ballerina + hockerry … so I hear you’re into pain 😗⁉️
YUPPPP!!!!! making this a continuation of this blurb !
2. "So I hear you're into pain?"
smut prompts
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. . .
Maybe hooking up with Malcolm after the hockey game was a mistake.
And maybe, just maybe, she'd only gone home with him because she knew word would travel back to Harry, and she for some reason wanted him to feel even shittier about beating him up on the ice.
When she left the hockey arena that evening, hand-in-hand with Malcolm, hoping one of Harry's teammates would snap a picture to send to him and ruin his night even more, she felt a bead of guilt drip down her chest.
The guilt only grew when Malcolm fucked her into the mattress that evening. He was fine, but nothing special. They clearly weren't compatible sexually — she kept asking him to smack her ass and pull her hair, but he'd only slow his thrusts to ask if she was sure.
Of course she was sure.
The following night, when she's at one of the local bars in town with a few friends from ballet, she wants to curl into a ball when she glances up from her wine to see Harry walking towards her with a smirk on his lips.
She can only assume where this is going.
"So," he simpers, bumping his hip up against the bar top to face Y/N, "I hear you're into pain?"
She grimaces, clenching her jaw as she sends a death glare his way. "Leave me alone."
"Was he even able to get it up with the way I punched his sorry ass into the ice?"
Y/N rolls her eyes, leaving her half-full glass behind on the bar as she turns around and meanders towards the bathroom. Harry's quick on his feet, determined to find out any other details about her night with Malcolm. In all honesty, his stomach dropped when he heard his teammates talking about her this morning. Apparently, one of them was friends with Roan, the captain on Malcolm's team, and Malcolm wouldn't shut the fuck up about her wanting him to throw her around.
Malcolm had allegedly thought it was weird. Harry couldn't be more turned on by the thought of grabbing her hips, issuing harsh smacks to her ass, spitting in her mouth, and choking her until her eyes rolled back.
But that was beside the point.
"You didn't answer my question," Harry catches up to her, cornering her in the hallway where the bathrooms are. Y/N huffs and crosses her arms over her chest. "Was he able to fuck you the way you needed, princess?"
"I told you to leave me alone." she mumbles, though she doesn't make a move to slip away from him.
"I'll take that as a no, then."
"Was he talking shit?" Y/N asks suddenly, a flash of hurt glinting over her facial expression. "Did he tell people about what we did?"
Harry shrugs. "Not exactly. Just about what you asked him to do."
"Pussy," she mutters.
He chuckles softly. Maybe it's the alcohol in his system, but when he glances down at her shorter stature, he can't help but admire how pretty she looks. He swears her eyes glimpse up at his lips, but her gaze falters a mere moment later.
"If it makes you feel any better," he murmurs, leaning forward slightly to catch the shell of her ear, "I would give you all that and more."
Y/N's face warms. Suddenly, it's all too much — he's far too close, and she realizes that he knows more information about her sex life than she ever would have wanted. She quickly presses her hands against his chest and pushes him away, nostrils flaring with a fire in her eyes.
"Fuck you," she spits, "You fucking wish you could ever get that close to me."
The anger in her words sends a chill down Harry's spine, and he's left alone in the empty bar hallway when she returns to her friends.
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The house of Nightingale & Constantine ( P. 3 )
> previous
.・゜-: ✧ :-
"Why are you avoiding me." Green eyes, sharp and unflinching, locked on Danny.
Startled, he turns to the younger boy, Damian? Bruce's only blood kid, he reminds himself.
"I'm not avoiding you." He denies, shaking his head, eyes trailing off.
But Damian knows, he learned and memorised the movements, signs, and behaviour of human kind.
"Do not lie to me, Nightingale."
The use of the name triggers something, and both Damian and Danny jump back, startled and cautious.
"What's the meaning of this!" The boy demanded, snatching his sword from the hilt.
The other raised his hands, pleading. "Look Damian– put the sword down and let me explain, please?"
They stood in tense silence, the sword pushed down reluctant and swiftly tugged back in.
"Explain."
Danny sighs in relief.
"You're more than aware of your parentage, yes?"
A nod, if not slightly confused. "Wayne?"
"No, al Ghul."
He keeps his facial expression and body language closed, obviously trained, and tilts his head to the Ghost. Listening, assessing.
Danny swallows as the air takes on sparks, dangerously close to one another.
If only Dick was in the mansion, maybe he'd cut the air with a knife followed by laughter and help him escape.
"The al Ghul line is in a delicate balance that can be toppled any time," he explains. "it's an old house, new compared to the houses of ancient, but powerful."
"You're saying," Damian drawls, carefully placing the words to form the sentence. "that the line of Al Ghul is... magic." He is studying the older, eyes narrowed and focused.
He knew such accusation would be called ridiculous by the younger. It would definitely earn him a few attempted kills.
"Not all dark houses are magic, just magic adjusted. The reason al Ghul is where it is today is that the founder, your grandfather, is still alive."
"You're aware such claims would have your head."
A wince.
"Fine." Damian scoffs. "We will go back to that after, tell me of the name triggering then."
"Names have power, but family names are more powerful, especially those of dark houses. If another dark house calls—"
"It registers as a warning and summoning." He finished, unfazed at the owlish blinks received.
"You were taught."
"I was, you're right, the al Ghuls are not magic. I haven't taken it seriously back then, I now see the error of my actions." The boy simply states, arms crossed.
"Calling another house of dark by name and immediately pulling a weapon is a declaration of challenge." Dannt adds after a moment of quiet. "I would rather not fight and make an enemy here."
"Not an enemy, but neither an ally?" Is quickly thrown back.
The Nightingale shrugs. "I'm not fond of your grandfather," he admits. "but it's known that every generation changes the house, I would not mind being the ally of the al Ghuls, if it meant you did the contract."
"Being an ally to my name only and to the al Ghul if asked." Green eyes, borderline neon, it reminds Danny of the zone. "Bold."
A grin cracks through, and Danny gestures to the door. "We can discuss the terms during snack time, if you wish, al Ghul."
A spark and Damian scowls harder. "Stop that." He says. "Let's do so, Father would be quite pleased knowing I've made more allies."
As he stomps to out, Danny follows with a jump in his steps, very pleased.
Nightingale 1, Constantine 0!
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