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bylertruther · 2 years

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sitting here wondering what they're gonna do with the mind flayer next season considering we were told that vecna was his top general and how that plays into everything and so far here's what's bouncing around my head:

overall:

everything has been vecna's doing thus far, because it was his job to give the mind flayer entry into our world and form a bridge between them (see: the rifts). this would explain why he wasn't panicked or fussed at all over being attacked, claimed that they hadn't won/there's no stopping this, and that this was only the beginning. everything that we've seen so far has been act one of vecna and the mind flayer's master plan.

the mind flayer is going to materialize as the thessalhydra that nancy saw in vecna's vision and THAT'S when shit is ACTUALLY going to get real. we thought that we'd seen the mind flayer's might before, but we haven't seen anything like it yet. monsters as crazed and aggressive as the ones from the prison and the flesh monster from season three will start to breach the rifts and that's when "the beginning of the end" starts. it'll be an all out war man vs monsters style. the details are muddy, but it likely won't be enough to just close the gates anymore. it's either too late for that or they can't get anywhere near it without being torn to shreds.

this is at first of course, because the duffers have said that we pick up in season five right where we left off and i have a feeling that things will start to breach the gate either immediately or really, really early into the season.

still, they will have to close the gates somehow eventually. aside from the one opened by the russian machine, all of the gates (to my knowledge) have been opened due to darkness (trauma, pain, guilt, and fear): eleven and vecna's first fight, eleven being forced to make contact with the demogorgon, vecna kidnapping will, and the four curses that created the rifts.

naturally, the only way to close these gates will be with light (love, acceptance, hope, and solidarity). we've seen this before when eleven thought of her mother while closing the gate in season two with hopper by her side to protect and support her, so the evidence is right there. it's going to be a group effort as it always is, but will is the light and he always has been, and he's also vecna's narrative foil + the only one still cursed ("every ending has a beginning" "it was always you") + the missing tool to vecna's plan to remaking the world (the upside down turned into hawkins when will arrived and is stuck on that same day), so he's probably going to be what closes them or severs the connection.

mike is obviously going to be in trouble, too. his proximity to will, his history of always foiling their plans and finding their weaknesses and how to exploit them, and his previous close calls with death lead to a perfect "third time's the charm" situation. mike is also one of the only other people to have been in direct contact with vecna/the mind flayer (the hospital, the shed, and the battle of starcourt). i don't know if they'll play into the whole "true sight renders you immune to illusions" thing, and feel free to correct me if i'm wrong on that as always, but regardless mike has always been able to pull will back to earth, so they're definitely going to do something with that and him as that obviously won't be a good thing for our bad guys. also, it plays into the "without heart, we all fall apart" thing. i think him injuring his leg would be a cool callback to the tunnel scene in season two, but who knows... maybe he'll injure his arm as a callback to the season three campaign? we'll see. he's definitely getting a sword or some other melee weapon, though, as that seems to be his go-to and what he's always given.

as for the mind flayer:

i'm unsure as to whether they'll give it a moral compass or make it a neutral entity, but i lean towards the latter. vecna tells eleven that the upside down was unspoiled by mankind and that he saw the mind flayer as "a means to realize [his] potential; to transcend [his] human form; to become the predator [he] was always born to be." i could be wrong in two years, but this, paired with the fact that we saw docile demogorgons in the upside down with him before he manipulated it and at the lab when they weren't possessed by the mind flayer, makes me think that it's vecna that makes the mind flayer evil.

the mind flayer is an inconceivably powerful entity that is capable of behaving as a superorganism of sorts by spreading and infecting other organisms to add to the hivemind. like every living thing, it wants to grow and reproduce to increase its fitness. this in and of itself is not an inherently evil thing. the upside was unspoiled by mankind aka unspoiled before vecna came and manipulated it. he turned the mind flayer into that spider-like image he was obsessed with as a child and, considering he's been behind everything on stranger things so far, we know that he used it as a tool to achieve his plans.

i think it's likely that they formed a "deal" of sorts. the mind flayer wants to expand and vecna wants to control the rightside up. it makes sense then that the mind flayer would allow him "to transcend [his] human form" (see: he's no longer human, leeches off of others and the environment to survive, and seemingly regenerates when hurt + god-like powers when wielding the mind flayer) if vecna gave it entryway into the rightside up and formed a bridge between their worlds. everyone gets what they want: the mind flayer can grow its superorganism and vecna can continue to leech off of its power the way he has with literally every other being (the vampire reference was not just a joke) to "remake [the world] into something beautiful" (which is where will comes in).

they most definitely and undoubtedly are going to kill vecna. that much is obvious, i feel. the mind flayer, though... it can be hurt, sure, but can it be killed? or will it be a rehash of seasons two and four: different teams fighting together to weaken it enough that they can force it through the gates? something... like that? i don't know. how do you kill a storm? how do you kill a god? we saw already that you can't fight back infection/possession. so, what can they do?

the more that i think about it, the more likely i think that'll be. they'll be severely weakened and hindered by the monster apocalypse and we know that there will be teams in the upside down, too, so they'll all be fighting for their lives—not just eleven.

The Power Of (Gay) Love will close the gates permanently, because will is eventually going to accept himself and feel so loved that there won't be enough darkness for vecna to draw strength from, effectively starving him out and severing their psychic connection, and also i'm sure some cool freaky shit is gonna go down (which of course includes will pulverizing vecna as he should).

the mind flayer won't just pack its bags and go home afterward, but if will, the shaper of worlds, won't join him then it probably won't survive here because "it likes it cold" and... the world isn't... always cold everywhere? cue will's super cool fireballs shooting it back through the gate into the upside down or something while everyone is fighting with 1 hp and a dream. i don't know the details and i won't pretend that i do. i just know that this is stranger things which means that love is literally what always saves the day, so. 1 + 1 = vecna will perish and the mind flayer will be forced to go through the gates to survive and The Power Of Love will sever the connection between worlds so that they can live in peace. or at least as much peace as you can have after Alla Dat.

#mine #girl help i cannot stop thinking about that gay monster show!!!!!!!!!!!#not rereading this fucking gargantuan post btw if i repeat a sentence or stopped short then oh well. Read My Brain Dump Boy

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thedoomsbae · 5 months

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Writing thing!!!!

Saw @nullshocked’s post. If anyone else wants to do it, they can!

This piece is called Crystalline Decay, it’s for an original story I’m working on called Age of Heroes. It is… very rough around the edges tbh, but here we gooooo.

They had been speaking privately for days, some unknown number claiming that the Color Gang was going to shut down operations. At first, Hannya didn’t believe it, that is unheard of. For what purpose would the largest criminal organization in the world have to shut down? They haven’t experienced any trouble recently and it’s not like the Grey One is one to run (as much as Hannya despises him, she will give him that small amount credit). However, the slowing down of activity was not unnoticed, the rumor was apparently true. The unbelievable happened.

Now, here she waits in the empty lobby of the Epitome Hotel & Spa to meet her contact in person. The Epitome is the kind of hotel that people with too much money make a point to stay at with shiny black floors one can see their reflection in, art deco architecture throughout practically dripping with shiny gold paint. Everything is perfectly polished, not one speck of dust or shred of evidence that people actually spend time in this lobby. Not that they would need to spend time in the lobby when the rooms are just as pristine, polished, and too perfect to be touched by human hands. Hannya elected to lean against the wall as the couch and chairs are far too covered in decorative pillows to actually allow someone to sit comfortably. The concierge gives her a nervous glance every so often, he’s a foreigner, so he must be in with the shadow organizer of this whole thing.

“You must be Hannya,” a feminine voice calls out from behind her, she has a very thick Italian accent. Hannya raises her head to see a short, curvy Italian woman in her fifties. She has long, wavy red hair and a black and gold bejeweled dress, her heels click on the shiny black floor as she approaches. Whoever she is is beautiful and she knew it, sometimes that’s a dangerous combination.

“The mask certainly serves its purpose as a name tag,” Hannya responds, gesturing up to the pale demon mask that obscures her face, “And you are?”

“Viola Cassamento,” she states calmly, offering a silk gloved hand towards Hannya. Hannya eyes Viola’s hand suspiciously for the briefest of moments before extending her own gloved hand to shake. Just once.

Viola smiles, “Now that introductions out of the way, it would seem the situation has turned to your favor. I’m sure you have noticed the lack of activity within the Color Gang and my own people have done some light testing. The only problems we really get in terms of repercussion for moving in on their turf is your vigilante. Maybe one could be a problem in one area, but many people moving all at once in different places? I doubt even the teams of vigilantes could muster up the man power to stop us and well, with someone like you who has studied the Color Gang and knows where to hit? I daresay the Underworld would be ours.”

Hannya clasps her hands together, the leather of her gloves creaking as Viola speaks. She was right of course and the lack of activity would expedite her revenge. There would be nothing to stand in her way. “I shall test this theory, I suppose the others have also been contacted tonight?”

“Yes, they plan on making their own moves as well. I know you requested I meet you in person, so here I am. I would act sooner rather than later, though, who knows when they will be back,” Viola adds calmly, “but something tells me you have a plan ready, it just needs your go ahead.”

“You would be correct,” Hannya answers as she turns on her heel to walk out the door.

Viola calls a “Good luck” to Hannya, but her mind is already razor keen for vengeance. If everything went smoothly, she could have the whole operation in a single night. Hannya pulls out her communicator and brings it to her mouth the moment she is out the door.

“Operation Nurarihyon is go, you know your places,” she says, her urgency edging into her voice.

#writing #age of heroes #tagging games #original works

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electricfied-wolf · 3 years

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King of Spades in deltarune canon: Big, mean, tough, he sucks holy shit

King of Spades in literally any au I have: BIG FLUMFFY CAT DAD. LOVES HIS FAMILY. HE CRIES AT THE SIGHT OF SMALL THINGS BECAUSE SMALL CUTE.

#deltarune #deltarune au #my au #I saw a shred of evidence this man was actually good #and I TOOK IT #he's beautiful and i love him #I believe in fluffy cat-monster spade supremecy......#his design is like #based off of one my older aus #I also thought he had cat ears at first

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 3 years

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le deux, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: One rebel from the waist down plus Jeon Jungkook in a sleeveless tee equals two in the back of a car, fucking like animals as Jungkook takes pictures of it all on your phone. Per your request, of course.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; smut (fem reader, semi-public (car) sex, photography/filming of sex, m-receiving oral, cowgirl); non-idol!BTS; reader has a dimple and Jungkook’s inner monologue is basically in love with it; PWP? you decide happy jungkook day! :D 2021.01.09

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Jeon Jungkook thought he knew what he was getting into, but he sure as hell didn’t.

When he stepped through the gate, he thought, damn, it’s awesome that so many girls decided to wear such skimpy clothes to a rock concert. He figured he’d see some bouncing titty, flashes of ass, maybe the loss of some underwear because the lead singer was hot as hell. Dude was ripped and tattooed like nobody’s business. Dream body for Jungkook, to be honest.

If only his mom would let him get that many tattoos.

The right sleeve was already pushing it though. He’d have to ease her into it slowly.

Jungkook had gone alone, because his friends weren’t really into rock the way he was, but that was fine with him. He liked being able to enjoy himself without thinking too much about other’s opinions, even if they were his friends. Got to wear a sleeveless band shirt, tight black jeans, left his long black hair in a half-ponytail, and decorated his wrists with silver bracelets. He would have been more covered up if he was with his friends – didn’t want to make them jealous with all the stares he was getting with his tattooed right arm, after all.

And my body in general, he thought amusedly.

If he was younger, Jungkook would have been shyer about leaving himself so exposed like this, but he wasn’t, so instead he merely gave the stares a cocky smirk.

What was the point of working out if he couldn’t show it off a little?

He spied his seat and noticed there wasn’t anyone sitting right next to him yet. Odd. He had purchased relatively close seat and the concert was sold out. Hm. Well, maybe he should get some beer before it started.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her.

She was dressed like every other girl at the concert; smokey eyes, dark lips, black choker, shredded black crop top with an equally short fishnet shirt under it, pleated black miniskirt with silver buttons. A black strap over her chest. Knee-high black boots with buckles running all the way up her calf. Bare thighs and naked waist on display. Nice.

But that wasn’t why he paused.

He paused because she had a tattoo.

A single tattoo of black script around her waist. Her body was facing him, tilting her head at her phone, then looking down at the floor, at the seat row numbers. The tattoo was in English and Jungkook could read, a rebel. She turned, facing her left, and looked up, counting the stairs. He realized the black strap connected to a clear waist bag that she was wearing on her back. She twisted a little so he got a good view of her back, the part where it trimmed down to the curve of her round, perky ass.

from the waist down.

Holy shit.

She had a rebel from the waist down tattooed around her midriff.

His eyebrows rose so far up into his forehead in shock that he didn’t even realize she was crawling over the people to her seat. She had black, pointed nails and silver chains draped over the back of her hands. A charming smirk, dimple flashing as she apologized for bumping into people. None of them seemed to mind, probably because her skirt was flipping up and revealing the strappy black velvet panties she was wearing. She seemed not to notice.

She plopped herself into her seat and grinned, checking her phone again. She had a black case with a nine-pointed star on it. Held her phone up and took a selfie with that killer smile, her tongue between her lips.

With a start, Jungkook realized she was sitting in his seat.

“Hey, you’re sitting in my seat.”

She sat up and looked around, counting down the row. “Aw shit, you’re right. Sorry.”

She got up and flopped into the seat next to him. Jungkook sat down, careful with his beer and water bottle. The chair was still warm from her body heat. That would have bothered him if he wasn’t staring at her open legs. She sat unapologetically, man-spreading in her seat, thighs laid out like a five-star buffet.

If she asked, Jungkook would gladly partake in said buffet.

Her hands were holding her phone and she tucked her tongue in between her teeth as she typed furiously, nails clacking against the glass, lowering the phone to her lap. A long text exchange was visible on the screen.

“Argument?” Jungkook pondered out loud.

She chuckled darkly. “More like, ‘I ain’t sitting on your dick for any amount of money, you piece of shit, leave me alone.’ You think men could get the fucking hint.”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow even though she wasn’t looking at him. “Block him?”

She scratched her chin, sending the message. “I would, but if I do, my parents are going to have a fit. They’re trying to set me up with him.”

The show was almost starting. He could hear the instruments warming up.

“What are you gonna do about it?”

She raised her head and grinned at him. Her right dimple winked at him with her smirk. Damn. Jungkook loved dimples.

“Me? The same thing as I always do. Find someone to fuck and send him pictures.”

So that’s why Jeon Jungkook was in the back of this random woman’s car, gasping as he was getting the best head of his life.

And struggling to take a picture of it.

“Holy shit,” he hissed, one of his hands hitting the glass of the car window as she took him deeper, tongue running underneath the length, hips swaying, her waist tattoo clearly in his vision. a rebel from the waist down. She had told him her name earlier, maybe when they were making out in the concert seats halfway through the show, maybe when they were practically dry humping each other by the end of the concert. Not the way Jungkook thought he was ending this particular event and he would probably buy another ticket so he could actually listen to the songs properly.

The head of his cock was jammed in the back of her throat, continually being squeezed by her tight, wet vice.

Jungkook wasn’t complaining though, if you get his drift.

Her eyes flickered up and she smirked around his cock, right dimple appearing as her tongue slid out from her plump lips and curled around the base.

Jungkook snapped a photo.

“Fuck, that’s sexy,” he mumbled, turning the screen around to show her. She chuckled low in her throat, vibrating the head of his cock. Rutted him a few more times, making him moan at the euphoric sensation.

She removed her mouth and he almost whimpered, but she was speaking and he was listening, staring at her dimple and glistening pink lips.

“You’re good at taking pictures, Jungkook,” she murmured. “Get one of me on your balls.”

She lowered her head, lifting his cock. Black nails, silver chains, and long fingers wrapping around his stiff length, lifting his wet cock and placing her tongue onto his balls. His eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head. Fuck, he had never felt a better tongue, swiping back and forth, getting the full expanse of his balls as her other hand came up to smush them against her lips. He sucked in a breath and spread his thighs more, seeing saliva drip down, hitting the black towel she had spread out in her backseat.

Evidently, she had planned this shit.

Jungkook lifted her phone and pressed the circular button.

Her eyes flickered up at him again, smirk on display, tongue fully extended and smacking his balls back and forth, jiggling them with the wet pink tip. Hand firmly gripping his cock. The moans coming out of him could rival the best porn out there. His chest was shuddering, his sleeveless shirt forgotten and crumpled in her front passenger’s seat – he couldn’t really remember how it got there to be honest – and his pants were balled up around his knees, making this somewhat uncomfortable but also hot as hell.

Jungkook snuck a glance at her phone and realized he was taking a fucking video the entire time instead of a photo. Shit. He furrowed his brows and stopped it, switching back to photo mode, and took a picture the second she swallowed one of his balls in her mouth.

“Fuck!”

He nearly dropped the phone on her face as she sucked, eyes sparkling with mirth, doing some kind of crazy figure-eight maneuver with her tongue as he lowered his hand, gasping for breath as she pulled her head back and forth, jerking him slowly at the same time.

“I… might have taken a video,” Jungkook panted out, head tipping back and staring at the ceiling of her car as she switched sides, sucking harder and tonguing more intensely, back and forth, up and down, so wet he was losing his mind.

She hummed onto his fucking nuts and he almost exploded into her hand.

His hips rose involuntarily and the base of his cock smacked her in the nose. She had the audacity to laugh, releasing his balls, spit dripping down her chin. She cleaned it off with her forearm, also letting go of his cock.

“Let me see,” she chuckled, wiping her hand on the towel before grabbing her phone from him. Replayed the video. His own moans filled the car, far too fucking loud. Jungkook’s cheeks heated with embarrassment as she planted her warm, clothed pussy onto his naked thigh, bouncing on it as she gleefully watched herself making out with his balls.

“Nice. I like it,” she chuckled.

“You’re crazy,” Jungkook snickered. And she was, but this was also fun too.

The dimple came back. “Want me to sit on your cock?”

Fuck yeah, he did. “Least you can do for me, since I provided such excellent service.”

She lifted her hips from his thigh and handed him her phone back. Took the two sides of her strappy velvet panties and pulled down. His eyes widened seeing the long string of juices from the black velvet to her crotch, snapping against her thigh, the strong scent of arousal so apparent it suddenly dominated all others.

“Someone is gonna see you,” he breathed, seeing the reflection of her ass clearly in the window, in view of the vehicles around them. People were in their cars, waiting to leave. Maybe some of them were watching this crazy woman jumping on his dick. The thought made him smirk.

She reached over to the center of the car and pulled out a condom from the cup holder.

This woman was definitely insane and Jungkook was loving it.

She grinned back at him, ripping it open right in front of his face. Lowered her hands and rolled it down on his throbbing cock. He exhaled in satisfaction, watching her ass lower and slide her pussy to him, lifting her skirt so he could see. Clean shaven. Probably for the pictures. Damn. That was a pretty pussy, and she was soaking wet.

“You like me that much?” Jungkook teased.

She pressed the head against her glistening slit and placed her tongue in between her teeth, dimple reappearing.

“Fuck yeah. You’re hot as hell.”

He didn’t expect her to say that. His ears burned and his cock pulsed with need. He also didn’t expect her to shove his cock into her that roughly either, jerking her hips into his and pressing down. She chuckled at his breathless gasp, settling her thighs against his waist.

“Take a picture for me,” she purred. “Gonna show him how deep I can take your big cock, Jungkook.”

Did he have a big dick? He knew he was bigger than average for sure, but it wasn’t like he measured and compared sizes on the daily. Also, he tended to get bigger and harder the hornier he was and right now he was maximum aroused because her pussy was clenching around his dick, burying it all the way up to the tightest, deepest parts of her wet hole.

“You’re choking him,” Jungkook chuckled as she gave him a particularly tight squeeze. His cock throbbed in delight.

“Death by pussy can’t be that bad,” she teased. Her chain covered hand nudged his hand holding her phone. “Come on.”

He lifted the phone and she raised her skirt once again, letting him see. God, it was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen in his life.

“Should I take off my shirt?” she asked.

Jungkook made his dick jerk inside her and she moaned deliciously.

“Nah, he doesn’t deserve titties.”

She leaned back, pulling her skirt high and Jungkook took the shot of their joined thighs, her viscous juices shiny and smeared all over his crotch. Man, it had been a great idea to work out until he got that v-line. Matched perfectly with hers.

He turned it around and she bit her lip, grinning wide, dimple indented in her right cheek. Jungkook was beginning to become a fucking sucker for that dimple. He wanted to cause all kinds of trouble just to see it over and over.

“A rebel from the waist down, eh?”

The dimple stayed as she laughed.

“It’s a little bit of a lie,” she said mischievously as she began to roll her hips into his. “Because I’m definitely a rebel from the waist up too.” Her tongue extended, long, so fucking long and wet, almost touching past the midpoint of her chin.

Goddamn, Jungkook was glad he attended this concert.

She put it back into her mouth and began to fuck him hard, putting her back into it and smacking their hips together loudly, rocking the car a little, but at this point Jungkook was ready to go to jail for indecent exposure, head thrown back in her backseat, groaning as he felt her squeeze him with every descent, so wet that he felt like he was going to slip out while also feeling every contour of her pussy clamping down on him. He placed her phone on the seat and grabbed her thighs, sinking his fingers into her softness, drunk on the feeling, moaning her name as she used him like her favorite dildo.

“Ah, Jungkook,” she panted, smirk still on her lips. “You have a great cock. Glad I picked you.”

His eyes lowered, watching her through his lashes, seeing her smug expression. “I’m honored.”

She snickered. “Pretty face, hot body. Down to fuck.” That dimple. “I got lucky.”

Me too, he thought.

She placed her hands on his, sliding them up to her waist.

“Can you fuck me from below? Bet you’re great at it.”

He grinned and slammed his hips into her dripping heat. She moaned wantonly, grabbing his shoulders as he pounded her from below, feeling her clench and squirm, her walls spasming and juices leaking down his balls.

“A-ah, fuck,” he gasped, closing his eyes as he felt it. She must have orgasmed, but was too breathless to say as her nails dug into his shoulders, pushing her hips down as he jerked them up, meeting his thrusts over and over.

“Fuck, you’re so strong,” she breathed, pussy clenching again, splattering more onto his thighs, whole body shivering in his hands as she threw her head back, moaning his name. It sounded positively sinful from her lips and he loved it. The towel under them was soaked with bodily fluids and most of it was hers.

“Ugh, you feel so good,” Jungkook panted. “So fucking good when you cum for me, fuck, I thought girls couldn’t orgasm that easily on dick.”

She chuckled deep in her throat, bringing her head back and looking down at him, hair falling all around her shoulders, plump lower lip in her teeth. Fuck, her face was so fucking pretty.

Pretty fucking naughty too.

“Can’t speak for other girls, but I do love getting railed by a hot guy with a big cock,” she purred, licking her lips. “And you’re so hot you could spark a match.”

Was it possible to get harder because of a damn compliment? Because that was happening to Jeon Jungkook right now, his jaw clenching as he grinned, fucking her harder, deeper, bouncing her on his dick unashamedly, definitely catching someone’s attention out there because of how deliciously she was moaning for him, telling him how good it felt as her pussy violently massaged his entire length.

“Yes, yes, ah, Jungkook, your cock is so fucking good…”

It was getting to his head, shooting down to his spine, coiling tighter and tighter, smashing his hips into her tight, wet hole, every muscle on fire and vibrating with pleasure, her name falling from his lips repeatedly, feeling so good doing something so bad, pleasure so intense he barely heard someone honk their car horn cheerfully at their fucking.

“Fuck, I’m going to cum, fuck!”

He shot into the condom with a fierce jerk, filling it completely as she gasped, pussy tightening and throbbing around him as his crotch was soaked again, exhaling hotly into his face as she came with a shudder of his name, big smile on her lips.

Absolutely the best car sex Jungkook had ever had in his entire life.

She collapsed against him, pressing her hot cheek against his.

“I think someone honked at us,” she laughed, a little raspy from moaning so much.

Jungkook wrapped his hands around her waist, kneading it. “Cheering for me and my dick, I bet.”

She reached down and felt for her phone.

“You really gonna send him those pics?” Jungkook asked, panting from exertion.

“Do you not want me to?” Her tone had a hint of concern. “You’re in them too, so I won’t if you’re not down.”

He chuckled. “Just send him the one of you holding my dick and licking my balls.”

She held the condom down as she got off him, laughing. “Damn, how cruel. Showing off your big dick like that. You’re trouble, Jungkook.”

Jungkook looked over to his left. She sat down next to him, pressing her body close to his. Thigh against thigh, shoulder against shoulder. Dimple clearly visible because of her mischievous smirk. He leaned over and kissed it. He just had to. Her eyebrow raised, smirk turning into a pleased smile.

He grinned.

“That makes the two of us, doesn’t it?”

Her eyes darted around the rapidly vacating parking lot. Then they came back to his face, her lips curving into a grin to match his.

“Damn, I’m so lucky to have met you, Jeon Jungkook.”

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bts smut #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x you #jungkook scenarios

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fictionalabyss · 3 years

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Protector : Surprise?

Pairing : Dean x Reader, Sam, Alex (oc), Azazel, Detective Baker (oc), Ash, Brady (mentioned), Abby (oc) (mentioned)

Word count : 2,795

Warnings : Prison (mentioned), interviews/interrogations, pregnancy complications due to stress, bedrest, fear, panic, house fire, guns, violence, physical abuse, threats, murder, death . Series TW : Domestic Abuse is a constant topic- be it mentioned, or actually happening.

Continuation of this series was commissioned by : @iflostreturntosteverogers

Final part of Protector.

Masterlist • Patreon • Ko-fi.

Weeks passed, and everything was being dragged back up. New statements, new interviews. Alex was pulled in again, but this time he had both you and Brady with him and he was treated with respect. No asshole like Baker trying to stonewall him into some kind of a confession. “We just want to be sure this statement is correct, given everything that Baker’s done. Just a formality, I promise.”

New detectives and new experts poured over every detail of Dean’s arrest and the so-called case Baker was trying to build around the idea of Dean murdering your first husband.

You were brought back in the room yourself, asked why Baker had it out for Dean, why he was so sure Dean had killed your first husband. You were honest with that fact that you had no idea but you were scared. Baker scared you. Then you opened your phone, went to a picture and slid it across the table.

“When was this?”

“Yesterday morning. Around 11. I went out to check the mail and there he was.” It had scared you to find Baker parked outside, eyes boring into you. You had kept your eyes locked on his as you brought up your phone, snapped a picture and then called Brady. “I’d like to file a police report of continued harassment despite a restraining order. This isn’t good for my pregnancy. My doctor is worried.” You then slipped them a note from your doctor about the stress.

“Can I get a copy of this picture?”

“Of course.” They handed you your phone back and you were given an email to send the photo to.

Days turned to weeks as interviews continued, evidence was questioned and each and every lie Baker told was revealed. The stress of it all had gotten to be too much, your doctor putting you on temporary bedrest. All information about the case went through Sam, and you only heard bits and pieces of the good stuff, only things that would give you hope.

You saw Azazel a few times since that day in the grocery store. You’d walked out of your last doctors appointment to find him in the waiting room, eyes on you as you hurried past, Sam's hand on your lower back to keep you calm. Dean got a picture of that, too.

But since then, nothing. No Azazel, no Baker. Sam said Baker was under surveillance, and Azazel was now being hunted for betraying the patch. Apparently, someone had dropped a video of the arrest at the garage on their doorstep and they finally listened to what Dean had been telling them. One of their top guys was working the other side. And word was getting around fast.

It was another quiet day. Alex was at school, Abby was napping and you were relaxing in bed with a book while Sam headed out on a quick errand. Something about needing to pick something up for dinner, but he’d be back by the time Abby woke up. He promised. You hadn’t minded. Sam had been stuck to you like glue for so long now you relished the time alone. Finally.

The words started to blur, your eyelids getting heavy. Letting the book fall from your hand, you rolled onto your side, pulling the pillow close and letting yourself drift off to sleep.

A piercing sound snapped you awake and panic instantly set in. A fire alarm. Your fire alarm. It sounded like it was coming from downstairs. Getting up, you rushed down and followed the sound to the kitchen. You expected to find Sam cooking but instead found your stove on fire.

You were confused, how could that have happened, no one else seemed to be home and unless you slept walked down and then back to bed, it hadn't been you. You ran to yank open the cupboard under the kitchen sink and pulled out the fire extinguisher, working as fast as you could to get the fire put out.

As the flames died, you noticed something on your stove. A hand towel. It was mostly burned, some blackened shreds all that remained. You looked around the kitchen, looking for anything else out of place but found nothing. Brutus was barking wildly at the back door, desperate to get inside as his claws scratched against the glass every time he jumped against it. You had forgotten he’d been let out before you laid down.

You sighed with relief despite the uncertainty. You were just glad it was out, that no one was hurt. But before you could relax, let alone let Brutus back in, another smoke detector started going off. This time, upstairs.

“Abby!” Running as fast as you could back for the front stairs, you almost fell when he stepped out in front of you, blocking you off from the stairs and the front door. “Move.” You threatened, fire extinguisher clutched tight in your hands. He didn’t move, didn’t say a word, just gave you that cold dead stare he seemed to always be giving you. Your eyes shot to the stairs, this time a click of his tongue grabbed your attention over the sounding alarm and Abby’s cries.

“Don’t even think about it.”

Screaming, you went to take a swing at him with the fire extinguisher, but he far too easily knocked it from your hands. Then he swung, the back of his hand hitting your cheek hard. So hard in fact, that you fell to the floor, eyes wide with shock and fear.

“Why are you doing this to me? I didn’t do anything to you.. Please.. Please, just let me get to my daughter. Let me get her out. You want me, you can have me, please.. Just let me save her.” He just stepped closer, no answer, no change in his face at all. You tried to get up anyways, and he just hit you again. “WHY!?” you screamed at him as tears ran down your cheeks.

You were scared, you were terrified, it was that day all over again in your head, but just like that day you had a child to protect. You could hear Abby’s screams and it was killing you that you couldn’t get her, protect her.

“Because Dean Winchester deserves it.”

“FUCK YOU!” A boot came up in a kick, and you twisted yourself enough that the side of your ribs took the brunt of it instead of your stomach, but it didn’t stop you from crying out in pain.

Then he was leaning over you. “I’m going to make you hurt. I’m going to make it hurt so fucking bad you can’t move.” he smiled at you. “Then I’m going to watch your house burn down around you. Watch as that son of yours finds you. Then kill him too.” You shifted, ready to try fighting back, take a swing, anything, but he grabbed your face by the cheeks in one hand and put a gun to your head which effectively stopped any and all plans. “Then I’m going to wait. I don’t care how long it fucking takes, I’m going to wait. I want to see the look on his fucking face when he comes home to nothing. Because that piece of shit husband of yours took everything from me.”

Your eyes shot to the stairs again, Abby’s screams louder than anything to your ears, and he pushed the gun harder against your temple bringing your attention back to him. His gaze locked on yours.

Suddenly his face changed, and there was a blur of someone running past and up the stairs. Sam. You’d know that giant frame in a plaid button up anywhere. He was going for Abby, he was going to save her. Nothing else mattered.

Until you looked up and behind the man who still held a gun to your head. You couldn’t stop the tears that welled up all over again. “Let go of my fucking wife.” he growled out, a gun of his own in his hand and pressing into Azazel's skull.

“You’re going to have to kill m-”

You flinched as the shot rang out and blood splattered onto your face. You sat there stunned for a moment, not sure he was real as the body hit the floor. “Dean?”

“Surprise?” he gave you a half smirk.

“Dean!” you got up as fast as you could, throwing yourself against him not caring about the blood. You clung to him and cried.

“It's okay, baby. I’m home.” His arms wrapped around you almost just as tight. “You know I wouldn’t let anything hurt you.”

Then Sam down the stairs, Abby in his arms. “Here.” he told you. “Take her outside. Your bed’s on fire.” Your eyes shot to Dean.

“I’m not going anywhere, baby.” He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead and you grabbed Abby before heading out front.

You stood there, your forehead against hers as you cried. You had been so scared you’d lose her, so scared that you’d be stuck there listening to her die. That that would be what you died with in your head.

“Mom!?” Alex rushed over and you started crying even harder. “What the fuck happened?” He asked, ignoring Ash who hurried past and into the house. “That’s it, I’m out of school, I’m not fucking leaving you again!”

“You’re going to school, end of discussion.”

Alex’s head snapped up towards the voice. “Dean!” he rushed from you to Dean, who smiled and opened his arms. There was a moment of quiet between them before Alex pulled back. “What happened!? Why does mom have blood on her?”

“Better come inside and get cleaned up, baby.” You looked over at Dean, still so afraid. “Fire’s out. You're safe now.”

“Fire!?” Alex shot a panicked look to you and Abby, then hurried into the house and froze before getting too far. When you walked in, he was looking down at the body on the ground before he looked back up and met your eyes. “What the hell happened, mom?”

“He wanted to kill us. All of us, watch the house burn down around us so Dean would have nothing left to come home to. I thought I’d lose Abby.”

Alex turned to Sam. “I was getting Dean. Judge ruled last night he was to be released. He wanted it to be a surprise. I should have got dad to come stay with you while I was gone, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay.” you tried to reassure him, let him know that you didn’t blame him for this. Your voice probably wasn’t very convincing, at least not right now, not with all the pain and fear you were still processing, but you really didn’t blame Sam. “My protector showed up, right on time.” You looked up at Dean, letting him lean in and kiss you gently.

“Always, baby. I’ll always do everything in my power to keep you safe.” You gave him a small smile. “Now, get that ass up to the showers and then you’re on the couch. You’re supposed to be on bedrest.” Dean gave your ass a slap with a smirk. “Sammy, get dad on the line, tell him to get his ass over here and not to come alone. I need this mess cleaned. Alex and I are going to head out to get a new bed. Ash, you’re on babysitting duty.”

“Aye, aye, captain.” Ash mock saluted, making Dean roll his eyes.

“Baby, my jacket?”

“Where you left it.”

With another sweet and tender kiss, Dean headed upstairs and back into his bedroom. He ignored the blackened and burned bed at first, reaching into his closet and pulling out leather. It felt good to wear it again, to feel the weight of it and the patches stitched to it. His jaw tightened as he looked at the bed his children had been conceived in, the bed he’d made love to you in countless times, the bed you had been sleeping in just an hour ago. Azazel might be dead, but it didn’t end there.

And Dean had every intention of ending it.

He knew they were coming for him and he knew they’d be coming soon. He had to get away, he had to get out of town, out of the country. He needed to vanish for a while. Anything to stay out of prison. There was no way he’d survive it. Moving the curtain aside, he peeked out of the motel room and at the car he’d bought last night with cash parked directly outside. It was 2pm, and while the streets weren’t empty, everything was pretty quiet outside the Motel.

Perfect.

Baker grabbed his meager belongings, tucked his handgun into the back of his jeans, and rushed out to his car, eyes darting around as he hurried to the trunk and opened it, tossing his bag in. As he slammed the trunk shut, something was placed over his head that plunged him into darkness and he started to panic.

When he came to again, it was dark and he couldn’t move. His hands were tied behind his back, his feet tied together. He tried to get his bearings. He could hear the low rumble of an engine, the vibrations of a car driving down a highway. He knew he was in a trunk, now he just needed to find the tail lights and kick them out. Shifting around to give himself the space was difficult as he realized something else was in there with him, something big that smelt faintly of blood. He grunted when he hit his head and felt a small trickle of blood. “Shit.” he cursed and started kicking, hoping to meet his mark.

Suddenly, everything stopped, everything was quiet. Despite being in the dark under whatever was still over his head, his eyes frantically darted around as he tried to listen for what would come next.

Doors. Two of them, opening and closing, one on each side of the car. Foot steps, but faint. So he wasn’t on a solid road anymore, and not on gravel either, or a floor or the foot falls would have more sound to them. A field? Shit shit shit. A field meant open space. Even if he could get away and run, he’d be an easy enough target to shoot down.

The trunk opened, and hands reached in, yanking him out. He tried to fight them, tried to do what he could but he was put on his feet, dragged away from the vehicle and then kicked in the back of the knee forcing him to drop.

The hood was yanked off, and even though it was pitch black outside, he had to blink a few times before he could see where he was. The desert.

“You wanted to know where he was.” Baker’s head shot around and he found himself face to face with Dean Winchester. “You found him.” Dean pointed out into the desert, and Baker followed his finger. “There’s no marker, but he’s out there. He hurt her so I fucking killed him.”

Suddenly, a body was dropped down next to Baker, and he looked over to see Azazel, bullet wound to the head. Glancing up from the body, he saw Sam dusting off his hands. There was only one reason Dean would finally admit what he did. Baker wasn’t making it out of here alive.

“You hurt her.” Dean growled into his ear. “You fucking put my family in danger when I couldn’t protect them. She almost died.” Dean grabbed Baker by the hair and yanked his head back painfully. “MY DAUGHTER almost fucking died. Almost burned to death. Because of you.”

“I didn’t-”

“You did do this, Baker. You told him who they were, you knew what he would do. If I would have come home just an hour later..” Dean shook his head. “You can’t even imagine the level of hell I would have rained down on you.”

“Dean-” Dean straightened back up and put a gun to Baker's head. “Look I didn’t-” He was cut off by the bullet that ripped through his head and his body fell to the ground.

Dean was wiping down Baker’s gun that he’d just shot him with when his phone rang. Pulling it out of his back pocket, he smiled seeing your name light up his screen. “Hey, baby. You should be sleeping.”

“Woke up to pee and you weren’t back yet. Couldn’t get back to sleep. Are you going to be home soon?”

“I’ll be heading back home soon. Just finishing up something. You don’t need to worry, baby. No one’s ever going to hurt you again. Your protector is home. I love you.”

“I love you too, Dean. Be careful.”

“Always am.”

*If you like this, please consider supporting my work*

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quinncupine · 3 years

Text

Obscured Chapter Five: To Meet a Hero

Chapter Word Count: 5,576

Link: AO3

Relationship: Izuku Midoriya X Reader

Previous Chapter: Four Next chapter: Six

MASTERLIST

Warnings: Blood, mentions of drugs and drug use, language

...

One problem of working long shifts in the hospital, you had become a light sleeper, especially if you were on call. Since you'd been put on leave though, you didn't have to worry about getting called into the hospital last minute, but your body apparently didn't get the memo.

Izuku's phone buzzed on his nightstand, rattling the whole table. He blindly reached for it in the dark, the call screen lighting up the entire room. You pulled the covers over your face as the light burned your eyes. His eyes were still closed as he answered, voice rough with sleep. It took only a moment before they snapped open and he sat up.

"What do you mean?" He whispered, shuffling out of bed.

You peeked over the covers. He cracked the door just far enough to slip out of the room, leaving you in silence. If you strained your ears, you could hear his muffled voice talking to whoever was on the phone. The clock on your nightstand only read 2:34. Who would be calling so early in the morning?

Well, now that you were awake, there was no chance you were going back to sleep, especially now that curiosity had a hold on you. You threw the covers off and tip-toed to the door. From your position, you could hear him talking quietly from the living room.

"I know. I have a theory, but I didn't have any solid evidence yet." His back was turned and he was running a hand through his tangled hair. "Yeah, call him. Get someone to send a sample down." A beat. "Alright, alright, I'll be there as soon as I can."

You made your way to the end of the hallway and leaned against the wall, waiting for him to finish. Once he hung up, he let out a heavy sigh and turned around. He saw you and straightened.

"I'm sorry honey, did I wake you?" He asked.

You shook your head. "Who was that?"

"Kacchan." He looked down at the phone.

You smirked. "It's almost three. You're telling me the guy who is religious about going to bed by eight is feeling chatty in the wee hours of the morning?"

He cracked a smile and walked over to you, encasing you in his arms. "He was working." He laid his head on top of yours. "And, uh, I have to go meet him."

"Why," You pushed away so you could look at him. "Is he okay?"

"He's fine." Izuku headed down the hall, you trailed after him. "He's on his way to the hospital."

"You just said he was fine. What happened?" You walked into the room and sat on the bed.

He rooted through the drawers for some clothes. "He's bringing Kirishima in. He was hit by some sort of drug."

"Kirishima? Is he okay?"

He paused, staring at a pair of pants in his hands. "I don't know."

"I'm going with you." You headed for the closet.

He grabbed your hand as you walked past. "This isn't a friendly visit, they were working a case for me."

"The Kabuki guy, right?" You asked.

"Yes."

"In case you forgot, I've known Kirishima longer than you. If he's hurt I want to help." You reminded him. "So, I'm going."

He let go and waved toward the closet. "Alright, get dressed."

Once you were bundled up and ready to go, Izuku left a quick note on his mom's door, explaining what was going on. On the way to the car, he walked down to the police cruiser stationed right outside the house to talk to the officers.

You slid into the car and blasted the heat, pulling your coat tighter and snuggling your face into the scarf. It had to be single digits outside. The weather called for snow any day now and you couldn't help but be a little excited.

Izuku climbed into the car and adjusted his hat, his frizzy green hair poking out underneath it. He rubbed the cold from his fingers. "They'll be alert until I get back, she's in good hands."

He pulled out of the drive. You glanced in the rearview mirror, watching the cruiser until it disappeared when you made a turn. It was strange having cops watching the house at all hours, especially when you lived with a hero. At least they kept the reporters away.

In no time, you'd arrived at the hospital. Night traffic was the best, no one with any sense drove at this hour. And the hospital was usually pretty quiet this early in the morning, well except on full moons (but that's a story for another time.) As soon as you walked into the lobby, you saw your friend manning the front desk.

"Naizen!" your voice echoed across the empty lobby.

Naizen looked up from his workstation and smiled. "Midoriya, didn't think I'd see you for a while."

You gave him a cheeky grin, leaning on the desk. "Put ya on night duty again? What'd you do this time?"

He shrugged. "Some people just don't have a great sense of humor. It hasn't been the same without you here." Izuku walked up behind you and Naizen blushed. "Ah, hi Mr. Midoriya."

Izuku smiled, "hey Naizen, been a while."

He fumbled with his paperwork and nodded. "Um, so, uh, what brings you in this late?"

"Has Red Riot been admitted yet?" You asked.

Naizen nodded. "Oh yeah, heard they caused quite the commotion on their way in."

"Sounds like Kacchan, er, Ground Zero." Izuku corrected.

"Great, we need to see them," You straightened off the desk. "Thanks Naizen!"

"Hey, come on Midoriya," He leaned over the desk. "You know the rules."

You walked backwards and winked. "You owe me for the Kaoru thing!"

He raised his arms, "seriously?"

"See ya later!" you waved and grabbed Izuku's hand, escaping the lobby.

"Bye Naizen," Izuku said as he was pulled away. When you both made it to the hallway, he leaned towards you. "What's the Kaoru thing?"

"A smirk crossed your face. "Kaoru isn't a thing. He's a someone."

"Oh." Izuku nodded. "Oh."

For as smart as he was, he could be totally dense sometimes, especially with people. It took him a long time to see that you liked him and even longer to start dating. You actually had to enlist Kirishima's help, he was your in, a true wingman.

You snaked your way through the halls until you finally made it to the E.R. entrance. Technically, you were supposed to stay away from work while on leave. So that technically made you a visitor, and visiting hours weren't until ten. But this was your E.R. Your second home. So you walked in with your usual confidence, and was immediately stopped.

"Well, if isn't Y/N Midoriya." An annoyingly familiar voice said.

You took a deep breath and turned. "Haru. Figured you'd be running things while I'm gone."

Haru wasn't smiling. "You're not supposed to be back for another two weeks."

"Yeah, I'm not here for work." You messed with your scarf.

Haru sniffed. "You of all people should know visiting hours have long since expired."

Izuku stepped up. "Actually, we're here working on an investigation." He said politely. "Do you know where we can find the heroes Red Riot and Ground Zero."

That question was answered by a guttural scream coming from the end of the hall. He excused himself and headed down that way. You followed, but Haru stepped in your way.

"Just because you're married to some big hero, don't think you're so special Y/N. You only got this job because of his status, it's good P.R." He whispered. "But I'm in charge now, things are gonna change around here."

You knew he hated you, but that was a new low. Brushing the comment aside, you pushed past him and caught up with Izuku, frowning. The shouting was getting louder and more intense. Something crashed and you both ran the rest of the way.

The door was shut, but you heard multiple voices yelling inside. Izuku opened the door to a chaotic scene. Kirishima was on the bed, struggling with Bakugo who was trying to keep him pinned there. He must have been tied up at one point, but now the safety straps looked shredded and hung uselessly off the side of the bed. A nurse had backed herself up against the wall, watching wide-eyed as the two heroes struggled for control.

"Dammit Red, stop fucking around!" Bakugo pushed Kirishima back into the bed.

Kirishima was yelling incoherent nonsense, swinging his limbs violently. You'd never seen him act this way, it was like he had gone feral.

"What's going on?" Izuku rushed over and helped pin Kirishima down.

"What does it fucking look like!" Bakugo yelled. "That damn drug is still running through him!"

You went over to the nurse. "Hey, Juichi, you alright?"

She'd only been working here for a couple months, still a newbie. You'd taken her under your wing, a mentor of sorts. Her hands were shaking, she'd probably never experienced something like this before, she was still too green.

"He just woke up and tried to attack us." She couldn't take her eyes off the scene. "I was supposed to hook him up, draw some blood, but..."

You took the I.V. bag she was holding. "I'll take care of it."

Her eyes finally found you and a wave of relief passed her face. "Thanks Midoriya." She scurried out of the room.

You turned back to the heroes. Kirishima was still trying to get free, wildly swinging his arms and legs at his friends. Izuku was trying to get him to calm down, but you'd seen enough drug cases come through to know that wasn't going to work. It didn't even look like Kirishima was lucid enough to understand them.

"Can't you give him something?" Bakugo turned his attention to you. "A sedative or something?"

"Not until I know what he's been dosed with." You walked over to the bed, standing behind Izuku. "Treating him without knowing everything could be just as dangerous. I need to know what the drug is."

You went over to the sink and washed your hands, then rummaged through the cabinets for supplies. With gloved his, you grabbed the needle and went back over to the bed. "I need you to keep him as still as possible."

"Wait, you're not going to do that while he's like this are you?" Izuku asked.

"Well, do you know when he'll calm down? Or even if he'll calm down?" You prepped the needle. "We need to know what we're dealing with now, so yes, I am."

He didn't say anything else, but Bakugo spoke up. "Well, if you're gonna do something, do it now!"

You gripped the needle and stepped close. Kirishima eyed you and growled, lashing out. He was foaming a little at the mouth, which meant that this was worse than you initially thought. You'd have to work fast.

Izuku held his arm down firmly while you positioned the needle and tried to slide it in the crook of his elbow. His skin hardened, preventing the needle from piercing. That was a problem. His hardening quirk looked like it was on the fritz, activating and deactivating seemingly at random. He didn't look in control at all. You touched the spot you needed, watching as random parts of his arm hardened and softened. As soon as the crook of his elbow softened, you jabbed the needle in, a little more harshly than you probably needed to, but he didn't seem to notice. He might not even remember this when he's back to normal.

Blood filled the vial in no time and just as quickly as you inserted the needle, you plucked it out and placed a band aid on his arm, jumping back. "Okay, done."

You placed the vial in a bag and stepped outside, collecting your breath. Juichi was standing around the nurses station, nervously shifting from foot to foot. As soon as she saw you, she came over.

"Juichi, can you run this down to the lab." You handed her the bag. "I need a rush order on the tox screen."

She nodded and took the bag. "Of course, I'll make sure." She took off down the hall.

"Oh, and on your way back, please get more safety straps!" You called after her.

After taking a moment to collect yourself, you stepped back in the room. Kirishima was still struggling, but at least he seemed to be tiring himself out.

"The tox screen shouldn't take long. Once we know what we're dealing with, we can go from there..." You trailed off.

You happened to glance at the ground where Bakugo was standing, a small pool of blood had built up. He was wearing his winter costume, which meant that he had more layers and armor, but that didn't mean it protected him completely. If you looked close enough, you could see the hole in his shirt and the dark red blood that plastered it to his skin.

"You're injured." You walked over to him.

It's fine. Just a little scrape." He glared at you.

"Let me take a look." You went to the counter and grabbed some supplies.

Bakugo didn't move, stubborn as always. You rolled your eyes and looked to Izuku.

"I can hold him down Kacchan. You should get that looked at."

Bakugo scoffed. "I said I'm fine."

You weren't going to back down, especially when he was bleeding everywhere. "And I told you to let me take a look."

You two had a stare-down. Bakugo wasn't the type to give up so easily, but neither were you. An entire minute went by until Izuku couldn't take it anymore and spoke up, but Bakugo barked him into silence. After a few more seconds Bakugo twitched and let out an annoyed huff, breaking eye contact with you.

"Fine, just make it quick." He growled.

You pulled up a stool for him to sit on while he peeled off his shirt. The thing was sticky with blood and you tossed it into the trash. His whole chest was coated in dry blood from the mess of a cut on his shoulder. The thing about cuts, they bleed worse than the wound usually is. After cleaning him up, you examined the damage. It was deep and looked like someone jabbed a mini blender inside. It looked entirely too painful, but Bakugo wasn't one to complain about things like that.

"I can stitch it up for now," you finally pulled your hands away. "But you should probably see a healing specialist."

"Just stitch me up." He waved you off.

You went to work, patching him up as he made little grumbly noises, refusing to look at you.

Izuku kept Kirishima in place easily as he turned his attention to Bakugo. "How did this even happen? This doesn't look anything like Trace."

"Tell that to the masked freak." Bakugo growled. "It's his drug."

"Start from the beginning."

And he did, rather grumpily, but he explained the whole story. When he was done, you closed off the last stitch and wrapped some gauze around his shoulder. You offered him a scrub to wear, but he refused, so he had to settle for his half bloodied jacket.

Juichi came back with straps and the results. While the boys strapped Kirishima down, you looked through the tests. The drug seemed to be a similar compound to Trace, but it had new elements too, one's the screen couldn't identify.

When you explained the findings to the two, Izuku crossed his arms in thought. "If Kabuki was the mastermind behind Trace, then he could very well be trying to enhance the drug."

"So this serial killer is good at science too, that's great." You mumbled.

Bakugo was still standing over Kirishima, but he'd been triply strapped down this time and he seemed on the verge of passing out. At least he wasn't screaming anymore.

"Can you give him anything?" Bakugo asked. "To reverse the effects."

You crossed your arms. "Trace is still fairly new, but there have been a few medications that seem to help with the side effects. This drug is similar enough that it might work, but that's a big maybe." You looked through the reports again. "The good news is that he didn't have much in his system."

"That just means that a little goes a long way." Bakugo narrowed his eyes. "It probably wouldn't take much to kill someone."

"He's obviously planning something with this." Izuku muttered. "Kacchan, did he say anything else to you?"

Bakugo glanced at Kirishima. "It's obvious he hates you. But," he walked over to the door and shut it. "He knows about your quirk. Either he's our guy from the station, or a whole group knows about you now."

Izuku rubbed his eyes. "Thought so. Everything is connected." He paced the room. "But how did he find out?" The only other people that know are All Might and Tsukauchi."

"And All For One." Bakugo added. "He could have told anyone, he probably did tell others."

"He's dead and the league disbanded." Izuku said, not looking convinced.

"That's what All Might thought the first time too."

That was a reassuring thought. "I know it's a big secret, but how is this information dangerous? What would actually happen if the public found out?"

Izuku frowned. "A lot of things. They could connect me to All For One, they could lose faith in me. It's better if it stays a secret."

On the bed, Kirishima finally passed out. You did a quick check up to make sure he was still alive and the medication you administered seemed to be working. His vitals were steadily improving. The only good side of this drug was that it didn't seem to stay in the body long. It works loud and fast, but breaks down just as quickly. You had no idea how long it would be until he woke up. It was a waiting game.

"So, this guy's got a grudge against you, that much we know." You said. "Can you figure out who he is?"

"Working on it." Izuku said.

"His quirk is metal manipulation, it's how he caught Kirishima," Bakugo explained. "That narrows it down, unless he's our guy from the station. That would mean he's got multiple quirks. If that's true, I think metal manipulation is still his primary quirk; he'd mastered it."

"I checked through all my arrest reports, any metal manipulators I caught are locked up. I checked on them personally." He shook his head. "I must be missing something."

There was a knock on the door. You opened it up, expecting Haru to force you to leave. Instead, Tsukauchi was standing there with his typical trench coat and hat. He looked like he had just woken up and given how early it was, he probably had.

"Oh, hi Chief." You greeted. "I suppose you're here about Kirishima."

He nodded and came in, greeting the others. "Sorry to interrupt Mrs. Midoriya, but could you give us a minute."

You glanced at Izuku and left the room. The hallway was empty so you headed over to the nurses station and chatted with Juichi and a couple of the other nurses that had to work the graveyard shift. They were happy to see you back. No one liked working under Haru's strict reign. You were so invested in your conversation that you didn't hear him come over.

"You're here to work, not chat." He scolded the nurses.

"Relax Haru," you gestured around. "There's no one here."

His lip twitched. "What are you still doing here anyway?"

"I'm waiting for my husband."

"Well do your waiting elsewhere," he growled. "You are disrupting my E.R."

You stood up. "God Haru, who rammed the stick up your ass?"

Maybe it was because you were tired or maybe it was because you thought he needed to hear it, but you knew you shouldn't have said anything. Your tolerance seemed lost on this guy. He knew exactly how to upset you and seemed to enjoy doing so.

The nurses scrambled, making quick excuses of checking on other patients and disappeared.

Haru grinned. "Oh Midoriya, you've really gone and done it now."

You didn't trust yourself to speak so you stormed off. Needing to clear your head, you decided to just head back to the main lobby and cool down there. You were so lost in thought that you nearly flattened a child coming around the corner.

"Oh, woah," you caught the girl as she slammed into you. "Sorry kid, are you okay?"

She blinked and nodded. "Sorry Ma'am."

The girl was wearing pajamas and an admittance bracelet. She couldn't have been older than seven or eight.

"Uh, are you out here alone?" You glanced around the hall, looking for anyone resembling her parents.

Her eyes went wide. "I'm sorry!" I couldn't sleep. The medicine gives me weird dreams."

You gave her a reassuring smile and knelt down to her level. "Don't worry, you're not in any trouble. I couldn't sleep either."

She studied you for a moment, in your heavy coat and jeans. "Are you sick too?"

"No, I'm just a nurse."

She finally smiled. "I like my nurse, she's really cool. She always has the best scrubs."

"She does sound pretty cool." You held out your hand. "I'm Nurse Midoriya, what's your name?"

She took your hand and shook it lightly. "Miwa."

"Well, it's very nice to meet you Miwa." You stood up. "Can I walk you back?"

Her hand slipped into yours. "Is your name really Midoriya?"

You glanced at her Deku themed pajamas and smirked. "Yup."

"Does that mean you know Deku?" She was staring at you in awe.

"Are you a fan?"

She nodded so fast her mousy brown hair tumbled into her face. "Yeah! I know all about him! I've got all his action figures and I saw all his interviews and movies." She pulled at her pajama top. "My dad got me this for my birthday last year. Now the only thing I need is his autograph!"

You laughed. "You remind me of him."

She stopped to absorb that fact. "Really?"

You crouched down and looked both ways before whispering to her. "Wanna meet him?"

If her eyes got any wider, they were going to pop out of her head. "YES!"

"Alright then, let's get you back to where you belong first."

Miwa took off down the hall like a torpedo and you followed. Along the way, you pulled out your phone and texted Izuku. Miwa ran through the doors of the Pediatric wing and the nurse at the station desk looked up as she flew by.

"Miwa," the nurse said as she passed. "You know you can't run in the hall."

"Sorry Miss Sumiko!" Miwa stopped at her desk. "But I'm meeting Deku! Can you believe it!"

The nurse cocked her head. "What?" Then she saw you. "Oh, I see. How lucky are you little missy."

Miwa jumped up and down before sprinting to her room where her dad was snoozing on the reclining chair beside the bed. She jumped into his lap, startling him awake.

"Daddy, Dad!" She shook his shoulders. "I'm gonna meet Deku!" She pulled at his cheeks. "Did you hear me?"

He sat up, adjusting his glasses. "W-what's happening?"

You walked into the room. "You must be Mr. Miwa. I'm Nurse Midoriya."

He stood up and shook your hand. "Yes, nice to meet you. Um, is everything okay?"

You nodded. "Yeah, I was just accompanying little Miwa here back to her room."

Mr. Miwa sighed. "I'm sorry, was she roaming again?" He turned to his daughter. "Takara, I told you not to go running off by yourself, especially at night."

She frowned. "Sorry." Then she bounced on his foot, pulling at his pant leg. "But Dad, she knows Deku!"

"That's nice sweetie," he patted her head. "I hope she wasn't too much trouble."

"Not at all." You waved him off.

"She said I could meet him!" Miwa was grinning ear to ear.

He looked back at you and you shrugged. "I did sort of promise her."

"See!" Miwa tugged at his pants. "How cool is this!"

"Uh, come again?" He looked genuinely confused.

"With your permission, of course." You held up your palms.

"Wait, so you know Deku?" He was still putting two and two together.

"Yeah, we stopped by on business. He's actually on his way over right now."

Miwa stopped tugging and looked at you in amazement. "Wait, so he's coming here right now!"

"He's actually already here." Izuku popped his head in the doorway.

"OhmygoshDadit'sDekucanyoubelieveithe'sreallyhere!" She practically tore his pant leg off.

Izuku stepped into the room, wearing his charming smile. "Hope I'm not interrupting."

Miwa ran up to him, but stopped short of slamming into him. Her self restraint was waning by the second as she squirmed in her spot. "Mr. Deku!"

He knelt down so they were face to face. "Hey Miwa."

She turned to you, mouth agape like she couldn't believe he knew her name. You may or may not have texted him that part.

"I heard you like heroes." He said.

She bobbed her head up and down, still in a bit of disbelief.

"Me too." He winked.

"Do you remember that time you fought that giant water villain downtown? Or when you had to catch that bus full of people that got carried into the sky? How strong are you? Your quirk is so cool! Is it true that you can fly or do you just use your quirk in a different way? Oh, what about Blackwhip, is it just-"

"Woah, Takara, slow it down." Her father put a hand on her shoulder. "One question at a time."

She blushed. "Sorry Mr. Deku."

"That's okay," he chuckled. "And yes I do. That was a pretty tough villain. My quirk may make it look like I can fly, but I can't actually fly. I just figured out how to use my quirk in many different ways, just like Blackwhip."

"Wow." She hung onto his every word. "What's it like being a hero?"

Izuku thought about it. "Hmm, well, I get to help people everyday and get to stop the bad guys. But, there's a lot more to being a hero than just taking down the villains."

"Like what?"

"Well, let's see," he tapped his chin. "To be a good hero, you have to be kind, brave, and selfless. But most importantly, you have to be true to yourself.'"

She grabbed his arm. "Do you think I can be a hero someday?"

He had a far away look in his eyes for just a split second. "If you truly want to be a hero, then nothing can stop you."

She looked back at her dad who was smiling, but underneath his glasses, his eyes told a different story. Miwa was too enamored by Deku to notice, but you sure did. You'd seen that look often enough to know what it meant.

"You're so cool Mr. Deku!" She pointed to the bedside table. "Wanna see my drawing book? I drew my own hero costume for when I'm older! I used glitter pens!"

"I sure do." He let her pull him through the room.

"Excuse me for a moment." Mr. Miwa said and left the room in a hurry.

You watched him duck around the corner. Deku and Miwa were too absorbed in the drawings and talking about heroes to notice. So you decided to follow him, quietly slipping out of the room. When you finally found him, he was sitting in the small lobby area, hunched over his knees and staring at his hands.

"Mr. Miwa?" You called from across the room. "Are you alright?"

He jumped when he heard your voice. "Oh, yes sorry." He cleared his throat. "I didn't mean to run out like that. That was rude of me."

"I don't mean to pry," you came closer. "But, is everything okay?"

He stared at you for a full minute before his composure crumbled. His head dropped into his hands as he tried to contain the sobbing that racked his body. You sat next to him, gently laying a hand on his back. There was always someone that needed consoling in the E.R. and you'd gotten pretty used to being that person.

"I'm so sorry," he sniffed after awhile. "I didn't mean to trouble you with this."

"Don't apologize, you're allowed to have feelings." You said quietly. "I'm here to listen if you want to talk."

"It's her quirk." His lower lip trembled. "An anomaly, they said. A mutation. It doesn't change the fact that it's killing her and it's all my fault."

You were quiet. There was nothing you could say to the man to convince him otherwise. Quirk defects weren't all that common, well the dangerous ones anyway. A lot of people suffer minor inconveniences due to their quirks. But in rare cases, the quirk simply isn't compatible with the body. It's unfortunate, but it does happen.

"I'm sorry." You murmured.

He leaned back and took a deep breath. "It's just me and her now, I can't imagine when..." He couldn't finish the sentence. "She's everything to me."

You couldn't imagine being in his shoes, all alone. He was living every parents worst nightmare and there was no waking up from this one.

"She wants to be a hero more than anything. It's her dream." A broken smile formed on his face. "Deku is her inspiration, she looks up to him like he's the sun. I'm glad she got to meet him. Thank you."

The two of sat in silence for awhile before Miwa zoomed into the lobby, waving around Izuku's ballcap.

"Daddy, look, look!" She smashed the cap in his face. "Deku gave me his hat and look right here," she tapped the brim. "He signed it for me. He signed it!"

Izuku trailed in after her. "In exchange for a future hero's autograph." He held up a picture of the design of her own hero costume with her scribbled name in the corner.

Mr. Miwa listened to his daughter gush about her new hat as she bounced around the lobby. You stood up and walked over to Izuku, looking at the drawing. The costume was drawn to resemble Deku's with matching green and a lot more glitter. It was actually pretty good for a seven year old. She might've made a good artist one day.

"Thank you Deku." Mr. Miwa held out his hand.

"No, thank you. You've got a pretty good kid there sir." He shook his hand.

Miwa came back over, still staring at the hat. "Thank you so much Mr. Deku!"

Deku knelt down and placed the hat on her head. It was way too big and slumped over her eyes. She giggled and peeked out from under the brim.

"Remember Miwa," he said. "You can be anything if you work for it. Don't ever give up on your dreams."

She nodded earnestly and slammed into him with as tight a hug as she could muster. Her little arms barely reached across his chest. He hugged her back with a chuckle. When she stepped back, he readjusted the cap for her so she could see this time and tapped her nose.

"You'll make a fine hero someday." He winked. "I'll be waiting."

Her smile was brighter than All Might's. "I'll make you proud!"

Mr. Miwa thanked you both before taking his daughter back to their room. You stood quietly as the pair left, talking about the hat. Then it was just the two of you in comfortable silence.

"She reminds me of me." Izuku took your hand.

"That's what I said." You lead him out of the wing, back towards the main entrance.

You yawned and leaned against him. He wrapped an arm around you. "Ready to go home?"

"Was Kirishima still sleeping?"

"Yeah, the doc said he was stable. Should wake up by morning."

You looked at the floor. "Can I even ask why Tsukauchi was there?"

He flexed his fingers around your own. "He was just following up on Kacchan's report. The case is technically still the police's."

"I see." You rubbed circles on his hand. "No other surprises tonight, right?"

He glanced at you. "What kind of surprise are we talking?" A devilish smirk crossed his face. "Did you want another surprise?"

You smacked him playfully. "Don't talk the talk if you can't walk the walk."

He suddenly swept you off your feet in one easy motion to carry you bridle style, without even breaking a stride. "Oh, I can definitely walk the walk."

A laugh escaped your lips and you glanced around. "Stop, someone's gonna see us!"

"Then let's go where someone won't see us." He grinned, twirling you around.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and brought him down for a kiss. He set you back on your feet so he could pull you back in for a proper kiss. You lost yourself in him for a moment and when you came back up for air, you touched your cheeks to cool them down. He pecked your forehead and wrapped an arm around you, continuing down the hall.

"I have an idea." You whispered.

"Oh yeah? Does this idea involve a private room?" He nibbled at your neck.

"Maybe." You grinned and pulled him down a side hall.

...chapter 6

Tag List @miriobaby @hmm-cats @thecindy @awilddreamerwrites @sailorstupidsblog @kehlaniwwe @kenmaskitten10 @slytherintothedms

if you want to be added to the list, just let me know Loves! Thank you!

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creativekat · 3 years

Text

PTC, part iii

gif by @pascalsky

Word Count: 2,367

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Unintentional body piercing play, again (Marcus control your hands!); allusions to naughty thoughts

A/N: @the-purity-pen and I continue to be overwhelmed by the response to our story! I, for one, could never have imagined this response! Thank you so much! If you want to be tagged for future segments, let me know! Missy’s teacher helps Marcus in the kitchen for the sleepover. Part One | Part Two

Marcus was pacing his kitchen, his mind trying to conjure up the list of ingredients he would need. He was moving from cabinet to fridge to another cabinet. His hands moving across the packages and containers that he thought he would need. The only thing he forgot about was slicing the pepperoni. He had grabbed the stick of pepperoni from the fridge and stood in front of the knife block on the counter, one hand on his hip, the other running over his scruff in thought.

“Dad, you good?” Missy asked as she came into the kitchen, watching her father with a furrowed brow.

“Hm? Oh, oh yeah. Just fine,” he murmured as he turned to face her and swallowed a large lump that had formed in his throat.

Missy’s eyes moved to the counter with a curious nod of her chin. “What’s all this?”

“Uh, we’re gonna make personalized pizzas,” he told her and her face lit up with a laugh.

“You? You’re gonna cook?” she questioned with her arms crossing over her chest, her hipping popping out to one side, the stance that she definitely took after her mother. When Marcus opened his mouth to quip back, the doorbell rang. “Expecting someone?” Missy chided, knowing that all of her friends were out in the living room gossiping and showing off their powers.

You tried not to be nervous as you waited for someone to come to the door, but you couldn’t help yourself. You didn’t typically go over to your students’ homes. You weren’t typically invited to your students’ homes. And you really couldn’t help remembering what had happened at the grocery store. Your face burned at the memory.

The door opened and there stood the student in question. She looked at you with surprise and curiosity, “Are you here to see my dad?” Her head tilted as if she were working a math problem and the numbers weren’t quite adding up.

When she put it that way, you wondered if agreeing to this had been a bad idea. But, then you reminded yourself of the reason you’d been asked over. You replied, as calmly as you could, “I’m here to help your dad… with cooking and stuff.”

You nearly laughed out loud at the look of relief on Missy’s face, “Oh gooood!” She sighed the last word.

Suddenly, Marcus appeared at the door, “Don’t leave our guest standing outside, Missy.” Then looking at you, he said, “Come in, come in… do you want something to drink?”

You nodded as you stepped inside, “Water would be fine.” Suddenly you felt parched. Marcus nodded with a tightlipped smile as he turned to lead you down the front hall to the kitchen. You followed him slowly, taking in a bit of the pictures that hung on the wall and the obvious artwork that was done by a much younger Missy.

Your smile must have been evident when you walked into the kitchen because when Marcus turned around with the pitcher of water from the fridge he threw a smile in your direction. You straightened yourself up trying to calm the sudden onset of butterflies blooming in your chest.

“Dad, you’re actually gonna let her cook right?” Missy tried to confirm and you simply let out a soft giggle. Marcus snapped his head around with a playful glare on his face towards his daughter.

“Don’t you have friends to go entertain?” he quipped back but it was all bark with no bite as a wide grin spread his lips. Missy scoffed and rolled her eyes, her arms crossing over her chest with a hip popped out.

“I mean, I guess,” she said before breaking into laughter and shaking her head at her father and turning to run away to the living room. You were laughing as you looked after her before turning to see Marcus holding out the glass filled for you.

“She’s something else isn’t she?” he asked as he moved past you to the fridge to replace the pitcher.

Nodding, you couldn’t help but laugh, “She’s a great kid. You’ve done a great job with her.” Of course, you knew he hadn’t always been doing it alone. She’d had a mother. He’d had a wife. One that he’d loved very much from everything you’d heard.

You took the glass of water from him, immediately taking a sip, hoping to quell the flame that you felt burning your throat and threatening to climb up to color your face. You had always thought Marcus was attractive, but the few insights you’d had into his true self, the non-hero side of him, made him that much more appealing to you.

Setting the glass down, you rubbed your hands together, “So, what needs to be done? Put me to work, Mr… Marcus.” You stepped forward looking up at him.

Marcus smiled at you, “Well, the pepperoni still needs to be sliced up if you want to handle that?”

You took the knife from the counter where he’d left it, “Wow, you didn’t just get the pre-sliced kind? That’s … pretty serious for a man who can’t cook.” You winked at him with a chuckle and then turned toward the counter, mouthing the words ‘oh my god’ to yourself at such a bold move.

Marcus felt his breath hitch at the simple wink from you. You were attractive and funny and intelligent and Marcus had developed a small crush on you over the last year but having you this close to him made him more nervous, especially because you were in his house.

“I definitely wasn’t thinking,” he admitted shyly with a dry chuckle as he moved over next to you and reached for some bowls he had gotten out. He started to open the packet of shredded mozzarella and elbowed you gently in the process. “Oh! I’m so sorry! Are you okay?” he asked immediately, real concern lacing his tone.

“I’m okay Marcus,” you laughed. “Perhaps you don’t know your own strength huh?” you teased again and then mentally chastised yourself for being so flirty and forward.

In the living room, Missy’s friends asked her who was at the door and when she told them it was their teacher, the eyes lit up in curiosity. “What is she doing here?” Wheels asked with enthusiasm. “Probably just trying to make sure we’re doing our homework,” Wild Card chimed in as he tried to make just his hand go invisible.

“No, she’s here to help my dad cook. Trust me, it’s for the best,” Missy said and the others laughed as Noodles got up and moved over to the wall to stretch his head around to peek into the kitchen.

You and Marcus were busy with the food that you didn’t even notice the gathering of small eyes peering in at you. You removed the pepperoni from the package and began to slice it, though you noticed your hands were trembling slightly. Your skin tingled where Marcus’ elbow had made contact and you felt warm all over.

Having a crush on a student’s parent was never a good idea. Even so, you couldn’t help wanting to feel him brush against you again. Again you remember what happened in the store earlier in the day and the knife slides through the pepperoni at an awkward angle, bouncing off the cutting board. “Sh--oot.”

Marcus looks over at you with alarm, “Are you okay? Did you cut yourself?”

“Nope, just a bit clumsy. I’m fine.” You gave him a reassuring smile and went back to your work. You heard a hinge squeak and glanced toward the door leading to the other room, where Missy had gone, but you saw nothing.

Marcus gave a soft smile but noticed the way you were holding the knife and how it wasn’t cutting the pepperoni quite right. He furrowed his brows for a moment before clearing his throat. “Do you, uh, do you want me to show you how I cut it?” he asked and before you could answer him fully he was moving behind you.

You thought he was going to have you step aside so he could demonstrate so you made to move but his hand came around to cover yours on the handle of the knife. Almost instantly, you felt a shiver run down your spine from his touch. You tried to keep your composure before completely melting into his touch. Despite the size of his hands and the calloused fingers, he was gentle but firm in his hold on you.

His other hand took yours and guided it to the opposite edge of the pepperoni stick. His hand started to guide yours but within a moment, you felt the familiar tug on your piercings. His powers had activated to ensure the smooth cut with the metal blade and he hadn’t even noticed that that was how he was able to perfect his cuts.

You struggled to control your breathing as you forced yourself to focus on what Marcus was showing you. But, your nipples were being traitorous little bastards, perking up under your shirt and bra, sending jolts of electricity throughout your body. You closed your eyes for a moment and bit your lip. If crushing on a student’s parent was a bad idea, then jumping him in his own kitchen (with said student in the next room) would be an even worse one. Your grip tightened on the knife handle. Your voice came out tightly, “Yeah, I get it now.”

Which was a lie. The only thing you fully understood was that Marcus Moreno was turning you on big time and you were pretty sure he didn’t even know it. A suspicion confirmed when he stepped away, giving you a small pat on your shoulder, “Okay then, let me know if you need more help.” He side-stepped back to where he’d been working, hoping you didn’t notice the way his body had reacted from being so close to you.

Once again you heard the slight squeak of the door hinge and looked up. But, again, you didn’t see anything. Glancing at Marcus, still breathless, you asked, “do you keep hearing that? Or is it just me?”

Marcus went back, his focus attempting to stay on the food before him and the little bowls but his eyes kept darting over to you every few moments. Being that close to you made his chest tight and he had to stop himself which is why he asked if you understood what he was doing.

But when you asked about the noise, he paused, his ear turned towards the living room and listened. He didn’t hear anything but his hand came to his face where his thumb scratched the tip of his nose. “How much you wanna bet it’s the kids?” he asked and chuckled. “Missy is quite nosey when it comes to my love life,” he laughed nervously.

You found a quiet smile and chuckled right with him. It was really endearing the way Missy cared so much for her father. Marcus went back to focusing on the food, trying not to stare at you too long. If he had, he would have started blurting things out that he didn’t want to scare you off with.

“That’s an easy bet,” you laughed as you went back to slicing pepperoni. This time you made sure to cut even slices. You knew at least one of the other kids in there would have a personal interest in what might be happening between you and Marcus Moreno. This thought made you frown, because you also knew his father had made it explicitly clear that he was not to admit to knowing you outside of class.

You pushed the negative thoughts away and continued on your task, finishing up the pepperoni easily now that you’d cooled off a little from what had happened a moment ago. You set the knife down and went to the sink to wash your hands, “Is there anything else I can do? Or are we ready for the kids to make their pizzas?” Then with a sly smile directed his way, you added, “I can be on oven duty… to avoid any unnecessary calls to the fire department.”

Marcus chuckled, shaking his head, “You too, huh?” You grinned. It felt good to spend time with an attractive, grown man. Even if it was just as friends, or a helping hand. It had been a long time since you’d felt this content around another person. That thought probably should have scared you considering who he was. Instead, you felt a pleasant warmth flowing throughout your body.

Marcus nodded. “Yeah, it’s probably time for them to join us,” he told you as he walked closer to the living room to call out to them. “Hey kids! Let’s make pizzas!” he called and suddenly an onslaught of footsteps and noises started to come from the living room, building louder as they all piled into the kitchen.

Marcus moved out of the way as Wheels made his way in. The kids all circled around the kitchen table and took a seat, making room for Wheels to slide his chair up next to Missy. Marcus moved the bowls from the counter and you helped move the plates that they were going to build their pizzas on and turned back at the same time as Marcus to grab the dough but you bumped into each other from trying to cross paths.

“We gotta stop doing that,” you giggled quietly and let Marcus walk past you. He would later admit to himself that the sound of your giggle sent a large shock down his body, like he wanted to reach out and touch you right then. But it would be inappropriate so he just cleared his throat and nodded and walked to get the dough.

The two of you stood by as the kids laughed and joked and flung a pepperoni piece here and there at each other as they made their own pizzas however they wanted them. You couldn’t help but steal glances at Marcus every once in a while and when his gaze met yours again, you felt your heart flutter.

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trollartistry · 3 years

Text

Fleeting Reunion

Doing a drabble again! No art this time, but I might draw it later. I had the idea of ‘what if Nemi reunited with Classic Freddy as an adult?’ and wanted to do something with it.

Now, just an FYI, this drabble’s based on the idea that *somehow* and for *some* reason, the old classic animatronics were kept and used as parts or something for the new Glamrocks. Also dunno what year Security Breach canonly is in so I’m using our current year, 2021. So I’m really breaking canon here- oh well.

Story under the read more!

The first time Nemi discovered the old, beat down classics, he was shocked and thought he had been seeing things. Tucked deep in the pizzaplex was a parts and services room, and while he worked as a nightguard, on occasion he’d act as a mechanic. The man only had been looking for a basic piece to replace in Monty’s arm as it had broken mid golf swing, and it was an easy fix. But Nemi found more than just the part he needed- he found 4 familiar animatronics from the pizzeria he used to go to as a child; Foxy, Bonnie, Chica, and of course Freddy.

It plagued his mind, and it unnerved him every time he had to go into that room. They weren’t even that dismantled, if anything just.. broken. The foam and fabric on all of them torn, Chica’s hands were missing, Bonnie’s face was gone, and Foxy looked shredded up along his limbs and ear. Freddy was the only one that looked mostly decent, but the state he was in infuriated the nightguard. All of these beloved robots, just dumped in the back with no care in the world.

And then Nemi’s thoughts went from a simple, curious walk to a manic, inquisitive run. Were they the same four from that old pizzeria he attended on a weekly basis when he was a child? Why were they here? Could they still work if he powered them up? What would he even do once he turned them all on and they were the old ones he once knew? ...Would Freddy remember who he was, if Nemi was to power him up?

Finally his willpower broke one night. He had to know. He would only power up Freddy, just to see what would happen. If it wasn’t the same Freddy as the one all those years ago, he’d just shut him back off and let his burning questions fizzle to forgotten ash. And if it was the same Freddy, well.. they could at least catch up.

He spent a good month or so sneaking in, fiddling with wires and parts to make sure the bot could turn on without much difficulty. Thankfully, it seemed any evidence of his tampering either went unnoticed, or wasn’t reported cuz no one ever stopped him. And finally, one night, he was done. All there was left to do was flick the switch and power Freddy up. Nemi took a breath in, muttered his hope, and flicked the switch.

Sparks sputtered and the whole frame of Freddy jolted as power ran through his circuits, causing Nemi to jump back. Inside there was whirring, old inner workings flowing with electricity. The man watched, unsure if his heart was racing with hope or anxiety as the bot’s eyes twitched a bit, before blinking, focusing in on the darkened room and the person before him.

Freddy sat up against the wall, ears tilting a little and he blinked once, twice. Nemi could tell he was confused immediately, the way his eyebrows furrowed and he shut his jaw in a pursed manner. There was silence, an uncomfortable silence and Nemi didn’t know what to say or do, Freddy was just sitting there..

As Nemi opened his mouth, Freddy blinked with some recognition and spoke, unsure, “..*D-Deadname*?”

It’s a name that hasn’t been used by friends or family in so many years, only used for legal manners. But hearing it makes Nemi choke on his words as his heart clenches with emotion. So it is the same Freddy, and he recognizes him even after all these years.

“..Y-yea, it’s me, Freddy.” Nemi said, coming back over to kneel down before the sitting bot, unable to help but grin at him. “I don’t- don’t go by that anymore b-but it’s me.”

Freddy’s silent as he looks the man over, obviously a bit frazzled seeing someone he last saw as a child now kneeling before him as a grown man. He then looks around the room, and sees all of the different parts, and his fellow animatronics. He’s quiet as he takes it all in, and even though he’s old and worn, Freddy was wise and knew what this entailed. They weren’t in use anymore and instead replaced.

“I uh.. go by Nemi now.” Nemi said, bringing the bot’s attention back to him. Freddy blinked, then softly hummed a little as he nodded, “Nemi.. it’s.. unique.”

“Heh.. yea, got it during highschool.” Nemi replied. It’s quiet again and Freddy’s once again looking around, and Nemi wiped his watery eyes before deciding to explain, “You uh.. You’re in Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzaplex. The year’s 2021.. I guess you guys are being used as parts now.”

“2021?” Freddy asked, attention back on Nemi. The man nods and Freddy gives a quiet sigh, “..I’m amazed we’re still in solid pieces then. Or that I even work..” He looked down at himself.

“I uh.. had to fix you quite a bit actually just to get you to t-turn on..” Nemi said with a shrug. He’s looking over Freddy again, and now that the animatronic’s on and talking, it makes his withered state hurt Nemi all the more. Freddy doesn’t miss the first tears dripping down the man’s face and he tries to distract him from his emotions, “Hey.. at least my name’s still out there, right? Surely there’s another model of me still keeping an eye on you.” He smiled.

Nemi’s heart only hurts more than that. Glamrock Freddy was just as incredible as the classic, if not more, and sure, the man loves him dearly.. but he could hear his younger self weep in the back of his mind, ‘But that’s not MY Freddy!’ Nemi clenches his eyes shut at that, a sniffle escaping him, and Freddy quietly sighs before he opens his arms, the old joints creaking. “Shh.. come here, it’s okay.”

The guard, though grown, can’t help but immediately close the distance to hug the beloved animatronic, a sob escaping him. Freddy holds him close, and recalls the few times he did this to Nemi when he was a little girl. He begins to try and play the same tune he did back then, but realizes he no longer has his music box, only a soft clicking noise coming from the inner crank that was left installed to turn it. So instead, Freddy talks and hopes his voice offers that same comfort.

“I missed you.. It’s nice to see you grown up.” Freddy said softly, removing the security hat from Nemi’s head to stroke his hair soothingly. Nemi manages to whimper out that he missed the bot as well, along with an apology that makes Freddy hush him softly, “You have nothing to be sorry for, Nemi..”

The brunette pulls back a little, shaking his head as he tries to wipe those spilled tears, “I-I didn’t even get to say goodbye to you back then when I had to move.. A-And now, here you are, i-in the back of a damn mall collecting d-dust and in pieces-” He began, and a old paw cups his cheek.

“None of that is your fault.” Freddy said as he comforted the man, “What matters is you had a good life after your time with me. I knew I would eventually be taken down from the spotlight, either for good or for a new model to replace me.. it happens, Nemi.”

Nemi looks at the bot who gives him a warm smile, the same smile he would give him all those years ago. It calms some of those bubbling sorrows, but Nemi still can’t help but sniffle.

“It’s been, what.. 10 or so years? And you’ve changed so much.. we have time, why don’t you tell me what you’ve been up to? Just like old times.” Freddy offered, and Nemi nodded.

He told the bear about his father’s passing, the many years of moving before he ended up in his aunt and uncle’s care. How he discovered his own identity and realized he was a man, and graduated highschool by the skin of his teeth. Freddy listened to all of it, just like how he used to listen to Nemi as a child talk about his days back then. He then asked about the pizzaplex and how the man enjoyed working there, and Nemi in turn talked about the whole place and the Glamrock animatronics. Freddy’s amused at how Nemi talks about Glamrock Freddy- its that same admiration the man had for Freddy back then.. and something more, Freddy can tell. The conversation helped Nemi calm down and it was comforting to Freddy himself to know he was still loved by people, even if it was a completely different model. But a glance to his watch told Nemi he only had another hour or two before his shift was up. Before his time with Freddy, was up.

“..Y’know,” Nemi began after a silent moment of just being close to the bot, “I think- I think they’d get along fine with you and the others.. I could work on them too, get them up and running, and-”

“No.” Freddy shuts down the idea with a frown. It hurts to do so, but he knows his place. “I’ve had my time on the stage. We all have..”

The nightguard looks shocked at Freddy’s answer, and tries to change his mind, “F-Freddy c’mon, it’ll be fine! Maybe- Maybe HR would consider refurbishing you guys and you can be part of it all even-!” He said, voice cracking with desperation and Freddy cups the man’s face again, eyes sternly looking down at him.

“You and I both know that’s not how it would go, Nemi.” He said, “Even if we got along with the Glamrocks, it’d be trouble for all of us to be on again. You already risked your job just to get me back online, do you know how much trouble you’ll get into if you left me on?”

“I don’t care!” Nemi exclaimed, not caring just how childish he sounded, “Do you know how much I missed you when I had to leave?! And now here at my job I find your- your broken body just laying here and not know if it was really you and now that I put in all that work, it really IS you?! I-I can’t just- power you back down and forget about you after this, I-I wont! I love you too much to lose you again!!”

There’s a silence, and Nemi’s face grows red as he realizes what he said was selfish and childish of him, along with a confession for the old bot. Freddy’s surprised to hear it, but he then smiles, brushing back some of the brunette hair.

“I know. But you’ve never lost me nor forgot about me, have you? You got a job at a place with my name still in it, along with getting along with another me.” Freddy said warmly, “I know it’s hard.. but it’s for the best. If you kept me on, it would jeopardize everything and you could lose everything you have here.. including that Glamrock version of me.”

Nemi’s eyes widen, before looking away with sorrow at the thought of losing Glamrock Freddy. Freddy was right, but the thought of having to turn him back off had Nemi’s heart twisting in agony. “..B-but.. I can’t..” He whimpered, and Freddy pulled him back into the embrace.

“I know it’s hard.. but you have to.” Freddy murmured. “I’ll still be here, in more ways than one.”

Nemi nodded, fresh tears spilling as he let out another sob, “Can- can I hear your song, just one last time..?”

Freddy may of not had his music box, but he began to hum softly, letting the man hear that tune once more. They stayed there in the darkness of the room, Nemi quietly crying in Freddy’s arms as he listened, before sitting up as the last few notes were hummed. Nemi opened up the bot’s chest, reaching in to that power switch and looked up at Freddy, the two sharing one last gaze.

“G-Goodbye, Freddy..”

“Goodbye, Nemi.”

And with a flip of the switch, the sound of machinery powering down echoed in Nemi’s ears as he watched the life fade from Freddy’s eyes as he slumped against the wall, eyelids closing over. The man closed the chest plate, staring at the bot with a heavy heart before picking up his hat and getting up. He went to the door, pausing to take one glance back to the beloved bear, before exiting the room, the thud of the door closing behind him echoing down the hall.

A week later when he has to go in to that same room, he’s griefstricken to see the four bodies of the classic animatronics were gone for good and for the rest of that night, it’s spent sticking close to Glamrock Freddy as the new, shiny Glamrock model of his beloved childhood friend still brought the man comfort and happiness.

#nemi babbles #story #drabble #five nights at freddys #fanfic #fnaf fanfic #fnaf security breach #freddy fazbear #glamrock freddy #self insert #self insert x canon

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jcmorrigan · 3 years

Note

Blakeworther,,,but college

OKAY. I SAW THIS LAST NIGHT AND WAS THINKING ALL THROUGH LAST NIGHT AND THIS MORNING BECAUSE THIS HAD TO BE GOOD

Blakeworther: ORIGINS (hopefully actually canon-compliant?)

-Vincent didn’t want a roommate. But RMU has a policy that unless a first-year has an extreme medical condition that requires them to room alone, they have to double up due to high attendance rates vs. limited dorm space. So unfortunately, Vincent needs to stay in the same room as this “Victor Blake” person he’s never met before and probably won’t like.

-He opens the door to their room on the first day. Victor is already there, decorating his half of the room. And you think Victor is a flirt nowadays? This is a Victor straight out of high school, with lingering teenage hormones. He takes one look at Vincent, gives him a coy smile, and just goes “Hello, beautiful.” And winks.

-Vincent goes “Don’t talk to me” and starts setting up his side of the room.

-Well, that’s rude. Victor tries to engage in conversation a couple more times, but Vincent makes it clear he is NOT HAVING IT, so Victor eventually gives up and pouts. (Vincent really is pretty. But more importantly than that, Victor kind of wanted his roommate to be his friend. That seems like a requirement for the college experience.)

-Oh, well. If they can put up with each other for one (1) year, they can request new roommates for their second year.

-Vincent sets off for his 8 a.m. on the first day. Psychology 101. He gets going at about 7 because he NEEDS to make a statement by getting there first. Back in high school, he was valedictorian, and he must continue to show people how classy, smart, and punctual he is.

-He arrives at the classroom. Seemingly empty. He strides through the door -

-The next thing he knows, he’s on the floor. Someone has screamed. He thinks it’s him. He’s disheveled, his books scattered. What just happened?

-After assessing the situation and going over the split-second incident that is retroactively gelling in his memory, he realizes that he walked through that door, and somebody who was waiting on the other side of the wall, just around the corner and out of sight, leapt out and JUMPSCARED him the moment he walked in.

-He looks up at the perpetrator who stands above him, giggling his ass off. This asshole is wearing a bright pink shirt and he’s admittedly kinda cute but also this was unforgivable.

-Victor: “What the HELL was that for?” Pink Shirt Man: “I knew someone would come along who thought they were first, and I wanted to make it clear this is my territory. I was here for fifteen minutes before you.” Vincent: “Why the HELL were you waiting here for fifteen minutes - “

-He makes a point of gathering up his books VERY ANGRILY and stomping to the furthest corner of the classroom to sit as far away from Pink Shirt as possible. Then glares at him venomously.

-So. A word on Albert. He grew up an only child with very few friends. He’s got a roommate too, but the guy’s an introvert in dark glasses who barely talks, spends like all his time watching anime, and is visibly just scared of Albert. So that friendship is out the window.

-(Yes. It’s Winston. He has not had an easy life.)

-This leaves Albert, who has no idea how to appropriately interact with people but has way too much pent-up energy, trying to figure out how to get people’s attention so he can make friends. But when I say he has no idea, I mean he has NO idea.

-So he sits down in the front row where his stuff was previously and just turns and STARES AT VINCENT until the rest of the class files in. Vincent keeps his eyes turned anywhere but at this Pink Shirt Creep because who stares at somebody over their shoulder for ten solid minutes?

-Albert chalks this up as a victory. Sure, this dude hates him, but that’s more attention than he was getting before!

-For the rest of the class, Vincent is hoping they can just move on and have a normal day in which he knocks every question fired his way out of the park. But that’s not what happens. What happens is this PINK SHIRT ASSHOLE in the front row keeps answering questions without being called on, and not even seriously. With the most MORBID sense of humor.

-Prof: “What are the three ways to study the brain?” Albert: “Smash open the test subject’s skull, rip it out, and have fun.”

-Vincent KNEW the answer was “lesion, stimulation, recording” and he’s so mad.

-He leaves this class grumpy.

-He’s on an alternating schedule, so block A of classes one day, block B the next. His next classes for A day go well and he gets to show off a fair bit of his intellect. But then the last class of block B and it’s art.

-Guess who’s there? Not Victor, unfortunately!

-Vincent walks in the door and THE PINK SHIRT ASSHOLE is there and Albert just waves at him “Hello” and Vincent is in hell.

-Same thing. Albert spends the whole class being obnoxious and annoying, but in a way that gets the other students to laugh. And Vincent just stews.

-Over the next few days, Vincent spends a lot of study time in his room rather than in the library because it’s quieter. Victor respects that Vincent will complain if there’s too much noise and so wears headphones when he’s working because he likes music in the background.

-One day, he accidentally rips the headphone jack out of the laptop and the song he was listening to blares over the dorm. He fixes the volume, already going, “Well, sor-ry for the accident - “

-Vincent: “Actually, I like that song. Have you listened to the album or do you just like it as a standalone?”

-Victor: “I...I saw them in concert, actually.”

-They have the first real conversation they’ve ever had since they moved in together because they ended up liking the same song. And they’re happy to be talking about it. This is good! Maybe they can be friends after all!

-First exam in Psych 101. Vincent feels pretty confident. This is a test he didn’t really put too much effort into studying for because he’s confident he memorized everything from high school. Well...as it turns out, he didn’t. But he fudges it as best he can, sure he’s at least doing better than the simpletons of the class. He’s the only one who takes this seriously, after all.

-Exam results come back, and the prof reveals that he’s graded on a curve. One student and one alone got a 95% on the exam; the rest failed horrendously.

-Vincent is about to rest on his laurels when the prof says “And that person is Albert Krueger.”

-Who the hell is -

-PINK SHIRT ASSHOLE stands up and bows playfully.

-Vincent now has a name for his nemesis. ALBERT KRUEGER. He’ll remember that and not be happy about it.

-So he’s chatting with Victor a lot more now as they hang out. Victor has a problem one day because one of his econ courses has a particularly picky prof who’s failed every single one of his essays to date, and he’s afraid he’s going to actually fail his favorite subject.

-Vincent takes a look at that prof’s notes. To his eyes, it’s easy to see what arbitrary hoops the prof wants Victor to jump through. It’s also easy to see that Victor actually is doing what’s asked of him and grasping the material; the prof just demands these extra trappings, probably as a power trip.

-Vincent knows exactly how to write the next paper to make it fit requirements. And so he says, “If you don’t have a problem with plagiarism, I can get the next one to pass.”

-Victor: “Well, don’t make it too perfect, or they’ll catch on.”

-Vincent writes Victor a solid B- of a paper. And it’s graded with the expected B-. Victor is SO thankful and calls Vincent a genius.

-About time someone around here did. Since it strokes his ego, Vincent offers to do any paper Victor wants for him, free of charge.

-Meanwhile! In art class, they’ve been assigned a midterm visual art project. Vincent can already tell that his piece is...good but not great. You know who’s making a fantastic landscape painting that everyone else in the studio ahhs at every day he works on it? AAAAAALBERT KRUEGER.

-Vincent is trying so hard not to explode.

-Vincent and Victor decide to eat lunch together because they like each other now. They head on down to the cafeteria, load up their plates with food, go to get the last two puddings on the shelf -

-Somebody takes the last two puddings.

-GUESS WHO?

-Albert: “I believe it is they who snooze who must lose.” He didn’t even want two puddings. But while people can get temporarily impressed with his prowess, annoying people is the only way he can REALLY get lasting attention. Most people go “Albert’s painting is so cool!” and leave. Vincent, though? Vincent keeps on making a SCENE out of it and Albert likes that. So he made sure neither Vincent nor Vincent’s friend could have any pudding.

-Vincent and Victor sit down, pudding-less. Victor: “Who was that guy?”

-Vincent explains the whole thing. He rambles for almost the whole lunch period about how much he HATES Albert. Culminating in how he knows that Albert’s art project is going to get highest marks and make Vincent’s look so much worse by its very existence.

-Victor: “You know...I have a plan, but it’s not entirely legal. If you want to get back at him, though...” Vincent: “I’m listening.”

-They break into the locked art studio after hours and RIP ALBERT’S PAINTING INTO SHREDS. That’s, like, twenty hours of work just gone. They leave no evidence.

-The following day, Albert approaches the two of them at lunch: “I know it was you. You can’t lie to me about this. From now on, we are at war. You, Vincent, are my mortal enemy. And you, Vincent’s accomplice, I know were talked into this by him, but you’re on the thinnest of ice.”

-Vincent’s fine with this. Victor thinks it’s funny and doesn’t own up to having come up with the idea.

-Anyway, Vincent and Victor start hanging out more, so when there’s a school dance, they decide to go together. Just as bros, not as PARTNERS what are you even - no. Platonic. Heheheheh

-And they have a good time dancing! Vincent doesn’t normally like this sort of thing, but Victor’s into it, so they’re cutting a rug.

-A small throng of students is gathered in the middle of the floor, watching some spectacle. Victor wants to see what’s going on. So he brings Vincent over.

-Everyone’s watching a particular student just absolutely breakdance with the greatest of skill. And GUESS WHO?

-Vincent enters RAGE MODE

-Victor: “Oh, no, here we go.” (Secretly thinking to himself that Albert did have some sexy moves indeed.)

-Vincent storms in and CHALLENGES ALBERT TO A DANCE-OFF. Albert accepts. Victor calls himself a third competitor so as not to be left out, and Vincent rules that either he or Victor winning will be a victory for Vincent.

-Well, Albert gains more applause by a LANDSLIDE. Vincent and Victor are good dancers, but Albert is FANTASTIC. Vincent complains the rest of the night and Victor’s just “Look, I know he was gorgeous and he got all the attention but please pay attention to me”

-Things continue like this until the next semester, when classes are shuffled and FINALLY Vincent is free of Albert.

-You know who walks in to find Albert just staring creepily at him from the front row of his first class? VICTOR.

-It’s Biology. Right away, the class gets a partner assignment, and the prof sticks Albert and Victor together.

-Might as well make the best of this.

-So they get to just awkwardly chatting. Victor tries to keep himself level-headed. Albert still doesn’t know it was Victor’s idea to destroy his painting. So they’re just playing it cool.

-And...it’s actually kind of fun to talk to one another?

-Albert lets slip that he likes bio a bit better than psych, but everyone’s expecting him to take up the position at Krueger Health Corp. Victor’s just like “So fuck ‘em. Switch majors.”

-Albert then blurts “Have you ever wanted to dismember someone who wronged you?”

-Victor: “Yes. All the time.”

-So for the first time, somebody is giving Albert attention that is NOT rivalry and is NOT just marveling at his talents and antics. This is new. He’s not sure how to handle it.

-For the rest of the semester, Victor is technically on Team Vincent, but he still waves at Albert when they pass on the grounds.

-Vincent and Victor go off campus to a house party with alcohol! Albert doesn’t actually show up to steal the spotlight this time. And...that kinda pisses Vincent off. Where IS he? He usually shows up to these things -

-Victor tells him to pleeeaaaase stop obsessing about Albert, please. (But Victor also kinda wishes he was there and isn’t sure why.)

-Later in the night, some beefy upperclassman starts a fight and threatens Vincent. Vincent and Victor are both buzzed and riled up. Victor jumps in and decks the guy to protect Vincent. The guy decks him right back and HARDER. So Vincent tackles the dude because now HE’S protecting Victor.

-They both end up in the hospital with broken bones. Roommates, again. And when they look at each other across their hospital room, they realize something has changed. That they now know they would defend each other to the death, and each has to repay the loyalty of the other. They’re in this for the long haul, and most certainly not going to request new roommates.

-They get their classwork shipped into the hospital and have some nice calm chats with each other, away from the buzz of student life.

-Albert, however, suddenly has his archnemesis and his lab partner both MISSING and it’s driving him insane. Where are they where are they where are they

-When they get released from the hospital and finally go back to campus, Albert has to refrain from RUNNING UP TO THEM AND HUGGING THEM BOTH. HIS LIFE HAD NO MEANING

-Instead he says “Pity. I’d’ve hoped that you’d die and be out of my hair.”

-Vincent and Victor can’t really admit how much he was the missing piece of their lives either.

-It’s gonna be a few interesting years at RMU.

#vincent edgeworth #victor blake #albert krueger #blakeworther #vincent the secret of myers #vtsom #therapy with dr. albert krueger #twdak

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littlefreya · 4 years

Text

Heart of Darkness

Synopsis: Slight sequel to Overprotected. Walter’s longing wife comes to visit him at his office.

Pairing: Detective Walter Marshall x OFC

Word count: 3.9K

Warnings: Explicit, graphic smutty sex, rough oral sex, choking, role play, pleasure denial, rough sex. MaleDom / FemSub. Slight fluff though.

A/N: A special thanks for @agniavateira or helping me proof my work. I don’t own Night Hunter / Nomins or Marshall!

Title: Heart of Darkness

The heating is broken at the station. It’s either that, or Walter came up with some new methods of torture to interrogate his suspects. I’ve never seen him in action, I’m not sure if it’s the shame of this very darkness that lives within him, or his desperate attempt to keep me safe from the horrors of the night. His colleagues filled me in a while ago, mentioning he tends to go rough, violent, even brutal at times.

They know very little for I bask in Walter’s darkness. I’m the first to witness the terror that consumes him and shadows his soul. I drink from his desire, joining him in this violent lovemaking. It’s the only thing that helps him cleanse his demons.

It brings us closer.

And yet, he doesn’t want me here. He fights to keep me secluded as if I was some porcelain doll.

As if I don’t see my share of blood and death every day.

I walk through the chilled halls of the station, wrapping my arms around myself to keep warm. Even though I’m wearing a large, thick winter coat, it feels like it’s four degrees here. I shouldn’t have worn a skirt beneath all this, but how could I have known? I left five text messages which remained unanswered. It’s not unusual. He is busy, and sometimes he forgets.

It doesn’t mean this doesn’t piss me off.

I find him in his office, with a phone pressed to his ear. His bulky body faces the window while he talks down some crime lab trainee for messing up the evidence. He turns to see who dares to barge his office uninvited, his blue eyes pale as glaciers. They immediately melt as he realizes it’s me.

“I don’t care how. Get a new sample or I’ll make sure you’ll never hear the end of this!” He ends the call without a goodbye and drops the device on his desk. His arms grab the edges of the chair tightly while he stares down, letting his soft dark curls fall on top of his forehead.

“What are you doing here, pet? You know I don’t like you coming here.”

I take off my long coat, hanging it next to the door. His office is only slightly warmer. It’s smaller, and Walter emits enough warmth on his own. Everyone is walking around in their coats and jackets but he's in a black wool sweater per usual, with the sleeves rolled up to expose his wide forearms.

“I missed you” I answer, pretending not to tremble but the fumes that come out of my mouth give me away.

I take a small, slow twirl in the secluded space, inspecting the room. There's so little light in here. On the shelf, he has some books about the history of crime and criminology, with his diploma and badges of honour laid next to it. Not out of pride, but out of compliance. Walter is not an arrogant man, he’s actually the opposite. He doesn’t have time for chasing glory, all he does is out of pure heroism, some would even say out of altruism.

The morbid photos next to his desk catch my eyes. Images of victims. They hang on a board latched to the wall, along with a map, and a thick, red string that trails the locations where the bodies were found. These are young women, mutilated, their lives were stolen from them by selfish monsters.

I get to see my share of blood every day, sometimes even death. But, this is not something anyone should see.

And this is what he sees all the time, probably also in his dreams. The ghosts of the girls he couldn’t save haunt him; it’s not his fault, but he’d never see it that way. For him, every girl who died on his watch is a girl he has failed.

My fingers press against the ring on my finger, twisting it anxiously. I can feel my heart shrinking to the size of a walnut. I wish I could suck the pain out of him as you do with poison.

“I told you…” he speaks with a deep frown on his face, as if he is angry with me for entering his cave of horrors. He was in a foul mood before I got here, and I defied his request. I am the one teasing the tinders with more wind and fuel.

All I wanted was to bring my light into his world, at least for a little while.

“You visit me at work all the time,” I answer, inching closer toward his desk. I try to ignore the sourness in my throat as the horrifying images on the wall stare right at us.

He gives me a small smile, almost invisible amongst the wrinkles of grumpiness on his forehead.

“It’s a part of my job to come to the hospital, and it’s the only one in the county.”

That’s how we met.

I was in my first year of residency. The tall, burly man with the most caring blue eyes appeared in the hospital. I have seen Walter once before that, spending an evening at the local Irish bar with his friends. The toughness on his face was the only thing I remembered then. I thought he was hot, obviously, though I didn’t bother approaching him.

I didn’t fall in love with him until I saw the ocean of benevolence he kept under that hard shell.

He came to visit a victim and stayed the night to make sure the aggressor won’t return, and that the girl is taken care of. I felt his eyes on me every now and then, silently observing me when I was checking up on other patients. He tried to strike a small conversation, about the girl first, and then about my job at the hospital. I believed the British giant was just being polite and passed the long, boring night by chit-chat. I should have known I was being interrogated to see if I’m single or not.

Suddenly, he appeared at the hospital every other day, to check up on “the girl”. The first night, he brought me some coffee because “I work crazy hours,” and he thought I’d like some to drink. Then, it was coffee and a sweet pastry to eat. For a week and a half, I had a constant visitor who took care of my caffeine and sugar intake. My colleagues teased me for suddenly wearing perfume to work, and how I’d blush whenever “Sir Big Dick” arrived.

On the last evening, he came to my department and found me signing some charts. I’ve told him the girl was released during the morning, but of course, he knew that. He smiled at me and offered me a single red rose instead, asking if I’d like to accompany him for a real dinner this time.

Four years since then, he comes to visit even when there are no victims. Sometimes, I’m worried he does that out of fear that something will happen to me, and not just out of a romantic gesture to see his wife.

“Is it part of your job to stalk your wife?”

He slouches on his chair heavily, making it squeak beneath his weight. His eyes rise to gaze at my face. There is a weariness in them, the kind that even sleep can’t cure anymore. I fear the day when my husband will stray too far from the light, when the heart of darkness will clutch its ugly thorns in his tender flesh.

“It is my job to make sure the citizens of this county are safe.”

I roll my eyes at him, walking to stand behind his chair. My hands reach to clutch his broad shoulders as I begin to knead the tense muscles with mild force. He stiffens for a moment and then emits a soft groan, flexing and trying to relax beneath my touch.

“Do you bring red roses to all the citizens in our county?” I speak with a sultry voice, moving my hands to his collarbone. Walter closes his eyes and throws his head back, a deep groan vibrates from the pit of his throat.

“Only the hot ones,” he answers as his hand finds my leg and snakes up my bare skin, running all the way up beneath my skirt to find the curve of my ass. “You’re shivering.”

“It’s freezing in here.” I answer, leaning into the warmth of his palm as he strokes up and down my thigh to keep me warm.

“Why are you dressed like that, then?” he guides me toward him to sit in his lap. His hands run up and down my legs, exposing more of my skin while a soft smile spreads across his rugged face. “If I wouldn’t know better, I’d say you came here to seduce a police detective.”

I bite my lower lip, wrapping my hands around his neck while my ass sinks against his groin. I feel so safe in his touch, with his coarse hands that burn hot on my flesh.

“Why? Is that a crime?”

“Actually, yes.”

I pull away from him, standing against the edge of the desk with a teasing smirk across my face. His hand reaches out to my knees, not wanting to break contact. He has been deprived of it all day long, abandoned in the cold.

Now here I am, the only warmth he knows.

“Show me then.”

He licks his lips, still smiling as he is caught up with my little flirtatious act. “Show you what, pet?”

“What interrogation methods would you use? How would you squeeze a dirty little secret out a seductress like me?” I place the heel of my boot between his straddled thighs, preventing him from moving and asserting my dominance to provoke him.

His eyes narrow at me while he considers the idea. I see how the ethical balance begins to tip, the ball falling from one scale to the other. His better judgment becomes lost in a thick cloud of lust.

“You keep secrets from me?” he asks as he plays along.

“Maybe…” I stretch the word, giving him a wicked flirtatious smile.

Somewhere deep inside this good man, there is a big black dog, hungry to rip this willing victim to shreds.

He peers at my leg and then up into my eyes while his fingers reach to gently tickle beneath my knee. I hum in delight, throwing my head back, my leg losing its strength, my assertiveness leaning on the edge along with my ankle.

“I’d begin by putting you in a position where you don’t have any power whatsoever,” he speaks in a voice that’s gruff and low, his fingers now pressing hard and I’m forced to straighten my leg and lower it to the floor.

The smile on his face becomes cold and his eyes darken as he moves to stand in front of me. His leans against me, his torso pressed against my chest, his chin against my forehead as he lowers his head.

“Down on your knees.”

These words take my breath away, making my skin prickle with nervousness. I follow his orders with the obedience of a good wife. My knees lay pressed against the cold floor, I try not to tremble too much. I’m not sure if it’s just the temperature of the room, or the dark glare on Walter’s face.

His groin is at the level of my face, the outline of his cock showing through the fabric of his trousers as it begins to harden.

He reaches out his hands to cradle my face. Stroking my hair back, examining my face as if he is learning my features for the first time. The smile diminished from his face the moment I went down on my knees. Now he stares at me with the severity of his bad detective attitude.

“You’re very pretty,” he compliments me, but it sounds more of a fact than anything sweet. His fingers caress my cheeks and then at the corners of my lips, forcing me to part my lips. “Pretty little mouth too, does it talk?”

“I ain’t telling you nothing, Detective” I play along, if I’ve known we’re actually doing THAT, I would have prepared a script.

His hands run to stroke the hair away from my face, beginning in a tender affectionate touch, he collects every strand lovingly until my hair is bundled between his strong palms. I can feel the softness of his touch draining away.

“Undo my belt.” He commands.

“I don’t…”

“You don’t want me to ask again.”

My hands tremble with fear and excitement as my fingers fumble with the metal clasp of his belt. Walter’s eyes look at me carefully, completely devoted to this role. I wonder how much of his job is pretence and how much is actually him.

“What do you say if I’ll fuck your mouth until you cry?”

He asks while reaching one hand to unzip his trousers, freeing his beautiful large cock and stroking it in front of me for display. I can’t help but lick my lips, like a hungry kitten presented with creamy delight. The little drop of pre-cum that trickles down his shaft is too inviting.

“I’d say you still won’t hear a word from me,” I provoke.

Walter gives a short smile, tugging my hair back painfully until I’m forced to part my lips open into a breathless gasp of pain.

“Take me in your mouth.”

Usually, when I please him, I’d begin with a soft teasing, licking my way up and down his hardness until I finally take him in and begin working him sensually.

I am not granted any of that courtesy right now.

Walter forces himself into the wet heat of my mouth with the delicacy of a grunt. A deep, throaty groan echoes in the room as he is surrounded by my hot saliva and is pressed against the softness of my tongue.

I choke out a mewl as he completely fills my mouth, feeling the head of his cock nearing the back of my throat. My cheeks betray me, sucking by instinct to savour his girth. Every inch of my body knows Walter all too well, it succumbs to the man that owns it, physically and emotionally.

I look up to him with helpless glossy eyes. Victory showers his face, golden and bleak at the same time. He lets his callous long fingers clasp around the hollow of my cheeks to force me to keep my mouth open wide just to please him.

I gasp for air as he pulls back slowly. Just a cruel act to make me think we’re done, but we are far from that.

“Loosen your mouth pet, I am going deeper.”

He warns and shoves himself in again, this time deeper as promised, relishing on my muffled whimpers he puts one hand on the back of my head and begins to buck his hips. Fucking my mouth in the rhythm that fulfils his lust.

My heart pounds on my chest, my knees begin to hurt as I try to move with him. But I’m his good girl, breathing through my nose, letting my tongue lap around his lavished cock lovingly while he uses me as the wet hole he unloads into.

His eyes are glistening, ecstasy drawing near. I look up to stare at him, admiring how glorious he is. My large man, so confident and dominating. His beautiful dark curls frame his square face, bringing out his high cheekbones and bright blue eyes. And damn, that voice, those low melodic hums of pleasure making my entire body shake.

I choke onto his swollen cock. Tears stained dark grey thanks to my eyeliner and mascara, run down my cheeks.

“Don’t cry beautiful,” he speaks with cynical sweetness, his thumb wiping the tears away from one cheek as he carefully withdraws from my mouth, allowing me to breathe once again. “All you need to do is tell me what you’re hiding and this will end.”

I gasp for air, my chest slightly heaving while his fingers run under my eyes to clean the black mess that is smeared on my face. He remains silent, the wrinkles between his brows are deep and severe while he is still pulling his bad cop act. Yet the way his hands run over my face with care gives him away so easily.

“Is this the worst you can do? Some detective you are!”

I provoke him, laughing patronizingly with my voice still husky, the edge of my throat slightly sore from having to endure his size in its depth. Walter chuckles momentarily before grabbing my shoulders and pulling me up to sit on his desk.

“Spread ‘em” he nearly barks, but it’s not really an order since his hands press my knees apart widely, exposing the dampness on my underwear. He smoothes both hands up my thighs roughly, his thumbs reaching out until reaching to my core.

I let my head back, feeling how his thumb massages me, pressing against my covered clit and drawing circles against it.

“You like that, little slut?”

“Yes…” I throw my head back and moan, my hands holding hard at the edges of the desk while I spread myself to him as much as possible and grinding my hips to steal more friction.

“You want more?” he teases while his fingers slowly slip my underwear to one side, exposing me to the cold air in the room. I’m so drenched for him right now, held open, anticipating like sliced fruit. He reaches out for his cock and begins to stroke himself in front of me, a wicked grin adorning his face.

I’m very much aware he can finish himself just like this while leaving me here to beg out of thirst. Well, I can do that too. I lift my hand to touch myself, nearly losing balance but he shoves his thighs between my legs right away and holds my wrist away.

“Ah, ah” he forbids. “You’re not touching yourself, you’re still under investigation.”

“If you don’t finish me off…” I threaten him but my intimidation breaks into a pathetic cry as I feel the head of his cock rubbing against my clit.

“You’ll what?” he asks, running the tip between my throbbing lips and up to my clit. Back and forth he tortures me, increasing the pace and then slowing down. His groans convince me he may be enjoying this more than actually fucking me, seeing me so helpless and weak, willing to cry and beg for him to just put himself inside me. “I’m still waiting to hear what you’re hiding.”

I close my eyes, head thrown back in agony and pleasure at once, so close yet so far away as Walter pushes just an inch inside, and then pulls out and strokes me again.

I am still not willing to break completely, what’s the fun in that? I know my man, and I’m aware of his darkest desires and capabilities.

Let him unleash his worst.

“Not a word from me, Detective, you’ll just have to try harder.”

His nostrils flares.

“Fine, then I’ll just have to punish fuck you, drill you like a whore.” He pushes all the way in, making me whimper with bliss as I am finally whole again.

I’ve led him just to where I wanted. His body conquering mine, filling me with the pleasure that’s not just physical.

Somehow both his hands find their way to my neck, holding me constrained while he allows my body to stretch for him. He makes me stare directly into his eyes, holding my face close to him, his hot mouth hovers onto mine, our breath mingling.

I wrap myself completely around him, my boots pressing onto his ass to keep him buried deep inside. My hands hang onto his shoulders as if hanging to lift itself.

He begins to finally move, grunting against my ear, his beard tickling at my neck while he thrusts me fast and hard. I grind onto him, our bodies making the erotic sounds of wet bodies as they slam together.

This isn’t romantic lovemaking, he’s not tender and caring. His force is controlling, consumed by his demons once again. He fucks into me as if he wants to rip me apart, his hands depriving me of air, tight, perhaps too tight. Yet it’s still love, he would have not been able to have this with any other person and I would have not given it to him if I have not loved him as much.

The desk moves as he pounds me, he stretches his arms somewhat to lean me back, so he can look at me as I squirm beneath him, choked, fucked, and beautiful in his arms. We have both long forgotten our stupid game. We were too lost in the act of seeking out pleasure in one another’s bodies.

I look back at the man I love, feeling the tremor that dances between my legs. My entire body quivers. My muscles embrace him deep inside as I come hard around his cock, snapping my eyes open, gasping at his sight.

He has his fingers engulfed roughly around my throat, leaving blue bruises. If he’d want me to stop breathing at this moment, he could so easily just push slightly tighter. I’d die happy in his arms, but I know he’d kill himself before ever really hurt me. His hands finally snap from my throat and reach instead to hold my face, crashing his lips against mine into a deep hungry kiss before breaking away and letting out one final gasp as true bliss sweeps him away.

For more than a few moments, Walter is lost, buried deep inside me, surrounded by light.

That’s when I break, entangling my fingers in his big soft curls, I inch my lips toward his ear to whisper,

“I’m pregnant.”

Walter backs his face away to look at me, first with disbelief, his eyebrows rising, unable to even form a word. I’ve never seen so many emotions at once. Then a smile appears, so wide I think his cheeks may hurt. His beautiful teeth show and he lets out a chuckle of joy, sounding almost half-believing.

“Really?”

I melt as I see the twinkle in his eyes. The man who is always so grumpy and gruff looks now like the sweetest, most caring person in the world.

“Yes, we're going to have a baby.”

He kisses me lovingly, his arms wrapping around my back and holding me tightly.

“Detective Walter do you ha… SHIT!” A young cadet barges in, finding me with my legs spread around Walter while he is still panting heavily with his curls sticky at his forehead.

It’s as bad as it looks.

The frown immediately returns to Walter’s face. Looking at the cadet as if he is ready to murder him at the spot.

“GET OUT!” he yells, throwing whatever’s within his reach to force the cadet out faster.

I can’t help but chuckle, wrapping my arms around my mountain of a man, there is so much of him to hug, it always makes me feel so protected. He leans his cheek against my forehead and then lets out a deep sigh.

That’s when I know the darkness is returning, and now he has a brand new fear in him.

#Henry Cavill #Detective Walter Marshall #walter marshall #Walter Marshall Fic #Night Hunter #Nomis #HenryCavill

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trashytoastboi · 4 years

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Zoro prompt 1 with a female s/o <3

Heyya! 🍀🍀 of course~ hope you enjoy~

(Female pronouns)

400 Follower Event!

Scenario: Zoro x F! S/O #1 Can I borrow your jacket/clothing?

Word Count: 580 words.

⚔Roronoa Zoro ⚔

It was generally chaos on this little island, filled with constant bickering and fighting between Marines and pirates. The Straw-hats had no prior knowledge about this particular island nor the fact that it was crawling with Marines. Seeing how it was a central point between their base and the next island. The whole island was currently engaged in a fight, since this was also a popular place for pirates. The islanders never seemed to mind who was on the other end, as long as they got paid. The Straw-hats arrived, met with an empty and unusually quiet street only hearing the distant sounds of fighting, shouting and weapons clashing in the distance.

Zoro was instantly intrigued and itching for a fight, which soon came. They had yet to realize that some of the Marines were lying in wait for the Straw-hats to arrive and conduct an ambush. The Marines suddenly sprung out, in the middle of an already chaotic situation, some of the other pirates decided to join in the mix looking for a quick rise to fame by fighting the infamous Straw-hat crew. Somehow along the way they all got separated from one another, or at the very least divided into smaller groups. {Name} and Zoro fought alongside one another, leaving everyone around them unconscious.

Zoro quickly turned to see {Name}, she was kneeling down and covering herself, his mind went to the first assumption, the worst scenario. That she had gotten hurt, when he ran over in a bit of a panic, he instantly noticed that it was not the case…but her clothes had been completely shredded. {Name} chuckled nervously, stating that she was careless during the fight, especially considering that she let them close enough to shred her clothing. She pointed off to some random Marine, asking Zoro to pass her the jacket he was wearing. When {Name} looked up at Zoro she saw that he looked annoyed, {Name} assumed it was because he was a Marine, but in actuality Zoro was irked by the thought of seeing her wear another man’s clothing. Not yet understanding his line of thought, she could not help but tilt her head in confusion at his irritation, when Zoro began to strip himself of his coat, leaving {Name} surprised at the sudden action. After taking off his long green coat, and throwing it over {Name}, Zoro used his sash to provide something of a better fit for her. She couldn’t help but blush at Zoro’s thoughtfulness and being happier that she was wearing his clothing rather than the random Marines. {Name} looked at him and seemed to finally click to Zoro’s initial annoyance which caused a bit of a smile for her. “Thank you” she said, all the while he just dismissed the notion as if it were the natural thing to do. Truthfully he was trying to stay nonchalant over the whole thing, seeing how he actually loved seeing the sight of her wearing his clothing. Continuously stealing glances whenever he could, Zoro had an evident smirk on his lips. They stood around when the others finally found their way to the couple. Sanji was the first to notice {Name} wearing Zoro’s clothing, silently cursing under his breath that he had not come earlier to give {Name} his jacket. But silently praised Zoro for being a gentleman, though the delivery of his ‘praise’ was something akin to praising a good dog. Especially when he ruffled Zoro’s hair saying “Good Marimo”

#one piece scenarios #one piece scenario #one piece headcanons #one piece imagines #one piece #TrashyToastBoi #400 follower event #op zoro #pirate hunter zoro #roronoa zoro #zoro #one piece zoro #ronoroa zoro #zorojuro #female reader #female pronouns #fluff #sfw #romance

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maraudersftw · 3 years

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Here’s my little contribution to the Fem!Jily February fest being hosted by the marvelous @thejilyship this month! This one-shot revolves around the fairy tale theme. Enjoy!

First Light

“I can’t believe you brought her here, Prongs.”

“Shh, you’ll wake her.”

“Why don’t we take this outside? Let her rest for a bit.”

“Yes, thank you, Moony. She looks exhausted.”

There was half a beat of silence, and she sensed several sets of stares directed at her unmoving form even through her closed eyelids. She felt strangely exposed, knowing that the owners of the voices—two male, one female—were likely observing her ‘exhaustion’.

“I don’t care if she was dead on her feet! You should’ve been more careful. You see a pretty face and suddenly you’re thinking out of your arse. This is dangerous,” the first voice seethed, sounding thoroughly put out.

“Don’t be ridiculous; she’s just a girl.”

“She’s the princess!” a fourth voice squeaked—male again—and she forced herself to not twitch in alarm. Wherever she was, and she hadn’t a clue as to where, she was still known, still unable to escape her identity.

“Exactly! Wormtail’s right. If a princess is here, soon the entire royal army will follow.”

“So, what do you suggest then?” The female voice again—melodic, strong, annoyed. “I should’ve just left her to die in the middle of the forest? That we drop her back there right this instant?”

Silence fell again, deeper and longer. It seemed no one had an argument to counter the point.

She figured this was not the worst sort of group to have landed herself in. If they were hesitant to throw her to the wolves, they were at least a sight better than her sister. It didn’t matter that the wolves in the latter case had been metaphorical.

“Look, I think she’s waking,” said the fourth voice excitedly, and she realized she’d foolishly let a frown crease her forehead at the thought of Petunia. Even inside her head, her sister caused her trouble.

But there was nothing to it anymore; she pretended to blink her eyes open slowly, a dim glow from lit candles presenting to her a low wooden roof and old walls filled to the crevice with beautiful artwork—plants, ferns, flowers, patterns, and colors of every sort brightening up the space directly across from her.

Her fingers brushed over cool sheets as she sat up, the bed frame whining underneath her in protest. She noticed now that the drawings filled the entire room—save the roof and the floor—and was certain that she’d never seen such talent extracted from the tip of a paintbrush before.

Finally, unable to ignore the curious gazes directed at her any longer, she turned to the occupants in the small room.

There were indeed four of them as she’d guessed—three male and one female. They stood in pairs on either side of the bed. The one with the hardest stare had grey eyes and a mane of silky black hair. He was a handsome creature with a pale face and sharp features. But what really caught her eye was a familiar but rare band of glimmering black that twisted around his right forearm and disappeared under his clothing only to then peek out again over the skin of his neck.

Immediately, she rushed to examine the arms of the others—and sure enough, they each had a band of their own ingrained into their skin.

Her breath hitched in her throat. “You’re shapeshifters.”

If possible, the air in the room became thicker with tension at those words, uttered in the raspy, unused voice. A soft inhale from her left drew her attention to the female, and she blinked slowly, lips parting as she beheld the most entrancing creature she’d ever laid her eyes upon.

Her hair was a mass of dark, unruly strands that fell over her shoulders in thick waves. She knew Petunia would take to the tresses with a brush in hand as soon as she saw them. This meant that Lily inevitably found it wonderful. Large hazel eyes framed by thick lashes blinked at her, her own awe-struck expression mirrored back. The band on her arm was a blazing golden color.

“Your Highness,” said another voice, and she recognized it to belong to the one named ‘Moony’. He was thin—weakly, so—but his face was kind and smile gentle as he bowed his head slightly. Blue twirled around his arm elegantly. “We’re honored to have you here.”

At this, the grey-eyed one snorted in derision.

Blushing, she cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, but who are you? And—where am I?”

“I’m Remus Lupin,” he smiled at her, unbothered by the bitterness of one of his companions. “This is Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew, and Jamie Potter,” he introduced, pointing to each one in turn.

Her eyes stayed on the last person for a second too long before she turned back to Remus. “It’s good to meet you. I’m Lily Evans.”

A small smile. “We know.”

“And—are you—?”

“Yes.”

“But your kind—we were told you became extinct decades ago!”

“Evidently not,” grumbled Sirius. Then, without preamble, “what are you doing here?”

She bristled at the tone but held the bite in her voice. “Where is here exactly?”

“Just beyond the forests of Gryffindale,” answered Jamie, and Lily was glad to have an excuse to turn to her again. A quick smirk appeared on the woman’s face—the expression so well-suited it was almost alarming—while her elbow swiftly dug into Sirius’s side. “I found you there in the woods. Unconscious.”

A brief scuffle ensued between Potter and Black, but she let her mind wander, dragging up the memories that had been eluding her for the past few minutes. It all came back in vivid clarity: Petunia’s mandate as the Queen of Gryffindale that she be married to Prince Severus. Her vehement refusal. The banishment from the castle for disgracing the family name when she’d confessed that she couldn’t marry a man, any man.

And then the terror that had led her to the forest in the first place—Severus had taken the rejection a little too hard, firmly pressing his belief upon her that she could come to love him if she just tried, and until then his love would be enough for them both, and why wouldn’t she just listen? He’d make her see the truth even if it meant making her stay with him until she ‘came to her senses’.

That was precisely when she’d fled.

Unfortunately, she’d underestimated the dangers that had lurked within the forest—finally coming to understand why humans were forbidden to enter it. She remembered crossing paths with creatures of all sorts: an Acromantula twice her size that had put the pictures she’d seen of the monster to shame, Kappas lurking in small clearings of weed-riddled swamps, and then she’d finally been chased to exhaustion by a pair of Red Caps who’d wanted to beat her to death.

She didn’t remember having collapsed, but if Jamie was to be believed, she was glad to still have breath in her lungs.

“How did you find me?”

Jamie paused in her attempts of trying to pull Sirius into a headlock and turned to her again. Instantly, a practiced grin graced her lips, one hand raising to mess with her hair. “I was strolling around. You seemed like you needed help.”

“Strolling?” she raised her brows, unimpressed, “in the forbidden forest?”

“We do that sometimes,” Peter said, reminding her that there was a fourth person in the room.

Eyes trained on the brown imprinted on his arm, she shook her head. “I can’t believe you’re actually—are there more of you?”

“Not that we’re aware of,” Jamie said. A smirk again, “neither in kind nor in nature.”

“Why do you live here? Hidden beyond the woods?”

“Why shouldn’t we?” Sirius snapped, “our kind is considered ‘unnatural’ in your world. We step out there and we’ll be hunted immediately.”

She looked down, upset. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“Never mind that,” he waved her off, and she had the feeling that his anger was a fickle thing. “What I’m more interested in is what you’re doing here. And whether that spells danger for us.”

“I—I don’t know,” she sighed truthfully, “I was on the run from—someone, and the forest was the only place they wouldn’t follow me into. I didn’t even know creatures lived on the other side.”

“So…what?” Sirius gaped, “you just ran into that bloody forest knowing that you were probably going to end up dead anyway?”

“I didn’t have time to think at all if I’m being honest.”

The strangest thing happened then. At this careless narration of the most reckless thing she’d ever done in her entire life, Sirius Black grinned at her. Wide and bright and utterly mad. “Brilliant,” he said.

She wanted to roll her eyes, but fear was slowly creeping into her chest and burrowing comfortably again. “You don’t suppose they can cross the forest to come looking for me here, do you?”

A movement to her left. Jamie had moved closer to her side, hazel eyes boring into her with an inscrutable expression. “Not unless they want to die painfully. But the question is, do you want to go back?”

She exhaled, head pounding. Did she want to go back? Well, the answer to that was fairly simple. But she couldn’t see herself moving on with her life on this side of the forest without a care. Everything she’d ever known—everything she ever was—would be lost for all of eternity.

“I need to think.”

“Right, of course,” A nod from Remus. “You must be exhausted. We’ll leave you to rest for a bit.”

“You can freshen up if you want,” said Jamie, and she noticed how the woman’s fingers twitched as if to reach out. “I could lend you something clean to wear.”

Warmth bloomed in her chest, eyes falling to the shredded skirts of her dress, the dark stains. “I would be grateful, thank you.”

They filed out of the room then, Jamie almost knocking into Sirius in her haste to push past him.

She chuckled at the affronted ‘watch it, Prongs!’ and rose from the bed, meandering over to a bathroom across the narrow hall after asking for direction from Remus.

It was small, with little room to move around, but it was clean and smelled faintly of some plant—eucalyptus, perhaps. But it was the art—more of that beautiful, breathtaking art—that made her stare at the walls with her mouth agape. There were four animals that were recurrent throughout: A great black dog, a huge furry wolf, a large stag with antlers that touched the sky, and a nimble rat that she often found hidden in places least expected.

She had a fairly good idea of what—or who—they were meant to represent.

Feeling a little overwhelmed with the reality of her situation, she turned to the modest, round mirror above the sink.

Her thick red hair was matted over her head, limp-looking and crusted with dirt. There were smudges all over her face and a cut marred the skin near her right temple. There was no recollection as to how she’d gotten it. She grimaced at her reflection, hating the dryness of her lips, the sallowness of her skin.

Unbidden, the horrifying knowledge entered her mind that that was how she’d looked the first time Jamie had found her.

She groaned, embarrassed at the direction her thoughts were taking.

“Now, now, it’s not all that bad, dear.”

A scream was wrenched from her mouth—louder and more surprised than she would’ve expected. But Lily didn’t think she could be blamed. Because—because—had the mirror just tried to console her?!

Before she’d had a chance to gather her bearings or figure out whether she’d hallucinated the voice, there was a thundering sound from outside the bathroom. “Princess Lily?!” a panicked voice: Jamie's. “Are you okay?! I’m coming in!”

But she didn’t have to unlock the door. It was tugged open so effortlessly that she had to wonder whether she had locked it, to begin with. The thought was pushed from her head, however, when frazzled hazel eyes came into view. She noticed—at a rather inopportune moment—that Jamie stood a good few inches taller than her.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” And then light, gentle fingers were upon her person, turning her around, “are you hurt? I heard you scream.”

“I—”

“What an overreaction, young lady,” the mirror said again, and then proceeded to click its tongue, “screaming at another being is not good manners, you know.”

She sucked in a huge breath, wide green eyes swiveling to Jamie again. She reached out and gripped the woman’s arm in a deathly hold. “Did you hear that? Did you hear the mirror talking? Am I losing my mind?”

But she didn’t get an answer. Instead, Jamie’s entire face was swept over with relief, the stiffness of her limbs deflating into casualness under her very fingers. “Oh. The mirror. Bloody hell, you gave me a right scare.”

She couldn’t help her incredulity. “There is…a talking mirror in your bathroom and I gave you a right scare?”

“I would appreciate not being spoken about as if I’m not able to hear every word,” said the mirror disdainfully.

“Not now, Bertha,” Jamie scolded, as if there was ever a good time for such a complaint from an inanimate object—or what was supposed to be inanimate, at least. Lily suddenly found a simple green cotton dress being closed around her fingers. She looked up to find that Jamie’s stare had softened somewhat, an amused smile on her lips. “Here. Freshen up, and I’ll answer your questions honestly.”

She could hardly do anything but nod.

Right before Jamie stepped outside and closed the door behind her, she heard Sirius’s voice bark down the hall. “What the hell was that noise? Did someone die?!”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

When she returned back to the room, decidedly cleaner and refreshed, Jamie was waiting for her, knee jostling violently with nervous energy. She seemed to have been muttering something under her breath, pulling on her chaotic strands and shaking her head quickly as if to clear it.

She all but sprang up from the bed when her eyes landed on Lily. “Hello.”

“Hello.”

“That dress suits you much better than it ever did me.”

She looked down at the fabric, fingers trailing softly over the cloth. It was a little loose around the shoulders and slightly tighter near the hips, but was more comfortable than anything she’d ever owned. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”

Jamie shrugged, casually pulling her hair over her left shoulder in an attempt to seem unaffected. But Lily caught the pleased glow that had taken over her face. Hazel met green across the room. “Have you decided if you’re staying?”

“I haven’t,” she replied, “there are things I must know.”

“Then sit, and I will give you all the answers that I can.”

She moved towards the bed, walking around it so that she was closer to where Jamie stood. Behind the woman, a window revealed the first rays of the sun peeking over the forest canopy. She averted her eyes—fear from her recent adventures not erased yet—and found herself looking at a lily in full bloom.

“Who painted these walls?” she asked, “the art is all over the house, as far as I’ve seen.”

Jamie’s dark eyebrows raised, a smirk on her face. “That’s your first question?”

“It’s one I’m most curious about.”

“Do you like them?”

It was the opposite of an answer, but she hummed, stepping closer to the woman so that she’d see the sincerity in her eyes. “They’re the second most magnificent thing I’ve seen in my life.”

A sharp intake of breath. “What’s the first?”

“I was promised the truth,” she replied, feeling strangely clever as she sat down on the bed, heart fluttering madly, “I don’t remember offering any in return.”

Jamie grinned, quick and impressed. “Fair enough. What do you want to know?”

“I think I’ll start with the most obvious—why do you have a magic mirror in your house?”

“That mirror is not the only thing that’s magical here.”

She felt her mouth go dry. “But—but that’s impossible. Magic was wiped out centuries ago. It couldn’t possibly—”

“Couldn’t it?” Jamie interrupted, excitement buzzing around her very being. “You know what we are. You saw that mirror. Do you really still believe everything in the world is what you’ve been taught, princess?”

“Just call me Lily,” she said quickly, and Jamie smiled, “but then how does no one else know? Why is everyone on the other side of the forbidden forest ignorant to such breathtaking possibilities?”

“Not everyone,” Jamie answered slowly, lowering herself onto the bed so that she was facing Lily properly. Her eyes were depths of molten gold and held the promise of everything beautiful in the world. “There are some on the other side who—who know about us, whom we’ve placed our trust in. We get our news about Gryffindale, about the royal family, from them. It’s how we recognized you. Magic has existed in your world always, Lily, and will continue to do so even if it remains hidden behind closed doors.”

“Have you—did you ever live there? Before?”

“Yes. As did Sirius. He’s my brother, in all the ways that matter. After my parents passed, we decided it wouldn’t do to hide our identities anymore. These marks on our bodies—we didn’t want to be ashamed of them anymore.”

Almost instinctively, Lily’s fingers reached out to trace over the glowing print on her arm. Jamie tensed underneath the gentle touch but did not make to pull away. She looked up and found a whirlwind of emotions blazing in her eyes. “And so you escaped.”

“And so we escaped,” Jamie confirmed, voice barely more than a whisper.

“That was very brave of you.”

“I suppose you can understand the feeling—pretending to be someone you’re not—and how it can slowly kill you.”

Lily nodded, tearing her gaze away when the intensity of her words, her eyes, grew too much. Her forefinger continued to trail down the band until faded into the skin of Jamie’s palm. Something caught her notice, and Lily smiled, eyes flashing up again. “It’s you.”

“Pardon?” Jamie’s pulse skittered erratically against her touch.

“You’re the one who made these paintings,” she clarified, smile widening. A drag of her hand, until she could tap meaningfully on Jamie’s fingertips. “There are smudges of fading colors and dried paint all over your fingers and nails.”

“Oh that,” a mumbled response, and she was surprised to see the flush that had stolen over Jamie’s cheeks. For someone who exuded so much confidence and smugness with every toss of the hair, the sudden modesty was exhilarating to watch. “Well. Yes. I just make them when I’m bored.”

“If this is the result of your boredom, I’d like to see you actually try, Prongs.”

She looked pleased at that, shifting slightly closer so that her knee bumped against Lily’s. “Caught that, did you?”

“It suits you,” she nodded, trying to count the number of shades in hazel, “being a stag, I mean.”

“Well, you did say I was magnificent.”

It was her turn to flush; heat shooting up her face in a heartbeat. “I never actually said—”

“Lily,” Jamie interrupted, and the way her name sounded in that moment—gentle, caring, precious, revered—was enough to make the protests die down in her throat. Jamie shifted her hand so that she could slowly interlace their fingers together. She looked up, eyes beautiful and bright and entirely too hopeful. “Will you stay?”

Lily looked down into her lap when she felt tingling warmth run through her veins. Her breath got lost somewhere inside her when she noticed the pattern of delicate vines blooming on her skin from the places Jamie’s fingertips touched her hand. They were ephemeral—greens and blues of buds and stems dissolving into the paleness quickly—but glorious. And she knew, in that moment—she knew she could spend all her life watching Jamie cast more magic over her.

“I will stay.”

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