#I’ve been cracking these bad boys open and shoveling them into my mouth with my bare hands for years | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

Text

Looking for a Place to Happen 3

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), age gap, general stupidity, some violence and threats, toy play, forced masturbation, some content not warned.

This is dark!biker!Sam Wilson x reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Series Synopsis: There’s lots happening in Birch and you find it all too amusing.

Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown, When the Weight Comes Down, Little Bones, and Fully Completely

Note: Again, I’m always grateful to anyone who reads. Take care.

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Chapter 3: Wayward ho, away we go

💀💀💀

You bent and picked up your phone. The screen protector was cracked and peeling. You lifted it off and checked for any real damage. The stream had ended but it was still operational. You tucked it away as you looked between the bikers and grabbed your jacket.

“Well, thanks for the show,” you headed for the door but found yourself shadowed.

You swung the door out into the cold and that man, Sam, followed you onto the beaten down snow across the sidewalk. He stopped you before you could evade him and cross the street. You turned back and squinted at him.

“You know, I didn’t even get to pay my tab,” you pulled away from him roughly.

“So, do I get a name yet?” he asked.

“You guys are weird,” you grimaced, “no.”

“Come on, I just saved your ass,” he crossed his arms as his breath fogged before him, “I mean, you kinda owe me.”

“Maybe your friends need to learn to control their tempers,” you scoffed and hopped over the snow to cross the street. As you expected, he kept on and as you came to the other side, you turned on him. “Look, dude, you know that whole hard-to-get thing is a myth. I’m not interested.”

He chuckled under his breath and shoved his hands into his coat, “sure,” he smirked, “I can’t let you walk home alone. Not after you go and insult the whole club. Do you really not know the shit that is aimed in your direction right now?”

“Are you talking about yourself or…” you said wryly and spun back to your path, “it’s a small town, I’ll make it home.”

“Oh yeah, it is a small town,” he caught up to you and kept step with you, “you think I don’t already know where you live?”

You ignored him and zipped up your jacket as the cold began to seep in. As he said your name, you stopped short. A chill went through you that wasn’t the winter.

“You’re a creep,” you said.

He laughed again and slung his arm over your shoulder. You tried to wiggle him off but he kept you firmly in place against him. He began to walk, pushing you forward across cracked edges of ice left from diligent shovels.

“Honey, let me tell you something, what I did back there, you’re not just walking away scot-free, you get that? You want me gone? Well, then you can find out what happens without me watching your back,” he said as he squeezed you, “I can go back right now and tell those boys it’s free hunting. You won’t make it past the corner.”

You stiffened and shifted. You were never the brightest, you made dumb decisions, but you knew then this was worse than any before. Your fun time was really a big fucking mistake. How many warnings did you need before you realised how stupid you really were? It wasn’t just a meme, it was like the godfather sent a horse head straight to your door.

“Hmm, don’t think I’ve ever seen you so quiet,” he mused as his arm slipped and his hand went to the small of your back. He turned you down your street and you glanced around at the familiar houses, “listen, you’re probably scared shitless right now? Or should be if you were smart enough to notice the gun on my buddy’s hip? Or the one on mine?”

“Is this how you always get girls?” you croaked through your dry mouth as you closed in on your nan’s house.

“I’m sure other guys like the whole snarky manic pixie dream girl thing you got going on, but I’m not other guys,” he returned as he stopped you just at the end of your grandmother’s walk, “and you didn’t just fuck around with a couple of bikers tonight, you insulted the whole club. In fact, I’m a little pressed about it myself.”

He reached out and slid two fingers into your jacket pocket. He took your phone out and turned it in his hand.

“No more of this,” he put it in his back jean pocket, “not tonight. I’ll be back tomorrow and we’ll go over the rest of it but… if I see one TikTok or one meme, I’m going to be knocking on that window just above your bed.”

You blanched and peeked over your shoulder. The curtains moved as you caught your nan’s grey hair disappear behind it. You put on that stubborn pout you always got when things didn’t go your way and narrowed your eyes.

“You know this isn’t normal, right?” you whined.

He snickered and puffed out his chest, “this is Birch. This is how things go.” He reached out and ran his thumb over your chin, “you’re young, you’ll learn.” He winked and looked over at your nan’s house and waved with two fingers. “Tell the old lady I say hi,” he grinned, “but I can always tell her tomorrow.”

You scrunched your lips as felt like folding inward. He turned and strode off back down the street, his shadow fading into those cast by the streetlights. You sighed and headed up the walk and pounded your soles up the stairs. You let yourself in but faced another obstacle in your night.

Your nan sucked on a cigarette as she watched you unzip your coat.

“I thought you quit,” you said as you hung your coat on the rack.

“I thought I told you to stay away from the club,” she sniffed.

“Well… I tried,” you lied poorly.

“Oh, yeah, I’m sure you did,” she flicked the ash into the carpet without concern, “I’m an old lady now, I can’t help you.”

“He’ll go away. He’s just… you know how guys are,” you knelt to undo your boots.

“I do, do you?” she challenged, “I don’t remember many boyfriends gracing my stoop.”

“He’s not--”

“That man will make himself whatever he wants to be,” she gristled, “that’s how they work.”

“Look,” you stood and rubbed your forehead, “I know I fucked up. Can you just--”

“Oh, I won’t just,” she snapped, “let me tell you something, don’t be afraid to grab a man by the balls and twist. It saved me a lot of trouble.”

“Nan--”

“I’m not saying you should, just giving you options,” she puffed out smoke, “but you gotta be smart and make the shot count.”

“I don’t… get it,” you blinked.

“You will know,” she tilted her head, “women got a sixth sense. You’ll find out soon enough.”

💀

Your nan’s words stuck in your head. Your day off was no longer as exciting. You woke with a knot in your stomach and a dull stone behind your eye. You descended to join your grandmother for coffee, restless as you didn’t have your phone to keep you busy. You fidgeted and drank the bitter brew without a hit of sugar or milk.

There was a lingering shade of dread as the wise widow’s words swirled in your head with the strange man’s promise. He said he’d be back, he didn’t say what time, he didn’t say for what, but he said he would. As much as you rolled your eyes at the club, those men proved they had conviction and Sam had shown himself to be persistent.

You ate porridge with cinnamon and fake sugar. Your grandmother’s daily fare. You left her to her crosswords and her ramblings about the daily news. You told her to change the channel and lighten up before you went. She quipped back at you to “smarten up” and for once, you had no rebuttal; she was right, it was only that it was likely too late.

You sat in bed and watched Netflix. You had your laptop but you didn’t dare look at your TikTok as it just reminded you of the night before. It all began to sink in as you felt the thick arm around your neck and heard the rough gristle of the boss’ voice. You only realised then how close you’d been to biting it and it made your skin crawl.

Hours passed and you began to pace and fuss around with random pens and books. Maybe he forgot, maybe he wasn’t coming. Maybe it had all been threats to make you stop. Well, it worked and you would delete your TikTok once you got the nerve to open it.

Then you heard the heavy boots on the stairs and the pounding at your door extinguished the hope disguised as doubt. You cringed and stood in one place as you couldn’t bring yourself to move. You crossed your arms and chewed your lip.

You were very bad at thinking things through. You didn’t consider that you hardly knew this man, though the fact was plain in your mind. You didn’t consider that you’d rarely been alone with a man. You didn’t consider that you knew exactly what his vulgar looks and suave words meant and that your denial could not erase them and all of these things were obvious and unavoidable.

A tapping came at the window beside the door and he waved to you as the blur in your vision cleared. You bit down on the inside of your lip and made yourself cross to the door. He turned the handle as you did and pushed his way past your reticence. He stepped in as you stumbled back.

You were good at acting cool, at being the quirky friend, the goofball, but when it came down to it, you were just clueless. It was better to seem apathetic and not let on how much of a loner you really were. You always wanted to be one of the cool kids but never really were.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” he kicked the snow off his boots and it powdered over the mat, “this is a cute little place you have.”

“Alright, alright, I get it, I’m scared, okay? I’ll delete everything and won’t do it again,” you raised your hands defenselessly, “you made your point--”

“Have I?” he sniffed as he let his leather jacket fall down his arms, “because I’ve been thinking all day. How to punish you. You see, these things, you have to be punished. That’s the rules.”

“I…” you backed away from him slowly as he sat in the wicker chair behind the door and unlaced his boots.

“Not my rules, the club’s,” he said flatly, “now, don’t be lookin’ at me like that because if I’d left you with those other boys, you’d be in the rubble of that garage.”

You gulped and hugged yourself as your eyes rounded. His eyes clung to you and he grinned as he stood.

“Well, I know you’re telling the truth at least,” he said, “you’re scared.”

He neared and walked past you. He circled you and slapped your ass. You flinched and he chuckled. You were startled at how quickly he’d disassembled you. You tried to ready yourself mentally all day for his arrival and yet you could never be prepared for that instance.

He strode along the other side of the bed and pulled out the top drawer of your night stand. He shuffled through your things and slammed it. He turned back and went to your dresser and slid out the slender drawer of necklaces and random receipts. He felt around blindly and you heard the familiar roll against the wooden bottom.

“Ah, jackpot,” he pulled out the silicone vibe and spun it between his fingers as you watched him over your shoulder, “I knew a girl once, kept it hidden under her mattress, another had this vase on her desk… but mostly, no one puts much thought into hiding when no one’s looking.”

“What are--”

“Shhhh,” he hushed you as he put his finger against his lips, “it’s a very simple punishment and if I’m being honest, and let’s be clear I’m being very generous here, it’s not much punishment at all.” He took your hand and pushed the vibe against your palm, “you just gotta use that.”

You furrowed your brows as his warm hand closed yours around the silicone and he squeezed. You trembled and he let you go as he winked.

“Chop, chop,” he clapped his hands, “I can always come up with something else.”

You searched his face as he backed up and leaned on your dresser, arms crossed over his thick chest as his biceps bulged through his long sleeves. You peered down at the toy in your hands and traced the subtle curve with your thumb.

“Get comfortable, honey,” he coaxed, “when you finish, we’re done… for tonight.”

You were breathless as you turned away from him. Your head spun and you recounted all your mistakes as they rushed over you. You were so stupid. You couldn’t blame anyone but yourself but that didn’t make it any easier.

And you couldn’t do it. Even alone, you were always filled with the sense that everyone knew what you were doing with the vibe. That some lurker would hear you and expose your secret. A guilt atoned only in your pleasure.

“Tick, tock,” he chirped as you heard the wood groan against his weight, “you need help?”

“N-no,” you stuttered and dropped the toy on the bed.

You fumbled with your fly for what felt like forever. Your hands were shaking so bad and stopped as you asked yourself what you were doing. What you had to. You had no doubt in his promises. You were learning the hard way like you always did.

You shimmied your jeans down and slid them to your ankles. You got up on the bed and he tutted.

“Panties,” he snapped his fingers, “don’t be shy.”

You didn’t look at him as you lifted your ass and tugged down your panties. You kept your legs together as you unhooked them from your ankles and shoved them aside. You cleared your throat and reached for the toy as his figure loomed along the top of your vision. You clicked the button and stared at the buzzing vibrator.

“Almost there, honey,” he purred, “I’m starting to think you’re liking this already.”

You sucked in your breath and pushed your legs apart as you closed your eyes. You put your hand on the bed behind you and leaned back as you shoved the toy against your cunt and hissed as it rolled over your clit. You cupped it with your palm and moved it over your bud as the ripples flowed from your core.

You clamped your lips in your usual habit. You held in the moans that threatened and tried to ignore the soft breath of the man in the room. Your whole body was alight with shame and lust fed by the vibrations. You dropped your head forward and winced as you sensed him come closer.

“Oh, honey, look at you just diving right in,” he taunted, “that’s it… you don’t gotta be quiet with me.”

“St-st-stop,” you rasped out, “I can’t--”

“You are,” he slithered, “now keep going. I see you getting close already.”

You squeezed your eyes tight and gripped the toy between two fingers and swirled the tip around your clit. You wanted it to be over and despite yourself, his voice fed your need for release. You hummed between your teeth and arched your back as you rocked your hips against the vibe hungrily.

“Mm mm mm, honey, I don’t think you could handle a man,” he teased.

You gasped and panted as you felt the pressure pulse and you sped up. Your other arm shook and collapsed as you fell onto your back and writhed as you closed your legs around your hand and the toy. You came with a whimper as your body shook and you turned onto your side as the orgasm echoed through you.

“Very good,” he cooed and you felt a dip in the bed. You opened your eyes as he leaned his knee on the edge, “smile for the camera, honey.” You gaped at the lens of your phone and snickered as he lowered it, “now that… I think that might go viral.”

“Wha-- No,” you sat up and reached out as he stepped back and you nearly toppled over the side of the bed.

“Hmm, I might keep it to myself,” he tapped his fingertip against the back of the phone, “I don’t really like to share…” he faced you again and tucked the phone away, “I usually keep my girls to myself.” You blinked and bent your legs as you tried to cover your bottom half. He pushed his chest out and exhaled, “you are mine, right, honey?”

#sam wilson #dark sam wilson #dark!sam wilson #sam wilson x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #sequel #birch #biker boys of birch #biker au #biker!au #marvel #mcu #captain america #falcon #tfatws #avengers

175 notes · View notes

jeromesxreader16 · 3 years

Text

Such a Joker (55)

Part 54 Here!

~o0o~

I stop at the bottom of the staircase with a basket of clothes. "You two need to come down here or you're going to be late. We have a set time, you know!" "WE KNOW!" The twins yell. Four feet hitting the steps quickly. "Can I give this to him?" Juliet opens a card reading a sweet love letter to her father. "That's very sweet, honey. I'm sure he will love it." Jeremy shuffles his feet pushing his glasses up his nose. "Do you have something for him, Jer?" He nods, pulling out a book about his favorite animal. "He loves tigers!" Jeremy's eyes light up. "Really?!" "Yeah! Come on!"

I rush the kids to the car, buckling them into their seats before making way to Arkham Hospital. "Make way! We're back!" Juliet screams as she runs to the door, swiping the entry card. The nurses stare at my family strangely each week. "Juliet, honey. Slow down."

"Daddy!" Juliet yells at the gate, flailing her arms around. "Welcome back, Juliet." A guard by the name of Rick speaks up. "Thanks, Rick! Care to open the gate, good sir?" She bows to him playfully. As the doors slide, Jeremy walks through the patients calmly minding his business while Juliet attempts to make friends.

"Jules, honey, come on." I laugh, grabbing her hand and pulling her to the table. Jeremy sits in front of his dad crossing his hands in front of him. "Hello, dad." He smiles brightly at Jeremiah. "Daddy!" Juliet throws her arms over his neck hugging him.

Rick comes over nodding to us. "His room is ready if you'd like to escort him." I nod, going behind Jerimiah's wheelchair. "Thank you, Rick."

The kids walk behind me as I push Jer to his secluded room on the end of the hall. "Jeremy, love, get the door for me, please."

"Sure." As my boy pushed the door open Juliet jumps on his bed. "Can't we spend the night, mommy?" I scoff, "Jules, you know we can't." She crosses her arms. "Why not?" I bend down to her level. "Don't you have something for him?"

She takes the card out of her pocket and pushes it towards Jeremiah. "I made this for you, daddy." She places it on his leg. He just sits still, looking dead at the wall. "Are you going to read it?" Juliet looks at me. "He won't read it if you're in here, mommy. Can you step outside?" I give her a sad smile. "Honey, he's... daddy can't move." She looks up at me confused. "That's not true. I've seen him!" Jeremy walks over and leans to his father's ear, whispering. Then goes to his mouth, listening almost as if Jeremiah is speaking back.

"Kids! That is enough! Jeremiah is not going to move. He's not going to talk. All we can do is come visit and see him. We do not get a response. Now straighten up or-"

"Oh darling, you've gotten yourself all tightened up haven't you?"

His voice cracking. Dry and horse. I turn around seeing Jeremiah standing out of his chair. "What? See a ghost?" He laughs spinning around. "Daddy!" The kids cheer running to him and jumping In his arms. "Oh, my boy and girl. I've missed you!"

I stood frozen as the kids interacted with him. He looks over at me. Scars and all, he's still my love. "(Y/n), my wife. Come to me." As a river flows one way, so does my heart. I reach for him, walking closer. "You haven't aged a day. I'm sorry I couldn't tell you sooner." I rest my head on his chest letting out a breath. "Jeremiah. It's been so long." He hugs me close. "I know, darling. I know, but now we're together again. As a family." I back away from him slightly. "Why have you done this for so long? How long were you able to-" Jer shovels me in his arms, pressing myself against him, devouring my lips. "Everything is fine now. Unanswered questions are useless. Live with me, now, in the present."

The kids and I walk into Arkham with smiles. "Morning, Rick." He tips his hat to us, opening the gate. "A pure saint you are." I internally roll my eyes. "I just want my kids to have their time with their father."

I grab the handles on Jer's chair pushing him forward towards his room. I kiss the side of his head. "Almost there, honey."

The kids open the door letting me in and close it right after we make it through. Jerimiah sits still waiting. I stare at him confused. "Jer?" I question leaning down. "BOO!" He raises his hands scaring me. I jump back holding my heart. The kids laugh running to him.

Hours of laughing and playing with Jeremiah the sky has darkened. I put on my jacket and gather my kids. "Alright. Time to go home, loves. I still need to make dinner. Pops is coming over." Jer frowns and hugs his two wild redheads. Juliet shuffles her feet. "Do we have to, Mommy?" "Honey, of course, we do. This isn't a hotel."

Jer kisses my head. "Not long now. We will all be home." He rushes me out and closed the door leaving me to wonder about his plans.

Juliet and Jeremy sit at the table swinging their feet. I open the door with my hip, setting the roast on the table. "Now remember what I told you." "Don't talk about dad." My children say out loud. "That's right!" The doorbell rings and the two kids rush to it.

"You're under arrest!" Jeremy says holding his hands like a gun. "Woah!" Jim throws his hands up. "Don't shoot. Don't shoot!" Jim scoops him up wrestling him on the couch. "We got you now, Pops!" Juliet says beating him with pillows. I smile looking at them. I get a cold chill against my neck making the hairs stand up. I rub my neck and turn around to see nothing.

Must be a draft.

"Alright, kids, Dad, come on and eat."

All four of us around the table acting as a picture-perfect family. All that would soon change.

The children in bed asleep when my phone rings over and over and over and over. "What Dad? I'm getting-" "DID YOU KNOW (Y/N)?" I bite my tongue. "Know what? What's going on?" "(Y/ N), Jerimaih has escaped!" My blood runs cold at the mention. I sigh into the phone. "I don't know where he could go, Dad. He would come here if he knew where I was." "It's not you, he wants. It's me." "Do you need me?" He holds his breath. "I can't tell you to leave the kids."

I look over my shoulder at the doors. "I'm going to Bab's to get Barbara Lee." I hang up locking the kids behind both double doors.

At Barbra's the lights and music suddenly turns on.

♪Now, I don't hardly... ♪ ♪ But I think I could love her ♪ ♪ Crimson and clover ♪

"Turn around." She speaks to the figure at the bar. "Turn around. I won't ask again."

A chilling voice emerges behind her. "Surprise." She whips around to hit Jerimiah but is pushed into Ecco. "Easy. It's just a surprise party. For you, Barbara Kean, queen of Gotham, business titan. How exciting. But there was another you, I... I seem to recall. Wasn't there? Then again, there was, uh, another me, too. Oh, so hard holding on to what's real. It's... It's enough to drive you mad." He cackles over her. Barbara Lee comes running at Jerimiah, throwing a statue at Ecco.

Jeremiah looks down at her unamused. "Cute. Mine is better." Jer simply shoots Babs in the abdomen. "Mom!" Jerimiah picks Barbara Lee up, "She has your eyes. For now."

Echo whimpers, holding her stomach. "I... think she... nicked me, Daddy. I... oh, boy." Jer stares at his assistant. "Oh, dear me. My sweet Ecco, no longer my echo. There will never be one like you. (y/n) will miss you dearly." She smiles widely, "Really?" Jerimiah aims and shoots her in the chest. She smiles as blood pours down her chin. "But you were deceiving and in love with my wife. I suppose there are other employees available."

"Let me... down." Barbara Lee struggles in his arms. Jerimiah leans down to Bads on the ground, pistol-whipping her.

"Hush, little Barbaras, don't say a word. Now we're going to play a... little game. By now, James Gordon should have made it to your apartment and called his daughter. When he gets here, I want you to deliver a message."

I park my car as I see Dad sitting alone. I run-up to the club seeing Bads laying down. "What happened?" She glares at me. "He took her! Your psychotic husband took her!" She reaches for me in anger. "He took her! That lunatic took her! He said you have to come, and if you don't come, he's gonna kill her." "Where?" "The place where he was born again." I rub my face in frustration. "Ace Chemicals." I run down getting in my car and racing there. "Jer!" I call out loudly. "You can't do this shit, Jeremiah!"

"Jeremiah? Is there a Jeremiah here?" I hear him call. I follow the voice to see him all alone. "So what should I call you?" I tilt my head, tears flowing. "Jerimiah." "No, no. That's a boy name." "STOP THIS!" I scream. His facade falls slightly but never cracking.

"I call you the devil." Dad appears behind me with his gun drawn. "Wher is my daughter?" Jer looks at him confused. "The Devil? No, Call me... Jack. Mm, no, no, no, that's not right. J-Joseph. John. Jay. I-I don't know. I just... I feel something new crawling from the primordial ooze that was me. Something... beautiful."

"How long have you been pretending to be brain-dead?" "How long have you been pretending? That's a joke. I know you're not pretending." I look up seeing Barbra Lee hanging over the tanks. "Ah, ah, ah, that's far enough, (y/n)."

"But you still haven't told me. Why? Why keep pretending?" I look at Jer in confusion. Why has he waited all this time?" He smirks, "I was waiting for him to come home. We're bound together, he and I. It's the one thing I knew for certain, the one thing I knew was true. And then he just... abandoned us. Do you know how it feels to have the one, the only thing you love ripped away from you? It feels like this." Jer pulls the rope releasing Barabra Lee. "No!" I scream grabbing hold of the rope, the fibers sliding my hands.

Clangs of metal are thrown at Jer, who dodges them. "Who's there?! What do you want?! Show yourself! Show yourself!" I see a black mass whooshing over us. I gasp in realization. "You." Jeremiah laughs before he's knocked out cold.

"Now you give those kids kisses from their Pop." I laugh as I hang onto my father's arm as we walk to dark streets. "You know you could come over. They miss you. You make them laugh, dad." He shrugs and kisses my head. "I'll come over tomorrow night for dinner. Let it be a surprise." I nod and open my car door sighing. "Bye, dad." "Bye (Y/n). I love you. Tell Juliet and Jermey I love them too." "Of course." I finish, getting in my car and closing the door.

The drive home is never my favorite. Time alone is cruel to me. I still hear his laughter. Both of them are so different yet so loveable in their ways.

Juliet holds so much of Jerome in her. Especially her eyes. Full of joy and determination boxed up in two beautiful green orbs. Jeremy loves the books and brain teasers and puzzles like a certain Valeska who holds my heart.

I pull up to my small house upon a hill. The lights to the living room, kitchen, and kids' room are the only lights illuminating the house. The sitter's car was still parked in the driveway where it was hours ago untouched.

I unlock the door stepping into my house. "Jeremy! Juliet! Babes, I'm home!" I hear my daughter's beautiful laughter from down the hall. "Mommy! Come here and look!" She giggles, creating a smile on my face.

Jeremy giggles and yells from the same room, "Juliet made a mess, Mom!"

Maybe they're playing house, maybe even cops and robbers!

My heels click as they edge closer to the door. I grasp the handle smiling. "Did you two have a good time with Abby? I hope you were" I scream as the sight before me wounds my eyes.

Abby, the sweet high school girl who has watched my babies grow up now lays in my daughter's bed with knives and pins stuck in her body.

My baby girl, Juliet, stands next to her, knife in hand, blood on her cheeks, and a wide smile spread across her lips.

I cover my mouth horrified. "Juliet. Honey." she giggles and pulls out a pin of Abby's eye. "We played Doctor, mommy!" She runs to me laughing and holding the weapons.

Jeremy runs in from the bathroom with a blood-soaked rag. "I'll help clean, mommy!"

I fall to my knees letting a few silent tears fall. "Are you okay, mommy?" Jeremy asks with big eyes filled with worry. He walks over, hugging me by his sister's side. "I'm sorry we ruined the floor. I told Julie we needed a sheet first." Jeremy says, kissing my cheek.

Juliet wraps her blood-covered hands around my neck kissing my cheek like her brother. "Did Pop not come too? I miss him." I smile holding my girl as Jeremy goes to clean the floor again. "Pop has a busy day tomorrow morning. He said he'll make it up to you." she nods and laughs again.

Jeremy takes the knife from his sister and holds it up to me smiling. "Do you want to play, mommy?" I see the joy in those eyes as she asks me. I see hope in her eyes.

"Yeah, mommy! Play with us!" Juliet jumps on the bed over Abby's body.

I grab the knife and stare down at it.

"Mommy?"

"Yeah, come on, mommy. Let's play."

I look up and see Jerome sitting at Juliet's vanity playing with a big brush for her play makeup. "Aw come on doll. Look at her. You'll make her so happy."

I turn my head to the right and see Jerimiah flipping through a children's book. "Better than intoxicating their minds with this, darling. Think of how much they'll admire you. Our little ones will look up to you as their hero. A hero they're going to be told is evil in Gotham. Raise them right."

Jerome grabs my hand and helps me grasp the handle of the knife. "For me doll. For Jeremy and Juliet. For you, (y/n). I know you miss it, doll. Go on."

I walk over to the cold dead body and look at my little boy and girl between their fathers.

"Let me show you two something Daddy showed me." Juliet runs over and hops on her bed next to her brother, standing in between Abby's legs. "What mommy?"

"If you slice a clean cut from the corners of her lips... to her cheeks..." I slice the skin feeling my hands become lighter.

"She's smiling!" Juliet giggles and jumps. "Isn't she pretty, Jeremy?" Juliet asks, hugging her brother. He giggles and nods jumping on the bed.

I see my men both smile at me. "Let's go get cleaned up and then we can call pop and tell him goodnight." She nods and skips to her bathroom.

"You're such a bad mom, (y/n)." Jerome purrs smacking my butt as I pass him. Jerimiah rolls his eyes and simply kisses my head. "They'll turn out to be magnificent, darling. Even more than they are now." I shrug smiling at them both.

"What can I say. They're Valeska Twins."

#jerome #jerome x reader #jerome valeska #jerome valeska imagine #jerome valeska x reader #jeremiah valeska imagine #jeremiah valeska x reader #jerome valeska smut #Gotham City #Gotham #gotham cast #Cameron Monaghan

88 notes · View notes

rainydayhogwartsimagines · 4 years

Note

Hey there! Could I please get a fred Weasley x reader where the reader is a Slytherin, but befriends everyone all the same, maybe with the trope of her being best friends w the twins and everyone trying to set her and Fred up bc there's so much tension? But they're terribly oblivious? I absolutely love this trope lmaoo. Thank you and have a wonderful day!✨❤️

This is cute-- How in the world do you guys come up with this adorable stuff omfg.

Warnings: Abuse, swearing, panic attacks, slight NSFW conversations, set in a non voldy world.

You were a strange one. A Slytherin with a Hufflepuff personality. Honestly anyone that knew you questioned if for once the sorting hat was wrong for the first time. You had friends EVERYWHERE. Fred and George had heard of you, people saying even Filch could find you enjoyable to be around. Once they heard that, oh boy, they had to meet you. Fred and George finally did by the lake one day. Fred was talking to George, noticing a few cracks from limbs in the tree they were standing under here and there. Finally they had an answer as to what was making it do that when they heard “OH SHIT” followed by “INCOMING!” followed by you falling right into Fred’s arms. “My bad, I was trying to get a bird back in its nest.” You apologized, hopping down the the ground. Fred blinked a couple of times, looking at the tree and then you. “Uh... twig.” George said, pointing to his head to indicate you had a twig in your hair. “Hmm? Oh! thank you!” You realized. “Did... You just fall out of a tree?” Fred asked. “You’d be surprised on how much that happens. Oh are you those twins I’ve been hearing about?” You asked. “Probably. I’m Fred--” “That’s George, yep I know.” You nodded. “...Who are you?” George asked. “Oh-- I’m Y/n!” You said. “Ohhhhh. See this is beginning to make sense now.” George nodded. Fred was just... Staring at you. It wasn’t a perplexed face of “What the fuck just happened”. It was more: “This girl is.. Pretty?”

The twins started having more interactions with you. But there was the day you three became friends that neither of the boys will forget. Fred and George were sitting in the library. Reading? No. Napping? Yes. Well, until you slid into a seat. “Y/n?” Fred yawned. “Act. natural.” You said with this wild eyed look making George raise a brow. Then Draco ran in... With green hair. Fred was now awake and you were hiding your face in a book. “Have you seen Y/n!?” Draco growled. “No... But I see you decided to wear your Slytherin pride today.” George snorted. “You.” Draco growled. Then he noticed you laughing. He pulled down the book. “YOU!” He shouted. “Shit!” You gasped before Fred slid a chair in front of Draco, George bolting with you. You all hid in the one place Draco would never be caught dead in. The Gryffindor common room. You collapsed out of breath on the couch laughing with the boys. “What in the world made you do that?” George wheezed. “He decided to be a dick to my friend this morning. I got revenge. Tomorrow I’m thinking blue. He’s been giving Ravenclaw trouble lately.” You laughed making Fred snort. “Your idea is amazing, might I suggest we rig an exploding ink pen?” George said. “With silver ink, because red just seems to clash with that boy’s eyes.” You said making the boys laugh harder. “Oh I think we’re going to enjoy having you around, won’t we Freddie boy?” George asked. “Indeed Georgie. Indeed.” Fred chuckled.

So the mischievous three were introduced to the world. You had this policy though: Only prank the assholes. So that automatically meant a lot of kids from Slytherin. With each prank you got closer to the boys. Specifically Fred. Something about him just drew you in, like a moth to a flame. George wasn’t stupid either, he could see the looks you two would give each other. When you all entered your fourth year, you had started helping out with their little underground business. You spent the first two weeks of summer that year at home but actually ended up staying with the Weasleys’. You seemed... A little off though. Fred and George both noticed you begin to space out at times, giving off almost this sad look. Whenever they’d talk to you though, you looked at them like you normally would. Something was wrong. They could feel it. It wasn’t until they met your father at the station they realized what was going on. He seemed to snap at you a lot, making you go completely silent. To anyone that didn’t know you this was a normal response. To the boys though, you always had something to say. If you were quiet, this was because you were afraid. Not disciplined. You sat on the train in complete silence. Neither of the boys were sure if they should ask you about your dad. You focused on the rain drops on the window. “I’ve always liked the rain. What about you guys?” You finally asked. “Makes me tired as shit.” George said making you crack a smile. “Heard one of Harry’s uncles is teaching this year.” Fred said. “I think I remembered him mentioning that. The Remus guy?” You asked. “He’s standing in while Quirrell is away.” George nodded. “As long as it isn’t like last year’s substitute.” You groaned. “Fucking Gilderoy.” All of you said in unison making each other laugh. “I swear a simple breeze makes Quirrell catch something.” George sighed. “He does end up getting sick a lot. Remember when he got chicken pox?” You asked. “You would’ve thought the bastard was dying.” Fred nodded. ”He has the immune system of an infant, I swear.” you laughed.

You all sat around in the Great Hall, you catching a glimpse of who the new substitute professor was. He had a scar on his face and it reminded you of something. You just couldn’t figure out what. Eventually though, you came to like the way Remus taught. He had a sense of humor. Not that Quirrell didn’t it was just very awkward when he did finally crack a damn joke. Remus rose a brow when he saw your first and last name on the roll call. “Miss Y/n, is your mother perhaps Persephone L/n?” Remus asked. Fred rose a brow. “She was sir.” you said, making George look up. “Was?” Remus asked. “She passed on when I was eight sir. Why, did you know her?” you asked, earning a couple of students to glance at your response. “I did. Very kind woman. Who did she marry?” Remus asked. “Cassian Lestrange sir.” You responded, making everyone now halt. “...I see.” Remus nodded. “Something wrong?” You asked. “No offense.. I truly mean none. But I genuinely cannot see Cassian as a father.” Remus admitted. You nodded looking down. “He’s... An interesting man.” You muttered, your look distant and pained. Remus noticed, but changed the subject. Fred looked back at his desk. He had no idea about any of this, much less a distant relation to Draco. Judging by your reaction to the questions though, Fred decided it was best to leave it be. You enjoyed Remus’ class, him noticing a few similarities to your mother as you interacted with other students. You always had a smile on your face when you spoke to others. But the one thing he always noticed was the looks that you and Fred would share. George usually paired up with a girl but Fred ALWAYS paired up with you. You two worked well together. It almost reminded him of two other people he knew... Today though, wasn’t the best of days. It was time to practice Boggarts. You already knew what yours was, but you weren’t ready to exactly displayed to the class. You however walked forward and did it anyways, holding your breath as the Boggart began to shift. Finally it did.

Into your father. You opened your mouth to say a spell but nothing came out, your hands shaking as it inched forward. Fred looked at you and then the boggart, quickly pulling you back with one arm and shouting “riddikulus”. You couldn’t still your breathing and it only seemed to be getting worse. “Y/n? Look at me.” Fred said, ignoring the students watching you. Remus locked the closet and you hyperventilated. “Class dismissed.” Remus said, shuffling the other students out. “I-I can’t-- b-breathe.” you whimpered. George ran over and you gripped your head. “Y/n. I’m right here Love, follow my breathing.” Fred said softly. You followed his movements. “What’s your favorite book?” George asked making Remus raise a brow. “S-sense and Sensibility.” You answered, still regulating your breathing. “Personally I’m more of a short story man, what about you Freddie?” George asked. “Not big on reading. More of a napping fellow.” Fred answered. You let out a small laugh and straightened your posture. “What’s your favorite class?” Fred asked. “P-probably this one.. with the exception of t-today.” you answered. Remus reached into his drawer and handed you chocolate and a bottled water. “Thank you professor.” You muttered. You sat down and sighed. “Y/n... I hate to ask this, truly I do. But is there anything going on at home?” Remus asked. You didn’t say anything. “I... Don’t want to answer that question.” You finally said. Fred frowned and George exchanged a look. “Boys, do you mind leaving us for a few moments?” Remus asked. Fred kneeled to you, looking at your face. “I’ll be outside if you need me. Okay?” He asked. You nodded and he got up, leaving with George.

The door closed and Fred let out a long sigh. “I am going to kill her father, want to help?” Fred said. “Hand me a shovel.” George said simply. “Why didn’t she say anything?” Fred asked. “She doesn’t even want to talk to Lupin Fred. You saw her face, she most likely didn’t want to remember.” George said. Fred looked at the door and sighed. “We can’t let her go home George. Not this summer.” Fred said. “I’m with you.” George agreed. The two boys became a bit more protective over you. But they found it so strange that you still kept the happy go lucky personality despite going through all of this. Then Fred found you one night in the astronomy tower with a blanket. You were propped up against one of the stone arch’s and looking at the night sky. “Y/n?” Fred asked. You looked over at him. “Hey Fred.” You said with that smile. He sat across from you. “What brings you up here?” Fred asked. “Insomnia. And cookies.” You said. “Cookies?” Fred asked. You scooched closer to him, pushing a tin of cookies to him. He took one and you sighed looking at the stars. “Can I ask you something?” He said. “Sure.” You nodded. “What keeps that smile on your face all the time?” He asked. You let out a long breath, thinking over a detailed answer. “Lots of reasons. I have two kickass best friends that will fight for me no matter what, I have really cool teachers, I have friends who are like family.” you answered. “But... I keep that smile because some times someone just needs to see the good in the world. I won’t lie to you. My life is much darker than I think you accounted for. But if my smile provides someone else some light then damn it I’ll keep this up.” You said. Fred looked at you surprised. “Y/n...” He muttered. You looked at Fred and he said nothing, pulling you into his arms. You slowly hugged him back and he sighed. “I swear if anyone tries anything with you again, I will personally send them to their grave.” Fred said making you laugh. “I’m serious!” Fred said, not being able to keep a straight face seeing your smile. “Shut up and take a cookie.” You laughed.

You two were found passed out the next morning my Luna. You were in Fred’s arms and he was holding you close. You two never brought it up, despite the fact that both of you were blushing like crazy when you woke up. It was now CRYSTAL fucking clear how Fred felt about you to George after witnessing a snowball fight between you two that resulted in Fred tickling your sides and making you laugh during a Hogsmeade trip. You smiled in his arms, faces inches apart. If Fred and George’s jackass brother hadn’t gotten into a fight with Draco, George was 95% sure you two would’ve kissed.

You seemed distracted by something else though, and that was your professor. The scar on his face- why did it look familiar? And why was Remus going to Snape for a secret potion? You noticed that he was pretty secretive about his personal life and Harry never answered the question of where the mark came from. You took what you like to call “The Granger Approach.” Which was basically reading until you had a reliable answer. Fred sat with you the entire time, napping or talking to George while you read. Both boys were passed out by the time you found an answer. “Oh... Shit.” you realized, making Fred open an eye. “Find what you’re looking for?” George yawned. “...Yeah and I think Remus is going to be absent tomorrow.” You said looking at the full moon through the large glass windows. “Why’s that?” Fred asked. “He’s a werewolf.” You said in a whisper. Both boys looked at you with a “You can’t be serious” expression. “What makes you say that?” Fred asked. “Ron said something. Harry’s class saw his boggart. It was the moon.” You said. George blinked. “If our little brother is your proof that’s not exactly reliable.” George said. “How do you explain the potions he gets from Snape, or the scar on his face, or the fact that he was leaving campus this afternoon?” You asked. “He was?” Fred asked. “He was sneaking around but I noticed him.” You shrugged. “Alright. Say he doesn’t show up tomorrow. Who fills in for a substitute?” George asked. “Probably Snape.” you grumbled. “You’re a Slytherin and you don’t like Snape? My God you really are a strange one.” Fred teased making you smile. George rolled his eyes. “Do we ask him about this?” George asked. “No. We leave this alone unless Remus needs help.” you said. “How in the hell were you not sorted into Hufflepuff? Like honestly?” Fred asked. “I have no idea. Luna says its never wrong though.” You shrugged.

Sure enough, Remus didn’t show up and Snape took over class that day. Fred, George and you all exchanged knowing glances but overall didn’t say anything. The school year finally came to a close and you were honestly sad to see Remus go. The crazy thing was: That day when you explained your boggart to Remus, he told you that his door was open to you if you needed to leave home. You declined but Fred was hellbent on you staying with them for the summer. He hated the idea of you being potentially in harm’s way. This offer you accepted. You showed up, bags in hand with that same beautiful smile. Molly was of course excited to see you and you were happy to be there. The Burrow honestly felt like home. You and Fred had so many moments though that made the whole family go “Dude. Kiss already. PLEASE.” Specifically when you saw a spider and screamed, practically climbing up Fred while he killed the damn thing. “You managed to go into the forbidden forest alone and came back unscathed but a small spider scares you?” Fred asked, your legs having a death grip around his torso. “THEY ARE FUCKING CREEPY FRED!” You whined. “It’s smaller than you!” He laughed, holding you up. “SO IS A GRENADE!” you whined. You hopped down and eyed the dead spider. “Afraid it’ll crawl--” “FRED IT HAD BABIES!” You screamed, climbing right back up him, more directed to his face. “Oh for Christ’s sake--” He said, enchanting a broom to sweep them out. “You’re a Slytherin. All of you have creepy creatures for pets and you are terrified of..” “Fred faced you as you were linked to his side, inches away from him. You looked in his eyes, almost as if you were looking for something, swallowing hard. “What the hell happened here?” Ron asked, seeing the two of you. “I saw a spider.” “OH GOD WHERE--”

George was tired of this tension. Yes, it was cute to see his brother head over heels. But my GOD WERE YOU FUCKING DENSE. BOTH OF YOU. How could you two have so many OBVIOUS moments that would make people who barely knew you go “Oh so they like each other” But you two still be clueless to the other’s intentions. You two also talked endlessly to George and Ginny. Both of them would sit there listening wanting to say something, but kept their oaths of silence. This year things were bound to change though. You see: this year was a Triwizard tournament. Other schools were coming to this shindig. And a boy from Durmstrang seemed awfully fixated on you. You were friendly, inviting him to sit and Fred would just be internally screaming the whole time watching you. The Durmstrang boy would do things that literally made Fred’s eye fucking twitch: playing with your hair, complimenting your smile, constantly looking at you. You were oblivious to this being flirty though, unaware of the boy’s crush on you. Finally one day Fred had to talk to you about it. He could not stand watching this little fucker with you. “You should talk to her Fred. Tell her how you feel.” George said. “And if she doesn’t feel the same way?” Fred asked. George practically slammed his head down onto the table in frustration, releasing a long groan. “JUST. ASK. HER.” George whined, making Fred jump. “Good God man, what’s gotten into you!?” Fred asked. “NOTHING FRED. ABSOLUTELY NOTHING.” George groaned, getting up and making Ginny nearly die of silent laughter.

You were in the library, grabbing a few books for a herbology project when Fred popped up, scaring the shit out of you. “Christ! Say something when you’re behind me!” You breathed. “Sorry! Sorry.” Fred apologized. “What do you need?” You asked curiously. “What’s going on with you and that Durmstrang kid?” Fred asked. “What do you mean?” you asked, moving down the aisle, looking for a specific book. “Do you like him?” Fred asked. “He’s cool.” You shrugged. “Not like that Y/n.” Fred huffed. “Like what?” You asked. “Romantically. Do you like him romantically?” Fred asked. “Wha-- no!” You gagged. Fred felt a wave of relief wash over him. “Why did you want to know?” You asked. “It’s just... He acts like he likes you. That’s all.” Fred said. You stopped and turned around, a questioning squint on your face. “Would it have bothered you if I did?” You asked. “Yes.” Fred answered, no hesitation in his words. “Why?” you asked. Fuck. Fred did not think this through. “It just would’ve.” Fred said. “Again, why would this have bothered you?” You asked. “No particular reason!” He lied. “Answer the god damn question before I ask out Luka out of spite!” You snapped. “You do that and I ask Angela out!” He said back. You glared. “Oh that bothers you!?” Fred noticed the expression. “Yes it bothers me!” You said. “Why!?” Fred asked. “I asked you first, you dolt!” You said. Both of you were quickly becoming aggravated, glaring at each other. Fred couldn’t take it anymore and slammed his lips onto yours, resulting in you dropping the book in your hands and cupping his cheeks. You two eventually pulled away for this stupid thing called air and you let out a small laugh. “Well shit Fred, if you would’ve just started with that I wouldn’t have had to ask.” You laughed. He smiled, his hands around your waist. “You’re lucky we’re in public or else I would’ve done a lot more than that Princess.” Fred said in your ear. You looked at him with a smirk “If I knew making you jealous would make you act like this, my God I would’ve made friends with this kid ages ago.” You laughed. “Oh bite your tongue.” He chuckled. “Hmm, I’m thinking I leave that to you.” you teased. He shook his head, kissing you again.

George caught you two and he actually screamed “HALLEFUCKINGLUJAH” at the top of his lungs, making both of you jump. You three ended up in detention (you and Fred were in trouble for the book mess), George telling you two how the past few months were absolute hell. “I have been watching you two jackasses, trying to get you to DATE since LAST JANUARY. IT’S OCTOBER.” George complained. “It wasn’t that bad!” You laughed. “Not that bad-- NOT THAT BAD!? FRED TALKS MY GOD DAMN EAR OFF ABOUT YOU AT NIGHT-- I DON’T SLEEP” George whined. “Has he now?” You asked, smirking at Fred who was smiling. “You’re always on the bastard’s mind! And I have to listen to Ginny complain to me with the same issue-- ‘Y/n was talking about Fred again to Hermione. Something about if given the chance she’d definitely shag him’.” George quoted making you choke on air and cough as Fred looked at you with an amused smirk. “Would you now?” Fred asked. You rolled your eyes “What was it you said to me a few hours ago-- ‘You’re lucky we’re in public or else--’” “I remember what I said Darling, I just wanted to know where your mind was.” Fred teased. “Oh you know exactly what I’m thinking you little shit.” You griped making him snort. “Oh God Mcgonagall better come back soon, I’m locked in a room with two randy jackasses.” George prayed aloud. “Relax we’re not going to shag.” Fred said. “Thank god.” George sighed. “That’s not until three.” Fred yawned making you snort and George slammed his head on his desk. “DRINK HOLY WATER YOU UNGODLY SINNERS”

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x you #fred weasley

190 notes · View notes

teamhappyme · 3 years

Text

my world is grey without you

pairing: nick amaro x reader

warnings: tissues. this is not happy.

word count: 1.7k

a/n: this is pure sadness. i am so sorry, it is all hurt and the smallest pin point of comfort. my first nick amaro fic, and it’s gonna be ~heartbreaking~ but this idea has been in my head for weeks. hope you enjoy some of the pain im serving.

****

You think Mother Nature must be in tune to your emotions, when you wake up that early May morning. The clouds were grey, rain pouring from the sky, collecting in puddles on the cracked sidewalks of New York City. If you had to describe to someone how you were feeling today, you would just tell them to look outside. You felt as gloomy as it was in the city today.

Normally, your walk to the coffee shop was bright and full of sunshine, especially during spring. The flowers were starting to bloom, the sun was staying out longer, and the weather finally started to reach past sixty degrees. Instead it was filled with droopy tulips and black umbrellas covering everyone’s faces.

You got your usual order, and one black coffee to go, hailing a cab across town to your destination. You planned on walking yesterday; the half hour walk would help clear your head and calm your nerves. But today, it would only leave you wet and cold.

Once you pulled up to the brick apartment building, you paid the driver and quickly ran up the stoop and into the entrance. You buzzed apartment 3G, and after a few seconds, you were let in. You rode the elevator up to the third floor, your foot tapping against the linoleum floor the entire time.

You stepped out and took a right down the hall, stopping at the fourth door on the left. After three knocks, the door swung open, and there stood the man of the hour.

“Hey, Nick.” you gave him a small smile, lifting the black coffee you got for him on your way here. “I know it’s early, but I figured this may help you with any last minute packing.”

“I,” he started, running a hand through his hair, “what are you doing here?”

“What, you think you can just leave without a proper send off from your partner? Besides, I’ve owed you this coffee for three years. I had to pay up before you left.”

That got a smile out of him, as he reached for the coffee, and opened the door up a little wider.

“Come on in,” the foyer of Nick Amaro’s apartment usually greeted you with an onslaught of pictures of Zara and Gil, accompanied by many drawings and art projects from the young girl. Now on his last morning here, the walls were stark white, void of anyone ever living here.

“I can’t believe you got this place packed up so fast. It took us a whole day just to get that giant brown couch into the apartment.” You said, as your eyes looked over what was once the living room.

“Well, that’s what movers are for.” He followed in behind you, taking in the apartment he called home for the last two years. He moved in to the first place he could find, not wanting to spend another minute thinking about living without his baby girl. “I would offer you a seat, but my furniture is in a u-haul, probably crossing Kansas right about now.”

You smiled, as you crossed your ankles and sat criss cross applesauce on the hardwood floor. “That’s alright. I prefer the floor anyways, keeps me grounded.”

You were ready for the pointed stare you got from him, only making you laugh harder at your awful pun.

“Three years we’ve been partners, and you still have awful jokes I’ve never heard.”

“Hey, I gotta keep you on your toes, Amaro.” he sat down next to you, leaning back on his hands and crossing one foot over the other. You knew there wasn’t much time before he had to head to the airport; you purposely gave yourself a small window to minimize the hurt. “How long do I have you for until you head for the sunshine?”

He looked down at his watch, letting out a small sigh as he checked the time. “My cab will be here in about twenty minutes.”

“Alright. Then we have twenty minutes to make the best cop movie script out of our careers together.”

And for the next twenty minutes, you remembered almost every moment you spent with Detective Nick Amaro. From the first day you met, which had a rocky start, to the day he turned in his papers to be with his kids. There were stories of stakeouts that always included pizza and blaring rock music to keep you awake, monday morning bets on who would be in the precinct last, and endless amounts of coffee runs to keep the other person going.

There was a lot of trust built between the two of you over the last three years. Nick had been through hell and back in the time you were partnered together, and there was no choice but to trust each other. At work, he needed somebody he could trust without any doubt, and you made it so easy for him. The kindness and empathy you treated him with from the beginning, even when he didn’t deserve it, made a difference in his life. There was no one else he’d trust with his life more than you.

After some time, you two were in sync with one another. You always knew what the other person needed, whether that was a coffee, space, or comfort, the two of you knew what to do. It made work that much easier, it made the bad days that much better, when you didn’t have to tell them how you were feeling; they just knew.

You had just finished the story about your first undercover op together, when his phone lit up.

“My ride is five minutes out.” he said, the trip down memory lane coming to an end. Your smile morphed from a shiny grin, into a small close mouthed line. It was time to say goodbye.

“I’ll walk you out,” you got out, barely above a whisper, as Nick stood up. He held his hand out to you, helping you onto your feet.

You watched as he grabbed his backpack from his room, patting his pockets to double check he had his phone, wallet, and boarding pass. He took one last look around the place before walking out and closing the door behind him for the last time.

The elevator ride down was quiet, you spent those thirty seconds regulating your breathing and swallowing the growing lump in the back of your throat. This wasn’t about you.

Once the doors opened to the lobby, you felt soft fingers inching their way into your palm, lighty holding you together. You looked over at Nick, slowly, but he was looking straight ahead. You saw the twitch in his jaw, and the bob of his adam’s apple, and you knew he was holding back his own tears.

Moving your hand the slightest bit, your fingers fell into place with his. You gave his hand a gentle squeeze, before following him out.

The rain had subsided considerably since you arrived, the downpour now more of a spring mist. You stood at the edge of the sidewalk with him for a few minutes, until he got the notification that the car was only five blocks away.

“Well, are you ready to turn into a Cali boy?” you asked, finally turning to see his face.

“I’m ready for no more New York winters. I am gonna miss just about everything else, though.”

“But you’ll have Zara, and Gil, and that’s all that really matters.” you said with a smile, while gently letting go of his hand. “Besides, I’ll make sure to send you endless videos of me shoveling myself out of my apartment building, just to let you know you made the right decision.”

“Please, please keep that promise and send me those videos. There is nothing more amusing than you swearing at snow.” you rolled your eyes, and nudged his shoulder in annoyance.

Instead of bouncing back off his body, you felt his arm snake around your waist. You leaned into his touch, letting your head rest on his shoulder. You felt the exhale of his breath before you heard it, along with the rapid beating of his heart.

“I’m gonna miss you, you know,” he started, as you focused on the way his fingers were moving up and down along your hip. “I wouldn’t have made it through everything without you.”

“I was your partner,” you said, the past tense already tasting like bile on your tongue. “I would’ve done anything for you. And I know you would’ve done anything for me.” You turned your head the slightest bit, just enough to see his face. “I’m gonna miss you too. More than I already do.”

He looked down at you, his brown eyes full of emotion and tears. His eyes flickered to your lips for the smallest moment, and you nodded, giving in to the moment, and the man you cared so much for.

His lips met yours in a chaste kiss, just long enough for you to remember what it felt like to hold Nick Amaro this close.

He pulled away, gently resting his forehead against your own. You let the moment last as long as it could, before the inevitable beep left Nick’s phone. They were here.

You pulled away from him, your waist growing cold without his arm wrapped around you. There was a beep from a blue car a few cars up, and you let out a sigh.

“Your ride’s here, Cali boy.” you said with a smile, wiping away the stray tear that traced your cheek. “Don’t be a stranger, okay?”

“I won’t. Call me, whenever you need me, alright?” you nodded, trying to memorize the smile on his face. He found your hand one last time, giving it a comforting squeeze.

“I will. Now, go, you’re gonna miss your flight if you hit any lunch traffic.” He looked up the street to the cab, before looking back at you.

He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek, and then your lips one last time.

“I’ll see you later, y/n/n.” he said, and you watched him walk down the streets of New York City for the last time.

But you knew you would cross paths with Nick Amaro again one day.

****

tags: @hurricanejjareau @qvid-pro-qvo @crazyshannonigans

#nick amaro x reader #nick amaro fanfiction #nick amaro fic #nick amaro #law and order: svu fanfiction #law and order svu fanfiction #law and order svu #jules writes shit ??

48 notes · View notes

imperialstark · 4 years

Text

breathe me in

a/n: this is the fic i promised for my 900 follower celebration! i’ve had this blog a for a while and it’s crazy to think that there’s people let alone 900 of them that care about my stupid opinions on stony. thank you guys so much!

summary: Tony tries to have a heart to heart with Steve after their fight on the Helicarrier and gets more than he bargained for. Set during The Avengers.

rating: Explicit, so explicit

warning(s): tony has self confidence issues but what else is new, heavy smut

edit: this fic has a sequel now!

choke on me—chapter one

—————

Almost dying, Tony decides, really puts one's life in perspective. They weren't kidding when they said your life flashed before your eyes, right up until your last breath. His life flashed alright, in a riot of color and noise, camera flashes, cheers, and jeers alike. And when he opens his eyes, he's greeted by Rogers kneeling over him looking distraught.

His almost death aside (he'll deal with that trauma later) Tony does what he does best to break the tension; he cracks a joke. And because today is just chock full of surprises, Rogers laughs. He laughs, and his eyes are as brilliant as the sky above them. Tony swears his heart stops again. It's happened enough for him to recognize the feeling.

Tony knows he can be an asshole. He can be rude and obnoxious and interruptive, all very much asshole behaviors. The majority of the time, it's just an act. People have come to expect a show from him, whether they know it or not, and Tony's never been one to half-ass anything. The public wants a rich, smarmy bastard? He can do rich, smarmy bastard. He's the fucking poster boy for rich, smarmy bastard.

But Rogers, laughing with him, smiling at him after dealing with Tony Stark: Peak Asshole Edition™? It makes Tony pause. The joke isn't that funny (you try coming up with a zinger after sacrificing yourself for the sake of the world), so why is Rogers smiling? It's not that Tony hates himself so much to the point where he immediately distrusts any signs of affection. But Tony's Tony. And Steve is Steve.

"That's why," he tells himself. "This is Steve Rogers. Being kind is in his blood." There's only death in Tony's.

"You're a real piece of work, aren't you, Stark?" Steve says, chuckling to himself. There's no heat to his words.

"You wouldn't like me nearly half as much if I wasn't," Tony says and immediately wants to shovel the words back into his mouth. He and Steve aren't friends. Steve isn't like Rhodey or Happy or hell, even Romanov, who Tony's still not sure what the status of their relationship is.

Instead of rolling his eyes or sighing, that slight smile stays on his face.

"Okay," Tony thinks. "That's new."

***

Tony's got a new perspective on things. Maybe Rogers isn't that bad. That doesn't mean that they're friends, not even close. But, Tony thinks, as he shuffles from foot to foot outside the soldier's makeshift quarters on the Helicarrier, that doesn't mean he doesn't want to at least try.

Tony knows how to be the bigger person when he wants to be.

He knocks on the door, and before he can change his mind and retreat to Stark Tower like a recluse, Steve is opening the door.

Tony must have caught him while he was stripping out of his uniform; Steve's still wearing the bottoms of his suit, utility belt and combat boots in all. Aside from that, Steve is shirtless. Which is fine. Tony isn't going to question why Steve is shirtless, but it is hard to make direct eye contact with him when his abs are right there in front of Tony's face. And it's not like Steve didn't have time to put on a shirt before he answered the door.

"Stark?" Steve says. "I'm surprised to see you up and running."

Right. Near-death experience. "I may have bribed the doctors in the med-bay into letting me leave early," he says.

Steve frowns. Tony's quite familiar with Steve's frowns now. There's the "I can't believe you just said that" frown and the "Captain America is disappointed in you" frown, but this one, Tony can't seem to pinpoint.

"Your heart stopped."

"After the second time, you get used to it," he says with a shrug. "Look, I didn't come to talk about my medical issues."

A muscle works in Steve's jaw. Tony shouldn't find it as attractive as he does. "Why did you come, then?"

"I wanted to apologize."

Steve arches a brow. "For?"

"For being an ass." It comes out sounding like a question. "I...said some hurtful things, and I want to own up to them instead of sweeping them under the rug."

"It wasn't just you," Steve admits. "We both were at each other's throats."

"Still," Tony says. "You're not a lab rat. Not even close."

Steve's lips quirk up. "I'm a step up from rat, now?"

"Yes," Tony says. This is good. Steve is smiling instead of punching him in the face. Tony can handle this.

"You know...what you did today, that took courage."

Oh, God. Tony doesn't want this to be about him. (Despite popular belief, his ego isn't that fucking big.)

"Don't even mention it. Please," Tony says. "If you're not gonna let me apologize to you properly, at least let me do something for you, or buy you something. I'm great at buying things."

Steve frowns again, but his interest is piqued. "Like what?"

"I don't know, like a vintage car or something. A blowjob. Whatever floats your boat." Why did he say blowjob, why did he say blowjob, why the fuck did he say blowjob?

Steve's staring daggers into him. "Did you just offer to blow me?"

Seriously, why the fuck did he say blowjob?

"It was a joke," he says lamely.

"Oh," Steve says, his face dropping and—is Tony crazy, or does Steve actually look disappointed?

"I'm sorry. You don't have to if you don't want to," Steve says. "I thought...you know what, never mind." Steve's retreating back into the safety of his room, a blush flooding his cheeks.

Tony has two options, and he has to pick fast. He can either let this whole thing go and pretend it never happened, as that seems like it's what Steve wants to do. Or...he can roll with it.

"Wait," Tony says, grabbing Steve by the arm. His skin is hot to the touch. "It...it wouldn't be a chore or anything."

Steve swallows, looking Tony up and down. Tony feels oddly naked in front of him like Steve is seeing past every mask he's ever donned. "You mean that?" Steve says.

"I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought about it," Tony confesses. His stomach twists into knots. During their fight he had thought about Steve pinning him against a wall, wrapping a hand around his throat, kissing his mouth like a savage—

"Yeah?" Steve says, and his tongue darts out, wetting his lips.

"Yeah," Tony breathes. The hallway feels like it's closing in on him.

Their eyes meet, and it's a matter of seconds before Steve's yanking Tony by his arm into the barrack.

Tony barely has any time to close the door and observe the room before Steve's on him.

He's kissing Captain America.

Tony Stark is kissing Captain America.

Steve kisses like he fights; All confidence and barely restrained power. Tony's back is pressed against the wall, but he can't find it in himself to complain as Steve's tongue finds its way into his mouth.

Tony doesn't know if they closed the door or not, and that sends an electric thrill running down his spine. Anybody could walk past and see him ready to fall to his knees and give Captain fucking America the blowjob of his life.

Steve slots his thigh in between Tony's legs, silently prompting him to spread them, and it's no skin off Tony's back to comply.

Steve's tongue is quick and clever, eliciting moans from Tony's mouth. Steve's a practiced kisser, and Tony's not sure if that bothers him or not. He had assumed that Steve was a precious virgin with 1940s sensibilities, but obviously, he had been with somebody. Tony wonders if it was recent and if Steve still thinks about them in his spare time.

The thought of Steve with another lover fills him with jealousy, and Tony finds himself kissing Steve harder. He winds his hands into Steve's hair and grinds his rapidly growing cock down on Steve's thick thigh.

Steve pulls back, chuckling as Tony chases after his lips.

"You're a needy one, huh?" he says, working at the fly of his tac suit.

"Like you're any better," Tony says, marveling at how out of breath he sounds. "You can barely get your pants down, you're so eager."

Steve raises his hands. "Alright, genius, you do it. I'll just stand here and look pretty."

Tony bites back a smile and instead makes quick work of Steve's fly.

"Oh, wow," he says softly when he pulls out Steve's cock, already hard and leaking precome. He's not a poet, but he's never seen a dick that looked so...nice. It's so hot in Tony's hands, like a brand. Steve keeps himself trimmed and neat, which makes sense, given the rest of his appearance.

Tony can hear his heart beating a rapid rhythm in his chest as the gravity of what he's about to do hits him. It's not like he's never given a blowjob before, far from it. But this is Steve. Steve, who lied on registration forms just so he could serve his country. Steve, who freed prisoners of war with little to no help. Steve, who plunged a nuke-laden plane into the ocean without a second thought.

"Hey," Steve said. "I meant it when I said you don't have to do this if you don't want to. Are you still okay with this?"

Something in Tony's heart softens at that, and he silently pushes it down. This is a one time only situation. He can't afford to get feelings involved, so instead, he nods. "Yeah," he says, "You think I'd say no to this?" And with that, Tony fully sinks to his knees.

He takes Steve into his mouth before he can ask any more questions. A sharp intake of breath escapes Steve's mouth. Tony's hands come up to rest on Steve's well-muscled thighs. It's hard to breathe at first—Steve is so big, Tony would bet his fortune that he had been like this before the serum too.

Tony takes his time, and Steve lets him adjust to the foreign weight in his mouth. He breathes through his nose because he's not a goddamn amateur, and settles into a steady rhythm, bobbing his head along the length of Steve's dick.

Tony savors the little gasps and moans that Steve emits whenever he swallows around him or flicks his tongue a certain way. He commits them to his memory like a raven collects shining trinkets.

Steve's hand curls into Tony's hair, not necessarily pushing him down, though. Just a steady, almost comforting weight on Tony's head that makes something in the back of his mind purr in satisfaction.

"You're doing so good," Steve whispers it like it's a secret.

Tony looks up at him, and Steve looks just as wrecked as Tony feels. The blue of his eyes is naught but a thin ring overtaken by a pool of black. His skin is sweaty and flushed, his lips red and swollen from where he had been biting them to stifle his moons. Tony wants to devour him.

Steve's fingers tighten in his hair, and Tony's moaning himself now. Steve's eyes flutter shut, his mouth dropping into a slight 'o'.

"How can someone be so fucking beautiful?" Tony thinks.

His own cock tents his jeans, leaking precome, but Tony will deal with it later. He's not expecting Steve to return the favor. This is an apology, after all. An unconventional one, sure, but an apology all the same.

"I'm close," Steve says. "Do you want me to—"

Instead of answering, Tony hollows out his cheeks and sucks. His teeth ghost over a vein along the length of Steve's cock, and Steve's coming with a muffled shout into Tony's mouth. Tony's careful to swallow it all, not wanting any of Steve's come to go to waste. He tells himself that it's just so that there's less of a mess.

"Jesus, Tony," Steve says, his voice all scratchy like he had been the one on his knees for the past fifteen minutes.

Tony pulls off of Steve and looks up at him with big eyes, his lashes shining with unshed tears. Something primal crosses Steve's face, and he snaps. The next thing Tony knows, he's being hauled to his feet, and Steve's tongue is down his throat like he wants to become a part of Tony. A pang of arousal hits Tony in his stomach like a sucker-punch at the fact that Steve would still kiss him after what he had just done.

Steve unbuttons Tony's jeans with deft fingers and shoves one of his hands down Tony's jeans. He finds his cock with ease. Tony wraps his arms around Steve's neck and digs his fingers into Steve's skin as he jerks him hard and fast like he's trying to punish him.

It should hurt. But a savage part of Tony's brain revels in Steve's loss of control. Steve isn't Captain America right now, America's golden boy. He's Steve fucking Rogers, and he's taking what he wants, consequences be damned. Tony doesn't even bother trying to hide his cry when he comes hot and wet into Steve's hand, pleasure lighting up every single one of his nerves as if he has been struck by lightning. Tony's knees tremble, and if it weren't for Steve pinning him against the wall, he surely would have fallen to the ground.

Steve breaks their kiss and tucks his head into the nape of Tony's neck.

"God," he says, his voice like sandpaper. "God," he repeats as if that says everything that needs to be said. In a way, it does.

"Hell of an apology, huh?" Tony says. He's always known how to ruin a moment.

Steve gives him a breathless chuckle in return. "If that was your apology, I'd kill to see your 'thank you,'" he says.

"Give me something to be thankful for."

"Yeah?" Steve says, lifting his head up to look at him. His eyes are bright, but there's a glint to his gaze that makes Tony feel like he's being hunted.

"Yeah," Tony says. Steve's smile cuts like a knife.

#stony #steve rogers #tony stark #stevetony #steve x tony #superhusbands #marvel #mcu #nsfk #imperialstark fic #imperialstark writing #my fic #my writing #this one isn't too long but i'll still put it under a keep reading #lemons #lemon

132 notes · View notes

yamithediaperdork · 3 years

Text

Midnight Stroll (Soul eater)

Midnight stroll

It was a bright star and moon filled night out, something that a certain weapon wasn't all that happy with as he made his way toward the park in death city. When he'd originally planned this all out it had been with the understanding of a cloudy night to help him hide a little better and now that plan had gone to hell. Of course the fact he was even going to enact his plan outside meant that our hero wanted to be seen but still. who's our hero and whats the plan you may be asking? The Hero of course was Soul, weapon extorinair and always hungry for well, souls.And his plan was to engage in his bi monthly diaper waddle of shame. You see Soul wasn't like most boys his age who were off chasing girls and being all manly. his idea of a ideal date would be getting spanked silly, diapered and teased till he pooped himself and then being put to bed in a crib without a diaper change. As you might expect, this made his dating options slim to none so he just handled his babying himself. Granted there had been a close call or two when his roommate Black Star had walked in while he was diapered but Soul had manged to get under his blankets before being seen.

It was that close call that had soul decide to take his diaper games public, though he really only went out around midnight, and only did a quick little walk (or waddle if you prefer) in a area where not many people were up/knew him. before he had done massive diapers under shorts, and a diaper and t-shirt but tonight's main event so to speak would be his most daring outfit yet, and this time he wasn't going to carry his big boy clothes in a back pack with him. This time he was going to leave them in the public bathroom at the park so he'd have no real way of wussing out and hiding in a alley, scrambling to get pants on over his diapers. Just the thought of how MUCH of a big dumb stupid baby he was going to be had him almost skipping as he made his way into the park and made a B line for the bathrooms.

In the bathroom stall Soul paused and caught his breath, mentally psyching himself up for what he was going to do There was no two ways about it, while the THOUGHT of what he was going to do had him rock hard and squirming like crazy as he leaked into his Garfield briefs, he KNEW just how bad this could be if he was caught. Just picturing Maka or Death or really ANY of his friends finding out what a big baby he was had him whimpering even if he was totally ready to have a 'accident' if he kept it up. Still, he hadn't blown a ton of money to order these items in and NOT use them, and nothing ventured nothing gained. or some bullshit like that. In any case, he started to strip.

Walking out of the bathroom with a waddle in his step, Soul was crimson faced but grinning like a fool as he checked out his reflection in the mirror. looking back at him was a young man, in thick massive nursery print diapers that forced his legs apart and would be more then up for the challenge of holding ANY messes the so called big boy could make. On his feet gone were the sneakers and instead was a pair of white baby booties in his size with little silver stars decorating them. His scrawny chest was covered with a plastic bib, white with a silver trim and in silver letters proclaimed soul to be a 'messy eater.' In his mouth bobbing in and out, and attached to a string around Soul's neck was a white and silver Pacifier, with a extra large nipple on it so his whole mouth was filled and it was already making him drool like the big baby he was. the final piece of his new look was a oversized white and silver baby bonnet to A) help him look even more silly and B) help help his identity. 'You, are SUCH a baby!' he thought to himself, squirming and crinkling as he wiggled his hips. Giggling like crazy he waddled back over to the stall and zipped up the book bag with all his big boy stuff in it and hung it on the inside door hook, the closed the stalls from the outside. Sure anyone who pushed on the door would see no one was in there buttt it wasn't like the place was exactly hopping with a bunch of people so Soul was sure it would be ok.

the first few steps into the wide open area of the park was the most nerve wracking, there was NO where to dodge and try and hide once he walked more then five steps away from the bathroom and Soul felt like at any second everyone and their uncle was going to pop outta nowhere and point and laugh at him. 'Mental note..next time toke up first.' he thought, squirming and his belly full of butterflies as he waddle over toward the play structure. Plopping his butt down in one of the swings (and barley fitting) he looked over at the baby seat swing with want in his eyes but if his fat diaper butt could barely fit in a normal swing, they'd have to call someone to cut him free out of one of those. Swinging back and forth a little he closed his eyes and pretended that it was the middle of the day, and a group of kids were all gathered around pointing and laughing at him. 'oh nooo! they're all being sooo mean to widdle meee! where my mommy and da-' Soul was thinking , but with his eyes closed and getting carried away he didn't notice that the slick plastic of his diapers had been sliding on the seat and suddenly he fell off the back of the swing. '...owwwwww..' he whined mentally, looking up at the sky. Since clearly swings and his diapers were going to work out on this fine evening, Soul after picking himself up moved on towards the slide. Climbing on the metal ladder with it being somewhat narrow and his diaper so bulky was a little trickier then he'd thought it would be and his foot slipped more then once as he made his way up. 'I swear, if I hurt myself AGAIN on playground equipment I'm just gonna bring a bucket and sand shovel next time and play in the sand box.' Soul thought dryly. the fact that he was apparently too much of a baby to use this stuff meant for little kids though DID make him feel nice and babyish and he was all grins as he got to the top of the slide and started to come down..At least till the static cling and the bulk of the diaper and the smallish sides of the slide meant while he didn't get stuck, he got one hell of a diaper wedgie. 'Anddd I think I'm done with the playground.' Soul thought sheepishly, trying to pick his diapers out of his ass crack.

The next part of his little planned fun was a little bit more risky then just playing on the playground. the playground had been close enough to the bathroom that he could of dashed back in as needed, but now as he tapped his chin and looked in different direction, he was going to go and walk for a block in the city on one of those directions. He wasn't too worried about being jumped or attack since well, diapers or no diapers he was a fucking weapon, but still people seeing him, pointing and laughing, maybe even taking pictures.... It was everything he dreaded and everything he wanted and it didn't take long for any common sense to be drowned out and he picked the southern route, meaning a good 6 minutes of waddling just in the park before even hitting the streets. His nipples stiff under his baby bib, Soul took one last look back at the park, then waddled out into the city.

as fate would have it, the path that Soul took actually went by a new all night gay bar, something he didn't realize till he turned a corner and there was a group of 5 well muscled men out having a smoke. The sight made him freeze in his tracks which was bad because he was under a street lamp at the time and while he to unfreeze and back track, he got noticed. "What the hell.." Came a drunken voice. "Oh my god! Tell me I'm actually seeing this and it's not just the phantom blast shots I've been pounding!" "Pffftt..it's a little diaper boy!" "You lost little boy? come sit with uncle." Anther one called and patted his lap. "Heh, think they'd wipe our bar tab clean if we brought him inside?" The last one asked. Soul's paci was moving in and out of his mouth BIG time now as he unfroze, but was squirming like crazy as a deep red blush covered his face. the men got up and started to walk over, smirking, smiling and one of them was pulling his cell phone out! "A-Ah! N-No pictures please!" Soul squeaked out, letting the paci fall out of his mouth and trying to cover his face. "heh..Cutie offer cutie. turn around and wiggle that cute butt of yours for us and there will be no FACE pictures." Cell phone said. A huge whine came out of soul, but he had to admit this was exactly that kind of attention he had humped stuffies into oblivion thinking about. It wasn't like he was going to be able to outrun the guys even if they were clearly wasted with the massive diaper between his legs and he briefly thought about maybe just switching to pull ups for next time so he could take off easier if this sorta thing happened again. Banishing THAT thought from his mind he did a half turn so his pampered butt was facing the drunks and then he started to shake it back and forth and getting into it, reached back and slapped it a couple of times. "Oh, somebodies a naughty baby huh? Does your daddy and mommy know where you are?" "hehehe Nope~! And.." Soul paused, the attention and the feeling of all of this short circuiting any restraint. "And it's just my daddy. We live together but he doesn't know what a dumb diaper bitch I am and How much I love being a pamper filling humiliation junkie~" "..well I'm hard." came a voice he recognized as cell phones. Soul giggled and wagged a finger back and forth. "ah ah ah, Sorry Uncles..This diaper boy is a official virgin for life so I can't help you with that! No sex for me ever, just poopie diapers and lots of teasing!" Soul giggled, then swatted his butt again and rubbed the front of his diapers. "Oh man.. no one is ever going to believe this..even with the pictures." "I'm seeing it with my own two eyes and -I- can't." Soul giggled again but then his tummy gurgled and grumbled, apparently his greasy supper wanted to make a appearance. "..wait..is he going to.." One of the guys asked. Not having to look at them, Soul found himself more daring then ever and popped a squat, rubbing his tummy. "Ohhh nooo! the big dumb BABY has to go boom boom!" he whined in babyish tone, and dared a look over his shoulder. and then paled. the original five had turned into 15 men watching him and smirking and suddenly the idea of loading his diapers in front of such a big crowd didn't seem like such a good idea. "A-Ah on second thought.." He squeaked. "Aww come on, don't be a cock tease! you promised us a show!" a guy wearing a bandana and sunglasses at night protested. "I..But..This is too many..and.." Soul whined and squirmed, his guts churning and a muffled fart coming out of him. "...Ok guys we're scaring the baby. phones away, no one record little soul's accident." Came the voice of one of the original five and Soul relaxed for a second..then turned around, letting out a massive poot and eyes wide. "W-Wait you know m-my name!?!" He practically shrieked. "uh..Yeah. wasssss I not suppose to? you're kinda famous in town." the guy said rubbing the back of his head. "..I'm going to run away now." Soul said, voice going faint. He made it all of five steps in his effort to get away, over the protest of his crowd of 'fans' when he was forced to hunch over and pop a squat again. Those who watched the show would later on agree while the visual effect of watching a deadly weapon helplessly blort out his diaper so it was sagging and discolored was hawt..they could of done without the smell. Still when Soul had dropped to his knees and pounded a fist on the street, while crying out that he was making cum cums, that helped them put up with the stink.

The waddle back to the park took much longer, though with the heavy load in his diaper making him waddle worse then before and his legs weak from the force of his orgasm it wasn't that shocking. Several times he had to pause and rest against a lamppost, and just suck on his paci, having semi orgasmic after shocks as he thought about what he had just done. 'Well, Ones thing for sure. that's to sure fuel my stuffie humping for at least half a year.' He thought and giggled a little. Finally making his way back to the bathroom, and having to wave away flies now, soul had let the paci fall from his mouth as he was holding his nose. "guh, I'm fucking rotten. no more greasy joeys fried chili-dogs for me." He muttered softly and spotted his stall. and froze. because it was wide open. "Ohhh no. no no no.." Soul said, gulping and a shaky smile on his face. "M-My Book bag is GOING to be there. it's going to be there. it's going to be there." it became a mantra as he took one step at a time, a feeling of weakness washing over him. "it's going to be there. it's..it's.." Soul mewed as he made it and looked, tears welling up in his eyes. "It's..Not here..But..my house key was in there...I..I have to waddle home..In..In a poopie diaper..and..And get Black star to let me in.." the big baby went silent as it sunk in and then feel to his knees crying out and sobbing even as a second powerful orgasm wracked though his body.

Black star was less then pleased as the doorbell wouldn't stop. he'd had more then a few drinks before going to bed and shouted for soul to get the fucking door, but of course the white haired bastard was ignoring him. 'I swear..after I answer the door if he's still asleep it's hand in warm water time.' Black thought. in just his white boxers with little black stars all over it (Yes, he was THAT vain) he made his way down to the front door. Modesty wasn't really a big thing for him and to be fair with how late it was fuck whoever was knocking on the door and ringing the door bell, they could see him in his undies. Not bothering to use the peephole first to see who it was, Black Star just opened the door and started to snarl. "What do you fucking..want..Uh..soul?" he roared, then went from a pissed off face, to a confused one, then smirking. "Oh. My. God." Soul whined and blushed, squirming back and forth. "C-Can you just move and let me in already?" the big baby whined. "Bwhahahaha! I knew it! Maka and everyone else said I was crazy But I fucking knew it! I know that was a diaper I saw you in the other day!" Black star crowed, then paused and wrinkled his nose. "wait..is that smell coming from you?" "N-No! I mean..yes, but uh..I just..stepped in some dog crap! yeah! that's it an-" Soul tried to say, but Black star not only tugged him into the house, but turned him around and planted his palm on the massive mess in the back of soul's diapered, making the big babies eyes roll in his head. "You did! you totally fudged yourself! Oh man!" Black star laughed, and then kept patting the poor weapons droopy pampers. "I think we need to have a nice long talk about how things are going to change around here, don't you?" Black Star asked and smirked. "I..I Uh..Ohh.." the weapon mewed and spread his legs to allow Star a easier time of smushing his mush tush. "though first and foremost, the first thing that needs to be changed is your stinky diaper butt..little boy." Black star said and then kissed soul's cheek. As his third orgasm in under a hour wracked his body, soul couldn't help but think that maybe he should of just stayed in tonight and streamed a movie.

The end

8 notes · View notes

slapshot-to-the-heart · 4 years

Text

Flatbush & Atlantic: part ii

Here’s part ii! Please reblog and send your thoughts, I love hearing feedback! I was doing a ton of research on American immigration law, and it doesn’t look like Canadians technically need a visa for most work circumstances, but I’m taking it as a matter of artistic license.

https://slapshot-to-the-heart.tumblr.com/post/615257287896989696/flatbush-atlantic-part-i

part ii

October 5

“Mat, I’m in the middle of a meeting,” Chris said, glancing up at him with a bemused-yet-slightly-annoyed look on his face.

Mat looked over at Cass, ducking his head and sheepishly tucking his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Oh, yeah. For sure. I’m sorry, I should have knocked, but I got this letter, and. Yeah. I shouldn’t have interrupted, that was rude. I’m sorry.” Cass couldn’t help but let out a snicker at his rambling, and Mat turned to look at her with a raised eyebrow. He held out his hand. She took it. “Sorry about that.” His cheeks colored. “I keep apologizing. I’m Mat Barzal.”

“Cass Cabrera Shaw,” she replied.

“Cass is our new intern, so you’ll be seeing each other around. Hopefully not too often.” Chris said, nodding to where she sat in front of him.

“I got the job?” Cass asked, her head jerking back to look at Chris.

Chris nodded like it should have been obvious. “Cassidy. You’re more than qualified, you know the sport, you understand the responsibilities. You go to a top 5 law school. Yeah, you’re hired.” She blinked, still trying to take it all in. Chris turned to Mat. “Okay, Barzal, you’re up. What’s wrong?”

Mat scratched his neck. “Okay, so I know I should have looked into it sooner and taken responsibility for it. And I do, I mean, take responsibility for it. It’s just, I was in Vancouver for the summer and then vacation and then training camp and—”

Chris cut him off. “Barzal. What is it?”

“I missed the deadline for my visa renewal.” That sounds familiar, Cass thought ruefully. At least she wouldn’t be alone in her dumbassery.

Chris put his head in his hands.

Mat held up a hand. “Wait, it’s not as bad as it seems, I promise.”

“Try me.”

“I called whoever’s in charge, they left a number on the letter—”

“State Department,” Cass said, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her hair when Mat looked back at her, a hint of a smile on his face.

He nodded. “Thanks. Yeah, them. I called them and explained the situation, and they agreed to give me an extension.”

Chris cleared his throat. “And by ‘the situation,’ you mean…” He trailed off.

“That I was an NHL player who wasn’t in the country when they sent reminder letters. I might have used the Commissioner’s name once or twice.” Mat said sheepishly.

“And we all know how much weight Gary Bettman’s name carries with American immigration policy,” Chris deadpanned. “Okay, give me a second to think how we’re going to get this done. How much of the forms have you filled out?”

Mat flipped open the folder he had brought, scanning the pages. “Most of it.” At least he’s not entirely hopeless. “There were a couple things I wasn’t sure about, and some new stuff that I don’t remember from last time. I figured it was better to bring it in than try to submit it on my own and get it all horribly wrong.”

“Thank God for that,” Chris said, giving a half-smile. After another minute or so of thinking, he raised his head and looked to where Cassidy was still sitting, straight across the desk. “I saw on your transcript that you’ve taken several immigration law classes. Any fieldwork?” Chris asked.

Cass nodded. “Yeah, there was a clinic run by the school that reviewed visa applications and other paperwork for recent immigrants, I volunteered there for a few months.”

“Good. How familiar are you with O1 visas?” He asked, looking in between Cassidy and Mat.

“For extraordinary capability? I’ve studied them a little, I know that’s the kind that most NHL players are obviously on but I’m not an expert by any means,” she said.

Chris tapped his fingers on the desk, seemingly lost in thought, before his eyes flickered between her and Mat. “Okay. You’ll be running point on Mat’s visa renewal.” Cassidy’s face blanched. “It’s mostly done so it shouldn’t be too hard. But between you and me,” he paused, raising an eyebrow at Mat, “I wouldn’t trust this boy to fill out the paperwork to adopt a goldfish, so make sure you double-check everything he wrote in. Come to me or Richard with any questions, but I really do think you’ll be fine. Got it?”

Cass jerkily nodded her head, still trying to fully process. In the span of the last ten minutes, she had gotten a job that she thought she had no chance for and had been put in charge of a very delicate, very expensive, very important set of immigration paperwork for Mat Barzal. Mat Barzal, the 2018 Calder Trophy winner. Mathew Barzal, the future of the Islanders. No pressure.

“I should probably give you my number,” Mat said, pulling out his phone and holding it out to her. She looked at him with confusion, head tilted to one side. Mat’s face flushed and he rushed to clarify. “Like for the work stuff. In case I have questions about the visa or you need me to translate my chicken scratch for you.”

Now it was Cass’ turn to blush, gently taking his phone out of his hands and navigating to the messages. “I’ll text myself, that way you’ll have my number too. For questions,” she paused briefly, “or anything else.” Cass was typically never that bold, but there was something about the way Mat cracked a smile that made her sure she had made the right decision.

Chris coughed, bringing their attention back to the desk and the issue at hand. “I’ll go and make a copy of these for your records, Mat,” he said, standing up and reaching over the desk for the file with the visa forms, “and Cass, you’ll be working off of the originals.” He glanced between the pair. “Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone.”

Chris closed the door behind him, and Mat leaned up against one of the filing cabinets. “So, you’re working for the team now?”

“Yeah.” Cass nodded. “I’m excited, it seems like it’ll be a great position, but I think the prospect of my betrayal might be too much for my poor dad. Working for the enemy and all.”

Mat let out a laugh. “Rangers fan?”

“Big one. I’m from Connecticut so he grew up with the Whalers mostly, but when they folded the family allegiance switched. And when Mike Shaw is in on something, he’s all in. I’m fearing for my well being,” she joked dryly, the corner of her mouth twitching up.

“I think you’ll be fine,” he said, looking up at her. “Tell your dad that I promise we’re not as bad as we seem. Tito, maybe,” he added, wiggling his hand. “But I’m a good guy, as long as you promise not to sell off our training secrets and pass formations to the highest bidder.”

Cass held up three fingers. “I give you my word as a former Girl Scout that I won’t leak the absolute mountains of information I have access to.”

“Pinky promise?” Mat asked, holding out his hand.

It was Cass’ turn to laugh, and she stood up from her chair, leaning over and interlocking their fingers. “Pinky promise.”

Chris chose that particular moment to walk back in, raising his eyebrows briefly. “What’s going on here?”

Mat cleared his throat. “It took a lot of convincing, but I got Cass to pinky promise me that she won’t sell us out to the Rangers.”

“I’m glad to hear it. Apparently there was a rash of double-crossing by interns that I wasn’t aware of,” Chris said, handing over the sheaf of copies to Mat. “And Cassidy, I’ll see you tomorrow at 10?” Cass internally groaned, knowing that it would take well over an hour on the train. Still, she nodded curtly. “Of course.”

He smiled, reaching over the desk and shaking her hand. “I’ll put these,” he said, gesturing to the forms, “in your desk tomorrow. You’ll be working out in the main area, we’ll get you set up when you come in. Other than that, you’re good to go. Glad to have you on board. Genuinely.”

Cass leaned down to pick up her backpack, walking out the door and into the elevator with Mat by her side. “So, I’ll call you if I’ve got questions on any of this, right?” He asked, folding the papers and tucking them into his inside jacket pocket.

She nodded. “Yeah. This one is a little different but I’ve done a lot of filling out forms and revision for this before, so I don’t think it’ll be too much of an issue. If I don’t know the answer to something, I can find it for you. I might have some questions tomorrow, you guys have a game, right?” Cass asked. Mat nodded. “So obviously I know you’ll have morning skate and be by the arena most of the day, but try to have your phone with you when you can so we don’t have to play phone tag, y’know?”

He smiled, holding the front door open for her as they existed onto the busy street. “I’ll do my best, Cass. See you soon.”

As promised, as soon as Mat had turned the corner, Cass pulled out her phone, clicking on Samaira’s contact. She picked up on the first ring. “Samaira, you’re not going to believe what my afternoon has been like.”

She headed straight to her room after getting home, managing to squeeze in a few hours of reading before getting started on dinner. Pasta was easy to make for everyone; Alicia was lactose intolerant and Stella kept kosher, so simplicity was often key in group meals. Sautéeing some collard greens with onions and garlic, she turned her head towards the rooms and hollered to the rest of the apartment. “DINNER’S ALMOST READY!”

Much to her chagrin, Cass got up bright and early the next day, shoveling down a bowl of cereal before grabbing her bag and heading out the door.

October 12 (fri)

The Islanders had a weeklong road trip, so Cass had been reassigned to contract review since she was all but done with Mat’s visa renewal. She glanced at her watch, seeing that it was nearly noon. Nearly noon meant nearly lunchtime. She hadn’t figured out what she wanted to have for lunch quite yet, but food carts in New York were a dime a dozen; while she wasn’t being paid for the internship, she was given a stipend for lunch and travel expenses that she took full advantage of. Just as she flipped the page over, the office door opened. Assuming that it was some assistant coming for Chris or one of the other lawyers returning from a different office, she didn’t pay it too much mind. That was, however, until the figure stopped by her desk, coughing to get her attention. “Yeah?” She questioned, looking up and tilting her head in confusion when she saw that it was Mat.

“I had a question about one of the employment history sections, and the office said you’d be here today. I brought food,” he said, holding up a paper back emblazoned with the name of a local Chinese restaurant.

“Oh God, bless your heart,” she said, pulling over another chair. “I’m starving. Sit down, walk me through it. What’s got you confused?” It didn’t occur to Cass that he could have easily asked her over text.

October 17 (tues)

Sitting at her desk, Cass was trying (and failing) to finish her notes before midnight when her phone lit up with a text. And then another one. And then another. Rolling her eyes, she picked it up, expecting something from one of her younger siblings or a friend from back home. Instead, it was Mat. Hew brow instantly furrowed, swiping up to see what was the matter. He had sent two pictures, both screenshots from newspapers. Florida Man Arrested for Throwing Gator at Mother-in-Law, the first one read. Florida Man Charged with Reckless Endangerment for Filling Nursing Home Koi Pond with Baby Gators, said the other. Do u think it’s the same guy? He asked.

Rolling her eyes, Cass wrote out a reply. No doubt. Criminals have patterns.

So do u think all Florida men are obsessed with gators or just this one?

Gator cult. She tapped send, picking it back up almost immediately. Obviously.

October 21 (sat)

The plane back from Montréal is about to leave. Any album recs?

Mat and Cass had been texting back-and-forth for the past few days, so it wasn’t exactly a surprise that he asked her.

Wasteland, Baby - Hozier, Electric Light - James Bay. Amidst the Chaos - Sara Bareilles if ya wanna get a little spicy. I’m mostly an indie kinda girl, give me a sec and I’ll send you my playlist.

Can’t wait, Mat responded. Cass loved music, and always found it to be something intensely personal. So what was it about Mat that made her so willing to share?

October 23 (mon)

Cass hated getting up early, but there were some things better than sleep. You wanna get coffee before your classes? Mat had texted the night before. Coffee was one of them. Grabbing her backpack and tugging on her favorite pair of ankle boots, she headed out the door at 7:02.

“Where are you headed this early?” Alicia asked quizzically, her own tote slung over one shoulder. Ryanne almost always left the earliest, usually having to get to her rounds well before anyone else had woken up.

“Mat and I are going out for coffee,” she said, picking up her keys from the nail by the door.

Alicia wiggled her eyebrows. “Oooooh, Cass has a daaaateee,” she said in a sing-song voice.

Cass’s cheeks burned. “It’s not a date, I’m just helping him out with some paperwork. He’s asking me out as a friend. Just because he’s cute—”

Alicia cut her off. “AHA! So you DO admit that you think he’s cute?”

Cass groaned. “Yeah, okay, he’s cute. You happy?” Alicia nodded. “But just because I think he’s attractive doesn’t mean that this is going to be anything other than friends getting together before work, okay?”

Her friend shrugged. “Whatever you say, Cass. Have fun, be safe! Use prot—” Cass closed the door as quickly as she could without slamming it. Forty minutes later, she was walking up to the coffee shop, greeting Mat with a hug.

“Sorry if I kept you waiting,” Cass said.

Mat shook his head. “You didn’t, don’t apologize.” He opened the door for her, hand ghosting over the small of her back as he followed her in line. A few minutes later, Mat was at the register, ordering a cappuccino. He turned to her. “What do you want, Cass?”

“Mat, you don’t have to pay for me,” Cass said, pulling out her wallet.

Mat gently pushed her hand down. “I was the one who suggested it, Cass. I’m paying the bill.” He handed over his card to the barista, turning back to her with a smile. “You can get it next time.” She laughed.

“Fine, you win. Coconut milk latté.”

Oct 25 (wed)

“Afternoon pick-me-up?” Cass looked up from her desk, confused but excited to see Mat in front of her desk.

“Huh?”

He held up a coffee cup, a speckled white-and-blue reusable. “You mentioned something about needing me to sign the last page or something? I brought you coffee, the cup’s for you too. Place says you’ll save 25¢ whenever you use it.”

“Yeah,” Cass said slowly, “and you faxed it over, right? Kristie said they got it in this morning.” Kristie was the office assistant, and had handed the page to Cass right as she had walked in the door half an hour prior.

“Oh, uh, yeah,” Mat said, seemingly flustered. “I was worried I might have made a mistake on it, so I thought I’d come over and double-check.”

“You’re worried you made a mistake signing your own name?” Cass didn’t quite understand it, but there was something really endearing about him wanting to come down and check it himself rather than just calling her or emailing Chris. “Okay then,” she said, leaning over her laptop to grab the folder. She traded it for the coffee in Mat’s hand, the Post-it note on the side of the cup catching her eye. Coconut milk latté. He remembered.

Oct 26 (thurs)

What are your thoughts on sushi? Cass got a text from Mat as she was about to get out of her environmental law lecture. The professor had already started packing up her things, so she risked a message back.

As a concept or as a food?

The food haha

All positive, love sushi!

I know this great place in Chelsea, want to grab dinner later?

You don’t have a late practice or anything with the guys? From what she had gathered, even when it wasn’t a game day, Mat would usually get an extra workout in after practice or go out with Tito and some of the rest of the team.

Nope :) Nothing after 2

Cass bit her lip, weighing her options as she shut her laptop and exited the lecture hall. She wasn’t reading too much into it, was she? Friends got dinner together all the time, it wasn’t weird for him to have asked her. It was normal. Typical friend stuff. Sure, she liked him. She liked him a lot. But it wasn’t worth jeopardizing her career and reputation to try and fabricate something that probably wasn’t even there. Sounds good! I should be able to get there 6ish if that works for you?

Perfect! He wrote back, I’ll send you the address.

Les and Fiona caught up to her that afternoon after she practically ran out of their review session the second it was done. “Woah woah woah,” Fiona asked, catching Cass just as she was about to exit the library. “Where are you headed off to so quick?”

Cass tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, scrunching up her nose. “Getting dinner with Mat.”

Les wiggled his eyebrows. “Ooooh, your man?”

Cass went red. “He’s not my man! He just asked if I wanted to get sushi. And I’m hungry, and he said he’s paying. So I said yes.”

“But you like him,” Les said, as if he was stating the obvious. Which, in a way, he was?

She shrugged her shoulders. “Yeah. It’s hard not to. But he asked me out as friends. It’s not a date. If it was a date, he would have said so? Right?” She was starting to ramble.

Fiona reached out to touch her shoulder, rubbing her thumb back and forth. “Maybe. But maybe not. It’s possible that he is into you, but you and I both know that’s a question best answered by someone other than us,” she pointed at her and Les. “And even if he doesn’t, it’s still a free dinner.”

Cass let out a small smile. “You’re right.” She glanced at her watch. “I told him I’d be there by 6, so I probably should get going if I want to catch the train in time.” She gave each of them a brief hug. “See you next week!”

“GOOD LUCK!” Tyler hollered as she turned the corner. Cass’ cheeks burned, and she was beginning to realize why.

---

Cass got home from the restaurant just after 9, trying desperately to make sense of the past few weeks. Getting ahead of herself had never led to anything good, and much though she wanted to, Cass wasn’t about to put words in Mat’s mouth. But he had been the one to suggest dinner, and he had picked up the tab again. “You’re in law school,” Mat had said with a shrug when the check came. “I’m not about to make you pay for your own food when you don’t have to.” Shaking her head and pulling out the kettle to make a cup of tea, she tried again to rationalize everything. “We’re friends. I’m doing him a solid by helping him out with this paperwork, he’s just trying to be nice and pay me back. Which he doesn’t need to do, because it’s my job. But he’s nice, so he’s doing it anyway. Because we’re friends.” Frustrated, she grabbed her mug, walking back to her bedroom and barely paying any mind to the splashes of near-boiling water that hit the ground.

Oct. 27 (fri)

It was a quarter to 6, and Cass couldn’t wait to get out of the office. It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy her job. It was incredible and she was so thankful for the opportunity. It was the fact that Mat fucking Barzal had been on her mind all day and she had been finding it so damn hard to concentrate on research and contracts and precedent when she was busy trying to sift through her own feelings. Cass wasn’t a particularly insecure person; like anyone else, she had those days, but it wasn’t really a matter of her thinking he was “out of her league” or that she wasn’t good enough for him. She knew that the whole concept of “leagues” was dumb and classist, but there was something about the whole dynamic that she couldn’t quite shake, and couldn’t quite tell if it was something good or not. It was five minutes to six, and she couldn’t stop her fingers tapping on her desk, waiting to be set free. Waiting for her mind to stop racing. Waiting for her heart to stop pounding.

She spent the next five minutes trying in vain to get through a paper Chris had sent her — she had even broken out her neon highlighters — but nothing was working. Thankfully, Chris chose that moment to stick his head out of his office and call to her. “Cass?” Her head perked up. “I’ve got some files to email you, mind coming in for a sec before you leave?” She nodded, pushing out of her chair and crossing the room.

“How was your day?” Chris asked, pulling up the files to email her.

“Uh, pretty good!” Cass said. “Fridays are relatively light for me, I had a morning meeting with the law review and then headed over here. Mat and I got sushi last night, so that was nice.”

Chris looked up over his laptop. “You and Mat?”

Cass nodded, brows furrowing. “Yeah. Is that an issue?” It was never something she had bothered considering, but —

“Not that I can think of, no,” he said, shaking his head. “You’re spending a lot of time together, though, have you noticed that?”

“Yeah, I mean, we’re friends, but I didn’t think that was a problem—” Chris held up a hand, cutting her off with a smile.

“I’m not so sure that what Mat wants is a friendship, Cassidy.” He paused. “My son’s about his age, and please feel free to stop me if you’d like, but this is exactly how he acted when he met Iris.”

“Iris?” Cass questioned.

“His fiancée. If I’m reading the situation right, and I think I am, the poor boy’s head over heels for you, Cass.” He clicked his mousepad. “Just sent them over, try to go through them by Monday.”

She nodded, seemingly in a daze as she picked up her bag and walked out of the office, pulling out her phone.

To: Mat

Are you free later?

Oct 28. (sat)

Tapping her foot nervously, Cass fiddled with her phone just to give her hands something to do. They had grabbed breakfast before she had to head to the office and he had to go to morning skate, and she had stolen the check while he was in the bathroom. But she still hadn’t brought up what Chris had said, or for that matter what Les or Samaira or Alicia had been pestering her about for the better part of the past month.

Mat returned to the table, snapping Cass out of her thoughts. “You ready to head out?” It was only just past nine, so the plan had been to take a walk around Prospect Park before they had to take off. Cass nodded awkwardly, grabbing her coat and scarf from the back of the chair and looping it around her neck. Mat’s brow furrowed in confusion, but if he suspected anything, he didn’t say so. He walked a few steps ahead of Cass, holding the door open for her. They walked in silence for a block or two; not an awkward silence and not a comfortable one, but some kind of strange liminal space in between the two where it was clear that neither of them was really able to read the room. Mat’s knuckles brushed up against her own.

As they crossed the street into the gardens, Cass took a deep breath and looked up at him. It’s now or never. “What are we doing?” She breathed, so softly that Mat wouldn’t have heard if he hadn’t been standing scarcely a foot away.

“We’re going to a park?” Mat questioned.

She wrung her hands, trying to avoid looking at him. “I mean, what are we doing. You and I.” She ran a hand through her hair. “I don’t want you to think that I’m reading too much into things, or that I haven’t enjoyed getting to know you and spend time with you because I have, but I just need to know what there is going on between us. If there is anything going on between us.”

Mat shoved his hands into his pockets, leaning up against a lamppost. “I mean, I’d like there to be. I’m into you, Cass, I thought I had made that clear,” he added with a single laugh. Cass gave him a quizzical look. “Do you think I actually needed to come into the office every time I dropped in on you? That I’d ask just anyone for music recs? That I asked you out to coffee or dinner just as friends? Cassidy,” he said, standing upright and taking a tentative step towards her, “I don’t even know Tito’s coffee order. But I know yours.” He took another step forwards when she didn’t move back, faces so close that their noses were almost touching. “I wouldn’t ever want to push you into something you weren’t ready for. But Cass,” he tilted her chin up with his hand, “I’m all in if you are.”

She took a shaky breath, willing the voices inside of her head to still themselves for just one moment so she could gather her thoughts. “Mat, I want this,” Cass said, gesturing between the two of them with one hand, the other wound with frustration in her curls. “You have no idea how much I want this. But I work for the team. We both do. And I can’t have anyone thinking that I’m here for anything but the job, that I’m a puck bunny or will be distracted from my work and go run off with my boyfriend or whatever you are—” She cut herself off abruptly. “Trotz might get mad at you, sure. I don’t think it would really matter on your end, though. You wouldn’t face any actual consequences. I’m expendable to this team. You’re not.”

Mat’s hand came up to cup her cheek, one thumb swiping away a tear gently, so gently, that she hadn’t even realized had leaked out of her eye. “You’re not expendable, Cass. Not to me, not to the team, not to anyone who’s ever bothered getting to know you. You are such an incredible woman and I know you know it, but sometimes it doesn’t seem like you really believe it. If this is scary for me, and it is, I know it must be downright terrifying for you. And I know you’re worried how it would look, us being together, what the team or Chris or whoever would think, but you need to remember to let your talent speak for itself. If I have a shitty game, miss an easy shot or whatever, there’s always the people who say that Trotz should move me down a line, or that I should be traded, or whatever. And there’s always going to be those people. But if you keep your head in the game—”

“Alright, Troy Bolton,” Cass said, finally giving him a watery smile.

“You realize that if I’m Troy, you’re Gabriella?” Mat asked, raising one eyebrow, hand still on her cheek as the other perched on her waist. Cass leaned into his touch, wrinkling her nose. “Maybe that was a bad metaphor, but Cass, you’re brilliant. You’re such a good student and you’re so dedicated at work. You’re going to make an incredible lawyer. Everyone sees that. And I absolutely respect that you’re worried about what our relationship might do for your career,” He swallowed hard, skating his hand down her arm to hold her hand. “And I’m not sure what else I could say other than what I already have. But you’re good, so good, and they’d be idiots for letting you go over something like this.”

Cass swallowed. “They say some things are worth the risk.”

“Are we gonna do this?” Mat’s hand moved to the small of her back, leaning down so their lips were almost touching, barely, not quite.

“We’re gonna do this.” Cass closed the gap.

#hockey imagine #mat barzal #mat barzal imagine #nhl imagine #hockey writing #nhl writing #nhl fluff #hockey fluff #islanders #new york islanders #mathew barzal #hockey imagines #nhl imagines #nhl smut #hockey smut

67 notes · View notes

evolsinner · 3 years

Text

⊱┊27

THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS SEXUAL ASSAULT. READER DISCRETION ADVISED.

-ˋˏ ༻🍷༺ ˎˊ-

theo pushes me against the door and smashes his lips onto mine. at the same time, he slides my denim spaghetti strap dress down my chest, exposing my bare chest to his full view.

“damn,” he admires them hungrily, “look at ‘em built~in stress balls.”

“take a picture, lasts longer,” i tilt his head back up to eye level with me.

“oh, don’t worry, i’m intending to,” and he crushes his lips back onto mine.

he grabs one of my boobs in his palms and squeezes before pinching my swollen nipple. soft moans flow out from my mouth and my wetness down there increases.

🎶my milkshake brings all the boys to the yard and they’re like, it’s better than yours damn right it’s better than yours

“nice ringtone,” theo smirks.

“shut up.”

he chuckles. “aye, let’s see if your milkshake really does bring all the boys to the yard,” he smugly raises his eyebrows and lowers his mouth to the bud he had been torturing seconds before. he begins to suck on it whilst kneading the other one.

“ohhh,” i moan. “yesss.”

his tongue circles my areola, nibbling, slurping and lapping up his drools. after pretty much mutilating my nipple, he lands a cute peck on top of it like that’s somehow gonna heal every nasty thing he did to it. “tell me how you like it done, babygirl.”

“touch me.”

he pulls the rest of my dress below my waist and skims his hand down my stomach to my core. if i keep my eyes shut for long enough, i could pretend it’s not him. i’m torn between wanting to remember and forget. i want to remember how it felt when isaac touched me, but i want to forget how it felt when he broke me...

“damn, you’re so wet.”

my phone goes off again but this time it reminds me of reality. it reminds me of how my life was once a dream these past few months and now it has gone to literal shit. getting irritated, i lift theo’s shirt up and drag him into myself, desperately tugging at his zipper.

“alrighty then,” he grins. “my babygirl is one greedy little bitch, ‘cept imma spoil her like her daddy couldn’t.”

the dress slides off my body entirely and pools around my ankles. i wriggle out of my underwear. he gets rid of his pants and boxers. then he picks me up by the thighs and walks backward to his bed. he falls onto the bouncy mattress. i get on top and dry grind on him. he grips my waist like he’s got claws for nails.

“fuck, you’re good!” he groans.

i push myself further down onto his erection, the wetness of my core spreading to other parts. “ooh, theo.. “

“that’s it, baby, just like that,” he lifts his head up to watch me rub my kitty on him. “keep it go..ing..mm..oo..yeah..” he exhales deeply, dropping his head back down on the pillow.

i lower my hand, further massaging his bulge with my palm and pressing it into myself. more grunts escape from his mouth and it looks like he’s in a paradise of his own. my phone, yet again, goes off. i glance over my shoulder to where it’s placed on the far back cupboard.

theo yanks me down. “eyes on me, slut!”

his lips are so sour. i try to find the sweetness within them, but it’s difficult. it’s unlike the first time we kissed and unquestionably unlike mr killian’s, nowhere near.

isaac’s was a whole nother valhalla.

theo changes position, getting on top of me. he reaches over and pulls back the top drawer from his nightstand. everything is happening so fast. i am getting dazed and confused even faster. i lean up on my elbows, watching him rip up the silver packet with his teeth and rolling the rubber on.

he returns, caging me.

my respiration becomes dense and i kinda become uncomfortable, a bit claustrophobic. my ringtone continues on and off in the background and it really does bring me back to reality. the hell am i doing with the school’s pitcher??

“theo,” i calmly lay my hand on his abdomen, “i..i don’t think we should do this anymore.”

“c’mon, rosé,” he jeers. “what happened to that girl who was all over me in the boys’ locker room? surely, she’s in there somewhere. maybe i can help bring her out?”

“no, really, theo,” i reach my hand down, ceasing him from entering, “i want you to stop.”

i’ve made a mistake. this whole thing is a mistake. it was like a bandaid on the crack of my healing heart. only now that it’s beating again, all i wanna see is lime green eyes greeting me, not the blue that i’m drowning in.

“no, you don’t,” he decides for me and plants a rough kiss on my lips.

i press my head back, getting his tongue out of my mouth. “yes, i, fucking, do.”

“rosé, you can’t just fucking do that,” he snaps. “you can’t just get me hyped up like this and then not go through with it.”

i sigh, “i’m sorry. i just..i just thought i was ready, but i’m not.”

“it’s too late, you said yes already so quit being a pussy with that ‘i’m not ready’ shit girls do, and let me do my thing. i ain’t stopping.”

“but i’ve changed my mind, i don’t want to anymore. i’m sorry.”

“try to relax for me, okay?” he gets rid of the interference on behalf of my hand by gently placing it beside me. “i won’t hurt you.”

i stubbornly place that same hand at my entrance.

theo heaves, “well, what the hell do you suppose i do with my hard as fuck dick then?”

“fuck if i know. jerk off or something?”

“you’re shitting me, right?” he raises his eyebrows.

why is he being so demanding?! i’ve never seen this side of him.

a forced homely smile appears on his face. “...just relax.” he pretty much snatches my hand up and away. “and breathe, okay?”

before i can stop him again, he’s already inserting himself inside of me. i make an effort in relaxing, i really do, but my body just won’t have it.

“see, ain’t that bad,” his voice toys with me. “i’d ask if this is your first time, but i know it’s not.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

“whatever you make of it,” he avoids answering the question. “you good? i’m gonna start moving now.”

“please, baby, let’s just do this another day,” i push my hands up on his chest like i’m bench pressing him, but of course it does nothing. “promise i’ll make it worth your while?”

“for fuck’s sake, stop fucking resisting!” he lashes out. “it won’t do you any good but make it hurt more!”

i flinch at his sudden outburst and fear creeps up on me like slow molten lava. patience is wearing thin from both sides. i need it to stop, but i’m petrified of the monster this will unleash, this monster right in front of me. all the way in he goes and all the way out i feel utter disgust.

“you are tight as fuck, rosé,” he grunts. “almost like you’re milking me.”

“..theo.. maybe..i..we..”

“shhh, baby,” he whispers. “it’s okay.”

sickening aftertaste merges in with my saliva, my lips quiver.

he extracts, “you taste nice.”

i look to the side so that his gaze meets my cheek. he exists out of me slowly, then back in he goes. i try to move underneath his body, but he has me cemented in such a form where comfort is not an option, let alone the chance of escaping.

“don’t cry, rosé, please.”

at this, a dozen silent tears escape from my watery eyes. hostility is the only word that comes to my head. hostility in his eyes, hostility in his tone, hostility in his biceps. it’s like the smell of cigarettes, intoxicating, and that’s what scares me the most.

“i’m only giving you what you want, rosé.”

i can’t answer him.

“this is what you want, right?” he looks me dead in the eye.

i nod...

“good girl.”

the droplets trickle off the side of my temples and land on the plush pillow. i just want isaac. i need him. i miss him...his dimple, his half~smiles, his tired blinks...i miss him a lot.

“you’re doing great. just a little while longer, i promise.”

i dry my tears with his neck because i’m too scared to move my hands.

“hey, hey?” theo brushes the hair off my face. “shh, shhh,” he coos. “why you crying for, baby? you’re doing amazing, okay?”

there’s a sudden shift from soft to rough. it’s like he wants a taste of both worlds. his thrusting has intensified and his audible satisfaction has grown louder. the fear in me, well, that disappears. i don’t like being used in this way. taken advantage of.

“hones..honestly! you’re hurting me so please just get the fuck off me!”

he pins me down fully, almost like dead weight on top of me. he digs sharply into me like a shovel, tearing away at my insides a gluttonous thrust at a time. my tears crystallise, my body aches. it’s as if my heart is in the place of my brain; the pulses banging on my skull. i throw a series of blows to his chest, but even that works against me.

“don’t fight it. the only thing that’ll do is make me fuck you harder!”

my heart is thundering, there’s an apocalypse going on in each of the chambers and it’s taking everything in me to focus through the rumble. my hand despairingly searches for something on the nightstand, anything.

amongst the lamp, the tissue box, an opened marlboro pack, a lighter, a vape pen and some empty red bull cans, i finally hit jackpot. insanely tight, my fingers encircle themselves around the glass body of a corona extra.

1, 2, 3.

“fucking bitch!” he roars, clasping his head.

this gives me enough time to escape from underneath him. i fall out of the bed, slide back into my dress and leave everything else behind.

“rosé!!” theo growls after me, grabbing his boxers.

barefoot, i run to the stairs. only a meter away from the staircase when a hand latches onto my ankle, tripping me over. theo cusses and tries to claw his way atop of me, but i flip over and kick him in the nose. he groans loudly and releases me, cupping his nose.

i run down the stairs, feeling him only a step or two behind me. i slam into the door and begin desperately unhinging each lock in a row. fuck, how many goddamn locks does this guy have?! when the last one gets undone, i pull down on the handle only to be ruthlessly pulled right back with my fucking hair.

“where the fuck do you think you’re going, huh?!” theo snarls. “i ain’t done with you yet, babygirl.”

i scream, holding onto his hands holding my hair. he sickly inhales the scent of my neck and places his palm over my mouth. i bite down immensely hard. he rips his hand free and stumbles back.

silence.

i’m just so scared.

so, so scared.

i don’t see blue eyes anymore. i see grey. pure grey. they stare right through my soul, irises of like hurricanes trapped in tiny snow globes. the globes begin to crack, bit by bit... there will be an avalanche in just milliseconds.

i open the door, stumbling out onto the lawn before regaining my balance and breaking into a sprint. i look over my shoulder when suddenly i bump into a wall right in front of me, forcing me to arrive at a standstill.

glancing up, it’s not…a wall but..

isaac killian.

#teacher x student #romance #love #teacher #student #words #quotes #poems #poetry #sad #couples #relationship #escape

1 note · View note

starkercrossedlovers · 5 years

Text

Deal with the Devil

Did I tell you guys about the Crossroads Demon starker au I’ve been thinking a lot about?

No?

Well...here you go...

—————

Peter has heard the rumors about this place told in hushed whispers and hidden behind hands, as though simply speaking the words will call attention to the creature that supposedly can be found here.

Dirt cakes beneath his nails as he digs, heedless of the rocks and detritus that scrape his skin and draw blood. It mats under his nails and on his skin as he digs, cold sweat on the back of his neck.

The battered tin lunchbox with Captain America’s shield on it serves as his container for his offering—a photograph of the summoner, graveyard dirt, a black cat bone, and yarrow, placed exactly at the center of a crossroads.

He shovels the dirt back over the box and climbs to his feet, wiping his filth hands off on his jeans, the back of his hand swiping over his mouth, smearing grime and rusty blood over his lips.

He’s not sure how long it’s supposed to take, but as the minutes tick by his despair grows; it was all just rumor and superstition. With a broken sob, he turns away, thin shoulders curling forward.

“Now now, it can’t be all that bad.”

Peter whirls and goes wide eyed at the man standing before him. He’s barely taller than Peter but much more muscular, broad shouldered and narrow hipped with inky black hair that’s tousled artfully. He cuts an impressive figure in a trim black suit, the shirt and vest underneath as black as his eyes, the only color in the whole thing the strip of crimson silk around his neck.

At his side are two great beasts-and Peter hesitates to call them dogs because he’s never seen a dog this big. They stand tall and proud, barrel chested and black as night and have the oddest crimson eyes Peter has ever seen.

Swallowing hard, he shifts uneasily on his feet, gaze caught by the man (demon?) across from him. The man smirks, slow and wry, “Come now, tell me what brings you here,” he encourages, voice low and smoky like the cigars his uncle used to enjoy.

Peter hesitates and then nods, hands fisting at the hem of his T-shirt, “I-I’ve heard you help people,” he murmurs softly.

He’s heard the stories; The man down the street who had cancer and came back from the crossroads cured. The woman unable to bear children, blessed with twins. The unsolved murder, suddenly solved when the man responsible walked into the police station and confessed.

He’s heard the stories but he’s not sure he believes.

The man nods and scratches the head of one of the beasts, “If you have something of value to trade,” he agrees.

Peter’s heard about this too—the trade.

A soul, usually, as the stories go.

“I, I don’t have money,” he stammers and the man laughs, and Peter swears he hears thunder in it, low and rumbling.

“Oh pretty boy, I don’t need money,” the man says with a laugh. He snaps his fingers and a wad of cash three inches thick appears in his hand, “Your petty human paper means nothing to me,” he says with a grin.

Peter gasps as it goes up in flames, a hundred thousand dollars, smoldering in his palm, like it’s nothing. Enough money to feed he and his aunt, pay the mortgage, hire a lawyer...gone.

The man’s eyes sharpen, “Now tell me what you want or let me go, I don’t like being summoned without making a deal.”

Peter swallows hard and nods, “I...I need you to help me. My uncle was murdered and they can’t find his killers.”

The man tilts his head and studies Peter, “And what? You want me to find them? Punish them?” he asks. “Perhaps flay them alive or torture them with their darkest nightmares?” he suggests with a smirk.

Peter shakes his head vehemently, gut roiling, “No! No, I want them to be arrested and tried for their crimes!” he says, voice trembling.

For the first time the man shifts, and Peter flinches, stepping back as he closes the gap between them inhuamnely fast. A hand closes around his jaw and his gaze is forced up to meet the ebony one above him.

Up this close he can smell sulfur and brimstone and smoke, and the hand on his jaw is inhumanely hot. The man smirks, “Don’t lie to me boy, I can see inside your heart,” he hisses softly, “tell me the truth.”

Peter is trapped, the demon at his front and the hounds behind him now, their presence threatening and hot, reeking of ichor and misery. He whimpers and trembles in the grasp of the demon—because that’s what he is, despite Peter’s best attempts at ignorance.

“I want them punished,” he admits, voice cracking with anger that’s been repressed for far too long. “I want them to in agony for what they did to my uncle and aunt when they broke into our home.” He’s panting now, sweat on his chest, burning with righteous fury, “I want them to pay.”

The man grins in delight, “Finally, the truth,” he murmurs, voice sibilant and low, mouth twisted as though he’s tasting some arcane delight. “And what price are you willing to pay?” he asks hungrily, gaze sweeping Peter’s lean form.

Peter trembles in his grip. He doesn’t know what to offer; he has nothing—no power or prestige, no money.

“My soul?” he asks weakly, dread threading through him.

The man smirks, all teeth, and then nods. “Do you know how we seal the bond?” he asks softly, tongue swiping over his bottom lip.

Peter shakes his head, swallowing hard, “Blood?” he hazards.

The man rolls his head in a lazy nod, “Most of the others do, yes,” he agrees, hand sliding from Peter’s jaw to his throat, grip firm but not too tight. “I however, would like something, a little different from you,” he murmurs, hot breath on Peter’s skin as he leans in, lips scant breaths from Peter’s.

His eyes are dark and glowing, like embers in the night, and Peter trembles, fear and anticipation leaving him breathless.

A kiss, he thinks, a kiss won’t be so bad, if that’s what the demon wants.

A small price to pay for revenge.

The demon laughs, as though he’s heard Peter’s thoughts and shakes his head, “No sweet boy, I want your body, your flesh, your seed,” he croons, running a hand down Peter’s chest to cup his cock, grinning when he finds Peter half hard.

Peter gasps and frantically tries to think of something else he can offer, but he knows he has nothing else to give.

He nods, and damns himself for eternity.

A breath later a hot mouth is against his, tongue sweeping and demanding, and the taste of whiskey and smoke fills his mouth. Pleasure suffuses his veins, makes him weak and pliant and the next thing he knows he’s being pushed up against the stop sign at the side of the road, the demon’s hand beneath his shirt.

Nails take over his skin and he hisses, mewls and arches into the touch, gasping as the demon rubs his palm against Peter’s cock. He’s aching and dripping, grinding into the touch desperately, mewling softly, please please please.

The demon laughs and then suddenly he’s naked, shivering in the October night air. The man flips him and pushes him forward till he’s bent in half, face flushed as his ass pushes backward.

“Mmm, I haven’t seen anything as lovely as this in a millennia,” the demon murmurs, trailing a finger down Peter’s back, sliding down to press against the tight furl of his hole, the pressure and heat of his skin ripping a cry from Peter’s throat.

The demon chuckles and withdraws, “Has anyone taken you little one?” he asks, voice soft and silky like whiskey. Peter shakes his head, thighs quivering as he waits for something else to happen.

“Mmm, then I’ll be sure to make it pleasurable for you,” the man murmurs, and Peter gasps because his fingers are back, slick and hot, rubbing at his hole while his free hand slides up the sweaty planes of Peter’s chest to toy with his nipples.

Peter yelps when they’re twisted, a burning pleasure blooming under his skin with each touch, the ache as relentless as the demon’s hands on his body. His cock jerks against his belly, drooling and dripping, splatters of it falling to the dusty earth below.

The fingers at his hole push in and Peter shouts, seeing stars as he’s stretched, the burn of it leaving him shaking and sobbing. Lips press to his neck and a low voice murmurs in his ear, “Good boy, you’re so good Peter.”

Peter keens as they’re spread, sinking deeper, and then they touch something inside him that has his cock jolting and his voice cracking as he shouts again.

Low laughter fills his ears, “That’s it pretty, scream for me.”

Peter can’t hold back his sobs of pleasure as the demon attacks his prostate relentlessly, crooning filthy words of praise in his ear.

“Oh sweet thing, I haven’t seen anything as beautiful as you since the Fall.”

“That’s it dear boy, take it.”

A tongue flicks at his cheeks, swiping up the salt of his tears. “Delicious,” the demon croons.

A hand tangles in his curls and he can’t help the gasp he lets out when his head is pulled back, spine arching. He pushes back against the fingers inside him, desperate for more, begging through bitten red lips for anything the demon will give him.

The fingers inside him disappear and he keens at the loss, whining and arching back, flushing when the demon laughs at his desperation. He hears the jangle of a belt and the rasp of a zipper and then something hard and hot is pressing against his hole, something huge and thick and he barely has time to look back before his head is being wrenched back around.

He’s seen it though—the demon’s cock. It’s flushed crimson and dripping at the tip, thick veins pulsing under the skin and Peter has no idea how it’s going to fit because it’s easily as thick as his forearm and nearly as long.

When the demon pushes in Peter shouts, spots dancing in his vision as he’s speared open, sobbing as it keeps going, hard and thick and impossibly hot.

It feels like his insides are being pushed aside, the bruising weight of it too much and he rocks onto his toes trying to get away, only to be pulled back and forced further down the length of the demon’s cock.

When it’s fully inside him he’s delirious, trembling and whining, incoherent with something that’s too sharp to be pleasure and too soft to be pain. The demon licks the sweat from his neck and laughs softly, “Sweet boy, it’s been an age since I had one as soft as you,” he whispers, and then rolls his hips back, the drag of his cock punishing and sweet on Peter’s prostate.

Peter’s knuckles are white where he clings to the metal of the signpost, palms aching at the sharp bite of the edges, and he cries out when the demon’s cock tugs at his hole, very nearly gone from inside him and yet still too much there.

“Hold on sweet thing,” the demon says, laughter in his voice, and then plunges in, Peter’s scream echoing into the night.

It’s too much; too hot, too thick, but his own body betrays him—his cock drools and he moans louder with each thrust, relishing in the burn of too much inside him.

He’s had a finger or two inside himself before but nothing like this—each thrust of the demon’s cock is like a punch to his gut, a punishing ache in his prostate that has him weeping, gasping for air through a raw, dry throat.

“That’s it little one, take it.”

The demon growls and thrusts harder, teeth latching to Peter’s delicate flushed skin, marking him outside as he reaches around to fist Peter’s cock, the stimulation sharp and furious and he wails, tears on his cheeks as he comes.

The demon howls and bites down, copper in the air and on his tongue as he fucks into Peter relentlessly, the drag of his cock on Peter’s too sensitive insides like agony, but he pushes back into it nonetheless, panting like a bitch in heat as the demon milks his cock dry.

The sudden spurt of heat inside him is followed by the growl of something in a tongue that’s twisted and sounds like hell itself as the demon marks him on the inside—his, for all eternity.

When the demon finally stills, Peter is shaking so hard he’d fall over were it not for the demon’s hands around his waist. Lips press to the nape of his neck and one of the hands on his hip slides up to cup his throat, rough fingers pushing at his jaw till it’s tilted and the lips find his once more.

He tastes blood on the demon’s lips—his blood— and he thinks dizzily that they’ve sealed this bond with blood, tears, sweat and cum and that perhaps it’s not just his soul he’s lost here tonight, but his mind and body too.

Peter gasps and winces when the demon withdraws, clinging to the signpost as he rearranges himself and then suddenly finds himself dressed and standing back in the center of the road.

His legs quiver and his body aches, but he finds that the throb is dulled—the demon’s work, perhaps?

The man in question looks no less impeccable as he did when he first showed up—as though nothing has happened. The great beasts are back at his side, drooling acid and breathing in great bellows that stir the dust.

The demon smirks and an odd, unearthly glow—like hellfire, Peter thinks giddily—appears behind his eyes.

“I’ll see you again, Peter Parker.”

“Wait!”

Peter lunges forward and then stumbles when the hounds growl menacingly. The man laughs, patting their heads, “Hush Dum-e, U, let the pretty boy alone,” he croons, smirking at Peter.

“Well?” he drawls, sardonic and lazy.

“I uh, what if I need you again?” Peter asks, wondering what the hell is wrong with him as he does. If this isn’t some hallucination, then he’s sold his soul, and been fucked within an inch of his life by a demon who he shouldn’t want to see ever again.

The demon quirks his head and then smirks, “If you need me, call me,” he murmurs, flicking his fingers—Peter gasps as a smooth piece of card stock appears in his palm.

The lettering is black and raised—Tony Stark, Knight of Hell.

When Peter looks up the man—Tony—is gone.

—————

The next morning there’s a story in the news about two men who stumbled into the police station, covered in wounds, screaming about hell hounds and a man with glowing eyes torturing them in the night.

The confess to the murder of Ben Parker and the assault of May Parker and are thrown in jail where their screams each night haunt the hallways—just as they are haunted by their crimes, each and every night.

Peter calls Tony’s name one night soon after and gets on his knees to thank the demon.

Vengance has never tasted so sweet.

———-

@starkerforlife6969 @starkerchemistry @sluttystarker @xarles56 @darker-soft-starker @peterparkers7evilexes @peterparkersapunkassbitch @peterparkerisaslut-x @peterr-parrkerr @sbiderslut @dollmeatpie (whose writing this was inspired by) @starkeroverload @thefaultinourstarker @cagestark @starkeris-infinity-worried @im-a-goner-foryou

#starker #peter parker x tony stark #tony stark #peter x tony #peter parker #nff #crossroads demon!tony #dark!peter #spooky starker #tw: dubious consent #tw: dubcon #tw: murder #tw: assault #starcrossedtalks

490 notes · View notes

athenagc94 · 3 years

Text

Portia’s Customs

Another little snippet from Gust of the Heart. Gust leaves her an unexpected gift in her mailbox one morning after a night of drinking. This is the ‘confession’ from Piper’s POV.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Piper groaned and massaged her temples as she made her way back towards her workshop. That workshop inspection was particularly tedious and she definitely regretted last night ー in so many ways. She never drank that much and now she remembered why. The pounding in her head refused to go away no matter how much water she drank and the sun burned a little too bright for her liking. She blamed Sam and her need to make everything a competition.

How was she supposed to do her job while the world spun around her like a merry-go-round?

She noted the flag standing upright on her mailbox as she approached and fought the urge to cringe. She hoped it wasn’t all commission requests, otherwise she might curl up right there and cry. Her list of outstanding commissions was already so long. How was she supposed to keep up with the demand. She flipped open the lid of the box and pulled out the stack of mail inside. Her heart sank as she shuffled through the various envelopes.

A message from the research center ー Petra finally found something in the stack of data discs she submitted earlier that week. Perfect. Hopefully it would be something useful. If she had to keep using her rudimentary skiver that broke every other day, she was going to scream. Another message from Carol ー she was asking for an update on her broken sewing machine. That was top of her list, right there. Not the whole issue with this mysterious Rogue Knight and his hidden agenda. She was definitely more concerned about Carol and her fucking sewing machine. Albert and the Mayor had a few commission requests for her. Nothing dire, just busy work from the looks of it, but she often wondered if they were just throwing things at her for the sake of keeping her out of their hair.

The last envelope in the stack was larger than the others and pale blue in color. She flipped it over in her hands and felt the contents shift inside. She furrowed her brow. Strange, she didn’t remember ordering anything and she had no outstanding requests with the Civil Corps.

She ripped it open and peered inside.

A bracelet of intricately woven string sat at the bottom of the envelope. She pulled it out and regarded it with a curious tilt of her head. It was fashioned in the shape of a heart, red and adorned with tiny gold beads. She knew Alice sold these at her shop, but she never bothered to ask what they were for. She just assumed they were just another trinket she sold to scrounge up a few extra gols. Who would bother to get her something silly like this?

She stuffed the knotted heart into her pocket and fished out the note that accompanied the charm.

Piper - You should finish your work early and meet me at the Church of Light after sunset this evening. There’s something I’d like to discuss with you. -Gust

Her heart skipped a beat. She recalled the previous night. She tested the waters with that skirt that she borrowed it from Sonia. She just wanted to see if he'd notice something as trivial as a shorter skirt. And he definitely noticed. His eyes traced the curve of her ass anytime he thought she wasn’t looking, but she was always looking. That had to mean something. Then when they piled into the booth at the Round Table, Gust’s thigh pressed flat against her despite having plenty of room to spread out. Another sign that it wasn’t just her, right?

So, she went for it and brought up the brooch when they made it back to the workshop that evening.

It had been one of those rare moments of vulnerability with him. She knocked down a few more of those rough steel walls that kept everyone at bay and he felt comfortable opening up to her. It seemed like the perfect opportunity to open up in kind. She traced the curve of her jaw, where his fingers had left a burning trail the night prior. The area where his lips had brushed her forehead still buzzed with an electric energy. It was so soft, she doubted he'd done it at all, but she swore he did. She practically confessed to having a crush on him, but he didn’t say anything about it. Or had he? The charm in her pocket grew heavier the longer she considered it. Wait. Was he trying to…?

She stuffed the envelopes back into her mailbox and headed straight back to town. She needed answers and she needed them now.

♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢

Piper stormed through the doors of the Civil Corps building and threw the heart knot onto the table in front of Sam and her breakfast. She peered between it and her, unimpressed, then returned to shoveling eggs into her mouth. “I’m flattered,” she mumbled as she shoved another spoonful into her mouth, “but Phyllis is way prettier than you and she’s going to be a doctor. You don’t even hold a candle.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Gee, thanks for that vote of confidence. But it’s not for you. I found this in my mailbox this morning,” she said with a nod towards the charm, “along with a note from Gust asking me to meet him at the Church of Light this evening.”

Sam choked on her next bite. She doubled over in her seat, red in the face and struggling to catch her breath. “You,” she heaved a deep breath and pointed to the knot, “you said you got that from Gust?”

“Yeah?” she said slowly, “so I’m guessing this stupid trinket means something then?”

“Oh shit.” Sam hissed and pushed her plate aside, “That’s right, you wouldn’t understand what this means, would you?” Piper tried to ignore the panic churning in her stomach. She had an idea what it meant. It was a heart-shaped bracelet for Light’s sake. How could she not have a guess? But she wanted to know for sure. Before she did something she might regret later.

Sam swallowed hard. “The heart knot is used in Portia to express their feelings for someone,” she explained with a swipe of her hand, “Gust just admitted he had feelings for you.”

Piper closed her eyes and took a deep, slow breath. Fuck. “Through a letter?”

“Through a fucking letter.” The chair creaked as Sam settled back in her seat. “I knew the guy was hopeless, but I didn’t know he was this bad at talking about his feelings.” She drummed her fingers thoughtfully along the table as she considered something. “Maybe he didn’t want to chicken out at the church tonight?” she offered after a moment, “you can’t really take back a heart knot once it's given?”

Piper sank into the chair opposite her. Her mind raced faster than a long range bus. She combed her fingers through her hair and tugged until tears formed at the corner of her eyes. There were customs when it came to this shit in Portia? How was she supposed to know that? She never really showed an interest in anyone in town and no one said anything to her before now. Did she have to give him a heart knot in return? Would it be rude if she didn’t? Fuck.

She slammed her hands flat on the table and said, “I need to go.”

Sam straightened in her seat as Piper stood and made a beeline for the door. “Do you want me to talk to him for you?” She cracked her knuckles to emphasize her point. “I can teach that pretty boy a lesson. The lecture from Arlo will be worth it.”

“No.” She took another slow breath to calm her fraying nerves. She had so much to do before sunset. Did Carol sell blue string? She had never tied knots before. Light, this was going to be a mess. Gust was going to hate it. “No,” she said again a little more firmly, “it’s fine. I’m fine. We’re fine. I’ll talk to him later at the church. Don’t do anything to him.”

“Butー”

“I’ve got it handled, just…” She trailed off and sifted through the contents of her messenger bag. Maybe she should just buy a knot from Alice? Her expression hardened. No. She didn’t want rumors to start flying, because rumors would start flying if she bought something like that in the middle of town. The citizens of Portia didn’t know how to keep their noses out of other people’s business. She’d just make one of these stupid knots herself.

“Just let it be,” she snapped as she shoved through the doors of the Civil Corps, “Everything will be fine.”

Or at least, that’s what she hoped.

#my time at portia #mtap #mtap sam #mtap gust #mtap builder

12 notes · View notes

averykedavra · 4 years

Text

Leave No Trace (Chap. 3)

[Masterlist] [Ao3]

Supper that night was salad and bread, eaten with wooden forks. The metal dishes had been taken, so they used china plates and bowls instead. Patton didn't understand why dragons only took iron objects. But he did understand, now, how they could have stolen such small objects. They'd just have to fly in, turn into humans when no one was looking, and take the dishes. A lot of things made sense now that he knew a little more about dragons.

It was a quiet supper. Virgil and Patton briefly told them about the visit to the library, but since Patton didn't want to tell his moms about Janus—he had the feeling they might not be too thrilled about it—there wasn't much else to say. Patton munched on salad and ignored Virgil's occasional piercing looks. He expected his moms to comment on the silence, but they also stared at their salad and didn't talk.

Finally Mama looked at Mom and they had a silent conversation. Mom put down her fork.

"Boys…" Mama placed her hands on the table. "There's something we need to tell you."

Virgil's hand jerked and he almost spilled salad onto the table. "What?"

Usually Mom would say 'Nothing bad, I promise.' This time she only squeezed his hand.

Virgil glanced between them, looking more and more nervous. Patton took Virgil's other hand.

"We were at the town meeting today," Mama began, drawing out each word. "Everyone's accounted for, except…"

Patton forgot how to breathe. Virgil's grip on his hand was painful. Blood pounded in his ears. He stared at his moms, trying to spy any inkling of hope, see anything that told him something that wasn't what he thought they were saying.

"Except what?" Patton asked, trying to smile. "Finish your sentences!"

"They're gone," Virgil whispered, eyes wide. "Aren't they?"

Something in Mom's expression broke, and something in Mama's eyes softened.

"No one has seen Logan or Remus since the raid."

Virgil made a little choked noise.

"That doesn't mean they're not alive," Mom hastily added. "Just that they haven't been found."

"Runa."

Mom glanced at Mama. "And…well, there have been some witnesses. It seems most likely that they've, well, been taken. By the dragons."

"What?" Patton hated the way his voice cracked. "Dragons��do that?"

"Sometimes," Mama answered. "Nobody knows why."

Virgil shook his head numbly. "They're gone?"

"Hey," Patton whispered, "they're not gone. They're okay."

"'Okay?' You call kidnapped by dragons 'okay?'" Virgil's eyes were wild. "They're probably getting eaten or something!"

Patton flinched. "Kiddo—"

"Sorry," Virgil muttered.

"They're alive," Patton amended, running his thumb over Virgil's palm. "That's better than nothing."

Virgil glared at nothing in particular. "Is anyone going after them?"

"We don't have enough willing citizens for a rescue mission," Mom murmured. "It's not safe enough for anyone to risk it. I'm sorry."

"See?" Virgil spat. "They're not dead, but they're as good as." He pulled his hand out of Patton's. "Just when I think I've got something dragons can't destroy, boom! They burn it to the damn ground."

"Virgil—"

"Forget it." Virgil kicked his chair out and stood up. "I'm—I'm going to my room, Pat. Talk to you later."

Patton opened his mouth to say something, something that would fix this. Virgil was gone before he could. His footsteps rang loud on the stairs.

"Patton," Mama started.

Patton didn't wait around to hear the rest of that sentence. Or worse, a question he couldn't help but answer. Quickly he shoveled down the rest of his salad, tossed the dishes in the sink, and sped upstairs with an "I'm tired, gonna take a nap!" Nobody followed.

Virgil's door was closed. Patton knocked on it. Nobody answered.

"I'll be here," Patton said into the keyhole. "If you need me."

He didn't sleep that night, staring at the hole in his ceiling, straining for any sign of movement from Virgil. On other nights Virgil might have knocked on his door, small and scared, and they'd end up cuddling or telling stories or playing games until Virgil felt better. Tonight there was nothing. Just a hot night filled with bugs that bit at Patton's arms.

When he finally fell asleep, his dreams were filled with dragons and fires and burning scales.

A few times he woke up, heart pounding, watching that hole like he expected to see flames lighting up the sky. Or the door, like he selfishly wished Virgil or his moms would come check on him.

But there were no fires and no Virgil. Just Patton, trying his very best to sleep.

Virgil didn't talk to Patton for a day. Patton tried not to take it personally, but it did sting. Virgil just needed time, Patton knew that. He'd be okay. They'd be okay.

And sure enough, the next day, Virgil smiled at Patton over breakfast eggs and helped him with chores. He still didn't say much, but Patton understood.

They fixed the hole in the roof, with the help of the Acevedos down the road. They ordered new plates and cutlery and tools in the mail, hoping it would come back from the city as soon as possible. Patton volunteered with some rebuilding projects and Virgil helped distribute food. Mom and Mama spent a lot of time with the town council, talking through how they could bounce back from this. It wasn't even close to perfect, but somehow Patton found his balance, mostly by focusing on what he could do and not what he couldn't. He focused on helping everyone around him, ignoring the two people he couldn't.

Roman was released from the library a few days later. It was evening, the sun setting in the distance. The library was closed to visitors. Virgil pulled Patton away from where he was grabbing eggs from the chickens and they ran to the library door. Patton had to stop himself from hugging the life out of Roman—he was still injured—and settled for a wave and a huge smile.

"Careful," Virgil said, grabbing Roman's arm and helping him down the steps.

Roman huffed. "You know, I didn't hurt either of my legs. I can walk just fine."

Virgil didn't let go. Roman's expression softened and he slipped his hand into Virgil's. Virgil looked marginally comforted. Patton skipped alongside them, looking over Roman. He was a little pale and his entire shoulder was covered in bandages, but his smile was almost as bright as ever.

"You're an idiot," Virgil mumbled, helping Roman navigate a patch of uneven stone.

"Am I now?" Roman asked, watching the sun set between the buildings.

"Yes!" Virgil snapped. "Roman, you could have gotten yourself killed!"

Roman winced. "Okay. Right out the gate, then."

"Virgil?" Patton asked, sensing trouble. "Maybe we save this until Roman's, you know, home? Maybe even wait until he's healed?"

Virgil glared at Roman. "If he's well enough to walk, he's well enough to let me yell at him."

"Don't bother, Padre," Roman said, giving a half-hearted grin. "I knew this was coming."

"You're an idiot!" Virgil repeated, throwing up his hands in the air. "I hate you so much! What were you thinking? You should have waited somewhere safe instead of throwing yourself into a fight like the reckless fool you are! Don't you have any sense of self-preservation?"

"The dragon would have killed those people!" Roman fired back weakly.

"The dragon almost killed you!" Virgil looked exasperated. "What, is your life worth less than those people? You did absolutely nothing but get yourself injured for some pursuit of glory!"

"This is not about 'glory,'" Roman argued. "It was about doing what's right."

"Yeah, because it's 'right' to throw yourself into dangerous situations—"

"Kiddos," Patton interrupted, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Um, we really shouldn't be arguing right now—"

"I don't need your judgment!" Roman snapped, ignoring Patton entirely. "It's my life and I can make my own decisions! This is none of your business and it doesn't affect you!"

"Yes, it does!" Virgil threw out a hand. "We had to save you! Patton—"

"Please leave me out of this," Patton pleaded.

"Patton had to get you to safety! Patton attacked a dragon for you, Roman! And thanks to you and your stupidity, Remus and Logan were—"

Roman's eyes hardened. "So it's my fault that my brother and friend were kidnapped."

Virgil froze. "I—Roman, I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have—"

"It's fine." Roman snatched his hand out of Virgil's and stalked down the road. "I get it."

"Roman!" Virgil called, running after him. "I—I didn't mean that, it just slipped out, of course it's not your fault—"

"I get it!" Roman yelled. "Just stop talking! I'm going to fix it!"

"Wait, you—" Virgil stopped. "Wait, 'fix it?'"

"Fix it," Roman repeated. "I'll find them and I'll fix it."

"Find them?" Virgil blinked. "Wait—Roman, no way!"

"You just said it was my fault!" Roman said hysterically. "It makes sense!"

"But you can't just—" Virgil stepped closer to Roman, his face filled with incredulousness. "What, do you think you'll just stroll through the Iron Woods and knock on the dragons' door? You can't do that!"

"Has anyone ever tried?" Roman pointed out.

"You don't need to try drinking poison to know it'll freaking kill you!"

"Virgil." Roman's voice cracked. "Virgil, I need to do something."

"No, you don't," Virgil said. "No, you don't. You're hurt and you need to heal and you can't put yourself in danger for this."

"I—I have to!" Roman swiped at his eyes. "Virge, he's gone, they're both gone and I—"

"I know. Believe me, I know. But you can't—you're not hunting them down. I won't let you do that." Virgil sighed. "Roman, can I hug you?"

Roman nodded.

Virgil stepped forward and carefully wrapped his arms around Roman's middle, tucking his head on Roman's good shoulder. Roman lifted one arm and curled it around Virgil's shoulders, burying his face in Virgil's hair.

The sun was going down. The shadows lengthened around them. At the end of the road, the lantern lighter sent a burst of fire into the air. Half the lanterns had been taken, ripped from the ground. Nearby was a burned building, blackened and twisted.

"I hate this," Roman mumbled. "Not being able to help."

"Yeah," Virgil agreed.

Patton watched them, the sunset sending deep orange over their faces, still and silent on the cobblestone road.

Roman couldn't save them, he knew that. But if he didn't…who would?

"I'll do it."

Virgil frowned, peering over at Patton. "Do what, Pat?"

"I'll rescue them," Patton said, stepping forward.

"You're joking." Roman laughed. "You're joking, Padre."

"No, I'm not." Patton crossed his arms. "You're hurt but I'm not. It makes sense."

"It doesn't!" Virgil stared at him in disbelief. "Seriously, Pat, what? We were just saying how we can't go and rescue them—"

"You were saying how Roman can't go and rescue them." Patton's heart pounded, but he had never been more certain of anything in his life. "I can still do it."

"There are a million reasons why—" Virgil pushed himself out of Roman's arms and stalked forward, glowering. "Our moms would be mad."

"They'd understand!"

"No, they wouldn't! Because nobody would! Because you're being stupid!" Virgil threw up his hands. "Roman, back me up here!"

"I—" Roman glanced between them. "I think both arguments have…good points?"

"Thanks a lot," Virgil growled.

"I don't see what the problem is," Patton insisted. "I'll go to the Iron Woods, get Logan and Remus back from the dragons, and be back soon!"

"What do you mean you'll just get them back?" Virgil yelled. "Are you just going to ask politely?"

"Maybe?" Patton squeaked. "Nobody's actually tried diplomacy yet!"

"That's because they're dragons!" Virgil waved a hand at the burned buildings nearby. "This happened three days ago, Patton, and you're acting like you can just waltz into their home base and get our friends back?"

"No," Patton admitted. "But—I want to try."

"Pat." Virgil's eyes softened. "I get it. I really do. But I don't want you to get hurt."

"I won't get hurt," Patton protested.

"How do you know that?" Virgil huffed. "Dragons, Patton. Big with sharp teeth and fire."

Patton shrugged. "I dunno, Janus seemed okay."

"One dragon who didn't immediately murder you does not mean all the rest won't!" Virgil laughed hysterically, running his fingers through his hair. "Roman, back me up here!"

Roman looked over from where he was apparently trying to hide himself in the shadows. "Um, no opinion here, carry on with your arguing, preferably keeping me very far out of this."

"Coward," Virgil snapped.

"What do you want me to say?" Roman burst out. "Because, yes, I don't want Patton to get hurt! I think him going is a terrible idea! But you wouldn't let me go, and I don't see anyone else stepping up! I care about Patton, but I care about my brother too! And I know it's a stupid idea that will just get Patton killed…but—" Roman shook his head. "Virgil, there's a chance that it'll work. An actual chance." Roman wiped at his eyes. "And it terrifies me how much I'm willing to risk for that chance."

Virgil's expression was unreadable. "A small chance."

"A tiny chance," Roman agreed, his voice small. "But a chance, Virge."

"Yeah." Virgil swallowed, staring at his feet. "I get that."

"I won't get hurt," Patton promised. "I'll be careful. I'll bring supplies and if anything bad happens I'll turn around. Dragons don't kill people unprovoked, right? We're just collateral damage."

Virgil looked torn. "I dunno, I think sometimes—"

"They won't kill me." Patton spoke with all the conviction he didn't feel. "I can figure out why they want Logan and Remus and I can make some sort of deal with them, maybe? Or even find out why they need all that metal!"

"Fine," Virgil said grudgingly, "let's assume that by some miracle the dragons accept you as one of their own and bow before your wisdom. What about the Iron Woods?"

"Those don't actually exist, right?" Roman asked. "They're just a legend."

Virgil raised an eyebrow. "You say this in front of someone who's part faerie."

"I know, I know!" Roman held up his hands. "I'm not saying the fair folk aren't real. I'm just saying there's no evidence the Iron Woods actually are where everyone says they are."

"That's true," Virgil admitted. "But just because nobody's seen them doesn't mean they're not there!"

Roman laughed. "Don't tell Logan that, he'd get mad."

Virgil didn't laugh. Patton pressed his lips together and ignored the ugly twist in his stomach.

"But if the Fae are actually there," Roman said, "you're right. That would be a problem."

"Did you just admit I'm right? Never thought I'd see the day."

"Don't let yourself get a big head."

"Okay," Patton said, stepping between them. "I…I have an idea."

He didn't, actually. He had the start of a terrible idea that probably wouldn't work and that Virgil definitely wouldn't like. But it was a start. It was a start.

Patton knew he wasn't going to turn back. He was going to save Remus and Logan. He was going to fight on Roman's behalf. He was going to help people, because that's what Patton did. Helped and never hurt. And if he wasn't helping, he was hurting. He was going to help because it was the right thing to do.

"Hear me out," Patton said. "I'll explore some options and if it's not working, we won't do this. But I want to check out a few possibilities? If that's okay?"

"I guess," Virgil said, side-eyeing Roman. "Yeah?"

"I…" Roman winced. "I'd really like to, but I haven't been home for three days?"

"Oh!" Patton gasped. "Right! Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry!"

"It's fine." Roman waved a hand. "Actually, now that I think about it, let's do this."

"Really?" Virgil asked.

Roman winced and looked away. "My parents are…not doing very well right now."

Patton's eyes widened and he resisted the urge to glomp Roman in a hug. Roman was injured. Patton couldn't just tackle-hug him, even though he clearly really needed a tackle-hug.

"I love you," Patton said instead.

"Uh, yeah!" Roman looked confused but gratified. "Love you too, Pat!"

"Great." Patton tapped his fingers together. "And you'd love me no matter what I said we were doing, right?"

"What are we doing?" Virgil asked, looking more and more alarmed.

"Nothing that bad!" Patton said hastily. "Just…kind of not-good. By my standards, anyway."

"Yeah?" Roman looked sort of excited. "Okay!"

Patton took a deep breath.

"Help me break into the library."

It wasn't actually breaking in. It wasn't actually breaking in. It wasn't actually breaking in.

Patton recited that to himself over and over as they snuck in the back door of the library.

It was dark inside. Virgil immediately tripped and swore loudly. Patton tried to shush him while simultaneously reaching for a wall. Eventually his eyes adjusted to the dimness and he saw the shapes of the back passageway, a few boxes of books by the wall.

"Where do we go?" Roman asked.

"Shh!" Patton said again.

"I think it's this way?" Virgil said, pointing.

"I can't see where you're pointing," Roman complained. "It's dark."

"Shh!"

Virgil led the way to the rotunda, slipping through the halls and creeping around corners. Patton followed, tripping over his own feet and stumbling into boxes. Even Roman was more stealthy than him, and Roman had a wounded arm.

They stopped at the rotunda. Despite the lateness of the hour, doctors and nurses still bustled around, the candlelight throwing splashes of orange over their faces. Shadows lurked between the bookshelves, pooled across the floor, and hung from the ceiling.

"What now?" Patton asked as quietly as possible.

"Wasn't this your idea?" Virgil hissed. "I don't even know why we're here! Well, I mean, I've kind of figured it out but it better not be what I think it is."

Patton giggled. "Ah-heh, um, okay then. Right."

"They won't be able to see us in the dark," Roman pointed out. "If you're planning to walk out there, act like you belong and it'll probably be fine."

Patton was starting to regret this plan. He should have at least waited until the library opened in the morning.

"Come on," Roman said, shoving them into the rotunda. "No turning back now."

Patton squeaked and tried to look natural.

"Oh, you're coming too!" Virgil grabbed Roman's arm and tugged him forward. "No getting out of this."

Roman kicked Virgil in the knee, and Virgil swore at him. Patton frantically tried to quiet them. The nurse nearest to them slowed, her candle swinging around to face them.

"Walk," Roman whispered. "Now."

So Patton, Virgil, and Roman walked down the aisle between hospital beds. Patton tiptoed on his feet and tried to look taller than five foot three. Roman drew up his chin and Virgil tapped manically on his leg.

"So where are we going?" Roman whispered.

Patton braced himself for the explosion. "Um, we're visiting Janus?"

"I knew it." Virgil's voice was strangled. "I knew it."

"Wait, what?" Roman asked. "Who?"

"Janus," Virgil repeated. "Aka the dragon who, you know, attacked you."

"What?" Roman yelled.

A dozen candles swiveled in their direction.

Virgil swore and tugged them both into a gap between shelves, slapping his hand over Roman's mouth. Patton held his breath and prayed for the people to look away. He couldn't see whether they were looking at them, but that was a good sign because maybe they couldn't see him, either.

Finally Patton breathed a sigh of relief as nobody came over to check on them. Crime-committing was very stressful. He was never doing this again.

"What," Roman repeated calmly.

"What?" Patton asked.

"You know his name?" Roman asked.

"Yes."

"You talked to him?"

"Yes."

"Okay." Roman clicked his tongue. "I don't know how I feel about that."

"Me either," Patton admitted.

"Look." Virgil pushed himself off the shelf. "This is a terrible idea, but we're already in the library, so let's just get this over with."

"Okay." Patton said. "Where is he?"

"You're the one who talked to him!"

"Um." Patton scanned the beds. "I think he was that direction? Wait, where'd we come in from again?"

"Come on." Virgil groaned. "Pat, I love you, but this was a terrible idea."

"Sorry."

"Well, the entrance is over there," Roman said, pointing. "And my bed was there. Does that help?"

Patton stuck his tongue between his teeth and pointed at the different spots. "Okay, so if I—it was like, diagonal—got it!" Patton clapped his hands. "It's across that way!"

"You sure?" Virgil asked.

"Paw-sitive!"

"Alright then." Virgil led them across the floor, dipping around beds and avoiding as many people as possible. "This way?"

"Little more to the left!"

"There's a bed in the way to the left!"

"Not that far left!"

Virgil sighed and kept walking. Patton directed him as needed and soon they came to a group of beds near the wall. Patton scanned the people around them. Most were asleep. None of them were Janus.

"What does Janus look like?" Roman asked.

"Long brown hair," Patton said. "Yellow eyes. A giant burn on his face."

"What?"

"Long story."

"Um, okay." Roman looked around. "Is that him?"

Patton looked over. Yep. It was Janus, lying on his side with his hand tucked under his head. He was—oh. He was staring right at them, his eyes glittering in the candlelight.

"Um," Patton whispered. "Can dragons see in the dark?"

"What—" Virgil looked at Janus. "Oh no."

"He won't hurt us," Patton said, trying to convince himself. "He's still hurt."

"That may be," Roman said, "but I am really regretting not bringing my sword."

Janus' shoulders tensed.

Patton glanced at Roman. "I think he heard you."

"He'd better," Virgil muttered. "I don't like this, Pat. I don't."

"He's a dragon!" Patton whispered. "If anyone can tell us what dragons are like and how to get Logan and Remus back, it's him!"

"That's—" Roman paused. "Hey, that's actually a good point."

Virgil growled. "I hate that you're right. Fine, we'll try it your way. Let's talk to him."

Patton stepped around a bed and walked towards Janus, waving hello. Janus' eyes narrowed and he pushed himself off the bed so that his legs swung around to the floor.

"Are you supposed to do that?" Patton asked.

Janus snorted. "Yes, because my facial injury renders me incapable of movement."

It was true that his face looked better. Not great, but better. The bandages were smaller and the skin around the burn was starting to heal. It would leave a scar, Patton could tell, but it hopefully wouldn't leave any long-term damage.

"Okay, so hi." Patton waved again. "We need to talk to you!"

"We." Janus' eyes skimmed over Virgil and Roman. "Who is we?"

"This is Virgil, and this is Roman!" Patton pointed to Virgil. "He's my best friend and favorite human!"

Virgil winced slightly.

"And Roman's my other best friend and other favorite human!" Patton continued. "So what happened is two of my other best friends and favorite humans got kidnapped!"

Janus watched him warily. "You are ruining the meaning of the terms 'favorite' and 'best'."

"Well, I have a lot of friends!" Patton gasped. "Oh! You can be my favorite dragon!"

Somehow Janus' suspicious and contemptuous glare grew even more suspicious and contemptuous.

"So our friends got kidnapped," Patton continued, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "By some of your dragon friends? And—"

"Death or ransom?"

"What?"

"You either want to kill me or use me as a bargaining tool," Janus explained. "Which is it?"

"Neither! No!" Patton stared at him in horror. "What? That's terrible!"

"It is, but I suppose you wouldn't care about my opinion on the matter." Janus spread his hands. "Death or kidnapping? I understand if you need time to choose."

"We're not doing either of those!" Patton insisted.

"I dunno…" Virgil smirked. "I think both ideas have merit, we could just—"

"Virgil!" Patton exclaimed.

"I'm just saying it would solve our problem—"

Patton opened his mouth to firmly tell Virgil that murder or kidnapping was not the solution here, two wrongs did not make a right, when Janus stood up, chucked a candle at them, and bolted.

Oh. Oops.

"Virgil," Patton said tightly. "He's running away now."

"I was joking!" Virgil protested. "I thought it was obvious!"

"Clearly not to him," Roman said, watching Janus leap over several beds and disappear through the front door. A few doctors and nurses yelled at him but he didn't turn around.

"Great," Patton said. Okay, that was too bitter. He injected a bunch of bounce into his words and ran forward. "Fantastic! Wonderful! Let's go!"

Roman and Virgil followed. Doctors and nurses were staring at them, a few stepping forward to ask them questions.

"Sorry!" Patton called. "We committed a crime and we're very sorry! Goodbye!"

Virgil made a choked noise that could have been laughter or tears.

Roman reached the doors first and slammed them open. Virgil and Patton followed, darting around the passageway to the atrium. The man at the desk was asleep, drooling on the wood. The library doors swung in the wind. It was even darker outside than Patton remembered—he tripped twice on the way down the steps.

"Where—" Virgil panted, hands on his knees. "Where'd he go?"

"There!" Roman pointed. A small figure was running down the road. Patton ran forward, cupping his hands around his mouth and calling Janus' name. Janus didn't slow down.

"We're not going to hurt you!" Patton yelled. "I promise!"

Janus seemed to run even faster.

"Come on!" Roman complained. "You're our best shot at finding my brother and you're running away, which is very rude! I'll have you know I'm injured!"

"Not helping, Princey."

"I didn't ask for your opinion."

"Please!" Patton yelled. He was running out of breath. "Can we please talk?"

Janus finally, finally slowed down. Patton could see his silhouette as he stumbled to a stop, the last dying embers of sunlight behind him, feet planted squarely on the pavement.

Then he doubled over and his shadow lengthened.

Two wings burst out of his back, stretching into the air. They flapped once, the webbing catching the air, taller than Patton. When Patton looked back down at Janus he was gone, replaced by four strong legs and a tail curled around them. Two horns accentuated the bridge over his eyes, which glowed yellow in the lanternlight.

"Oh no," Patton whispered. "Oh no."

"He's gonna freak everyone out," Virgil added, eyes wide, his hands already shaking. "Everyone's gonna be terrified, this is really bad—"

Janus—well, the dragon, the dragon that was Janus, although it was hard to hold onto that when Patton was faced with two glowing yellow eyes and a pattern of burns over the scales—flapped his wings again, pushing off the pavement. He didn't get far. The street was narrow and his wings couldn't stretch all the way. He stumbled back to the ground, hissing at them.

"He can't take off," Patton realized.

Janus hissed again, louder, and a wisp of fire spat towards them. But it fizzled out before it reached them. Patton had a feeling that was on purpose.

"What do we do?" Roman yelled, waving his hand helplessly.

"I don't know!" Virgil said, looking equally helpless and even more terrified.

Janus lowered himself on his haunches, tail bristling, wings folded around him. His teeth were bared. He growled low in his throat, rattling Patton's bones.

But he wasn't attacking. He was just…preparing. He just wanted to defend himself.

He was scared.

Patton gathered all his courage and hoped Fae luck had his back.

He held up his hands and slowly walked forward.

"Hey," Patton said, "Janus. I get it. This is probably super overwhelming right now and it totally makes sense that you want to leave! But you can't right now. You're still injured, you can't take off from here, and we need your help."

"What are you doing?" Virgil hissed.

Patton gave Virgil a cheerful wave and continued walking, keeping his pace steady. On the first few steps Janus tensed, shrinking backwards, but he soon stopped, eyeing Patton warily.

"Our friends got taken," Patton continued, "and I'm going to go rescue them. But I don't really, well, know what I'm doing. At all. So…I figured I could ask you for help! You're a dragon, and I'm assuming those dragons are your family? You can help us, and—" An idea came to Patton. "We can help you get back to your family! I bet you miss them, and I bet they miss you. So we can find a good place for you to take off after you help! Would that make you feel better?"

Janus growled one more time and flapped his wings.

Then they shrank into his body, his tail whipped into thin air, the spines and ridges flattened, and Janus stood there, bandages still on his face, arms folded.

"You don't know a thing about me or how I feel," Janus said mildly, "and if you speak to me in that condescending tone again, I will rip your throat out."

"Oh." Patton's relief faltered slightly. "Oh! Okay! Glad you, um, changed back to human! That's really helpful and will probably lead to less town-wide freaking out!"

"It was mainly to insult you," Janus explained. "Also to leave this town by foot, since apparently you humans build all your houses too close together."

"Sorry, we didn't really plan on, y'know, dragons needing to take off." Patton shifted. "So…will you help?"

Janus stared at him. "I have absolutely nothing to gain from helping you. I can get to the dragons on my own and you're mounting an attack against my people. Why on earth would I help?"

"Because it's…it would be really nice of you?"

Janus sighed so deeply that flames licked the edges of his mouth before curling and disappearing into the air with a hiss.

Roman and Virgil approached on either side of Patton, flanking him. Patton really wished they wouldn't, it made them seem too confrontational for his tastes.

"You're not really in a position to bargain," Virgil pointed out.

"Hey!" Patton complained. "No threatening!"

"Well, clearly being nice to him isn't working!" Virgil shrugged. "Take it from a jerk: we'll only do stuff if we're forced to."

"Kiddo, don't talk bad about yourself! And Janus may be a jerk—sorry, Janus—but that doesn't mean we can't treat him with respect!"

"He can't fly."

Patton and Virgil both turned to look at Roman. "What?" Patton asked.

"You could have left," Roman said, staring at Janus. "You weren't supposed to be on the ground with us at all, were you? You could have flown away and you didn't. You can't fly, can you? At least, not very far."

"I can fly," Janus snarled.

"Are you hurt?" Patton tried to inspect him. "Injuries carry over, right? Is it an arm injury? Wait, what corresponds to your wings? Is it—"

"I can fly!" Janus snapped. "It's none of your business!"

"Sure," Virgil said, "you being really defensive about it definitely doesn't lead to the other conclusion."

"If you say so. You can fly," Patton agreed. "But, hypothetically. If you couldn't. Would you appreciate…coming with me? I could use your help on the journey and you could use a way back to your family. We could work together!"

Janus stared at him, eyes narrowed. "I am not desperate enough to spend any extended amount of time with you."

Patton shrugged. "Your loss! I'm just trying to help!"

"I'm coming too," Virgil added. "Don't know if that'll change your mind, but best to be honest about everything."

"Wait." Patton frowned. "Who said you were coming?"

"Hey, yeah!" Roman rounded on Virgil. "We did not agree on that!"

"What, you think I'm just gonna let Pat go alone?" Virgil asked. "I'm coming to help! He'll be in danger!"

"I won't be alone," Patton said. "I'll have Janus."

Virgil glanced at Janus with distaste. "Like I said, you'll be in danger."

"Rude," Janus said, inspecting his fingernails.

"I'm going," Virgil continued. "I want to protect you. You don't know how to fight, I do. I have a crossbow."

"You'll get hurt!" Patton protested.

"And if I don't go, you'll get hurt." Virgil crossed his arms. "Prove me wrong."

A million arguments bubbled up, crowding on the edge of Patton's tongue. They all boiled down to no. Virgil wasn't supposed to be in danger. He wasn't supposed to risk everything for Patton. Patton was the one that helped! He didn't need help! Virgil was going to get himself hurt!

But…but Virgil wanted to. And it was Virgil's choice.

And maybe, just maybe, Patton wanted Virgil by his side.

"Okay." Patton stared at the ground and ignored the guilty feeling in his chest. "Okay. You can come if you want."

"Wait, really?" Virgil gave a half-delirious laugh. "That was easier than I thought."

"Wait," Roman said, frowning. "How come he gets to go and I don't? If Virgil's going, then I'm coming too."

"Okay, that's where I draw the line." Patton poked a finger at Roman. "You are injured. You need to go home and rest."

"I'll be fine, I—"

"Do you want your parents to lose another son?"

Roman froze.

"Do you want that?" Patton repeated softly. "I don't think doing that to them would be a very nice thing, Ro."

Roman opened his mouth to respond and closed it again, sinking and rubbing his eyes. "I. I guess not."

"Right," Patton said firmly, giving Roman a bracing smile. "We'll be okay on our own, Roman. I promise."

"Don't make promises you can't keep," Roman teased.

"Who says I can't keep it?" Patton laughed. "Watch me, Roman."

"Alright then." Roman reached out and ruffled Patton's hair. "Never underestimate your amazingness. Got it."

"You should go home," Patton said, taking Roman's hand and gently shoving it away. "Your parents will want to see you."

"I guess," Roman said, glancing at Janus. "Shame to miss all the action, though."

"You're injured."

"Fine." Roman gave Patton a smile. "Stay safe, Patton. And…thank you. I can't even begin to say how much this means to me."

Patton beamed, feeling happiness spark inside of him. Definitely worth it.

"I'll take care of him, don't worry." Virgil stepped forward and gave Roman a quick, one-armed hug. "Hang in there, Princey."

"Will do."

Patton waved goodbye, and Roman took the hint. He walked down the road towards his house, turning back every few seconds and waving again. Finally he turned the corner and was out of sight. Patton almost sunk to the ground in relief. He'd been petrified Roman would make a last-ditch attempt to throw himself into the line of fire. Thankfully, the crisis was averted.

"Um, pardon me." Janus looked between Patton and Virgil. "This is very heartwarming and all, but I've been standing here for the past minute or so and I'm getting quite bored. Am I still relevant or can I leave?"

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" Patton turned to him, smiling. "We were just figuring out our party. Now that Virgil's along for the ride, officially, we can keep going! If you come with us, it'll be a nice threesome! All three of us together! Like buddies! Three's a nice number, don't you think? Not a crowd at all! The Rule of Three says we'll kick more butt if there's three of us."

Janus glanced at Virgil. "Is he always this bad at negotiating?"

"Janus." Patton stepped forward, holding out a hand. "I need your help. We need your help. And we can help you in return. You seem…alright. If somewhat mean. And I know you hurt Roman and I'm still very mad at you for that, and I know I hurt you and you're probably mad at me for that burn, which is fair, but—"

"Hold on. Time out." Janus' eyes hardened. "You did what?"

Fiddlesticks.

He didn't actually remember.

And of course, of course he phrased it as a question, so Patton would have to answer.

"I…um…" Patton waved a hand at the side of Janus' face and waited for death. "I did that?"

"Alright." Janus' jaw was clenched. "Glad we got that cleared up. Continue."

"Oh!" Patton tried not to look too relieved. "I don't have much else to say, really. Just that we'll get you to your family, and that we promise not to hurt you or any of the other dragons! We just want our friends back and we'll be on our way."

"Mhm." Janus nodded slowly. "Because I can absolutely trust your word, Patton Foster."

"You remembered my name?"

"You're a memorable person."

Patton was pretty sure that was some sort of layered insult, but still, awesome! "You can trust me! I can't lie, so you're safe!"

Janus frowned. "What do you mean, you 'can't lie?'"

"I'm part Fae," Patton explained, "so it's physically impossible for me to lie."

"Really?"

"Yes."

Janus gave him a searching look. "How old are you?"

"Sixteen years and eight months!"

"I'm fifteen," Virgil added.

"What's your mom's maiden name?"

"Tanaka. And she kept it."

"What's your most embarrassing moment?"

Patton flushed but couldn't stop the words tumbling from his mouth. "I peed my pants in my elementary school chorus concert?"

Janus snickered. "Second most embarrassing moment?"

"I-got-stuck-in-a-tree-trunk-once and that's beside the point!" Patton ignored Virgil's laughter. "Do you believe me now?"

"Patton Foster." Janus savored each syllable. "Do you, now or in the future, have any intentions of harming me or any dragon we encounter?"

"No," Patton responded. "I don't like hurting things."

"Hmm." Janus paused, his eyes moving as he concentrated. "I'll come."

"Wait, really?" Patton squealed. "That's fantastic!"

"Wait. Really?" Virgil grimaced. "Oh no."

"Thank you so much! You won't regret this!" Patton jumped forward for a celebratory hug. Janus grabbed his shirt and shoved him away.

"Okay, no hugs! Cool!" Patton's excitement barely dimmed. "Oh, I'm so glad! This is going to be amazing."

"I have to be with him." Virgil's voice was blank. "For an extended period of time."

"We'll all be such good friends!" Patton continued. "Come on, Virgil, this is good news! Turn that frown of yours upside down!"

Virgil did not.

"What now?" Janus asked, eyes flicking to the sky. "When do we leave?"

"Tomorrow morning," Patton decided. "We'll all need to get some rest tonight."

"Good idea, I'll just hop into my luxury queen bed." Janus deadpanned. "Oh wait, I have no place to sleep."

"Right!" Patton giggled sheepishly. "Sorry. Um—do you want to come stay at my house? Just for the night?"

Virgil made a strangled noise which Patton ignored.

"Your house," Janus repeated, eyebrows high in the air.

"Yeah!" Patton exclaimed. "It's right over that way! You can sleep there for tonight and we can leave tomorrow!"

"Are you—" Virgil seemed to be carefully keeping his voice level. "Are you sure about this, Patton? Will the moms like it?"

"I don't know," Patton said, wincing. "I kind of forgot about them."

Patton's moms definitely wouldn't like it, would they? They didn't like dragons and they'd think Patton was in danger or something. Plus they'd ask why Janus was here, so Patton would have to tell them he was leaving, and they would probably stop him. He'd been planning on sneaking out the back door in the morning and leaving a note. Sneaky and underhanded? Yes. But it was for a good cause. Mostly.

"We'll just, um." Patton grinned, trying to hide his nervousness. "Maybe-kinda-sorta sneak Janus into the house so they don't see him?"

"I thought you couldn't lie," Janus said.

"I can't!" Patton agreed. "But, like, if they haven't technically asked me whether I'm bringing a dragon into my room, then I'm not technically lying by not telling them! Right?"

Janus tilted his head. "You are aware of how incredibly morally gray that sounds, right?"

Patton flushed and stared at his feet.

"Don't worry," Janus said, smirking, "I approve."

"Somehow," Patton said, "that doesn't make me feel better."

"Are we doing this?" Virgil asked. "Or can he sleep in a garden or something?"

"No!" Patton folded his arms. "He's my friend now—"

"I am not your friend."

"He's my friend even though he won't admit it, which means he needs a place to stay!" Patton looked Janus over. "His clothes are all torn up and his bandages probably need to be changed soon. Plus I bet he's hungry!"

Janus hissed between his teeth, eyes glinting. "Is this a trap?"

"Nope!"

Janus sighed, rubbing at his temple. "Fine. We will go to your house."

"Yay!" Patton turned to Virgil, activating the Puppy Dog Eyes and clasping his hands. "Will you help us, kiddo? Pwease?"

Virgil gave a long sigh. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but let's sneak a dragon into our house."

[Masterlist] [Ao3]

#leave no trace

8 notes · View notes

ampmiscfiles · 3 years

Text

To Us You’re Worth Everything Chapter 8: Progress and Pain

Warning: Torture. The part is noted.

Pairings: Wanda/Peter, Pietro/Peter, Tony/Pepper

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kathy groaned as she cracked her eyes open. Her cheek was pressed against the rough carpet and her head was pounding.

"Kent?" she croaked out, moving to sit up.

She froze when she realized she couldn't move her arms. Glancing down, she was surprised to find they weren't bound, but she was unable to make them move.

"It's a very mild paralysis." a female voice spoke from behind her. "Don't bother trying to move. Other than being able to speak, you're no longer in control."

"What do you want?" Kathy asked, panic creeping into her voice.

"Don't you worry. As soon as good 'ole Kent comes around, we'll be glad to fill you in." Another voice, male this time, answered.

Kathy lay, completely immobile on the ground and at the mercy of whoever had broken into her home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I can't believe you were going to keep this from me." Pepper fumed, looking over the evidence Natasha and Clint had provided.

"I didn't want to worry you. Peter and the twins will never know about this. I'm going to have Friday filtering the news. We've got enough here in that folder to put them away. It's enough that we don't even have to put Peter in the position to make a case against them for the abuse. I don't know if the kid could handle it, honestly." Tony said, watching Pepper's keen eyes taking in everything.

She had come to collect everyone after she and Sam had finished making lunch. The twins had been happy to pull Peter out the office, eager to make sure he had a good meal. Their departure had led to Pepper noticing the large file on his desk and catching sight of a picture of a bruised young woman sticking out.

"Tony, they'll want to question him about his treatment in the house. Whether they abused him or not, he was living there." Pepper sighed, looking up. "Maybe we should have planned this out better. It's going to be hard to push through an adoption with this hanging over it. These are serious charges and Peter will be tied up in the middle."

"Well, I already have my lawyers filing the paperwork for Peter's adoption, so it'll be noted the process was started before the charges were filed. That's going to be in our favor."

"Or look suspicious." Pepper said, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, there's no proof we knew anything when the adoption process started." Tony shrugged with a grin. "No one's handed any evidence over to the police yet. We've got the rest of the day. We let the paperwork sit for a bit, then we drop the bomb. To be perfectly honest, and as bad as it sounds, the police will put Peter on the backburner while they take those pieces of human garbage in. They'll know where he's at and that will be good enough until they can make other arrangements."

"Who's turning this evidence in?" Pepper asked, her eyes narrowed as Tony looked at her innocently.

"You'd never believe it, Pep! Some responsible, blonde haired woman dropped off a folder at the station anonymously, then got into the passenger side of a blue car before leaving."

The two stared at each other before Tony's phone pinged. Turing his eyes to his phone, he chuckled.

"That SHIELD. So pushy. Always wanting to issue mandatory car repaints to keep them looking nice."

"Let me guess, that old blue car buried in the back of the garage needs an upgrade."

"That's why I leave the decorating to you, Pep. You always know what doesn't look good."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Peter was ushered into the kitchen and to the bar as Wanda flittered around, making sure to fill Peter's plate with extra pasta. Peter watched her, taking in her fluid movements and smile as she turned to look at him.

"Eat up." she said, placing the plate in front of him.

"What about mine?" Pietro pouted.

"You can make your own." she grinned before sticking her tongue out at him.

"Harsh."

"You'll live."

Peter felt a warmth inside him as he watched his soulmates bicker good naturedly. He shouldn't be allowing himself to get attached to the feeling, it wasn't going to be around much longer.

"Must be good, hu Pete?"

Peter looked up at Pietro slid onto the stool next to him, motioning to Peter's already half finished plate.

"Uh, yeah. It is."

"Finish that plate and I'll get you some more." Wanda smiled, leaning on the counter.

Peter nodded, looking back down at his plate. No one had ever encouraged him to eat and then promise to give him more. He was so used to experiencing the opposite that he really wasn't sure what to think. Was she being serious? Could he really have more? He couldn't remember the last time he was really and truly full.

"So, do you have any friends?" Pietro asked, shoveling another forkful into his mouth.

"You're an atrocious eater." Wanda crinkled her nose.

Pietro grinned around his mouthful of pasta.

"Anyway, do you? We'd love to meet them."

"Um......no." Peter answered, his voice quiet. "I....I don't have any."

There was silence for a moment as Peter moved some food around his plate.

"Any hobbies?" Pietro asked, quick to move on.

"Not....not really. I don't.....I don't....I've never really had a chance to get any."

"What made you want to be Spider-Man?"

"My.....my aunt and uncle were....were killed by a robber. I....I wasn't able to save them."

This was turning into a disaster!

"Um.....what's it like being an Avenger?" Peter asked, unsure why he was choosing to get invested.

"It's pretty exciting-"

"But also boring!" Pietro huffed, cutting his twin off. "There are times we're just sitting around for weeks! You see way more action than we do."

"Some times it's pretty quiet. Maybe helping old ladies across the street, or getting cats out of trees, maybe help a lost child find their parents."

"That's still more than us, and those things are just as important!" Wanda smiled widely. "Especially the children. I know it's scary for them."

"Yeah....I, I like doing it."

He did. It was hard sometimes, but those kids deserved to go home. It was always obvious he had done the right thing when he saw grateful moms and dads hug and kiss and cuddle their once lost child. The parents were always quick to thank him and some even gave him hugs as well. Based on the reactions, he must have been returning home some really good kids.

"What about school?" Pietro asked, moving to refill his own plate. "Favorite subject?"

"I like science class."

"I was always best at gym."

"I loved literature." Wanda answered happily. "Any favorite books?"

"I...I like The Hobbit. Uncle..." Peter paused, taking a deep breath and pushing back tears. "My Uncle Ben read it to me. It was the last book we read before....before he passed away. Aunt May read it to me again...."

Before she died.

Maybe he shouldn't like it. Maybe he should never read it again. He surely shouldn't let anyone he thought was a good person read it. If they were in any way connected to him, it was an automatic death sentence apparently.

"Do...do you have a favorite book?"

"I don't think I could name just one honestly."

"She's such a book nerd. You should see her shelves. Books are practically falling off the shelves."

Peter did want to see them.

"At least I can read." Wanda rolled her eyes.

"I'm so hurt." Pietro mocked her.

~~~~~~~Torture Begins~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kent groaned, his head was killing him and his body felt heavy.

"Ka-Kathy...." he called out. "What the hell did we-"

He cut off as it finally sunk in that he couldn't move. He could feel the cuffs chaffing his wrists.

"What the hell is this?" he shouted, looking over to see Kathy's tear stained face looking at him.

"Kent! I don't know what's happening!"

"And that just sucks doesn't it?" A males voice spoke from out of their eyesight.

"Who are you?" Kent growled, trying to move to see who was talking.

"Does it matter? I didn't think names were a big deal to you. They sure didn't matter to all those girls and boys you handed over to nameless creeps." A female answered.

Kathy paled as she whimpered.

"Wha...what are you talking about?"

"Oh, I think you know exactly what we're talking about." The male again.

"No we do-" Kent grunted as he was cut off by a swift kick in the back by a stiletto heel.

"I'd think very carefully about what you say." The female warned. "I can assure you that I'm in no playing mood, but my friend is in even less of one."

"We haven't done anything!" Kathy cried, wiggling before being yanked back by her hair to look into the face of a man with long dark hair and blue eyes.

"Oh, I'm gonna have fun with you. Liars make the job even better. It's going to be so sweet to hear you beg." The man grinned, a sadistic glint in his eyes.

"Let her go!" Kent yelled, glaring at the man.

"No one told you to speak, dog!"

Kent choked as he was pulled up and a ball gag was shoved into his mouth and tightened.

"You should be pretty comfortable in this, shouldn't you?"

The woman moved in front of him. Her blonde hair was tied up in a braid and her green eyes were hard and unforgiving.

"How do you want to do this? Should we show them the picture of their victims before each strike, or all at once?"

The man threw a folder down on the floor.

"Let's spread them. They can look at the faces of the children who lives they destroyed."

The woman quickly laid out all the pictures so that every face was clearly visible.

"These faces are going to be burned into your memory by the time we're done with you."

Kent tried to speak around his gag as he glared at the two intruders.

"Did you not hear me the first time, little pony?"

Kent froze as the woman sneered with glee at him.

"Should I get you a nice little tail? Maybe a saddle?"

"Oh, I bet he's be much more comfortable in his costume." The man laughed.

Kathy looked between the man and woman and Kent.

"Oh, that's right, you don't know about your dear Kent's after hours office fun." The man yanked her hard by her hair again.

"He makes such a good pony." The woman cooed. "Letting his boss ride him around the office. Getting spanked by a riding crop and getting plugged in more ways than one.. Your husbands not as loyal as you'd like to think."

"K-Kent?"

Kent tried to speak around his gag before the woman's hand came down across his face, hard.

"Again, no one told you to speak!"

"Here's how it's going to go." The man started gleefully. "We're going to make you feel the same way you made all your foster kids feel. By the time we're done, you'll be begging for jail."

"You can't do-" Kathy cried out as she was flung to the side by her hair, thick chunks left in the man's hand.

"Gross. You left your disgusting hair behind. It could use a wash." The man scoffed, throwing the hair down and wiping his hand on his pants. "Pure trash."

"Maybe we should shave her. Then we can just solve the problem completely."

Kathy gasped as the woman walked to a bag and pulled out an electric shaver. The man raised an eyebrow as the blonde walked backed to them.

"What? One should always be prepared for anything." She smiled, walking over to Kathy's prone form. "Now, let's see how nice a head shape you have."

"No! Please!" Kathy pleaded as the woman shoved her face into the floor.

She could feel and hear the buzz of the razor as it drug across her head. She could see the strands falling around her and a coolness to her skin.

"Just as I suspected. Your head shape is hideous."

Kent screamed around the gag in his mouth, only to grunt as the long haired man kicked him in the chin, sending his head snapping back.

"You know what, Ro?" The man asked, looking over at the blonde.

"What?"

"Kentty here has a pretty set of teeth behind this gag. Maybe we should relieve him of them."

"I think you're on to something. Let me finish up with our friend Kat and I'll give you a hand."

The blonde gave Kathy's face one more good shove into the floor as she finished up for cut.

"Ugly inside and out, arn't you?" she whispered into Kathy's ear.

"Wow, you really did come prepared." The man laughed as he pulled a pair of pliers out the bag and turned back to Kent.

"If you weren't going to jail, your boss would have been very happy without your teeth to worry about."

"What...what are you talking about?" Kathy's small voice called from the floor.

"Your husband has been having a nice time with his boss. So nice in fact, they had been secreted away a nice little stash of money to disappear together."

The woman laughed heartlessly at Kathy's stunned expression.

"How does it feel to be disgusting and worthless, Kathy?"

Kathy didn't respond as she looked at the man that was her husband. Tears swelled in her eyes.

"No time for water works now," The man tisked. "You're way to late for sympathy. Now, let's see those chopper's, Kentty Boy."

Kent gasped as the gag was loosened and toss to the side.

"You're going to regret this!" he shouted.

"Oh? You seem awfully sure about that. Tell me, Kent, who's going to save you? We have an abundance of proof as to your involvement in embezzlement as well as your little side job of forcing foster kids into prostitution and slave trade. The boys in prison are gonna love you."

"How would you like to do this?" The woman asked, moving to look down at Kent. "Personally, I'd prefer it to be as painful as possible. Really make him bleed."

"I love the way you think."

"I'm not just gonna-" Kent grunted as the woman's shoe hit his chest, knocking him back to the floor.

"Open wide little pony."

Kent's eyes widened as the woman shoved a leather strap in his mouth and behind his teeth, pulling it tight and pressing down harshly. The strap chaffed against his skin as the woman continued to press down.

"I'm going to enjoy this."

Kent tried to struggle against his binds but found it useless as the pliers entered his mouth, latching on to his front tooth. The man grinned widely before yanking down fast and hard.

The tooth flew out of Kent's mouth in a bloody mess as he tried to scream around the strap in his mouth.

"Look at it this way, you'll either go numb or pass out before he's finished."

The man chuckled darkly before diving back in.

Kathy watched in horror as blood poured out of Kent's mouth. His teeth gathered in a small pile. His cries had tapered off to whimpers, then stopped completely as he went limp.

"Passed out first." The woman noted as the last tooth was pulled.

"Damn. I really wanted him to make it all the way through." The man grunted.

"We still have her."

The two turned simultaneously to look at Kathy, who had started crying again.

"You poor thing."

Kathy flinched as the blonde woman ran her sharp nails down her face.

"You're so innocent arn't you. You don't deserve this, do you?"

Kathy looked between the two, her lip quivering.

"Do you think they deserved what they got?" The man asked, pointing to the pictures. "Do you?"

"N-no." Kathy whispered before she was punched across the cheek.

"I couldn't hear you, you piece of shit!"

"No!" Kathy screamed.

"Look at her tears!" The woman grinned. "Arn't they pretty?"

"Very. I want to see more."

"Sit her up. I want to see the hands that have inflicted pain on those children."

The man nodded, lifting Kathy up so her bound hands were visible behind her back.

"Look at these long and slender fingers. These are piano player fingers. It would be a shame for something to happen to them."

Kathy screamed out as her pinky finger snapped.

"I don't think a finger is supposed to look like that." The man laughed.

"I don't think this one is either."

Another snap and a scream.

"I don't think its a good look for only a few to look that way. She's needs a matching set of ten."

"I agree." The woman nodded, setting to break the rest of Kathy's fingers.

"You better not pass out like your bastard husband over there. I'd be tempted to pull out all your teeth as well."

Kathy was gasping heavily as the woman moved from behind her after finishing her fingers.

"Hmm....I don't think they've learned their lessons though, B."

"I don't either, Ro. I think I have an idea though."

"Really? What's that?"

"Well, the way I see it, their victims couldn't run so I don't think they should be able to either."

Kathy watched through watery eyes as the man, B, rummaged through the bag again, pulling out a steel bat.

"Maybe some busted knee caps?"

"I think thats fine for Kent, but this one needs something different. You know, I've always been a fan of the book, Misery." A wicked grin spread across the pretty woman's face.

"I'm gonna go see if there's anything to help me reenact the ankle breaking scene. Don't start the fun without me."

"Wouldn't dream of it!"

The man took a few practice swings with the bat before the woman returned with one of the conder blocks they had sitting outside the back door.

For the first time ever, Kathy wondered why they even had it.

The woman loosened the binds on her feet just enough to separate them and fit the block between them.

"Who goes first?" The man asked.

"Rock, paper, scissors?" the woman shurgged, as though the pain they were inflicting was a game.

"Rock, paper, scissors shoot!"

"Looks like you're up first Kitty Kat."

The two laughed darkly as the woman took the bat from her accomplice and stood over Kathy's feet.

"This won't hurt....." she tappered off as she swung the bat down hard.

The sound of bone shattering and screams of agony rang through the house.

"Guess I lied."

The man laughed as the woman got in position to repeat the action on the other ankle.

Kathy passed out.

"They're really no fun." Clint sighed.

"Smash his knee caps. They've made a lot of noise so we need to move out soon and drop off that paperwork." Natasha said, picking up the folder and placing the pictures back inside.

"With pleasure." Clint grinned, bringing the bat up and swinging down.

~~~~~~Scene Ends~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pepper smiled as she walked into the kitchen, finding Peter and the twins making small talk.

It wasn't anything deep, but it was better than nothing.

"So, I was thinking we could all move into the common area and watch a movie. Relax a little after everything?"

Wanda and Pietro looked up at her gratefully. They felt like they had made some progress with Peter, and were eager to keep him in a mood that could provoke more talking.

"That sounds great!" Wanda smiled. "Peter?"

Peter winced as the three turned to look at him.

"Y-yeah. That sounds ok."

"Wonderful!" Pepper said, clapping her hands together. "Let's see who else we can get to join us."

Peter swallowed hard as he followed them to the common area. There were couches and chairs all set up to face the large TV in the room.

He didn't know where he should sit. He knew where he wanted to sit, but he knew he had already given away more than he should already.

He could feel the attachment growing.

It made him feel sick.

He watched as Wanda and Pietro settled in on the couch, both looking at him imploring.

Peter couldn't bring himself to sit with them, instead he rushed to sit down in one of the overstuffed chairs.

The twins faces fell, but Pepper gave them a comforting look. Peter needed his space. They had made a dent in his armor, he needed time.

Accepting Pepper reassuring look, the two tried to pretend it didn't upset them that Peter had chosen not to sit with them.

"FRIDAY," Pepper called. "Please let everyone know we'll be watching a movie in the common room if they'd like to join us."

"Ms. Romanoff and Mr. Barton are currently off site. Captain Rogers, Mr. Wilson, and Boss are on their way."

"So, why don't you pick what we watch, Peter."

Peter's head shot up to look at Pepper with wide eyes. He never got to pick a movie. Everyone was better for it anyway. He never picked good movies. That was why he never got to.

"I...I don't know any good movies." Peter said, lowering his head. "I'm...I'm not good at picking them out."

Pepper frowned as Peter brought his legs up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them.

"Well, I think you'd do a great job." she said, nodding her head.

"I really don't.....I don't think I should, Ms. Potts."

"Please, call me Pepper."

Peter glanced over at her quickly before lowering his eyes.

"Just....just let someone else pick. They'll do a good job."

Pepper shared a look with the twins before taking a breath and looking at Peter's miserable form.

"It's ok, Peter." Pepper soothed. "I'm sure it's just your nerves. This has been a lot for you to take in today. You can pick next time."

Peter nodded, already knowing there wasn't going to be a next time.

#TUYWE #To Us You're Worth Everything #Peter Parker/Wanda Maximoff #Peter Parker/Pietro Maximoff #Tony Stark/Pepper Potts #Avengers #Spider-Man

1 note · View note

imaginingsoftly · 4 years

Text

It Seemed Like a Good Idea at the Time Pt. 5 - Morgan Rielly

Type: roommates to lovers, Y/N insert shorts

Requested: No

Warnings: mentions of CPS, drinking, family issues

(Y/N = Your name, POV change from Y/N to Morgan’s. Change is marked by lines.)

A/N: Sorry this is late! I worked a little bit too much this weekend and didn’t finish the chapter.

Y/N woke up to light streaming through her window and a splitting headache cracking through her skull. If the sun were any indication, it was well past her usual early-morning wake up time. She groaned as she rolled onto her side to stuff her face into the pillow. It had been a while since she'd last had a hangover, probably not since her twenty-first birthday, to be honest, and Y/N was definitely feeling it. Bogey sensed that she was awake and jumped onto the bed, meowing questioningly. "One sec, Boegs," Y/N mumbled into her pillow. She slowly stood, and every muscle in her body felt way too heavy.

Morgan was in the kitchen when she opened her bedroom door, and the smell of whatever he was cooking had her running for the bathroom. "Morning, sunshine," he called as she stumbled by. "Don't," she threw back at him before dropping to her knees in front of the toilet. Y/N jumped when she felt cool hands smoothing her hair back, and it was Morgan's voice that she heard as one of his hands began rubbing circles along her back. "Easy there, Red Sox. Don't party that much, eh?" It was the one time she didn't find his accent cute. Y/N twisted a hand back to raise her middle finger at Morgan, trying to breathe as she retched. Morgan let out a laugh, patting her back gently. They sat like that for a few minutes, waiting for her stomach to empty itself out.

The smell of something burning came suddenly, and Morgan jumped up with a few muffled swear words. Y/N followed him out slowly, and leaned in the doorway amusedly as he wafted smoke away from the remnants of what appeared to be a very blackened burrito. There was really an impressive amount of smoke coming out of the oven, and she hurried over to the windows to throw them open and get some of the smoke out. “I promise I’m usually not this bad in the kitchen.” Morgan’s voice sounded so defeated and apologetic Y/N couldn’t help but smile softly. “It’s okay,” she said, turning around to face him. His hands were leaned onto the countertop and his shoulders were hunched slightly, like he had broken something and not just burned his breakfast. “I could make pancakes, if you’re hungry.” Morgan smiled at her offer, and gestured into the kitchen. “Be my guest, Red Sox. Show me what you can do.” Y/N rolled her eyes, but headed into the kitchen anyway. It was a little after one pm, she noticed with a shock. “Turn on the Sox game, would you? Sunday afternoon matinees at Fenway are the best brunch entertainment.” Y/N thought she heard Morgan mumbled something about another kind of entertainment as he turned on the TV, but she was too busy thinking about how hungry she suddenly was to put much thought into deciphering his mumbles.

The game was just beginning as Morgan turned it on, and Y/N settled into the flow of cooking with the sound of Remy and OB filtering in as comforting background noise. Pancakes were as familiar to her as the back of her hand, so her mind worked on autopilot to make the batter and begin cooking them.

Y/N flipped a pancake, flicking her wrist to pop the pancake into the air and back into the pan batter-side down. “How do you do that?” Morgan’s voice made Y/N jump. He had somehow snuck up behind her, and his head was nearly resting on top of hers as she stood in front of the stove. “Do what?” She flipped another pancake. “That!”

“Flip pancakes?” Y/N leaned her head back to stare up at Morgan. When he was standing this close to her, their height difference was really quite noticeable. Morgan was nodding his head, and the bits of blonde hair he left a little bit long in front flopped into his eyes. It made him seem so gentle and kind, a far cry from the guy she was used to seeing on the TV. It was stupid really, probably just a manifestation of her hatred for his old team, but she’d assumed he would be an asshole. He was anything but. Shy, maybe, and more than a little bit irritable in the way an old man could be, but definitely not an asshole. “Y/N?” She blinked, and realized that she must have been staring. “Sorry. It’s all about the wrist.” Y/N grabbed Morgan’s wrist gently, dragging his hand to the handle of the first pan in front of them. He grabbed it, and she held her hand over his own. “You want to push forward and down,” she said, moving his hand, “and then you flick your wrist up as you jerk the pan back towards you slightly.” Morgan did so, and the pancake flipped up and back into the pan in one swoop. Y/N looked back at Morgan, and smiled when she saw how excited he looked. “Here,” she said. “These ones are done, so we’ll put new batter in and you can flip them when they’re ready.”

They waited together until the batter began to bubble, and Y/N nodded at Morgan. “Okay, now.” She stepped back out of Morgan’s way and watched as he attempted to flip the pancake on his own. He got it out of the pan okay, but then it only did a half flip and landed back in the pan folded over. Y/N tried not to laugh as Morgan looked over at her helplessly. “It’s okay, buddy. It took me a year or two to get it right.” She gestured at the second pan. “Try that one, and flick your wrist and lift a little higher. You need better rotation to get it batter-side down.” Morgan nodded, and he stuck out his tongue a little in concentration. This time the pancake landed in the pan perfectly, and Y/N let out a little cheer. Morgan threw his hands up in excitement and then hugged her, like they were doing a little goal celebration or something. “Damn professional athletes, you just have to be good at everything.” Morgan laughed, pulling back and looking into Y/N’s eyes. She was caught again by just how beautiful his eyes were, so blue and full of excitement. “Thanks, Red Sox.” She patted his shoulder awkwardly. “No problem, bud. Thanks for holding my hair back earlier.”

“About that,” Y/N turned back to the stove as Morgan began to ask the question she was waiting for. “What happened last night? I know I’ve only known you for like two months, but getting blackout drunk seems unlike you.” He was right. There was a history of alcoholism in her family, and she was so careful with drinking. She knew it was probably irrational, but she was so scared that alcohol would take over her life too. “Do you remember, on the beach a while back, when I told you I had been fighting CPS about one of my students?” Morgan was nodding when she turned back around to face him. “The kid I was talking about ended up in the hospital yesterday. It’s the second time this school year already. I keep making reports, and I know they’re being made at the hospital as well, but nothing is happening.” Y/N took a deep breath, wrapping her arms around her middle, suddenly cold. “I don’t know what else to do. I keep fighting, and I’ve gone above the head of the social worker that works with the school and the district, but short of kidnapping him I can’t do anything else.” Morgan touched her shoulder gently, and she was startled by the genuine sadness she saw, mixed with a little bit of anger. “I wish I could help, but if you need someone to talk to I’m here.” Y/N nodded, and leaned forward enough to rest her forehead on his shoulder. Morgan got the message, wrapping his arms around her.

The hug didn’t last long, the smell of pancakes beginning to burn reminding them they were still cooking, but Y/N felt a little better just talking with someone without getting suggestions and anger thrown in her direction. It was nice to have someone who would just listen.

________________________________________________________________

Y/N still looked sad as she stood next to him chopping berries for their pancakes, but she looked a little more calm than she had that morning or even the night before, when she had whirled in from god knows where smelling like whiskey and mumbling something about wanting to kill someone. The anger in her eyes when he asked if she was okay had startled him. It was a new look, a far cry from the stressed but in control Y/N he was used to, and he had helped her to bed just to make sure she didn’t get herself into trouble

A loud crack of a bat came from the TV, and Morgan looked up at the game instantly. “That’s gone,” Y/N mumbled, not even looking up. It was indeed gone, over the Monster and out of the park entirely. “How did you know that?” Y/N looked up with an eyebrow raised. “The crack. It sounded different. Louder and clearer. It was a home run crack.” Morgan looked at her incredulously. “There’s no way in hell you heard that and knew it would be out.” The replay was showing on the broadcast, and Y/N watched it before pumping her fist lightly. “Atta boy, Chavis. Out onto Lansdowne. Kid’s kicking ass.” She turned, picking up the plate of berries and tray of pancakes. Morgan was still staring at her as she walked towards the living room with the food. “Hun,” she said over her shoulder, “I’ve been watching baseball literally my entire life. I think I know what a home run crack sounds like.”

Morgan rolled his eyes, following behind her with two cups of coffee. “Seriously. How do you hear a difference?” Y/N was shifting over on the couch to make room for him. “I dunno. It sounds louder and clearer, kinda just a more pure sound, if that makes any sense.” The game went to commercial, and Y/N reached for a few pancakes. “I guess if you watch enough games you notice stupid shit like that.” Morgan took a bite of his own stack of pancakes and nearly moaned. They were perfect, just a little bit crispy on the outsides, and the maple syrup he had indulged in was like heaven. Y/N was shoveling food into her mouth to his left, her focus on the game in front of them. He took advantage of their closeness to catalogue Y/N’s appearance. The purple under her eyes was alarmingly bright, and there was a scab on her lip from where she’d clearly been biting it. She took another bite of her breakfast and glanced over at him. “What?”

Morgan shook his head. “Nothing. Just admiring how pretty you are.” Seeing her cheeks turn bright red at his comment was perfect. Y/N was terrible at keeping her emotions off her face, and making comments like that one were always worth it to see the little smile that came with the red cheeks. “You’re a goof, you know that right?” Morgan laughed at Y/N’s statement. That was usually the only response she seemed able to come up with when he made her flustered. It was particularly hilarious to see someone who usually had so much to say unable to come up with a solid comeback.

“So tell me, Red Sox, who should be my favorite member of this team?” She tilted her head, staring at the screen as the Sox took the field for the top of the inning. “Probably Chavis, honestly. Big dude, solid defender, a little underrated. Sound familiar?” Y/N smirked at him like she knew what she was doing. It was his turn to turn red and flustered. “Are you hinting at something?” he asked jokingly. She winked, gesturing at the TV as Chavis began a double play. “I’m just saying, thick underrated defender sounds like a certain someone I share an apartment with.” Morgan focused on the replay, or really just focused on anything but her while he tried to get his mind back in order. Y/N seemed to enjoy teasing him almost as much as he enjoyed teasing her, and it made for some truly entertaining moments.

“So when do you leave for your road trip again?” Y/N reached for more pancakes as she spoke, glancing over at Morgan when he responded. “Tomorrow night. We’ll practice in the morning and then head out. I’ll be back the night after.” Morgan nudged her with an elbow. “Why? You gonna miss me?” Y/N threw her head back and laughed, and he couldn’t help but smile when Y/N answered him. “Obviously. Who else is gonna hold my hair back when I drink too much?”

They spent the rest of the day on the couch, switching over to a Caps/Pens preseason game when the Sox were done. Y/N was a funny person to watch sports with; she swore a lot, and sometimes she would just yell randomly. He was definitely going to miss her on their overnight trip, and he couldn’t imagine how weird it would be to not see her for weeks at a time once the season got going.

#morgan rielly imagine #good idea ml #nhl imagines #nhl imagine

32 notes · View notes

vampirrediaries · 4 years

Text

Enemies Of The State : Dark!Klaroline {6}

summary:

This fiction follows the events of just how Klaus Mikaelson and Caroline Forbes lost everything that tied them to their humanity, leading them into something neither of them can come back from.

—————

{10 years ago}

When Caroline opened her eyes, her tears had finally ceased. Her gaze was lifeless as she stared into nothing in particular.

She felt nothing.

She hastily brought her hands to her face, rolling her eyes as she wiped away the evidence that she was capable of feeling emotions once. It seemed like a lifetime ago, her humanity, as if it were a bad distant memory that she was on the brink of forgetting forever.

She stood up, calmy walking towards the door of her house when she suddenly stopped, the familiar sensation of her throat burning with hunger made her do so.

Caroline was starving, starving for something a little stronger than the blood bags in her refrigerator.

A sly smirk appears on her face as she swiftly turns back on her heel. No, she didn’t feel horrible anymore. She didn’t feel like she didn’t matter, either. All Caroline wanted was to rip into an innocent bystander’s carotid artery and suck them dry until she was satisfied. She didn’t have to feel remorse or guilt for killing, not if she had anything to do with it. The freedom she felt was beyond everything.

The emotionless vampire started walking down the street eagerly, saving the little energy she had left until she fed on the thing she most craved for. It was empty when she arrived in the town square, the residents of Mystic Falls in their homes sleeping sound, so blissfully unaware of the things that go bump in the night. Emotional Caroline felt jealous of that sometimes, ignorance is bliss. But Caroline couldn’t give a damn as of now. All she wanted was fresh, human blood.

“Yeah, Mom i’m coming home. Calm down.”

Caroline quickly turned her head as her supernatural hearing picked up that a distant voice. Indeed, a teenage girl was walking down the street on the other side of the square. Her hair was pulled to the side of her neck, exposing creamy skin that she longed to sink her teeth into. She could hear the girl’s heartbeat, steadily pumping blood throughout her body. She felt her mouth water, her throat tightening with insatiable hunger. There wasn’t any way that girl was surviving tonight, but she couldn’t care less.

“Jesus, i’m like three blocks away-” The girl began saying, but was cut off immediately as Caroline flashed in front of her in a frenzy. She smiled sweetly, not wanting her food to run away so easily. The girl looked startled, scared as her phone slipped from her hands and landed on the hard concrete, cracking the screen. Good, it’s better that we’re alone.

“Can I help you with something?” The teenager asked sassily, her hand on her hip as if she was trying to give off an unbothered attitude, but she could hear her heart beating rapidly. The vampire said nothing in response, but never let that sickly sweet smile she had go. Her prey looked scared now, the type of scared Caroline expected from her.

“I-I’m just gonna go,” The unnamed girl tried to back away with timid steps, not caring about her broke phone at this point. Caroline would be damned if she let her food go at this time, not knowing when she’ll find another to feed on.

“You don’t wanna do that,” she said with a scary calm as she pulled the helpless girl towards her by the arm. She looked terrified, her eyes like saucers as Caroline looked her in the eyes, puplis dialating steadily. She never compelled anyone for their blood before, and she didn’t need to. She learnt to control her bloodlust as a vampire with emotions and get her fill with blood bags. She found this to be much more satisfying.

“Are you scared?,” She asked with a taunting voice. The girl nodded rapidly, tears falling from her eyes soundlessly. Caroline decided that she wanted to have a little fun with the human before sucking her dry, taking in twisted pleasure in the fear she was inflicting.

“Okay,” She shrugged nonchalantly “I won’t kill you, but only if you run as fast as you can.”

The girl screamed with those words, running away on her hightop sneakers as far away as she could for the sake of her life. Caroline laughed, watching her trip over her own feet as she ran under the compulsion. She couldn’t help but think how human’s were such fragile little creatures with fragile lives. Poor things, living like that. I don’t know how you managed it, Care.

The girl was getting farther away by the minute. She chuckled amusedly, swiftly flashing towards her prey with her supernatural abilities. The thirst was unbearable at this point, her eyes going a deadly blood red and daggers growing in her mouth as she stood in front of her food. The girl screamed instantly, backing away from the emotionless vampire.

“I thought you were going to let me go!”

Caroline simply smiled in response, a maniacal look on her face as she got closer, tugging a lock of brunette hair behind her ear as she calmly whispered.

“I lied.”

Caroline suddenly plunges her fangs into her victim’s neck, making sure she got into one of the main arteries to control the blood flow. She hummed in satisfaction, ravenously savouring the sweet taste of red down her throat. She didn’t compel the girl to not feel pain, it was all the more pleasurable seeing her victim scream and wither in pain as she dug deeper into the flesh. She drank it all, holding the struggling girl tight against her grip until she went limp with death in her hands.

Only when the blonde vampire felt that the veins had been drained completely of their blood did she let the corpse of the once lively teenage girl drop onto the hard concrete. Caroline eyed it wearily. The body was white as a ghost, eyes open as they stared into nothingness. Her hands were bloody as she carelessly wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

She didn’t care, she was more than satisfied as her thirst was gone for now. What she wasn’t happy with, however, was having to deal with this corpse. Normally she would’ve left it there, but the last thing she wanted was for her to be caught. Not yet, at least. Not until she got out of this sorry excuse of a town.

You mark my words. This small town boy, this small town life...it won’t be enough for you.

Klaus’ words echoed in her mind as she dragged the body behind her. Caroline scoffed at his accuracy, of course he knew that it wouldn’t be enough for her. It wasn’t, she knew this perfectly well now.

Stop thinking about him She thought hastily. It wasn’t like she felt something for him anymore, he can go to hell for all she cared. Klaus Mikaelson was gone. He didn’t care about her and neither did she.

Right?

She growled, shaking her head as she trudged up into the forest with a quickly decaying body behind her. Of course she didn’t, she didn’t care about anything at this point. The switch made sure of that, that was the deal.

Caroline grudgingly began digging up a grave deep inside the forest when she reached it, knowing where Stefan had kept a shovel for trifling matters such as this. She effortlessly did so, making sure it was deep enough so the body would be hard to find. Energy hummed in her veins as she carelessly picked the corpse up, intending to throw it into the hollow ground.

“What in the bloody hell are you doing?!”

Caroline immediately halted in the middle of her actions, the evidence of the murder she’d commited flinging over her shoulder. She didn’t need to turn around to know who that whiny, accented voice belonged to. “How is it that you always show up at the worst time possible?” She groaned, roughly flinging the body into the pit.

The look on Rebekah Mikaelson’s face was not a pleasant one when Caroline finally whisked her head around. She looked stunned to say the least, walking towards the mangled body with unease.

“What did you do?” Rebekah demanded, crossing her arms as she glared at the bloody vampire. The emotionless vampire simply rolled her eyes, beginning to shovel dirt back into the makeshift grave.

“I was hungry, not that it’s any of your concern.”

“So you killed a human?” The original vampire hisses “How could you be so bloody careless Caroline?”

“I don’t know,” She feigned cluelessness, her expression laced with amusement “Why would poor, innocent Caroline do something so horrible?”

Rebekah knew that cold-blooded gaze anywhere. Being over a century old, she had her fair shares with dealing with vampire’s like the one in front of her. The one’s who made it rain blood without a care in the world. Dread quickly filled her as she came to realisation on just what Caroline had done.

“You’ve flipped the switch on your humanity, haven’t you?”

“Oh no, you caught me!” She said bemused. Rebekah said nothing as the emotionless vampire continued filling up the pit she’d dug, as if she had no care in the world. Of course she did, everything that made Caroline human was gone without a trace.

“Why?” Rebekah finally breathed out, exasperated “Why on earth would you do that?”

“Why do you think?” The vampire halted in the middle of her actions “I don’t know why you’re being so judgy, Bekah. You probably have a lifetime of blood on your hands.”

“But i’ve never turned it off!” The Original vampire countered, her voice raising “I dealt with it.”

“Yeah, by being pushed around by your older brother?” Caroline scoffed “I can’t say i’m not surprised. You only now decided your not going to be his little puppet anymore? It’s kind of pathetic.”

Rebekah felt herself grow enraged the the second by her words, knowing she wasn’t herself, yet she couldn’t help but flash over and pin her down.

“Listen to me clearly, you little bitch,” Rebekah hissed, her fangs protruding from her mouth “If you dare go on another killing spree and risk my staying in this town i will ruin you.”

Caroline didn’t bother struggling against her grip as her smirk came to life once again, tauntingly pulling one of the vampire’s blonde locks away from her face.

“Aww, look at you” She cooed with fake pity “You’re still so insecure. Poor Klaus isn’t here to save you from the council anymore, and here you are threatened by the likes of me.”

Rebekah roughly shoved the vampire back as she let go of her, anger still prevailant in her expression. She glared at her, shooting daggers with her eyes to let her know who was the most powerful between them. The vampire didn’t look fazed as she dusted herself off, calmy walking away from the scene as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

“This isn’t going to end well for you.”

Caroline stopped, turning around as she looked Rebekah dead in the eyes. She calmy replied, complete opposite to how she was minutes before.

“That’s the difference between you and I. I don’t have to feel anything about it.”

Rebekah looked taken aback, not recognising the girl in front of her with those words. There was no sign of the light she once bore in the stare she’d given, as if it were lost forever. Caroline was completely and utterly lifeless, only with the pent up hostility and rage as evidence she felt something once.

Rebekah knew all too well how the humanity switch functioned. A vampire didn’t feel the guilt, sure. They didn’t feel anything but the traits that made their vampirism, which was all made up of predatory instincts and bloodlust. The switch didn’t change who they were, and Caroline felt it strongly as it was with emotions. Without emotions, however. That was a different story altogether. She hadn’t ever seen a vampire be this potentially dangerous.

It was for this reason that when Caroline was gone, Rebekah instantly started making her way to where she knew she’d get some help to deal with this situation. She was, in other words, scared. Scared of what she was now capable of.

She saw darkness that desperately needed to be contained.

***

Caroline Forbes made her way up the steps into her home, lights off to indicate that her mother was working late.

Good. She could use complete privacy for once, without neurotic Original vampire’s stalking her every move. Rebekah Mikaelson irritated her to an extent, acting as if her threats had any sort of significance. Caroline scoffed. Poor thing, really. She wasn’t worried about Rebekah letting people know about her little indiscretion, as she’d be long gone before they could do anything about it.

Opening up her laptop, she started looking up different cities she’d always wanted to visit. Los Angeles, San Francisco, New York. She hummed at the possibilities, Stefan once telling her that every vampire should visit the big apple at least once. The crowded bars and busy streets sounded like red ecstasy.

Caroline mindlessly found herself typing in a certain city’s name, purely out of curiosity, she’d told herself. God, it looked as pretty as he had described it once. The streets lined with tourists made it even more appealing to her bloodlust.

He made it more appealing.

She abruptly slammed her laptop closed, scoffing to herself for even considering it. Stop letting him get in your head. She shook her head, focusing on more important matters at hand.

Caroline stood up, walking towards her closet where the dusty, unused suitcase lay on the top. She’d brought it in hopes that it would come into use one day, and pulling it out, she smirked to herself. She was finally getting out of here, finally exploring her deathly new found freedom.

So long, Mystic Falls. It was nice knowing you.

—————

The room was silenced as the words that Klaus Mikaelson had went to great lengths to prevent, were spoken.

“What do you mean, she’s dead?” Elijah finally broke the silence, his face ashen and dark with uncertainty after hearing this claim. Kol shook his head, dropping his gaze down.

“She’s gone, brother.”

Klaus abruptly flashed towards his younger brother, pinning him against the far wall by the neck. His hybrid features quickly came to life with the animosity he felt. Kol struggled against his hold, desperate for oxygen, but Klaus couldn’t give a damn.

“You’re lying” He hissed maliciously, grip tightening “How dare you come here and utter such nonsense.”

��You can think i’m lying all you want, brother,” Kol breathed out, a slow grin appearing on his face. “But Katerina is dead, and so is your precious little Caroline.”

Klaus shoved him back with brute force. “Keep her name out of your mouth,” He growled. Kol chuckled, coughing up blood as his brother started to dig his nails into his throat. He could bare it, being gone through much worse pain in his lifetime.

“Doesn’t change the facts, brother. You should’ve taken care of it when I told you to.”

Klaus roughly let’s his brother go, eyeing him incredulously as he quickly begins to recover. “I did bloody take care of it,” He growls “How do you know she’s dead? That incessant girl was supposed to be in Mystic Falls.”

“Witches talk, brother. A Petrova Doppelgänger’s death isn’t taken lightly, especially since it’s Katherine Pierce.”

“I did everything I was told,” Klaus hisses angrily. How could Katherine be dead? He gave her mercy, saved her life, and yet she ended up as a corpse.

Kol sighs heavily, trudging towards his brother in small steps. “You shouldn’t have gone to Amelia. She likes to play games like this, probably didn’t even lift the link at all.”

Something came to Klaus suddenly, having not heard what Kol was saying.

Elijah.

He whisked his head around in an instant, having forgotten about Eiljah in the middle of his fit with Kol. He looked around desperately, flashing up the stairs in hopes that his older brother was there, but he was nowhere to be found.

No.

“This cannot be happening” He whispered under his breath, the reality of the situation striking him at an alarming rate.

Katerina is dead, and so is your precious little Caroline.

Kol’s face came to realisation when he knew what Klaus was on about. Elijah had disappeared as if he was never there. As soon as he heard his love was dead, he wasn’t about to let Klaus’ get away with breathing.

Elijah was gone to kill Caroline Forbes.

——————

masterlist

25 notes · View notes