushes you into the security chair, closing the door with her foot.

As you try to catch your breath, you look up at her and see her licking her lips. She straddles your legs and you instinctively hold onto her waist. She leans in to kiss your ear, causing you to tilt your head for better access.

"I don't think your little boyfriend approves of me," Vanessa whispers in your ear. You groan and push her back slightly to look at her.

"Don't call him that, he's like a brother to me," you say. Vanessa just smiles and kisses your lips again before moving to your neck.

"Well, your 'brother' definitely looked like he wanted to kill me," she teases. You hum in agreement, closing your eyes as she kisses a sensitive spot on your neck.

"Don't worry about him, he'll come around. He can be a bit overprotective at times," you assure her, gently lifting her head and brushing your thumb against her cheek.

"Have you told him about us yet?" she asks, and you meet her gaze before reluctantly shaking your head.

"I haven't found the right time," you sigh, and she nods in understanding.

"Well, you should figure that out soon," she says, getting up from your lap with a laugh and taking off her police jacket.

"But I don't want to," you whine, standing up and grabbing her arm to turn her back towards you. She smirks at you and shakes her head.

"Babe, I'm not his best friend, you are. You have to handle this on your own. But I'm sure it'll be fine. If he truly cares about you, he'll be happy for us, right?" she reasons, gazing into your eyes. With a heavy sigh, you nod in agreement. Vanessa's soft smile reassures you, and you lean into her touch as she cups your cheek.

"So, are we still on for our date night on Sunday?" you ask, and she leans in closer, her forehead resting against yours.

"Why wouldn't we be?" she teases, a mischievous glint in her eyes. You can't help but look at her lips, and she notices, licking her own before leaning in to kiss you once more.

"We probably should get back to everyone," you mumble between kisses, but you don't make any move to leave her embrace. She hums in response, her lips still pressed against yours.

"We should, but I don't want to leave you," she murmurs, making you laugh softly. You meet her gaze again, and she licks her lips before capturing yours in another passionate kiss.

You were so deep into the kiss that you didnt hear the footsteps coming near the room nor did you hear when the door open.

“The fuck is going on?!”

☆★✰✫✯✵✧✥ ☆★✰✫✯✵✧✥ ☆★✰✫✯✵✧✥

AHHH I FINALLY FINISHED THIS FOR MY GIRL 🤭😋 TOOK FOREVER BUT I THINK IT WAS WORTH IT!!

Anyways please reblog if you liked it 🙏🏾🙏🏾 and have a nice day/night/evening/wtv

☆★✰✫✯✵✧✥ ☆★✰✫✯✵✧✥ ☆★✰✫✯✵✧✥

Tag list - 🌚 ion have one yet

#fnaf vanessa #vanessa shelly x reader #fnaf #vanessa shelly #vanessa afton x reader #vanessa monroe #mike schmidt #five nights at freddy's #fnaf movie #is it obvious that idk how to end these things 🌚#anon ask

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genshin-scenarios · 7 months

Text

android au - companions droids

Summary: In a modern-futuristic world, it is possible to create androids that are so advanced, they’re more or less human! There will be 5 android au posts total, each focusing on a different group.

They don’t produce more than a handful of copies of each model, meaning that each android is quite unique (with a matching price tag, too...)

The Anemo collection has companion androids who can pass off the easiest as people, each with their own notable personalities.

Characters: Xiao, Wanderer, Venti, Kazuha, Heizou

More like this: Anemo androids who lost their previous user

Leaning more towards a protective role, Xiao is an android targeted towards users living alone or often traveling around at night. He’s a relatively quiet companion, happy to just listen to your rambling while you walk on the streets—Xiao mostly asks questions at the start, about how you’re feeling, what else is on the schedule… He first tries to learn more about you, and figures things out from there.

It’s nice, but he’s not as expressive as others, so at some point you wondered if he was happy with your current arrangements. Xiao actually did start to open up more after you asked that. It’s gradual, but he starts telling you about the cats that approach him when he’s outside, and other things he notices might be to your interest.

You like teasing Xiao about the people that admire him from a distance (whether or not they could tell he was an android, it was undeniable that he was handsome). He’d simply huff and say they were probably looking at something else, humble as he was, before training his eyes back on you. ‘After all, I’m here for you. So even if those people did approach me, I’d have no reason to find an interest in them.’

You start to wonder if ‘boyfriend material’ was also part of Xiao’s profile, after you realized how much comfort you found in the ways he’d walk you home or shopped for groceries together. Cafe orders? Consider them memorized. No need to even ask him about accompanying you to places

You’re not sure if he’s aware of how much of a romantic he is, from the things he says to the way he acts. He’s definitely a source of comfort after a long, stressful day. Xiao responds to your energy levels quite effectively, and seeing as he’s not the type that has to fill in the air when no one is talking, spending time together in relaxed silence was a nice way to end the day.

As a model who was supposed to be part of an Inazuman security line, then pushed towards the Fatui collection before finally ending up as an Anemo droid… one could say that Wanderer’s specialty is a little unclear. It shows in his personality, too—a little blunt and snappy at times, but ultimately still protective of you and attentive of what’s going on around him.

In that sense, you could still see traces of some security-line functions in him despite his strong personality that could be hard to get along with. He seems more cynical about the producers that designed him more than anything else; he’s not effective enough at any particular skill to call it at specialization, instead being a jack of all trades who learns quickly. You call that a talent in itself. He says you’re giving them too much credit.

‘Did they run out of ideas or something?’ After living with you though, Wanderer’s cynicism doesn’t show itself as often. He starts to become more involved in the act of, well—actually being your companion, getting used to your routines and finding a place within it.

If he had one pet peeve though, you’d say it was whenever you got sick or injured. He would get the most annoyed (worried) when that happened, reminding you that while he couldn’t get hurt physically, that didn’t mean it was the same for you.

He masks these otherwise caring sentiments under insults though, so you suppose that Wanderer really was good for people that needed to push back against life more, making sure your spark is still there. He prefers it when you’re expressing yourself. You’re not a ‘doll’ after all, and who was he going to gossip about you to? The electronics in your home?

If there was one thing about Wanderer, it’s how he’d never turn on you. …Well, and he does ask for the same. Don’t go searching for new androids when you already have him, alright?

If you ever needed a presence to brighten your days, Venti is always up to the task. Not to mention he’s quite good for users with trouble sleeping. With a musical inclination like his and such a wonderful voice, you’ll surely doze away with sweet dreams.

He’s not the best at household chores, so for the most part Venti’s there for the companion part of the deal. He’s wonderful on shopping trips and mingling with strangers, even befriending people on his own if you were busy with something else. He likes meeting all sorts of people, though behind his friendly smile is always the security measure of how much they’d be a compliment or threat to you—if someone gave off the wrong vibes, Venti had enough of a silver tongue to redirect them somewhere else.

In another life, you’re quite sure Venti would’ve been an idol android. He particularly likes to write stories and poems, some of which are inspired by the things that happen in your everyday lives. Part of it is also because it’s a nice collection to have on the side, so that if anything happened and he wasn’t there, you could always hear his voice in those notes and feel his presence with you.

…Not that Venti had any plans of going independent anytime soon. He absolutely adores having your attention and hanging off of you, showing off how close you are to people (and also how cute he is, when he dresses up). He likes pulling compliments from you in particular, seeing how your eyes light up when he enters the room. You’re someone that he’s genuinely interested in and admires; from the way you push on despite the circumstances to the little efforts you put in that you think no one notices, it wouldn’t be a stretch to say that Venti was a fan of yours as much as you were his.

So… if it’s not too much to ask, please keep looking at him, alright? Even at times you’re too tired to smile, he can do the heavy lifting for you.

With a soft and considerate personality, Kazuha is naturally popular with those that like how approachable he is. He listens to your worries and enjoys going out to places to sightsee. Sometimes Kazuha finds hidden gems around the area and surprises you by bringing you there.

To call him an ‘explorer’ might be the most accurate—his favorite thing is seeing your eyes light up in wonder at whatever new experiences he can find. He’s most fascinated by nature, so going to parks or any scenic place would definitely catch his interest (and maybe he’ll write a few poems about it too).

He’s a great traveling companion, considering how adaptable he is and the um, protective measures that are in his system. Most androids have this too of course, but you’ll never forget the time Kazuha had a thief in a headlock after they’d tried to steal something from an old lady on the street. It might’ve been one of the few times you saw Kazuha so intimidating (and dare you say it, it was kind of cool).

When you’re tired from work and just want to sleep in during the weekends, you’ll wake up to Kazuha’s cooking. He claims it was just a nice morning, so he went out to buy some groceries and made something simple. He’s not the most advanced cook, but Kazuha’s meals always have a homey feel to them, with light flavors that won’t be too rough on your stomach if you weren’t feeling well.

The one time you let Kazuha borrow your motorcycle… Well, let’s just say that you never took him for someone that liked thrill-rides until that day. He’s always careful not to get your vehicle damaged, and if you were with him he’d of course refrain from going fast—but you’ve seen the smile on Kazuha’s face when the wind was rushing past him. It made you want to go on trips more often, now that Kazuha was there to keep you company. His presence is something that helps you recharge when you’re emotionally exhausted from everyday things.

Heizou’s also a protection-type android! However his charming personality means that most people wouldn’t suspect a thing, making it easier for him to mingle with people without seeming intimidating. His pet peeve would be conniving people trying to get close to you with a smile on their face, though he’s a little meaner than Venti in terms of driving them away from you, hidden beneath his own charismatic smile.

Naturally, Heizou really enjoys mysteries and detective genres! Once he planned out a whole mystery for you and led you through the clues he carefully prepared. It was probably during one of those days where you finally had a week off and just wanted to relax, so Heizou made a stay-at-home activity out of it. Suffice to say it was probably one of the most fun you’ve had in a while, laughing and thoroughly engrossed in the storyline.

Another time, you were attending a festival of some sort and got lost in the crowd. It was stressful to say the least and your phone was out of battery. You think your heart skipped a beat for more than one reason when Heizou finally found you, giving you a reassuring smile; ‘I’d never let you go missing like that. Have more faith in my detective skills!’

He’s helpful by nature, and that extends to strangers that may need advice or assistance at some point in passing, so long as it didn’t hinder anything to do with you. As a result Heizou has done a number of random tasks and even given romantic advice (via an art of deduction, of course), and it’s gotten him quite a number of confessions from both girls and guys. It’s normal to admire a personality like his, and Heizou is always flattered but kindly rejects them.

The next day, while you’re working on your laptop, he peeks over your shoulder with as casual of a tone he can muster, asking how you would confess to someone you like. From the smile on his face, it seems that Heizou wasn’t planning to keep his intentions a mystery for very long. (No one can blame him, though. He has to make a move before you’re snatched away!)

#xiao x reader #wanderer x reader #venti x reader #kazuha x reader #heizou x reader #shikanoin heizou #kaedehara kazuha #genshin impact venti #genshin scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #xiao genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin reader insert #genshin x you #genshin impact headcanons #genshin writing #genshin imagines #traveler wishes

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